Ghalien: A Novel of the Otherworld

by Johnson, Jenna Elizabeth

  Before she even finished her speech, my entire essence had already rejected her proposition. She had set me up, leaving me practically nothing to wear to this meeting, for the sole purpose of parading me about like a stud horse. A wave of hot fury swept over me, but I wasn't about to show my irritation. Instead, I stood my ground, glaring at her as she continued.

  "You would not be needed that often, and surely the Morrigan could spare you. The weather effects us all, does it not? Even the war goddess must understand the importance of our existence. And you are Ehriad. You belong to no one."

  I growled low in my throat, a sound that grew from deep within my chest. I doubted Jarda heard it, but surely my eyes told her everything. Oh, you are wrong Maithar, very wrong. I may not belong to anyone, but my heart most certainly does . . .

  She must have sensed my sudden change in temper because she lifted a pale hand, her storm grey robes flowing around her like a cloud.

  "Please Caedehn, you are perfect for the job. You have strong glamour, that is apparent from the way you dispatched that horrid draghan, and you have kindness about you, from what I hear, despite what tales have been told of your exploits."

  "I cannot," I gritted out. "That is not who I am. I will not barter myself out and father children I will never be able to call my own."

  And I will not betray Meghan, I added to myself. True, she had no idea I felt this way about her, but that didn't change a thing.

  Jarda pulled her hand back to let it hang by her side.

  "You pass up a once in a lifetime offer, Cade. Most men would leap at the opportunity."

  Her voice was cold and precise, and once again, she reminded me of my mother. That only renewed my resentment.

  I shifted my weight and stretched to my full height. Jarda rocked back just enough to let me know she registered my counter threat. "I am not most men," I said, my voice deep. "You have my answer. Now, I ask that you allow me to bid you farewell. My sister and travel mates wait for me. They've been away from the Weald for too long, and I have responsibilities other than those promised to the Morrigan."

  The Maithar stood and splayed her hands on the desktop. There was a battle going on beneath the surface, her face and body language said as much. She was torn between irritation at not getting her way and her obligation to follow decorum and thank me for the deed my companions and I performed. In the end, etiquette won out.

  "Very well, Caedehn. I thank you for your service to us and extend an invitation to visit our sanctuary again."

  She paused and looked me in the eye. "And know that my other invitation remains open, should you change your mind."

  Jarda turned and reached for a cord running up the wall. She grasped it and pulled twice, and the loud clang of a bell filled the cavern.

  "Two of my acolytes will escort you to your friends."

  Not wanting to stay in her presence a moment longer, I nodded once and turned on my heel. As I stepped through the door and made my way down the long hallway toward the exit, I felt the gaze of many pairs of eyes digging into my back. Ignoring them, I continued on, wondering if the Maithar had told her students of her plans for me. As she promised, two young women waited at the hall's grand entrance. They curtseyed and walked ahead of me down the stone staircase.

  Thirteen

  Ghalien

  When the fresh, open air hit my skin, I nearly groaned in relief. Despite the sanctuary's beauty and brightness, it was still a cavern and it had still pressed down upon me. It didn't take us very long to reach Enorah and the others, for someone had built a fire to cook breakfast. The two girls curtseyed again and I murmured a word of thanks before they turned to climb back up the trail.

  "Cade!" Rhyne cried out, standing up to greet me.

  My return smile was genuine, though I felt a coldness in it.

  "How is your leg faring?"

  "Well," Rhyne answered, looking me up and down with an amused gleam in his eyes. "Nice outfit. Trying to impress the Amsihria?"

  I fought the urge to decorate him with a few bruises, but just barely.

  "No. Someone took off with my pack, so I had to borrow from their wardrobe. This is the only thing that would fit me."

  "It looks good on you, brother."

  Enorah stood up from a boulder she'd been using as a seat and strode over.

  I glared at her, ready to unleash a tirade of accusing words, but all that was pushed right out of my system when she threw her arms around me, trapping me in a fierce hug.

  "I was so worried, Cade," she whispered, her voice tainted with tears. "You looked so awful after the fight with the draghan. I thought you two had killed each other."

  She released me and held me at arm's length, examining me as Rhyne had, only her amused look was that of a sister ready to tease her brother. Whatever she was going to say stayed buried, however.

  "How is Devlin?" I asked, glancing up. The last time I'd seen him he'd taken a bad hit from the draghan.

  "Fine, but a little sore," he said, standing up from where he'd been sitting. Bandages covered his left hip and lower abdomen, and Fenrah had to give him a hand up. "Battle scars to impress the ladies," he added with a smile, patting his wound and grimacing.

  "Will you be able to travel?" I asked.

  "Oh yes. If my little brother can do it with a broken leg, then I most certainly can with a few scrapes."

  Enorah furrowed her brow. "A few scrapes? Try five deep lacerations that required many stitches."

  "Rhyne was able to take away most of the pain with his glamour," Devlin grumbled.

  "Breakfast is almost ready," Fenrah announced, breaking up the fast approaching dismal mood. "Are you hungry?"

  Was I ever. "Yes."

  "We'll need tea," Enorah said. "Cade, do you want to help me get some water? Oh, and your pack is over there, if you want to change."

  She grinned at me and I grabbed my bag, grumbling about bothersome sisters.

  Enorah led me down the hill and we eventually came upon the stream that ran past the Amsihria's sanctuary.

  "So, how are you really," she asked as she bent down to fill up the water skins.

  Only my sister had the knack for reaching beyond my bland facial expressions and seeing what I kept hidden beneath.

  Taking a deep breath, I murmured, "The Maithar offered me a place as the Amsihria's rithair, their consort."

  A long pause followed where nothing disturbed the silence except for the gentle trickle of water and chatter of birds.

  "And?" Enorah asked eventually, her lips pressed tight to suppress her mirth.

  I couldn't help it, I gave in and released a small chuckle. "I know, ridiculous, right?"

  My sister cut her own laughter short and wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. "Oh no, my dear, handsome brother. Not ridiculous at all."

  I gave her a terse look but she adopted that stern expression that had always kept me in line before I came to live with the Dagda.

  "Why must you always downplay your worth, Caedehn?"

  Her voice was so soft and full of emotion I almost pulled her into another hug. She may have been my older sister and the closest thing to a mother I'd ever had, but despite her unwavering strength, every now and then she needed to borrow some of mine.

  I should have hugged her, but instead I only shrugged. "It's a hard habit to break when you've only been nurtured on regret and hatred most of your life."

  Enorah could only nod somberly as she threw a few twigs into the stream. We watched them float away, disappearing over a rocky precipice.

  "So, I assume you turned the Maithar down."

  I nodded.

  "Why? Most of the Faelorehn men I know would accept in a heartbeat."

  "Jarda said the same exact thing." I smiled softly and picked up another twig to send down the creek with its brethren.

  "So? Why not accept? It wouldn't be such a bad life."

  Because, despite the constant barrage of my common sense, I've already given my heart away. I di
dn't say it out loud, but Enorah must have read it on my face.

  "This Faelorehn girl you've found in the mortal world, Meghan, correct? You would never consider accepting their offer because of her."

  I nodded again. For some situations, words weren't necessary and this was one of them.

  Enorah turned her head to look at me, and from the way her posture changed I could tell she saw far more than what I meant for her to see.

  "Then I am glad," she simply said. "It proves you are made of stronger stuff than most."

  We were silent for several minutes as I helped Enorah fill more of the water skins. Once we were done, I grabbed my pack and made to walk toward a screen of shrubs.

  "You are her Ghalien," Enorah said to my back, her voice tinged with calm pride, "her heart-warrior."

  Turning, I gave my sister a beleaguered look. She must have been studying me far closer than I realized because my mind had been entirely focused on Meghan. Ever since leaving that cave, knowing that the task of dealing with the draghan was over, I had one goal in mind: to return to Luathara and venture into the mortal world to check on the young Faelorehn woman who lived there.

  Releasing a great sigh, I answered my sister. "Enorah, that is such an archaic term. And a bit melodramatic, don't you think?"

  Enorah shook her head. "You are, Cade, whether you are willing to admit it or not. You would give your life for hers; sacrifice everything for her heart. Tell me this isn't true."

  I wanted to deny what she said; to tell her she was wrong. Not because it was a lie or an exaggeration but because it was true. And it terrified me because I had never felt this way about anyone before. In all my long life, never had I been so bound to another's spirit.

  Feeling defeated, I lowered my head and sighed deeply. The forest around us had grown quiet and all I could hear was the fierce pounding of my heart and my sister's soft breathing.

  Enorah crossed her arms and cast me a mischievous look.

  "I think the next time you go visit this Meghan of yours, you should wear only that kilt. Those two Amsihria girls almost tripped over their tongues as they escorted you to our campsite earlier."

  I shot my sister a perturbed look, but her smug expression and narrowed eyes were no match for my ire. Enorah's bark of laughter only made it worse. Gritting my teeth, I growled, "I have a feeling it would have the opposite effect on her." I gestured toward the lacerations and bruises that decorated my torso.

  She stopped laughing abruptly and just blinked at me. "Caedehn, I am your sister, and as much as it pains me to say this, you are an absurdly handsome young man. Well, maybe not so young, but I have a feeling that although she might not be as obvious about it as the women in our world, she would notice, and take note of your looks."

  It was my turn to snort. "Yes, and when she finds out what I'm really capable of? What then?" Meghan very well may enjoy looking at me, but if that's all I was to her, an object to be appreciated for its aesthetic purposes only, then how did that make her any different than the Maithar and all the others who regarded me the same way? The very idea that Meghan might not be interested in seeing beyond the surface of my skin terrified me, but it kept me safe as well. The less she knew about my true nature, the better.

  All humor fled from Enorah's face and I winced with regret. I never realized how hard I was on myself unless someone else was around to point it out. Or care. Enorah and the Dagda were the most reliable when it came to reminding me that there were people who cared about me. I released another deep breath, one of many I'd been holding in since I'd hiked up this gods-cursed mountain. I always tried to be careful about how I regarded myself around my sister and foster father, and that was one of the reasons I seldom visited either of them. But despising myself had become so second nature that I didn't even realize I was doing it anymore, and it only made matters worse when I forgot that fact around Enorah.

  "Oh Cade, when are you going to learn that everyone has something disturbingly wrong with them? No one is perfect, not even the Tuatha De. I know you've had the worst of luck when it comes to women, but maybe this time it'll be different. Maybe, because this girl grew up away from Eile, she'll see you for who you truly are."

  I gave her a half-hearted smile. That's what I most yearned for, and what I was most afraid of. "I am the Morrigan's slave, Enorah. How can I ever have anything to offer to someone like Meghan? An innocent girl who has been dragged into the turmoil that is my life. I am Ehriad, a man who doesn't even belong to himself."

  "No," Enorah shook her head, her eyes swimming with tears, "that is not true. You are a man who sacrifices his freedom every day to protect a sister who has done far more evil than he has."

  My jaw clenched and I could feel my riastrad begin to boil in my blood, despite the fact my glamour still needed to be replenished.

  "You were young Enorah, and you had no control of your actions," I growled.

  I would have said more, but Enorah shook her head in stubborn older sisterhood and gave me a hard glare. "If I can learn to live with my dark past, then so can you, Caedehn MacRoich. Stop putting yourself down and get back to the mortal world and show that girl what all the rest of us see in you."

  It wasn't the world's best pep talk, and it didn't take away all of my doubts, but Enorah always managed to knock some sense into me, no matter how senseless I might have become.

  Giving myself a good mental shake, I flashed her a brilliant smile and held up my pack. "Mind if I change first? I don't want to give Fenrah any false ideas, and I'd hate to damage Rhyne's and Devlin's egos."

  Enorah picked up a stick and threw it at me. "Yes, please do. Your vanity disgusts me."

  Once I was comfortably in my normal garb, Enorah and I trekked back up the hill, laughing and pestering each other like two small children.

  Devlin, Rhyne and Fenrah eyed us curiously, but didn't say anything. I got the impression that over the course of this journey they had grown accustomed to our banter. Breakfast was simple, but filling, and once we had cleaned up and doused the fire, we were on our way. Rhyne was doing a much better job of getting around, but I did notice that Devlin struggled a little more than usual. When we paused for a break and Fenrah offered to help him change his bandages, I got a good glimpse of the damage. Hissing in empathy, I cleared my throat and said, "Those will definitely leave scars."

  Devlin only shrugged, one corner of his mouth turned upward. "It isn't too bad, and it was worth it."

  I nodded. "Did they find the missing girl?"

  Devlin's face grew dark and the ghost of the smile vanished. He hunched his shoulders and sighed. "They found what was left of her."

  I winced. Poor thing.

  "However, the Maithar held a beautiful memorial service for her. I think she did it for my benefit more than anyone else's."

  He shrugged and looked up at me. "Perhaps she isn't as stone-hearted as she seems."

  I can't say I agreed with him, but then again, I could be wrong.

  We took our time returning home, since all of us had injuries to recover from. Beside's Devlin's lacerations, Rhyne's fracture, and my general lack of energy, Fenrah and Enorah had some abrasions and burns to add to the list. Fenrah's burns were the worst, one of her arms bandaged from wrist to shoulder.

  "Just on the outside," she told me when she caught me eyeing the bandage curiously. "And the burn isn't too bad, just the top layer of skin," she amended.

  That sounded bad enough, but I was grateful the burn didn't run deeper.

  On the fourth day of our journey, we entered the Weald once again and it felt as if a great weight had been lifted from our shoulders. This time, we steered clear of inviting meadows that might harbor tolgrah traps and kept a constant lookout for danger. The days passed and blended together, the summer beginning to show its last colors. Then finally, after nearly six weeks of being absent, we stepped off of the path and into the village square. The Wildren met us with enthusiastic cheers and an incessant flow of questions about our grand
adventure soon followed. I excused myself from the joyful chaos to find a quiet spot so that I could contact Fergus.

  How is Meghan? I asked as soon as I felt the hound's familiar presence in my mind.

  Well. Where have you been all this time? I expected you sooner.

  We got held up, was all I could say.

  Will you come to the mortal world soon?

  I sighed and glanced up at the canopy far above me, the broad leaves dappled with green and gold. Seeing Meghan with my own eyes had been my number one priority for the past several weeks, but I had never factored in suffering from another bout of my battle fury. And the long journey back had not been enough to get me back to my usual self. If I hadn't used my riastrad when dealing with the draghan, then perhaps I could leave for the mortal world right now.

  I wish I could, I admitted, but I'm afraid I should let myself heal for another week or so. Think you can manage to survive without me until then?

  Fergus's terse reply hit me like a sharp pain behind my eyes.

  I should think so, he sent. You must look your best when greeting the young Meghan again, after all.

  The hairs on the back of my neck bristled. What is that supposed to mean?

  Whatever you take it to mean.

  Grinding my molars, I stood up from the stump I'd been sitting on and started back toward the village.

  I'll send word when I'm on my way, but feel free to let me know of any developments, should they come up.

  Of course.

  I severed my connection with Fergus and braced myself for the onslaught of activity that awaited me in the Wildren's township.