by Lisa Rector
Well, that was folly. You see how much light Einion has. Though he is half-emrys and appears to be born with darkness, his light overpowers it. The darkness must emerge over time. I mean, it’s there, a tiny thread, but an infant is so pure, I can’t imagine he’d increase in darkness until the influences of the world weigh on him.
Like with the death of Niawen. That might have been a catalyst for Ahnalyn.
Aneirin nodded. Yes, and her imprisonment. A growl from Cephias rumbled through his thoughts. I’ve never supported their decision to keep the realms separate. I would have allowed Niawen back. Pregnant or not.
But you aren’t on the High Council. And you forget why she left in the first place. Don’t tell me that the guilt is not why you’re here. You can’t hide anything from your dragon, Brother.
But it’s my guilt. It’s my fault. Aneirin frowned, remembering the events that spurred Niawen to leave Gorlassar.
No, don’t start into this again. Niawen had her agency, and she used it. Don’t dig up old regrets that are not warranted.
Cephias, I’m bringing Ahnalyn home. How could they possibly stop me? What would they do, banish me?
A gull flew by the mouth of the cave, and Cephias let out a stream of fire. A crispy bird dropped into the sand. He scooped it up and popped it into his mouth. Aneirin waited for the crunching to stop. This was the usual carrying-on when you had a dragon sharing your thoughts.
I wouldn’t put it past them, Aneirin.
It doesn’t matter to me. My mind is made up.
I like it when you’re stubborn. It reminds me of Niawen.
Aneirin smiled. I know.
***
That evening Ahnalyn was alone after Einion fell asleep. Cross-legged, she sat on her pallet near the fire. Emlyn and Hadyn were snoring softly on their bed. Aneirin was out on the deck, possibly asleep as well.
The conversation with Aneirin burned bright in her mind, making sleep impossible. She’d been so irate. It felt as if Aneirin was attacking her and purposely scolding her about a life she never knew existed. The more Ahnalyn thought about it, the more she realized how childish her eruption had been. The initial vexation subsided and embarrassment washed over her. She didn’t know Aneirin, and she’d thrown a child’s tantrum in front of him. And he had wrapped his arms around her as if… How could she look at him after that? She harbored no ill feelings toward him. He had, after all, rescued her. Ahnalyn’s current situation was better than what it had been for months. And she was with her son. Einion needed her. She must remember this.
She would have liked to show Einion to her father. Owein never knew she was pregnant. No one did. Although Ahnalyn suspected her maid knew. She wondered if they could find Seren, go back and retrieve her father, and fly someplace far beyond Caedryn’s grasp.
Though she was frustrated that, after all the years of being in Ahnalyn’s head, Seren hadn’t told her she was a dragon, Ahnalyn knew she couldn’t leave Seren as a prisoner. She painfully remembered all too well what it felt like.
The time was as good as any to reach out to Seren. Unsure what she was doing, Ahnalyn closed her eyes, and imagined talking to Seren as if she were face-to-face. She wasn’t sure if she called out to her correctly. The visions and voices came on their own before, but then again, when she called out to her mother, hadn’t that been Seren? The exchange must be easier than she realized. Seren, Seren. Can you hear me?
Several minutes passed before Ahnalyn heard her voice.
Ahnalyn… The voice was weak and faint. Ahnalyn, I can hear you.
I cannot see anything, Ahnalyn said. Where are you? Are you all right?
I’m as well as one could be, given the circumstances. Aneirin was right to take you out of there. I wanted you safe.
Ahnalyn ignored the urge to accuse Seren of withholding the truth and now wanting to help Ahnalyn. What are your surroundings like? Do you know where you are?
I’m on a cold stone floor, and the space is tight and cramped. It might be a cave in the mountains. They must have transported me while I was unconscious. The air is cold and thin so it would be high in altitude, Seren said.
Cephias is out looking for you. I want a better estimation.
He’ll just have to search the mountains. I’ve nothing else to tell you.
Are there guards? Ahnalyn asked. Can you see the entrance of the cave and tell the direction of the sun?
No guards. I can see the cave’s entrance, but during the day the sun is too high in the sky for me to see its path. I’m sealed farther in the back by some sort of barrier. I cannot push through it. It’s energy.
If it’s an energy barrier, how will we rescue you? Ahnalyn worried, not knowing anything about energy.
You’ll figure it out. Aneirin is smart. He knows how to solve problems. Trust him, Ahnalyn. He’ll help you. You can rely on him. In the meantime, tell Cephias to remain calm. I’ll be all right.
I’ll relay this to Aneirin to pass on.
Ahnalyn, I know you’re upset. You can’t hide your feelings from me.
Ahnalyn pursed her lips in a tight line. You never told me you were a dragon.
Niawen made it clear that she wanted our worlds separate. She didn’t want you to know about Gorlassar. It would just cause pain to know about a world you couldn’t be a part of.
Ahnalyn opened her eyes and stared into the fire. What kinds of beings were these emrys? She couldn’t believe they’d exile her mother for falling in love with a human.
Would it have been so bad? I would have rather known the truth.
I’m sorry, Ahnalyn. After Niawen passed you our dragon stone, I decided I wouldn’t let anyone keep me from helping you. I made sure you were safe and gave you guidance from my limited point of view. Then you were married, and I could feel how happy you were. It wasn’t until recently I knew you needed help.
I’m glad you came for me. I forgive you for not telling me the truth. I’m going to find you. I promise. Caedryn won’t hurt anyone in my life again. Be patient. I’m sure Cephias will find you. He has a lot of ground to cover.
***
Aneirin stood on the deck in the darkness of a fine spring night. A slight breeze stirred the leaves, and the moon was full. The others were asleep in the hut. The quiet nights were the best time, when the Eilian were not rambling on, to think clearly. Many thoughts were going through his mind since he left Gorlassar. Aneirin had to admit, he’d had no idea what he was up against. When he saw Ahnalyn for the first time and fought Caedryn, he realized this was more than a rescue.
“Nothing to it,” Cephias had assured him. “You can discern Ahnalyn’s light. We’ll fly to her and retrieve her and be back in Gorlassar before the High Council can blink.”
It would have been so simple. His plan was to show Ahnalyn to the council and have them see for themselves that it would be foolish to forbid her from staying. She was a half-emrys, a Daughter of Light, a guardian of the dragons.
Aneirin sighed, light mixed with dark. He’d have to remedy this. It would be more convincing to the council if Ahnalyn didn’t carry so much darkness, which overpowered her light. The two energies sat entwined in her heart-center, the place where the energies originated. During the argument they had, the power flared inside her and her green eyes dimmed, indicating her balance between the energies was precarious. This was unknown territory. The emrys didn’t know anything about the half-emrys. Ahnalyn was the first one Aneirin had ever met.
He would take this to the High Emrys. She’d have better knowledge of the situation. Meinwen had a gift to see into the souls of others. If Ahnalyn was pure in heart, surely she could stay in Gorlassar—he hoped.
That’s a colossal if, Brother, Cephias said.
I thought you were asleep.
How could anybody sleep with you thinking so loud? You have too much time on your hands. Besides, I’m not sleeping. I’m looking for Seren, flying over a putrid swamp.
Tell me this, Cephias. What was Caedryn doing with Ahnalyn?
I don’t know, but I don’t like it. He’s powerful, Aneirin. I felt your strain against his blast in the fight.
And now he has Seren.
I’ll find her.
Why do you think Caedryn wants Seren? To lure Ahnalyn back? I don’t like how powerful he is. Look how he damaged her light. Aneirin started pacing the deck, clenching and unclenching his fists. The scumbag.
Pure evil, Aneirin. We’ve never encountered pure evil in Gorlassar before.
And he’s conquered the whole of Terrin! He must be stopped. If Caedryn was left to live and dominate with his power, what would be the result? The answer was obvious. The solution was simple. Caedryn would have to be destroyed. A man this powerful was dangerous.
Aneirin, do you realize what conclusion you’ve come to?
I do.
Are you sure you can face the consequences? Emrys have never destroyed, never taken a life. I can feel your ill humor, but I want you to say it.
Aneirin shuddered. He didn’t know how taking a life would affect his light.
He needs to be stopped, even if I have to kill him.
The night they rescued Ahnalyn, Aneirin had held her against his body for many hours. She had been physically worn down, her body constantly contorting from pain. Aneirin was saddened that he could do nothing for her. What had alarmed him even more was what he sensed inside Ahnalyn, total surrender to fear, to doubt—to the darkness. How could anyone carry this much darkness inside? She should have more light, even if she wasn’t pure emrys. Ahnalyn was cold. She was so cold. Light was fullness, pulsating energy, which made heat. Whereas darkness was empty and cold—a void. This much Aneirin could see. The emrys had been kept too ignorant of the outside realms. A greater knowledge of the dark power was needed.
Since Einion had been born, a new spark glimmered in Ahnalyn. Aneirin sensed the faint hope coming from her once she held her newborn son. There was always hope. Hope from new life. Einion was Ahnalyn’s bright spot.
As if he knew Aneirin was thinking about him, Einion let out a cry. Aneirin smiled and ducked inside the doorway of the hut and tiptoed over to the baby. Ahnalyn didn’t stir from her pallet, so he leaned over the cradle Emlyn proudly provided and scooped Einion up before he could wake anyone. Aneirin hummed to Einion as he carried him outside. This little one was full of light, positively pulsating it. Aneirin couldn’t help himself. He brought Einion to his face and kissed his fat cheeks.
After ten minutes, Ahnalyn came out. “I thought I might find him out here with you,” she said through a yawn. “At least I know if he’s not in his cradle, he’s in your arms.”
Aneirin’s face grew hot. He was grateful Ahnalyn couldn’t see his reaction in the dark. So I have a soft spot. He heard a chuckle in his mind. Apparently Cephias was still listening. Dragons and riders didn’t always have to be in each other’s heads, but sometimes they intruded unannounced. Knock it off! Don’t you have a deer to hunt or something?
“Let me rock him back to sleep.” Humming to him, Ahnalyn carefully eased Einion into her arms and took him back inside.
Twenty minutes later Ahnalyn came outside alone. “He’s asleep again, whereas you are not. You don’t sleep much do you?”
Aneirin cleared his throat. “It’s quiet at night.”
Ahnalyn let out a laugh. “Yes, I love our hosts. Grateful for them but they can carry a conversation… all day.”
Aneirin smiled. “Yes, they can.” He noticed Ahnalyn’s nervous, twisting hands.
“I wanted to apologize for earlier today. I shouldn’t have raised my voice at you. I’m sorry,” she said.
Aneirin noted that she didn’t retract her words, but he didn’t say anything. She had the right to be upset. “That’s fine. I understand. I’m sorry I made you feel so terrible. I could have handled it better.”
Ahnalyn waved her hand dismissively and turned to go inside.
“Wait, I want to show you something,” Aneirin said.
Ahnalyn gave a little squirm as if she was deliberating.
“Please,” Aneirin said, and she turned toward him. “Hold up your hand.” She complied without question. Aneirin turned her hand so the palm faced his with a narrow gap between them. His skin glowed brighter from an influx of energy as he pulled light from his heart-center and spread it into his palm. Aneirin pushed the pulsating light waves across the space and into her hand. “Can you feel that?”
“Yes,” Ahnalyn said. “It tickles.”
Aneirin thought he’d be bold. He clasped her hand, interlocking her fingers with his. Ahnalyn stepped back a little, shocked by his forwardness, but Aneirin held his grip firm.
“I can radiate my light into you, but without enough inclination to sustain the intensity, the energy will fade with time.” Thinking she’d be intrigued by her capabilities, Aneirin pushed more light into Ahnalyn with the intent to show her she could be a light-filled emrys.
But Ahnalyn stirred uneasily. Hot discomfort radiated off her body. Aneirin realized her distress and let his hand drop, causing the heat to disperse. She frowned at him.
Undeterred, Aneirin said, “Ahnalyn, I can feel a spark right there.” He touched her hand to her heart with his on top and lifted her other hand and pressed it to his chest. “Can you feel that? It’s the center from which my light radiates. It pulsates. It never fades. I’ve honed my skill with the light so it perpetuates. I do not allow it to diminish.”
A tear leaked from Ahnalyn’s eye. “I’m sorry.” She pulled her hand from his and turned away. Ahnalyn stared up into the moonlight and blinked back more tears.
Master of Light! He’d done it again. He excelled at offending. Aneirin stepped close behind her and spoke softly, near her ear. “I didn’t mean to make you feel less than your worth. I’m trying to show you how our light works. You can strengthen your light—”
He stopped. Aneirin had caught a scent of lavender and chamomile when the breeze stirred her hair. He blinked to clear his vision. Accentuating the line of her neck, Ahnalyn’s chin was tilted up to the moon. Her long hair cascaded down her back. Aneirin’s gaze traced the contours of her smooth jawline, down her bare neck to her collarbone—all highlighted by the moonlight. Ahnalyn looked as if she radiated light as she was supposed to.
A strange heat burned in the pit of his stomach. He stepped back. “No—I’m sorry. I’m pushing you too much tonight.” He stepped to the other side of the deck to give her space.
Aneirin watched Ahnalyn from the corner of his eye. She stood there, in a defiant effort to control her tears, but her chest shuddered in an act of treachery. Aneirin wanted to kick himself. Ahnalyn turned and, without a word, hurried inside.
Idiot! Aneirin thought.
Exactly what I was thinking, he heard back.
Aneirin skulked over, slumped down on his pallet, and looked into the starry sky. You’d think that in all my ninety-seven years I’d learn to control myself.
So, now who’s keeping who up? Cephias asked. I was nearly asleep.
I’m assuming you eavesdropped the whole time, Aneirin said.
It was hardly my fault. You were pushing out tender feelings. How could I shut my mind to that?
Argh. I was not being “tender” as you call it. I was teaching her about her light! Geez! The sudden wave of heat from watching Ahnalyn had startled him. The emotion was unexpected.
Think what you will. I’ll just keep my mouth shut.
You do that. Aneirin shut his mind to Cephias.
***
Ahnalyn evaded eye contact with Aneirin the next day.
Great, she’s leery of me. He wasn’t sure how he should bring up the awkward moment of light sharing and Ahnalyn’s emotional response—or his emotional response.
You should pretend it didn’t happen, Cephias said. Ahnalyn didn’t realize your little revelation.
And what was that little revelation? Aneirin asked.
You know to what I’m referring, Cephias cautioned. Your little spell. Don’t p
retend it didn’t happen.
Ahnalyn is not her mother, Aneirin said. This is different.
But it still hurts you just as much, Cephias recalled.
Aneirin knew Cephias was right. The old pain was still there. He would have to tread carefully. Ahnalyn was too much like Niawen. This could get messy.
It doesn’t have to.
After his conversation with Cephias, Aneirin thought he should stay clear of Ahnalyn for a while. He wasn’t ready to bring up old wounds from the past. Thinking about Niawen still hurt, and the time felt like only half a breath since she left Gorlassar. He should have left long ago to look for Niawen, and now she was gone forever.
Aneirin meandered along bridges going from deck to deck. The Eilian were quite clever with their treetop community, which spanned for miles in the center of the forest. If he didn’t have such an astute sense of direction, he’d be lost.
Little Eilian after little Eilian stopped Aneirin and engaged him in conversation as he passed with a “How do you do?” or “Mighty fine weather, don’t ya think?” More than one little, round woman, after wiping soil-covered hands on a white apron, hauled Aneirin inside for a bite to eat. They were excited to talk to an emrys. Well, Aneirin concluded, they were excited to talk to anyone. Children asked if they could see the dragon, and they ended up chasing Aneirin across the bridges and around the decks.
At length, in the late afternoon, Aneirin was returning to Emlyn and Hadyn’s hut when Cephias called out to him.
Aneirin, I see some disturbing developments. South of the capital, an army is assembled. Here, see for yourself.
Aneirin stopped, swinging midway on a wooden bridge. He grabbed the rope for support as an Eilian squeezed by him, mumbling about stopping the flow of traffic. Aneirin’s view of the trees gave way and an image of the plains opened before his eyes. On the grassy lowlands at the edge of the wilderness, tent after tent were lined up in tight rows. Men lumbered around, tending horses, sharpening weapons, and cooking at fires. Swords clanked together in mock combat. Aneirin noticed flags flying in the color of black and red—Rolant’s colors. Aneirin remembered them from Caedryn’s citadel.
