Dawn's Promise (Silent Wings #1)

She laid a hand on the cool glass and stared out the window. Beyond, night fell over the estate and the moon rose in a cloudless sky. The only sounds the rustle of birds fighting for a position in the surrounding trees. The serenity outside was at odds with her inner turmoil and she drew on it, letting it wash over her.

She should have laughed at his preposterous story, but she found a calm acceptance within her. He told a story she already knew, contained in the tales her mother used to whisper at night. Unless Dawn had died of grief, followed her parents to the grave, and woke in some strange afterlife plucked from her wildest dreams, which would be why parts of it seemed so familiar.

Thoughts tumbled through her mind, but they arranged themselves in a certain order. The earl’s people were crafted by Mother Earth, or Gaia, from water and earth. That was significant. Understanding how and why was so close, yet she couldn’t quite grab it. She turned back to face him as she pondered her next question.

A quick smile flashed across his face, but the worry lines remained etched in his forehead. “I am reassured that you have not yet run screaming from the room.”

“That would go unremarked upon here.” It was a weak joke, but so many things screamed in the dark, from Lady Letitia in her tower to the owls and ravens on the hunt at night.

Lord Seton’s frown deepened. He really did worry too much. She wondered what would bring him joy and make the lines smooth away. She had glimpsed moments of levity and humour from him, and she longed to see his full smile again.

“It is not just Julian’s passing that troubles Lettie, but her condition is tied to the state of the grounds.”

“Did Lady Letitia have a love for the garden?” If she were a keen gardener, it would explain her distress at the neglect and disrepair. But it didn’t explain why she didn’t do something to remedy it herself. Why did she watch it fall into ruin from her tower and not take up trowel and secateurs in its defence?

His hand tightened into a fist again and he stared at it as he stretched out his fingers. “Parts of the grounds, like the lake, are very dear to Lettie. But her situation is…complicated. In all these years neither I, nor the doctors, have been able to ascertain its exact cause.” He struggled with what to say about his sister.

“Oh.” So much ran unspoken in the room, like the whirls and eddies in deep water. But Dawn couldn’t swim, and she was hesitant to venture further.

The garden here was like none other that Dawn had ever explored. From the strange vibrations that ran up through her feet when she first touched the soil of the estate to the horrible pressure in her mind that sent her running blind through the forest walk. Nothing was as it seemed, and there was no botany textbook to explain it all to her.

“If Warders are crafted from water and earth, does that give you an affinity to nature? Is that why the grounds here are unlike any other? It is as though the very air and soil is imbued with magic.” Dark magic, with the creeping black vine that slithered through every part and destroyed as it went. Her wrist ached and she rubbed it. What if the vine sought to destroy her from within? But Hector said none of the men who were scratched by it were unduly affected.

“The estate is special to our Warder family, and there are forces here that only an Elemental can feel. The grounds are the source of our power, but as you have observed, it has sickened.”

There was one thing that didn’t make sense in all of this. “But why do I feel it and see the Cor-vitis? I am not one of you.”

“There is a fifth type of element, often called aether or quintessence by scholars. In Latin they are called animus. Their power is drawn from the intangible that comprises the soul, intellect, and spirit of man. They are both chaos and balance and can either align to a side or remain impartial. We call them the Meidh, and you are one.”

This time Dawn did laugh and shake her head, even though a tremble shook her hand. What would it be like, to be part of something special? “I am ordinary.”

The lines on his brow eased as he smiled and leaned back on the sofa. “No, you are extraordinary. You just haven’t realised it yet.”





16





“But how could I be one of these Elementals?” Dawn could accept a nearly three-hundred-year-old suitor crafted by a divine hand, but naming her as some sort of supernatural creature as well took things too far. She was a mouse scuttling in the dark on the world’s stage and not a person of any importance or with any special abilities.

Gentle humour simmered in Lord Seton’s grey eyes and his lips twitched. “It is a simple matter of deduction and elimination to place you as a Meidh. I would know if you were an earth elemental, and besides you are not of the broad build of gargoyles. While you have some of the fluidity of an undine, for all the time you sat by the lake you never dived in. You also have brown eyes instead of an undine’s watery shades.”

“I can’t swim,” Dawn murmured.

One eyebrow arched. “As I said, you’re not an undine. Sylphs are tall and elegant but full of hot air, which enables them to fly, and have eyes the colour of the sky. Salamanders are often shorter and solid. Their skin is darker, they wield fire and generally have a red tint to their hair and amber flecks in their eyes. Again not a description that fits you. Once I eliminate the four elements, that only leaves the fifth – quintessence or a Meidh.”

Dawn walked back to the chaise. While she followed his rationale, she still tried to grasp how it was possible. Mutations could appear in plants, was she something similar? “Can a Meidh spontaneously appear with no knowledge of what they are?”

Lord Seton shook his head. “Like pollinating plants, the offspring is tied to the parent. Either your mother or father must have been an Elemental, or more likely a Meidh.”

Dawn tallied the evidence scattered in her upbringing. Her mother’s ability to sift truth from lies. She’d told stories of mythical creatures that echoed what Lord Seton had told her, and most telling, her mother had named the raven in the garden as a watcher with a stone master. Once again, Dawn wished for a few more moments with her mother. There were so many questions she needed to answer, and Dawn was left fumbling in the dark when it came to her heritage. A steady thrum took up residence in her head and refused to budge. She pressed a hand to her temple as the headache built. “If you don’t mind, I have heard enough for tonight. I have so much to contemplate.”

He rose and held out a hand to her. “Of course. Shall we have a quiet dinner and discuss other things?”

“Yes, please.” Pressure built inside her head, and she didn’t think her skull could contain any more incredible tales. Talk of the mundane would help the pain behind her eyes, and now that she was appointed landscape designer, there were many ordinary things to discuss.

Dawn hesitated to put her hand in his. She didn’t want to see the Cor-vitis. Not tonight. Lord Seton saw her falter, and disappointment flashed through his eyes before he placed his hands behind his back. They walked together to the silent dining room where a simple meal was laid out, one they could serve themselves without a hovering footman.

Over dinner, Dawn asked about the textile mill that kept the villagers employed, and then they discussed turning the glasshouse into an orangery and where to source citrus plants.

Lord Seton laid down his knife and fork. “The shop in the village will have gardening catalogues. I can take you there tomorrow if you wish to start sending away for the plants. They will take some weeks to get here, plenty of time for the lads to clear space.”

She couldn’t help the smile on her face. “A ride out with my suitor. Will we not require a chaperone, Lord Seton?” Wasn’t that what he was now, her suitor? Or could she call him a beau? If Warders even courted women like mortal men.

He arched one eyebrow. “Bring Mouse. And as your suitor, I insist you call me Jasper. I’ve had enough of Lord Seton.”

Now it was her turn to frown. “That wouldn’t be proper. Even married couples rarely use Christian names. I could address you as Seton?”

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