Chronicles of the Half-Emrys Box Set (Books 1-3)

by Lisa Rector

At last, someone’s willing to learn the facts. “Lord Caedryn has powers to match my own. Not from the light, but from the darkness. He can inflict damage, he can throw up shields, and he can interfere with the memories of others.”

  Urien propped his hand under his chin in a thoughtful manner. “We should assume his abilities can counter each one of ours. Whatever we can do with our light, he can produce the same effects with his darkness and counter whatever we can do.”

  “Yes. And that makes him a threat. We must not let his evil flourish. We must fight against it. Tear it down so the light can shine.” Aneirin flicked his hands with obvious impatience.

  Several murmurs again.

  “We must assume he serves Cysgod. We must keep this evil out of Gorlassar,” Long Lashes said.

  “I concur. We must remember why we’re the dragon guardians. Cysgod’s evil once entered here, and before it could be banished, the dragons were nearly destroyed,” Lord Ithel said.

  “But it wasn’t. The Master of Light saved the one egg,” Lord Braided Hair said.

  “We cannot take the chance of that ever happening again,” Urien replied.

  Aneirin tapped the table twice. “Exactly, that’s why we must assist the mortals. A shadow is spreading in the mortal realms. The danger draws too close. It must be stopped.”

  “But at what cost? We cannot risk the lives of the very dragons we’re protecting,” Lord Ithel said.

  “The dragons should not be hidden. They should be used in service for the Master of Light,” Aneirin said.

  “The dragons live a rich life in Gorlassar. To bring them out into the mortal realms would be preposterous,” Lord Caledu said. “Surely, Ithel you must see the folly in this.”

  “People are suffering. The mortals need our aid,” Aneirin said, emphasizing his words.

  Caledu’s eyes narrowed on either side of his pointy nose. “The mortals can fend for themselves. The strong rule and the weak follow. This is how life is.”

  Aneirin didn’t understand why this lord was so stubborn. “Even if the strong are evil?”

  Lord Caledu actually rolled his eyes. “We cannot help that.”

  “Their worth is the same as ours. The Master of Light created us all, and he would want us to help where we could.”

  Caledu waved his hand dismissively. “They’re a trivial race.”

  “More than just the humans dwell in the mortal realms. Are we willing to sink into insignificance? The great emrys, sitting in Gorlassar, too proud to lift a finger.” Aneirin wanted to pound on the table right in front of his pointed nose.

  “They’re not our concern, not our charge.”

  “I’ve seen what’s beyond our door. It’s a world of beauty to equal our own. We should not fear. The world is not entirely darkness, but much of it is light.”

  Lord Braided Hair spoke. “We do not interfere with their affairs.”

  Aneirin rested his hands on the table and leaned forward. “Your lack of interest is appalling. We can’t expect to grow beyond our current state if we never push ourselves, never seek out what we don’t understand. We have become lazy and complacent. The Master of Light would want us to take action. Protect the mortals as we protect the dragons. We should stretch out after every good deed, and this is it. How can you expect to become a refined vessel if you close your mind to what’s around you?”

  “It’s time to hear the opinion of the dragons since they would be the ones flying into battle as well,” Ithel said.

  Aneirin hoped Cephias had the opportunity to talk to the High Dragoness, Meinwen’s dragon. He hoped they would already be swayed to his side.

  Lady Meinwen gave a slight smile. In the usual custom, she had been relaying her thoughts, the entire conversation of the council to her dragon. What would Blodeuyn agree to?

  She opened her mouth to voice the thoughts of her dragon as if Blodeuyn spoke through her. “I have heard Aneirin’s story and considered your comments. I’ve pondered the plight of the mortal world. It’s time we took action. Light should not hide from the face of spreading darkness. Growing darkness is a danger to us. Darkness felled the original dragon species. We will fly into battle, and we will be victorious. This is the will of Blodeuyn, High Dragoness.”

  Short but simple words, Aneirin could feel the power in them as though they shook the room—his heart-center at least. The emrys revered the dragons, their species having existed for longer than the emrys knew, passing on ages of knowledge and history. So Blodeuyn would win the argument for Aneirin. He tried not to gloat.

  A murmur rumbled among the emrys. Lord Ithel raised his hands and spoke. “Blodeuyn is right. They need our help.”

  Relief swept over Aneirin. His father had felt the power in Blodeuyn’s wisdom as well.

  Lord Caledu rose sharply and stormed out of the room.

  Serves him right, the stubborn man. Fool not to allow his own daughter or granddaughter into the realm, Aneirin thought.

  Meinwen slipped silently out of the council room. She wouldn’t need to stay longer. Aneirin knew the ways of his mother. She’d been listening with more than her ears. Her intuitive nature ran deep, allowing her to see beyond the present, but she never meddled. Aneirin was often furious at how she stood passively by and let life unfold. She would say the path was meant to be, or this course couldn’t be altered, or words to this extent. Aneirin wondered what his mother foresaw as an outcome. They had heard Blodeuyn’s opinion, but Meinwen had stayed silent.

  Aneirin stepped out after her.

  “Mother. Do you agree with this? Do you support my wishes?”

  Meinwen touched his arm with a feather-light caress, and the love she had for Aneirin slipped under his skin and threaded up his veins into his heart.

  “Oh, my son. I know you have suffered much sorrow from the loss of Niawen. Do not bear such contempt for Caledu. His pain has been greater than you understand.”

  Aneirin flexed his fist. “He could have made restitution. He could have welcomed Niawen back into Gorlassar. Caledu should have gone to find his own daughter.”

  Meinwen touched his chin. “I too have felt your pain. I know why you desire this—this unity between the worlds. It’s a small step to make up for what’s been lost, for those we’ve lost. But it will yield great results. This love for Ahnalyn has changed you, and you see with a broader view. It brings me great happiness to see you’ve found your love.”

  “But…” Aneirin looked hopefully into her eyes. His mother had the loveliest, pure green eyes of any emrys, panging his heart with the memories of youth and his mother’s constant affections.

  “There is no but. I am overjoyed, and I support you in this. I want peace for the mortals, and I want you to have peace.”

  Aneirin nodded, but raised his brow. He knew other notions swam in Meinwen’s thoughts. “What have you seen?”

  “No one outcome is sure. It depends on the choices of others. All shall unfold in due time.” Meinwen kissed Aneirin on his cheek and pressed her forehead to his before excusing herself.

  Exactly as Aneirin thought. The High Emrys never meddled.

  He crept back into the council.

  The council was discussing how they’d organize the Dragon Riders. Aneirin listened in earnest as they laid out plans. The Dragon Riders had never flown into actual battle before, but they were trained in many maneuvers and scenarios, though not tested in open combat because they’d never had a need. At most they fought tournaments and mock wars, which were a game—a pastime. Now it would be real. Lives could be lost, but Aneirin felt confident. Light was powerful, and the riders themselves had many capabilities. What could wicked men on horses with arrows and spears do against the Dragon Riders?

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  TRANSPARENT

  With Einion in his sling, Ahnalyn passed through the streets of Mared, moving away from the main plaza. The houses were so lavish and spacious. Everything in the city was pristine white except for the gardens—which were everywhere. Entrance
s to homes were surrounded with ornate fences enclosing the yards. If ever there was a place to rest from worldly cares, this would be it.

  Except… emrys were busy wherever Ahnalyn looked. Some on horses or with carts carrying goods or walking to the plaza with books, probably headed to the library or university. Their joyous voices floated on the air. They are so jubilant and full of light. The contagious nature of their joy filled Ahnalyn with peace as she strolled down the streets.

  Most emrys had blond hair in varying shades, some with silver undertones. Men and women alike wore their hair long and either tied behind their ears or in intricate braids down their backs. Scrolling headpieces dotted with tiny gemstones graced a few of the ladies’ heads, over their brows, in a manner befitting a queen. Elegant high-waisted dresses or long tunics over leggings emphasized the tiny figures of the women. Tunics and britches seemed to be the standard for some men, while others wore flowing embroidered robes.

  Very few emrys had dragon stones. The ones who did wore smooth, oval stones that ranged through the colors on the spectrum, and some had veins of gold or silver. Ahnalyn couldn’t wait to see the dragons in their glory of color.

  Everywhere Ahnalyn walked with her son, she received stares. After all, she stuck out with her drab clothes and her pasty complexion—certainly not shining like the emrys. And last but not least, her hair was dark brown! Ahnalyn tried not to let it bother her and held her head high. Many passersby greeted her kindly and offered her food and drink.

  About midday, her feet were sore, so Ahnalyn stopped by a fountain and perched on the ledge, crossing her legs under herself. She rummaged in her bag and pulled out a croissant, acquired earlier from a market stall, and picked at it while enjoying the trickle of the water. Ahnalyn closed her eyes and lifted her face to the sun. Everything was splendid if she didn’t think about what lay ahead. She sighed, hugging her son close.

  “Are you tired from walking this morning?” someone asked.

  Startled, Ahnalyn opened her eyes, peering up into Aneirin’s face. “How in the world did you find me?”

  “I have my ways,” he said. “But seriously, this is a good distance from the palace. You must have been walking the whole time.”

  “Yes, I have been actually. It’s a nice distraction from everything. There’s so much to take in I didn’t notice for how long or even where. Not sure I could have found my way back… but you found me.” Aneirin was looking more radiant than ever—must be his time here in Mared. “What news from the council?”

  “Great news! The Dragon Riders will go to war. We’ve been strategizing all morning. The council has elected an embassy to go to Cynwrig and meet with King Sieffre. We want to have the riders ready for battle within the week. We’ll wait for word that Caedryn’s army approaches and allow him to make the first move. The outlook is promising,” Aneirin said.

  “That’s wonderful. Do you think we’ll recover Terrin?”

  “We will. Wait until you see the dragons in action. I want to take you to the training grounds tomorrow, but right now we’re going somewhere else.”

  Her hand in his, Aneirin led Ahnalyn through the streets, pointing out details as they passed, talking excitedly about Mared and the council.

  But Ahnalyn was distracted by the stares. Every eye was on them, Ahnalyn and Aneirin, hand-in-hand. She imagined the tongues that would wag. A few emrys moved past their flabbergasted stares enough to stop and bow and greet Aneirin.

  “You neglected to tell me you were someone of such importance. Everyone knows you,” Ahnalyn said.

  “There never was a good time to tell you. ‘Oh, by the way, I’m the youngest son of the High Emrys. That’s a big deal here.’ No, sorry, I had other worries to occupy my thoughts.”

  His grip on her hand never slackened. In fact, it seemed to Ahnalyn as if Aneirin wanted everyone to see them together.

  Ahnalyn squeezed his hand. “What do you think they’ll say about this?”

  “I don’t care what they’re saying. Let them have their gossip. They’re not blind to my feelings, and I’ve had enough of being chided by others.”

  “Uh, does this have to do with the council?”

  “Let’s say it took a bit of convincing.”

  “That bad?”

  “Let’s just say one particular character was set against me.”

  Ahnalyn noted the taut muscle in Aneirin’s jaw. Someone had pricked a nerve.

  “Who?” she asked.

  Aneirin closed his eyes for a brief second as if deliberating. After a little shake of his head, he conceded. “Lord Caledu, Niawen’s father.”

  Ahnalyn stopped. Aneirin pulled her arm with his continued steps because he failed to notice her halt. She ignored his urging and dropped his hand. “So, I have family here. Family that doesn’t want me.”

  He met her gaze and scooped her hands together in his. “It will be fine. They’ll want you. Give it time.”

  “You’re so sure.” How’s he always so sure? “So Caledu was against coming for me?”

  “Yes.” His eyes shimmered as he looked intensely at her, studying her reaction.

  “So he was against the call for aid?”

  “Yes, but Blodeuyn turned it for me. I’m satisfied.”

  Ahnalyn lifted her head in a slow, punctuated nod. Could this become any worse? She felt a weight pulling on her shoulders. It would be best to change the topic before her darkness tugged with more force. “Where are we going?”

  They were moving downhill away from the palace and center of town.

  “To travel where we’re headed, we need transportation. Sadly, I can’t call Cephias with my lack of dragon stone,” Aneirin said, an edge to his voice. “So we’re headed to the stables on the outskirts. Can you make it that far?”

  “Yes, I’m fine.”

  Shortly, they reached the stables. Aneirin selected a couple of horses. “Can you ride with Einion? Will you let me take him?”

  Her back ached from her bubbling bundle. She gladly gave Einion to Aneirin. “How long is our ride?” Aneirin took the sling and curled Einion to his chest. Ahnalyn’s heart jumped. Aneirin was so careful with Einion. Her face pinched up, quelling the tears that threatened.

  “Just a couple of miles. We’ll go slowly so Einion doesn’t become jostled.” Aneirin’s hand rubbed over his precious cargo.

  They left the city, riding toward the mountains, winding over hills and passing crop fields. Subsequently, they arrived at a gentle incline where wild flowers grew unabashed in various colors: creamy yellow cone-shaped and powder blue bell-shaped, scarlet bee balms and white daisies. Butterflies, bees, and hummingbirds hovered in the air everywhere.

  “Wow,” Ahnalyn said. “It’s so delightful!”

  “You like it?” Aneirin asked, clearly pleased.

  “Yes.”

  The road continued over a bridge, crossing a picturesque creek until it ended at a stone cottage tucked against a wooded lot. A little tree stood in the front yard, where Aneirin tied the horses.

  “Welcome home,” Aneirin said.

  Ahnalyn looked at him. “Home?”

  “My home. Welcome to my home. I live here.” Aneirin smiled.

  “You don’t live in the city with your parents?”

  “They mean well, but I like my solitude.”

  The front door opened and a woman, ever so radiant in a plum empire-waist gown flowing full around her, ran out of the cottage. Her bare arms displayed a single gold adornment circled around each bicep. A teal dragon stone hung around her neck.

  Ahnalyn eyed her curiously.

  “Aneirin, you’re home!” The woman ran forward in her bare feet and kissed him on each cheek. She touched her forehead to his, briefly holding it there.

  Everyone is really expressive here, Ahnalyn thought in an unwarranted flash of jealousy.

  Aneirin laughed, but the woman regarded her with a curious look.

  “Aneirin, you didn’t tell her?” She spoke to Ahnalyn. “I’m Aneir
in’s sister, Catrin.”

  Ugh, they noticed that. Is everything around here so transparent? Ahnalyn flushed. “Nice to meet you, I’m Ahnalyn, only half-emrys.”

  Catrin smiled, giving Ahnalyn a sisterly hug before turning to Aneirin. “I like her.” She held her hands out to Aneirin, wiggling her fingers. “Let me see this little man.” She lifted Einion to her face and kissed his nose. “He’s a baby doll! Come inside and eat. I have food ready.” Catrin bounded off into the house with Einion in her arms.

  She was positively too much energy.

  Ahnalyn hurried after her, not wanting to let Einion out of sight.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  SPELL CAST

  The inside of the cottage was humbly furnished with sleek wood surfaces and a couple of stuffy upholstered chairs. Off to the right was a kitchen area with counter workspace, an oven, and a sink. Flowers in vases sat on the mantle, on the kitchen table, and on tables flanking the armchairs. The room was bright and full of light. Several paintings with landscapes hung from the walls.

  “This is a nice house,” Ahnalyn said.

  Aneirin beamed. “My sister’s the decorator. We both like simple elegance, which is why we get along well. I do suspect she insisted on this quaint cottage together to keep an eye on me. Older sister thing. I was young then. We could live on our own now, but—” Aneirin shrugged.

  They ate a meal of beef stew, thin garlic bread, and fruit salad. Aneirin kept glancing up between bites of food and grinning at Ahnalyn. She blushed and picked at her bread, dipping it into the stew. Catrin was keen to listen to the details of Ahnalyn’s rescue while cradling Einion in the crook of her arm.

  After the meal, Aneirin, eager to show off, dragged Ahnalyn through the rest of the house. Ahnalyn sent her son a lingering look, which was lost in his innocent, sleeping face. Catrin had Einion in good hands, and she wasn’t about to let him go, so Ahnalyn allowed Aneirin to pull her to three doors at the back of the main room.

  Aneirin gestured to the door on the left. “My sister’s room.”

  He opened the middle door.

  Ahnalyn stepped inside and gasped. “A studio?”