The Goblets Immortal by Beth Overmyer (read 50 shades of grey .TXT) 📕

thought on it, the less spite seemed likely. She had known what her weapon would do to him, dredging up vivid images of the past; that much was obvious. Was it a warning? Maybe it was a gift, though Aidan could see no merit to it, other than tormenting him further.

He had thus far not dreamt of the biggest trauma of his life, merely skirting around the corners of the memory. He hoped he never would re-encounter the shock that had jolted him. “Jolted,” Aidan murmured. The word dredged up yet another memory. Where had he heard that word recently?

The answer came to him easily enough: someone had said it in his first vision from the past. But who and why? The more he tried to home in on those details, the farther they seemed to flit away from his reach, and the more his mind wandered in opposite directions. He thought of the first vision – or had it been the second? – where the little girl had seen him through the Seeing Pool. Had that been a trick of Meraude? He thought not. It must have to do with the icy wound.

And thinking of the little girl was when he realized that he knew who that little girl was. In fact, he knew not only who she was, he knew exactly where she was.

Aidan shot forward, cursing, and began pounding on the seer’s door. “Seer!”

“Go away, milord. It’s time for the bats to be about.”

“I know who you are.”

A pause. “Well, good for you.”

Aidan stopped pounding for a moment, then resumed when he felt her Pull moving back toward the bed. “Open this door or….”

“Or you’ll what?” she said. “Make a bigger scene than what you’ve already made? Go to bed, sir. We’ll discuss your impeccable memory in the morning.”

Heads popped out from different rooms, and shouts and jeers were thrown at him, along with bits of trash. “Pardon,” he offered a half-dressed man who was giving him the eye of death. Once he was certain the inn guests had returned to their activities, Aidan leaned into the door. “Why didn’t you tell me we’d seen each other before?”

Footsteps hesitated on the floorboards, and the Pull came nearer. “What are you on about?”

Aidan pressed the words delicately through the door. “If you knew it was I you’d seen in the Seeing Pool as a child, why didn’t you say?”

There was a long sigh, and the door opened a fraction. “Would it have made any difference? More likely it would have muddied the future. Besides, life has a way of unfolding. Best let it, milord. Best let things that are meant to be, be.”

“You tried to kill me, after knowing I was….” He was what? He could not even finish the thought. She had helped him once, her as a child in the past, him as an adult in the present.

“As much ill as you think of me, I did not relish the thought of another one of the Blest being murdered. Too few of us left.”

Aidan let out a low breath. “Us? So you were one of the children? You are one of the Bl—”

The crack widened, but not by much. “What of it?” She seemed even older now, more tired.

“When you said you are no fortune-teller….”

“And one I am not. Seer’s a fun title, but it does not make up for what the Circle has done – and Meraude, in her turn. Now, before you go telling all of the world our secrets, be mindful. It is no coincidence that the goblins found you and then the nymphs. You’ve got a mark on you, one that won’t wash off. Don’t go attracting any more attention. We’re easy enough to find as it is.”

Aidan opened his mouth to say something, though he could not think what, so he closed it at once.

The woman, Larkin, gave him a knowing smile. “That’s better. We’ll discuss our next course of action in the morning. Until then, I suggest you stay in your room, the both of you.”

Aidan nodded. He did not know what to make of this woman. He needed time to think, to clear his head. What he really needed was a walk out in the wild, with no Pulls but nature’s to contend with.

She shook her head. “You know as well as anyone what would happen to her if you up and left in the night.”

“I wasn’t going to—” Oh, what was the use? She’d seen what she had seen; perhaps there was a version of him in the near future that abandoned them both, the girl and the seer. He wasn’t sure how Larkin’s ability worked.

The woman nodded. “Good. I haven’t seen much, but you need to keep your door bolted. No matter what you hear in the square. Tonight, your focus needs to remain on the Goblets.” She nodded and muttered to herself and, hands shaking, she slammed the door in his face and took her own advice by bolting it. There was a terrible wail on the other side of the door, and the floorboards crunched as the strange woman’s Pull moved away.

He raised his fist one more time to knock and ask if she was all right, but he thought better of it and turned back to his own quarters. The door was still shut, and he dared not try the handle. Distraught and confused, Aidan turned and moved back toward the chair. That is when Slaíne’s Pull slackened and the bolt was thrown open. No one emerged. The Pull retreated, back toward the solid mass whose Pull must be the bed.

Frowning, Aidan approached the door with a soft tread and rapped gently on the doorframe. “Slaíne? Mightn’t I—”

“Door’s unlocked, sir.”

He pushed the door open. It groaned on its hinges, and Aidan heard a few muttered complaints from their neighbors. He shut and bolted the door. When he turned around, Slaíne was in the small bed, her back to him.

Upon quick examination, Aidan found that