Shieldwolf Dawning (2 page)

Mrs. Sairfang was breathless. "My darling boy!" She wrapped Cassian in a delicate hug. "I've missed you from here to the moon and back." Her expensive perfume wafted through the air. Her flowing red hair scattered painful memories in its trail.

Making his appearance moments later, Mr. Sairfang gave his best smile to Cassian. His eyes went numb when he saw Samarra. "Have you finished cleaning the attic?"

Samarra couldn't move. She gripped the back of the closest chair, expecting him to start shouting at her at any minute. "Not yet, Mr. Sairfang." She looked at everything in the room but his face. "I… I've been helping Cass unpack."

Mr. Sairfang's face softened at the mention of Cassian. "Well, you better get to it right after dinner." Blond strands fell out of their slicked position, and he brushed them back with a frown. "Or I'll have to break the promise I made to your mother before she died."

Samarra's breath got knocked out of her at the mention of her mother. Why was he doing this to her again?

"Mr. Sairfang…" Cassian said, trying to divert attention away from her like he always did.

"Yes?" Mr. Sairfang asked, and the two were soon absorbed in a conversation about boarding school.

It wasn't much longer before everyone took their assigned places at the dining room table and the first course was served. Dinner was abundant and largely uneventful. Four maidservants waited on Cassian's every request. Samarra, as always, was left to fend for herself. Although she was famished, she picked at her food without interest. Luckily the Sairfangs were too focused on Cassian to pay attention to her, so she imagined the fun she and her brother would have during his stay.

Her thoughts were interrupted when Mr. Sairfang stood up abruptly. "Cassian, why don't you meet me in the foyer in twenty minutes?" He turned to Samarra. "Stop daydreaming and clear the table." With a look of warning to Samarra, he excused himself and left the room. Mrs. Sairfang followed close behind.

"That was harsh." Cassian grabbed a tissue from his pocket.

"It's nothing compared to how he usually acts around me." Samarra played with her silk napkin. "She's worse. It's harder to pick out she's doing it because it's not always obvious, but I can tell… It's the look in her eyes." Samarra leaned closer. "You've been gone for what, six months?"

Cassian blew his nose. "Something like that."

The maidservants came in to clear the table. Samarra dropped her voice to a whisper. "Well, you missed out on the worst. They would save up their anger for the end of the day, when they would yell at me for all sorts of dumb reasons."

"Why would they do that?" he asked as if he didn't believe her.

Samarra shrugged. "I don't know. They don't like me. I bet it has something to do with our mother, but I can't be sure. It doesn't help that they never answer when I ask them questions about her — or our father, for that matter — so I can't ever find out the truth of it all. They don't even know her name. I tried to look for information online, but I couldn't find anything."

"What truth, Sammy?" Cassian asked in his typically calm manner. "That our parents died in a crash and the Sairfangs have been looking after us all this time?"

"It's not just that," Samarra insisted. "Don't you ever want to find out more about our parents?"

Cassian shook his head. "Stop being paranoid. There's nothing more than what we already know. Mr. Sairfang found us in an all-terrain aircraft that crashed off road. Our father died instantly in the head-on collision. Our mother died shortly after Mr. Sairfang pulled her from the wreckage and promised he would take care of us. It is what it is. You're too nosy for your own good."

"Whatever," Samarra said with a wave of her hand. "Okay then, get this — last night Mrs. Sairfang made me scrub your bathtub three times before she thought it was shiny enough." She jumped up and paced the room in a huff. "Why three times? You should have seen me afterwards. My nails were all chipped and caked with gross bits."

"What's the problem? It's not as if you care about that girly stuff anyway."

Samarra could tell her brother was teasing by the familiar twinkle in his eye. "I don't like froufrou things, but I do like clean nails. Anyway, enough of that." She sat back down. "I've missed you a lot. I hate it when you're away for so long."

"I wasn't gone for that long."

"Maybe not long for you, but I was counting down the days. I've been keeping track on my calendar. And now you're going again." She sank back into her chair and pouted. "I wish I went to boarding school too. There's nobody here I can hang out with, unless you count the guards, and they're no fun. All they ever want to do is stun things and eat doughnuts." Samarra sighed despondently. "Online school isn't the same as being in a room full of kids my own age, with a living breathing teacher instead of a robot. Robots are the most boring teachers in the world. The short ones are the worst. They drone on and on… Have you ever asked one what it dreams about? It stops responding and shuts down because it can never understand the question. It's sick!"

Cassian chuckled and dragged his chair closer to her. "Going to school down south isn't as great as you think. The seasons are all back to front, and the toilets flush the wrong way. I don't get to see much of anything because the teachers never let us leave the property. They say it's too dangerous. I spend my time on the school grounds, and that gets boring fast. There's nobody there as fun as you. I missed you too."

Samarra punched him lightly on the arm, grinning broadly. "You're just saying that to make me feel better."

"No, I'm not." Cassian stood up and buttoned his jacket. "I better find Mr. Sairfang. And you should do something about the stairs." He hugged her goodbye. "See you in a couple of days."

Samarra waved him off. Like a gust of wind, her brother had rushed in and out of her life once again.

The Green Tablet

Three days had passed and Samarra had seen no sign of Cassian. She had spent the entire afternoon either scrubbing floors or hunched over a sewing table with a needle and thread. Sewing was her least favourite chore, something Mrs. Sairfang could always tell from the haphazard stitching on her clothes. Samarra bit down securely on the pins clamped between her lips and measured Mrs. Sairfang's trouser hems.

"By the time you're old enough, I'll have taught you how to be a good wife." Mrs. Sairfang played with her hair and admired herself in the antique mirror.

Samarra groaned. She had been hearing that promise for months.

Mrs. Sairfang frowned. "Did you say something?"

Samarra's eyes were for the most part downcast. "No, Mrs. Sairfang."

"It might be a few years, but we will find you a suitable boy to marry."

Samarra rolled her eyes and checked to see if the hems were even. When she was done, she stretched her legs and stood at an open window. The fresh air was cool on her skin.

Mrs. Sairfang examined her face more closely in the mirror. Her jewelled fingers traced careful lines along her plumped cheek as she searched for signs of age and anything else that didn't belong. "The gardener's son is handsome enough, don't you think?"

Samarra gagged.

"Of course you'll have to do something about that hair of yours."

"What's wrong with my hair?" Samarra's heart dropped like a lump.

"What's wrong?" Mrs. Sairfang was incredulous. "It's not normal!"

"I've tried to dye it just like you told me to but the colour never sticks—" Samarra's voice caught in her throat. Her hands shook and she hung her shoulders dejectedly. "There's nothing I can do about it. I was born this way."

Mrs. Sairfang snorted. "For a price, everything can be changed these days." She went back to scrutinizing her own face. "Perhaps you'll grow out of it." Finally satisfied that her skin was soft and unblemished, she stepped away from the mirror and grabbed her trousers from the back of the chair.

Samarra picked up the mess of clothes on the floor.

"Tsk, tsk, Samarra." Mrs. Sairfang pointed out the light blue crisscrossing along the hem. "This won't do. How many times must I ask you to sew my hems with thread that blends into the fabric?"

"But that's so matchy-matchy." Samarra regretted what she'd said as soon as it came out of her mouth.

"Matchy-matchy?" Mrs. Sairfang's nostrils flared and her lips quivered.

Samarra held her breath in fear of what was to come. After all these years, she could not bring herself to trust Mrs. Sairfang. The not-very-nice woman was capable of anything. Anything at all! Although Samarra tried her best to block out the shrill, she could not dodge the cruel words that rushed out of the woman's mouth. Samarra wished she were somewhere else, anywhere else but here.

"How dare you speak to me like that!" Mrs. Sairfang screamed. "Who are
you
to criticize
me
?"

Samarra remained as quiet as a mouse and waited patiently for the dark mood to pass. This was not the first time Mrs. Sairfang had thrown a temper tantrum and Samarra knew it would not be the last.

"You make it so very difficult for me to like you," Mrs. Sairfang went on relentlessly. "I knew we shouldn't have taken you in. You never do as you're told, you don't care about rules, you're just … you're just an ungrateful child who knows nothing more than how to be a troublemaker."

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Sairfang. I didn't mean to offend you."

But Mrs. Sairfang didn't seem to believe her. Although Samarra's head was pounding and she was starting to anger, she knew from experience it was best to say no more.

When Mrs. Sairfang's temper finally settled, she dried her eyes and straightened her clothes, pulling her sleeve down to cover the tattoo on her forearm — a black wolf. Mr. Sairfang had one too. Neither had ever explained where or why they had gotten them done, not for lack of Samarra trying. "Mr. Sairfang will be back this afternoon," the woman said gaily, as if nothing out of the ordinary had just happened. "Have you cleaned out the attic yet?"

"No, Mrs. Sairfang."

"Well, you better get moving. We know how angry he gets when you don't do what he says." She giggled. "He's just like a big old bear, isn't he?"

Samarra forced a smile.

"Go on then."

"I'll get right to it." Before Samarra could leave, Mrs. Sairfang called out for her to wait.

"Yes, Mrs. Sairfang?" Samarra turned around in time to see a pair of trousers flying at her head. She caught them deftly before they hit her face.

"Do these ones again. I don't like to stand out in a crowd."

Samarra nodded and took the trousers to her room before she went to the attic.

****

The attic door swung open with a creak and Samarra entered the musty room. At the flick of a switch, the darkness dispersed into a dim glow. Everything she needed was placed neatly in the corner of the room, exactly where she had left the cleaning tools the day before. She grabbed the duster and went to work on the cobwebs. Not the most exciting task, but it kept her away from Mrs. Sairfang. Even when her arms grew sore, she kept working to keep her mind off her brother. When the cobwebs had all disappeared and her stomach started to rumble, Samarra headed downstairs to make herself lunch.

The chef greeted her with a warm smile when she entered the kitchen. He was patiently stirring a pot of steaming fish stew. His dark hair was tucked neatly under his chef's hat and his kind eyes always managed to put Samarra at ease. The mixed aromas of sautéed butter and freshly picked herbs filled the air with thoughts of food. Samarra's stomach rumbled. She was famished.

"Samarra!" he said jovially.

"Hey Jonas."

Jonas wiped his hands on his apron. "How are you today?"

"I'm good," she said, but the look of concern on Jonas's face indicated that he didn't believe her. He could always tell when she was upset even when she tried to hide it from the world.

"What's wrong?"

Samarra climbed onto a stool and rested her elbows on the kitchen counter. "I've missed Cass a lot. You know that, right?"

He nodded.

She slid the chopping board toward her and grabbed a loaf of fresh bread. "I'm really happy that Cass is back because things are always much better when he's around." Her voice trailed off.

"But?" Jonas asked.

"But… I can't help feeling something else at the same time. No matter what I do or say, the Sairfangs will never like me. Cass doesn't have to do a thing for them to love him. They even gave him their kin name. He gets everything he asks for even when he doesn't ask for it."

"I see. It sounds like you want to be part of the picture too, hmm?"

"That's probably it." Tears welled up behind her eyes, but she forced them away stoically. "I know they're getting him ready to run their company one day, and that means sending him to the best schools and all that stuff, but I want to do that too. Instead, I have to stay here and help out with the cleaning. It's not fair."

"No, it's not fair." Jonas placed a comforting hand on her arm.

"I still don't understand why they hate me so much. I try my hardest to do what they ask me to do, but it's never enough for them. I guess I should be grateful that they let me stay here, otherwise who knows where I'd be."

Jonas sat down next to Samarra. There was an easy silence. After a while, he tapped her on the arm.