His gaze drifted to Mother. Not a single emotion crossed his features until his gaze landed on the necklace. Something flickered in his gaze, a pain so deep it hurt to witness. But it disappeared before he turned back to the window.
“Remove it,” he said after a moment. “The dead need no ornaments. It will only incite thieves to disturb her grave.”
“Yes, Father,” I said softly, not bothering to refute his logic. A thief wouldn’t know which graves might contain jewels until after they checked.
The moment my fingers touched the cold green stone, a bolt of heat seared my fingers. I gasped and released the jewel. The color swirled as it settled back on Mother’s skin. I stared in horror and understanding. The glint I’d witnessed when Kellen put the necklace on Mother hadn’t been a play of light. It’d been magic.
A sickening feeling settled into my stomach as I removed the necklace, avoiding the stone. I went to Father, my heart breaking with the possibility that he’d been so desperate to ease her suffering that he’d actually killed the woman I knew he loved very deeply.
Stepping in front of him, I held up the necklace and struggled not to cry.
“Why did you send this, Father? Why now?”
His gaze held mine for a long moment before going back to the trees behind me.
“I did not send it to your mother. Judith said that the last gift overtaxed her and warned me to send no more. If you will excuse me, there is much for me to do and very little time. I will see you at dinner.”
He turned and strode from the room, leaving me with more questions than answers. I lifted the fine chain in my hand and studied the stone. If Father hadn’t sent the necklace, who had?
I left the room and headed for the stairs. Kellen needed to know what had happened. Together, we could figure out who—
I stopped on the steps and looked down at the necklace. I couldn’t tell Kellen. Ever. I knew how her mind worked and what she would think the moment I told her my suspicion that the necklace had killed Mother. Kellen had been the one to place the necklace around our mother’s neck. And if Kellen knew the stone had ended Mother’s life prematurely, she would never forgive herself.
My grip tightened on the chain as helplessness sparked anger.
As quietly as I could, I went to Mother’s room and placed the offending necklace in her box of jewelry. My mind raced as I stared blindly at her other baubles. Who would have cause enough to want her dead? The need to know consumed me. I needed to find that delivery boy. Or maybe not. Perhaps I could deduce who if I knew the why.
I left the room and wandered the house. Try as I might, I couldn’t think of a single reason why anyone would want Mother dead. She was—had been—a kind person. In recent years, she no longer went to town because she wasn’t able, so she’d never had the opportunity to offend anyone. And, those who chose to come see her had always been graciously welcomed and treated like a dear friend. There hadn’t been many of those visits, either. Other than Judith and Anne, Mother had no dear friends. No family beyond us girls, either.
When Judith called me for dinner, Father and Kellen were already seated in the dining room. Candles lit the table, and a fire crackled in the fireplace.
As soon as I took my seat, Father gestured that we should begin eating. Since Mother’s death, nothing appealed to me. But, I picked up my fork and took a bite, determined not to give Kellen any reason to suspect something was wrong.
After several silent minutes, Father spoke.
“We cannot undo what’s been done. Our only option is to carry on and make the best of the circumstances in which we find ourselves. That was something your mother once said to me long ago. And she was right. That is why, tomorrow, I leave for my new venture. I know this won’t be an easy time for you, and I’m sorry for that. I’ve made arrangements for someone to stay with you until I return.”
“And how long will that be?” Kellen asked, her tone formal and indifferent. I knew better. She was angry.
“I’m not certain,” he said.
I wasn’t sure how I felt. I loved Father, and he had always put our needs before his own, working tirelessly to ensure we wanted for nothing. Yet, now when we most needed him to stay, he was set on leaving. His departure would surely be seen by the gossips as the abandonment it was. His disregard for Mother and us sparked my temper fiercely. Yet, if someone killed Mother, I would not ask him to stay. Without knowing who wanted Mother dead, I couldn’t be certain Father wasn’t also at risk. It was best that he was leaving.
“Where will this venture take you?” I asked, thinking that perhaps he might take us with him this time. It could be an adventure.
“To the kingdom of Turre.”
My mouth dropped open.
“Surely you jest,” I said. “That would take you through—”
“The Dark Forest. I know.” He calmly took a bite of his roast.
I stared at him in shock, my thoughts colliding. Nothing good lived in the aptly named Dark Forest that ran from mountain range to mountain range, separating the kingdom of Drisdall from the kingdom of Turre. Kellen and I had grown up hearing tales of travelers who entered the dark depths never to return, and we listened to the faint, mournful howls on still nights.
“If you go, you will die,” Kellen said, setting down her fork. “Is losing one parent not enough? Must we lose both?”
“Don’t go, Father,” I added. The possibility of a threat to his life if he remained was far better than the certainty of what he would face in the Dark Forest.
He sighed heavily.
“There is no need for such dramatic theatrics. You both know travelers passed through the Dark Forest at one time. I mean to establish a route again. Think of the trade possibilities. The riches. I heard rumor that the forest isn’t as inhospitable as it once was. If that’s true, it’s more important than ever that I leave immediately. He who controls the route controls the trade.”
Kellen looked down at her food, her cheeks flushed.
“Do not leave us, Father,” I said again.
“My mind is set. I leave tomorrow after sunrise.”
Chapter Three
I held Kellen’s hand as Hugh shoveled dirt over Mother’s coffin. Father stood at the head of her grave where a wooden marker now stood. A weak orange light filtered in through the trees and painted the clear blue sky. It was a beautiful day. A beautiful, terrible, heartbreaking day.
When Hugh finished, he nodded to us and left quietly.
Father hadn’t said anything when he’d joined us outside and said nothing still. He stared down at the fresh earthy mound, once again closed off.
Kellen gave my hand a light squeeze and walked away. I was grateful she’d left before Father. At some point during my restless night, I’d decided to tell him about the necklace. It was something I should have done in the first place. I’d been too shocked to think clearly the day before, though.
“Father, there’s something you should know.”
He looked up at me.
“I believe the necklace killed Mother. Her eyes glowed the moment it settled around her neck. I thought it was a trick of the light, but when I touched it yesterday, I felt something. Magic, I think.”
Father stepped toward me and grabbed my arms, his grip bruising.