by Lisa Rector
Ahnalyn didn’t know why she took the knife. She looked at Gethen and down at Brenin, who was white and rasping with breath.
Why not? she thought. Peculiar energy surged through her body, out her arms, and into her fingertips. She held the knife over Brenin’s heart and plunged down with all her might…
Daylight was breaking over the ridge and shining into the cave when Ahnalyn gasped awake.
It was a dream. It wasn’t real. Ahnalyn sobbed, hiding her face in her hands.
Aneirin stirred, his head still on Ahnalyn’s lap.
“If I wasn’t in so much pain”—Aneirin cringed—“I might have enjoyed waking up to such a pretty face.”
Ahnalyn dropped her hands. “You’re delirious. You were hit in the head too hard.”
“No, you don’t know how beautiful you are.” Aneirin smiled weakly. Shaking, he reached up, touched her wet cheek, and wiped a tear away. “Don’t cry. We’ll survive this… Do you mind telling me what happened?”
Cephias and Seren lay curled up nearby, their eyes fixed on Ahnalyn and Aneirin during the exchange. They explained what happened after Lord Caedryn smashed Aneirin against the wall: his demands, how he touched Ahnalyn’s head, and what he said to her. The dragons explained that when Caedryn left, their constraints fell loose. Cephias had charged the entrance to find a new barrier in place at the cave’s mouth.
Ahnalyn waited, too tired to participate and too filled with shame to say anything without causing more tears.
“What does he mean he passed a great legacy to you?” Aneirin asked.
Of course he wouldn’t miss that detail. Ahnalyn didn’t answer. She closed her eyes and turned her head away from Aneirin, not wanting to acknowledge what it meant.
Aneirin lifted his head off Ahnalyn’s lap and rolled onto his side, pausing for a second before pushing up to sit. He touched her chin tentatively. “Caedryn’s your father?”
Refusing to meet his gaze, Ahnalyn still didn’t answer.
“Ahnalyn, look at me! Do you trust me? Look at me now. Listen to what I’m telling you,” Aneirin said.
Releasing a frustrated puff of air, Ahnalyn turned her head slowly to meet Aneirin’s flawless, handsome features smudged with dirt and blood. She looked into his brilliant green eyes.
“I’m telling you it doesn’t matter. I’m telling you his blood does not matter. He was not a father to you. Don’t listen to anything he says. Your father is the man who raised you.”
“Are you forgetting about the darkness I inherited from Caedryn?” Ahnalyn’s voice rose. “Are you telling me it doesn’t matter?”
“Are you forgetting about the light you received from your mother? Can’t you see? You can choose whether you want to follow the light or follow the darkness. Can’t you see—you can make this choice!” Aneirin yelled back. He grimaced and clutched his head.
Ahnalyn pulled away and stiffly rose, staggering to the water puddle.
“I knew,” she heard Seren say. “I knew he was your father. I left Niawen with him. She refused to listen to me. I told her Caedryn was evil. But she stayed. And I left her there.” Seren’s voice cracked.
Ahnalyn thought Seren might be crying. She’d never heard a dragon cry before.
She knelt and lifted water to her mouth. How could they understand? Her father, Tad, the strong, caring man, whom she loved so much, was not her father. Her flesh and blood had lied and betrayed her. All lies. She slapped the surface of the water, splashing droplets over her skirt. Liars!
She stood, and Aneirin was right behind her. He wrapped his arms around Ahnalyn, clutching her to his body. At first, Ahnalyn limply stood there. How she wished she could believe what Aneirin said! I can’t. I just can’t. How can I choose the light over the darkness when it’s already so much a part of me? She burst into tears and cried against his shoulder.
After her tears subsided, Aneirin spoke. “I can’t begin to understand Niawen’s reasons for concealing the truth from you. Niawen was a good person. I know you feel betrayed, Ahnalyn, but she would have had good reason. She loved you.”
Ahnalyn hiccoughed and broke their contact. “I don’t want to talk about it. Leave me alone.”
But she approached Seren, wrapped her arms around Seren’s great dragon neck, and leaned her head against the toasty scales. “Seren, you did what you thought was right. We all make our choices.”
“I could have stayed. I could have brought her home.”
Ahnalyn ran her hand down the bridge of Seren’s snout and looked into her shining vermilion eye. “We all make the wrong choice at one point or another. Let’s just move forward and try to escape. I don’t want to spend another minute anywhere near Caedryn.”
“Hear, hear,” Cephias said.
***
Ahnalyn stood by the creek in her sheep pasture as the breeze blew her hair and whipped it around her face. Lord Brenin gazed into her eyes, her hand in his. He reached up to brush the windblown strands of hair out of her vision.
“You’re so beautiful,” he said. “Unlike any woman I’ve ever met.”
Ahnalyn blushed. “My lord, you do not know what you’re talking about.”
“I want you to be my wife. Will you marry me?”
Ahnalyn blushed again.
Lord Brenin’s hazel eyes grew dark. He hissed. “Emrys, you will have my immortal children, and my kingdom will rule forever.” He pulled her roughly into his arms.
Unable to pull away, Ahnalyn twisted in his grasp. “No! You’re hurting me. Let go!” She screamed…
Ahnalyn jolted awake. Wrapped in just her cloak, her body hurt from lying on the cold, rocky floor. She’d fallen asleep again, but glancing outside at the bright light flooding the cave entrance, Ahnalyn realized the day was late afternoon.
“What happened, Ahnalyn?” Aneirin asked, concern in his voice.
“He’s terrorizing me in my sleep,” Ahnalyn cried out. “Caedryn’s twisted my memories.” Twisting and turning them on me. Why won’t he leave me alone?
As if Ahnalyn were still in the cell, she heard Caedryn’s slimy voice in her memories, whispering… Ahnalyn…
She dug her fingernails into her scalp and screamed.
Aneirin rushed over to Ahnalyn and pried her hands off her head. “Ahnalyn! Stop. Stop screaming. Don’t let Caedryn win. Don’t let him do this to you.” He pulled her against his chest.
Ahnalyn clamped her mouth shut, her voice hoarse. She closed her eyes and listened to his heartbeat, remembering another time when her head was against someone else’s heart. This heartbeat had given her strength, causing her to feel safe. Ahnalyn listened for this against Aneirin. Her breathing slowed, and she settled in his arms.
“When are we going to be freed?” she sobbed. “I want to go home.”
“I know,” Aneirin whispered. He stroked her hair. “I know. I’m working on it. I need my head to heal more before I use my power on the barrier. My light is consumed with healing my injury. The blow literally knocked the excess light out of me, so to speak.” He laughed, but it was weak.
“Will that work?” Ahnalyn smiled at his feeble joke.
Pacing the cave in shuffling steps, Cephias halted. “You bet it’ll work. We’ll break out of here. Just you wait, Ahnalyn, until Aneirin works his magic.” He stretched his wings and knocked Seren in the head.
“Will you stop that?” Seren asked.
“My wings are cramping up,” Cephias replied. “I don’t know how you could stand being cooped up all those days. This is torture.”
“Don’t remind me. I’d like to forget it,” Seren said.
“Aneirin, I can’t stand the silence in my head. It’s too quiet,” Cephias grumbled.
“Tell me about it,” Aneirin said. “Actually… it’s nice.”
“Funny… We need our dragon stones back. Why would Caedryn take them? What does he have to gain with our dragon stones?” Cephias asked.
“I don’t know,” Aneirin replied.
“Ah, have yo
u figured it out?” an icy voice asked at the mouth of the cave.
Lord Caedryn was back, standing outside the barrier. Instead of wearing his cloak and robe, he wore black leather stitched with ruby-colored thread. He was lean, but his attire showed sinewy legs and arms. He brought steepled fingers to his lips and pressed them together.
Cephias growled and Seren hissed. Ahnalyn stumbled to her feet and met Caedryn at the entrance of the cave. She pressed her hands against the barrier. Aneirin followed behind her.
“You’re not my father,” Ahnalyn said.
“I’m not? Come now, Daughter, can’t you see how alike we are? You have my dark hair, my thin lips, and my tiny nose. My long, tapered fingers. You’re more like me than your mother. What did you inherit from her? Green eyes, pssh—most emrys have green eyes. Fair skin”—he waved his hand—“the same as every emrys.”
Ahnalyn clenched her fists and pounded on the barrier. If it wasn’t there, she would have gladly pounded on Caedryn. I hate him!
Aneirin grabbed her shoulders, steadying her. He whispered, “Calm down, he’s goading you. It increases your anger, thus increasing your darkness.”
Caedryn leaned in. “Your emrys is wise. Don’t listen to him. You like the passion fueling you, Ahnalyn. It makes you feel alive. But the dark power is more than anger. Give in to it, and I will show you.”
Madness brimmed at the edge of Ahnalyn’s mind, and she gripped her head and moaned. Go away. Leave me alone! This was how he tormented her during her imprisonment, with the constant parading of words. She could no longer tell whether they were lies or truths.
Aneirin slipped his arms around her. “Leave her alone, Caedryn.”
“Ah, her protector. Don’t think I don’t know about you. Niawen told me all about her family and friends in Gorlassar. I convinced her they would never take her back. You should tell Ahnalyn why Niawen left. She would be greatly interested in what all of you have neglected to tell her.”
Aneirin growled. “You fiend!”
Ahnalyn looked at him, stunned that the sound came from him—like a dragon. Like Cephias.
Great—more lies, she thought.
Caedryn clapped his hands together. “You have more to discuss, and since Seren has yet to produce an egg…” He narrowed his eyes. “Don’t try any heroics. I’ve located my grandson. I could easily retrieve him.”
“No,” Ahnalyn said. “Leave him alone.”
“He’s bluffing,” Aneirin said. “Einion’s safe.”
“Are you a fool? I can discern the same light you can, Aneirin. I’ve been following you this entire time: Ahnalyn to the treetop village, you down to Talfryn, you flying here, and Einion staying there. Light discerns light, and if you would open your eyes, you’d see what you’ve been blind to this whole time.”
Aneirin blinked. “You’re a half-emrys.”
Caedryn waved his hands in the air. “Ta-da! Though it’s minute, I possess enough of the light to make it useful. It’s weak, but it serves its purpose. Ahnalyn, you believe that I’m evil. The dark power that flows within is not all evil. It’s matter that can be harnessed. I’m but a humble wielder of its might. Believe me when I say I want my family. You can rule Terrin, and Einion can rule Talfryn. We’ll rule the three realms together!”
“With the darkness, you mean,” Ahnalyn said.
“No, with power. Our reign will be glorious and eternal.”
“You’re insane.”
“Once I kill Sieffre’s sons in battle, his only heir will be Einion. He will be legitimate.”
“You don’t care about lineage, don’t act like it matters.”
“You would be with Seren,” Caedryn said. “If she lays an egg, then I would have my dragon and you yours. We’ll hatch an egg for Einion. You see, Ahnalyn, this is what you want. You can govern Terrin as you see fit. Hyledd would welcome you as its queen.”
“Don’t listen to him, Ahnalyn,” Aneirin said. “He’s spouting falsehoods. He would rule you, and you’d be under his power.”
“My dearest Ahnalyn, look at you. I can see the power that flows in your veins. It builds. The power wants to temper you—make you stronger. Feel it. Look! You tremble. The dark power is what you desire. You’ve felt it growing these past months. It will make you great. It will fill you. You can do anything with this power. The light—it’s weak. I’ve used it. Nothing compares to the dark energy. If you give in to it, I will show you.”
Ahnalyn looked at her hands, which were shaking. She felt the same throbbing deep inside. She could use the dark power, and it would be terrible, but Ahnalyn didn’t understand how a power so consuming could be wielded without endangering those she loved. It had killed her mother.
Aneirin grabbed her quivering hands and stared at Ahnalyn as he spoke. He looked livid. “Leave Caedryn. Leave us. Get away from Ahnalyn.”
“Yes, this drawling on is tiresome. In three days’ time, your dragons should grow hungry enough to eat you. You’d better make haste, Seren. Ahnalyn, you have a choice to make.” Caedryn turned and left.
“Three days’ time?” Ahnalyn asked.
“Relax,” Aneirin said. “Cephias can last longer than that.”
“Are you forgetting about us?”
“Oh, emrys can last much longer without food. Our light sustains us.”
Ahnalyn rolled her eyes. “So comforting—but I’d like to return to my son.”
Aneirin tried to touch her arm, but Ahnalyn rolled her shoulder back. “What have you neglected to tell me about my mother?”
“I can answer that, Aneirin,” Seren said. “I’ve concealed the truth as well.”
“Why?” Ahnalyn asked. “Why would you do that? Tell me the truth. No more lies.” Ahnalyn bowed her head into her hands.
“No, Seren,” Aneirin said. “I’m the guilty person. I’ll carry the blame. Ahnalyn, if you’re going to be mad, be mad at me.”
“Aneirin, we went through this, it’s not your fault,” Cephias said.
“Enough already!” Ahnalyn turned to Aneirin. “Tell me.”
His eyes showed deep pools of regret. Aneirin opened his mouth slowly as if not sure how to start, but he blurted out, “Niawen loved me.”
Ahnalyn waited. And?
Aneirin continued. “I was young. You have to understand. Niawen was at an age when a lot of emrys choose their eternal companion. I was—am—still young, like a child in the eyes of the emrys.” Aneirin gritted his teeth while saying the last statement, not hiding the bitterness in his voice. “She was my truest friend—besides Cephias. I didn’t love her the same way she loved me.”
“So my mother had a life before she came here. I’m not surprised. It fits so nicely with everything else everyone has not told me.”
“I know what you must think, Ahnalyn. I’m truly sorry,” Aneirin said.
“Sorry for what?”
“She left Gorlassar because of me.”
That’s not what I was thinking!
“I didn’t want to bring this up. The past is over—history. Niawen bared her heart to me, and I told her I didn’t love her the same way. She flew to the portal and right out of Gorlassar. But you need to know, I wasn’t ready for such a serious step in life.”
“Why didn’t she move on?” Ahnalyn asked. “Fall in love with someone else.”
“She did move on,” Seren said. “That was her moving on.”
“And you helped her!”
“Whatever a rider goes through, her dragon feels. It’s true the other way around. My heart was broken. Certainly I supported her. But it became more than I bargained for. Instead of persuading Niawen to come home, I left. I’ll carry the shame forever.”
“Enough!” Ahnalyn threw her hands up. “I’ve heard enough. I don’t want anyone to say another word about my mother. You’re making it sound like she was a monster. I was seven years old when I lost her. She was my whole world. I won’t hear another word against her!”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
LOVE’S
RELEASE
The cave fell silent.
Aneirin watched Ahnalyn pace near the entrance, her fingers running over the barrier, leaving a wavy distortion in their wake. She was stewing. Aneirin could see embers flaring as if a poker rolled her coals over and over. Anger, guilt, fear, shame—he could read each of them so clearly, but Ahnalyn couldn’t name what she was feeling. She needed to see her emotions from his point of view, so she could grasp them and stamp them out before Caedryn flared her hatred too much.
But she sent out a clear leave me alone vibe.
Aneirin ignored it. “You’re not actually considering his offer?”
Ahnalyn paused and glared at him. “Don’t be ridiculous. You must really think I am coldhearted to even—”
“I don’t think any such notion.”
She resumed pacing. “I would like to return to Terrin. Turn life around for my people.”
“We will. I promise you. And stop fretting. We’ll break out of here.”
After a while, Ahnalyn settled down. The moon was rising, and the sun had set. Everyone fell asleep. Seren curled up against Cephias, and Ahnalyn shivered in her same spot against the wall. Aneirin lowered himself next to Ahnalyn and lay on his side so he could look into her face. She had tucked her hands under her head for a pillow. He reached out ever so carefully and ran his fingertips along her lower arm. He didn’t have much light to spare, but he sent some anyway into her body as heat. She is so stubborn. If she leaned against Seren, she could stay warm. Aneirin brushed back a hair that had fallen on her nose.
Ahnalyn whimpered in her sleep. Aneirin reached out and touched her temple with the slightest pressure. He closed his eyes and imagined dipping into her thoughts. The subconscious could be accessed this way. Healers in Gorlassar sometimes did this to calm troubled dreams or anxiety-filled souls. Aneirin was deficient in practice, but he couldn’t stand her tortured cries much longer. Show me Ahnalyn’s dreams, he thought as he sent his energy into her mind. Show me why she cries.
Aneirin caught glimpses: Ahnalyn screaming. Pushing. Her labor. Another flash: Einion in her arms. A nursemaid leaned over her and pried the baby out of Ahnalyn’s grasp. She reached for him and cried, her face streaked with tears. The maid crossed the room and placed Einion in Caedryn’s clutches.
