by Lisa Rector
“What time is it?” Ahnalyn asked, through a yawn.
“Early evening,” Catrin replied.
“What is it about?” Ahnalyn asked, gesturing to the book. She twisted her hair over her shoulder.
“It’s the tale of the first dragon egg found by my mother.” Catrin showed Ahnalyn the book. “I drew the pictures.”
Ahnalyn flipped through several of the pages, noting the vibrant artwork and scrolling script. “It’s wonderful. You have great talent.” Ahnalyn looked around. “Where’s Aneirin?”
“He’s spending the night in the city. More has surfaced with the battle plans.”
“Oh? Do you know what?”
“I don’t. A messenger arrived by dragon, and they flew off. He peeked in on you before he left, but he didn’t want to wake you.” She patted Einion on the rump. He was sleeping soundly.
“What’s your opinion of this?” Ahnalyn asked.
“Do you mean of the Dragon Riders coming to the mortals’ aid, or are you referring to Aneirin’s being in love with you?” Catrin asked.
“In truth? I didn’t realize his feelings were so plain for everyone to see.”
“It takes a long time to learn to mask your emotions. Years of practice are required.”
Ahnalyn smiled. “And Aneirin hasn’t learned that yet. This is obvious even to me.”
“I still struggle with it.”
“So… what do you think of this?” Ahnalyn asked.
“It’s great on all accounts,” Catrin replied.
“You don’t care that I’m a half-emrys?”
“I don’t see why that should matter. The difference is you have brown hair, and I rather like it.”
Ahnalyn wiggled her fingers mysteriously in the air. “Doesn’t my dark side concern you?”
“I don’t know if you realize it, but since you’ve arrived, I feel less and less of your darkness. You shine brighter every day. In fact, when you came back from flying this morning, though you were absolutely exhausted from holding on for dear life, I could not only feel the light inside you but also see the joy in your eyes. Aneirin can see it too. He couldn’t stop talking about you. Ahnalyn this, Ahnalyn that.”
Ahnalyn’s face burned. “Oh… what was he saying?”
“Nothing I can repeat. It’s probably good he’s gone. I can tell tales on him all night. Prepare yourself for some stories.”
Ahnalyn smiled as she observed the gleam in Catrin’s eyes, and for the first time, Ahnalyn realized she had a friend, a sister, even. Catrin was an excellent storyteller and loved talking about her brother. Since she was several hundred years older, she remembered the details about Aneirin’s growing up, especially the young, awkward years. Ahnalyn laughed so hard she wiped tears from her eyes.
In the end, when Ahnalyn retired, with Einion in his new cradle beside her bed, she slept as she hadn’t slept in such a long time—feeling content.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
DETERMINATION
Aneirin returned the next morning with news from the council.
“They’re closing the northern gap. About fifty Dragon Riders are headed north as we speak. We decided it would be the best way to keep the majority of Caedryn’s army in Rolant,” Aneirin explained.
“Can they do that?” Ahnalyn asked. “The gap is a narrow fissure of sheer rock walls, extending hundreds of feet in the air. The pass is barely wide enough for a cart and takes five days to travel. I can’t imagine—”
“Don’t worry about it,” Aneirin said. “They have this with a surety. It’ll take time, but they’ll blast away at the top of the ridge until it crumbles into the fissure.”
“What did they want you for?” Catrin asked.
“We discussed the implications this might have on the Great Forest. Since I’ve seen it and I’ve had many conversations with Hadyn about the forest, they wanted my opinion. The eastern side and the western side of the Great Forest are connected by more than the gap. The Eilian know secret ways through the ridge. Collapsing the gap will not affect the people and creatures living in the forest. They stay high in the canopies. It will feel like several small-scale quakes.”
“Hadyn and Emlyn won’t like that,” Ahnalyn said, thinking of pots falling everywhere.
“I told them to talk to the town council and give them an alert before the emrys start the blasting,” Aneirin said.
“Will this be enough to keep the army out? What of the army camped near the ridge? Won’t they see the dragons?” Ahnalyn asked.
“That army is already on the march. We sent Dragon Scouts out, and they’ve reported the army is nearing the lower gap. The army in Rolant is still far away from the northern gap. Closing the gap will be enough to prevent them from entering Terrin and will isolate Rolant. Caedryn will have difficulty governing the realm of Terrin if he’s cut off from them.”
“Except by the sea,” Ahnalyn said. “Terrin trades with Rolant from the seaports. The northern part of the realm has dozens of ports. What if Caedryn decides to attack the sea towns in retaliation?”
“We’ll send aid. Our riders will keep the peace and make sure Caedryn doesn’t send any military ships to sea,” Aneirin explained.
Ahnalyn wrung her hands. “I don’t see how this will work.”
“It will.” Aneirin appeared confident. “We’re working out all the details.”
***
Every morning Aneirin planned with the council and came home for dinner exasperated. Catrin explained it was the quiet but firm way their parents made statements with finality. Aneirin had several older brothers who were captains over units, but Lord Ithel refused to give Aneirin a position. He’d fly into the attack just the same, but as much as his parents wanted him to remain in the dragon realm, they could do nothing to keep him here. The guilt of going against his mother’s silent wish that he stay in Gorlassar was digging a canker in Aneirin’s stomach. He didn’t say anything to Ahnalyn about this, but she could see how his mouth failed to smile when he thought she wasn’t looking.
While Aneirin was gone, Ahnalyn trained on Seren. Ahnalyn’s confidence increased, and she thought she could forgo the harness soon. She spent a lot of time studying the other Dragon Riders. After a couple of hours of flying, Seren sat with Ahnalyn, and they watched the experienced Dragon Riders practice maneuvers and formations. Seren explained what the riders did during combat and how they used their light to project shields and counter oncoming attacks from man-made weapons. The emrys’ display of skill was promising. Ahnalyn hoped that the end was in sight.
The scrimmage began the following day. Ahnalyn watched from the edge of the training grounds. She had never seen so many dragons together at once. Formation after formation of dragons lined up and took to the skies. They circled overhead as the emrys without dragons formed ranks in the field, sporting weapons of spears, swords, and bows.
“We usually don’t fight with those.” Seren indicated the weapons. “But since the mortals use them, we thought it right to practice combat with them. The emrys on the ground are acting as the mortals, and the Dragon Riders are, well, the Dragon Riders.”
The first line of dragons dove all of a sudden. Ahnalyn gasped when flames engulfed the emrys. “Won’t they become injured?”
“Oh no, watch. They shield themselves with light. See, they’re falling over once hit, pretending they’re burned to a crisp.”
“I see,” Ahnalyn said. Her shoulders relaxed.
“You want to fly into battle, don’t you?” Seren asked.
“Seren, I have to help my people. I have to confront Caedryn.”
“And I want my dragon stone back. I don’t know if Aneirin told you this, but my life force depends on my rider’s light. Your light gives you immortality, and it is through you and our connection, that my life is prolonged.”
Ahnalyn’s eyes widened. “No one’s ever mentioned that! So you’re dying?” Guilt from her earlier thought of whether or not she wanted a dragon stone, swept over her. It’d b
e nice to know all the facts. Every truth.
“Aging. Like a normal dragon. It’s only been a couple of days. The normal life span of a dragon is several thousands of years. I think. No one really knows. We’ve always had our dragon stones.”
“Why didn’t someone tell me before?”
“It’s all right. I’m not dying tomorrow, but I’m with you in this. We will fly. I want my stone.”
“Regardless of what Aneirin says?” Ahnalyn asked.
“Yes,” Seren said. “Yes.”
***
After the scrimmage, Aneirin slipped back to Mared, leaving Ahnalyn alone with Catrin and Einion. The little seraph finally fell asleep, and Ahnalyn convinced Catrin to help her practice the light. They reviewed the basics that Aneirin had taught her before.
“What can you show me that has the most impact?” Ahnalyn asked.
“Ahnalyn, you can’t run ahead of yourself,” Catrin said. “I understand your motivation, but it takes years to hone your skills. We’ve been using our light since birth.”
Ahnalyn frowned, unable to squelch her frustration. “I don’t understand why Niawen didn’t tell me who I was. My life would have been different if I had learned from a young age how to control my light.”
Catrin flashed Ahnalyn a sympathetic smile. “I can’t answer. I can guess that perhaps one of the reasons she kept the truth hidden was because she didn’t want Caedryn learning about you. If your light was diminished enough, you’d blend in with the mortals. Their amount of light is scant. They can’t harness it as an emrys can, but it can be detected by a powerful emrys. Niawen might have been counting on Caedryn’s light to be too weak to find you. He’d think you were just a mortal.”
“That’s horrible! So my mother would rather I be filled with darkness!” Ahnalyn sneered. “Caedryn found me anyway. I would have been safer in Gorlassar. Why didn’t she bring me here?”
Catrin shook her head. “It was the stigma of the council. The old traditions. You would have been unwelcome. I’m sorry.”
Ahnalyn flinched, waving her hand, indicating she wanted to move on.
Catrin pursed her lips tightly. “Let’s start with forming the light in your hands again.”
But it was too late. The agitation had set in right under the surface of Ahnalyn’s skin, fueled by her resentment, rising without warning. Ahnalyn wanted to give in to it, to scream and release her agony, but she was afraid it would emerge as her dark power. Remembering the simplicity of how it erupted when she killed her mother, Ahnalyn knew this energy could rule her and charge her. She cursed her mouth—she shouldn’t have mentioned Niawen, the forsaken daughter loved by many. But here Ahnalyn was, in the dragon realm, where Niawen had walked and grown and loved—loved Aneirin.
Catrin touched Ahnalyn’s shoulder. “Breathe, Ahnalyn. Calm down. Settle your emotions before you focus on your light. Take your inner turmoil and push it away. Let it roll out of your heart-center.”
“I can’t.” Ahnalyn clutched her chest. “It hurts to breathe. I feel heavy—crushed. My heart aches.”
Catrin sighed. “I’m not sure how to help you. I can see these feelings diminish your light, but I’m unfamiliar with how the darkness works.”
“I need to be alone. Can you watch Einion for me? I want to walk,” Ahnalyn said.
“Yes, sure.” Catrin nodded.
Ahnalyn raced into the nearest wood, trying to outrun her pain, thinking if she ran long enough, it would ease her heartache. Once the trees had closed in around her, she stopped and dropped to her knees, clenching her stomach and rounding into a ball. She cried uninhibited with no one to watch her.
“You can’t use the darkness in Gorlassar.”
Her head shot up. She thought she was alone. Ahnalyn glanced around. Meinwen stood off to her right, a bluish glow of light surrounding her.
Ahnalyn wiped her eyes with her sleeve. “How did you—”
Meinwen smiled, and Ahnalyn thought all the kindness of the three realms were behind it.
“I followed your light,” Meinwen said.
“What do you mean I can’t use my darkness in Gorlassar?” Ahnalyn asked innocently, though beseeching, like a little child asking permission to play instead of doing chores.
“Gorlassar is a protected realm. Deian set laws to govern the light and keep the dragons safe. The dark power of Cysgod cannot enter here or be used as it once was to destroy the dragons.”
“But I’m here. I am in Gorlassar. How’s this possible?”
Meinwen knelt beside Ahnalyn, in the dirt and leaves, in her gleaming white dress. “I thought it was impossible, but it seems the light you hold inside is enough to allow you to enter through the portal. It’s true. I’m ignorant of the half-emrys, but Aneirin’s shared with me what he’s learned, and Deian guides my intuition.”
“I don’t know Deian.”
“That’s all right. Deian knows you. He knows all of his creations. In time you’ll come to know him. He’ll help your light grow.”
“What can I do about my dark energy? I sense it—inside. I feel like I’m being weighed down as if the burden is preventing me from building my light.”
“It’s vying for a hold in your heart-center. I can see the unbalance with my mind. The scale shifts precariously from its mark.”
“How do I make it stop? I want to feel free. Help me.”
“I mentioned the laws set to govern the light. They also govern those made from the light. One of them is the law of forgiveness.”
“How does it work?”
Meinwen laid her hand over Ahnalyn’s. “You must forgive yourself for Niawen’s death. The fault was not yours.”
“I must forgive myself? Are you sure? All this time I thought I needed to ask my mother for forgiveness. I begged and asked her every day to forgive me, but I received no answer. This whole time I thought I was somehow responsible for her death, and then I find out I actually am!”
“And now you are angry at her for withholding the truth from you.”
“Yes!”
“Forgive your mother and forgive yourself, and then you’ll be free.”
Ahnalyn drooped her shoulders. “How do I do that?”
“In time. Change your perspective, and you’ll see what matters. Your heart will soften and change. You’ll feel the moment when you’re ready to forgive.”
Ahnalyn nodded, sniffing away her tears. It couldn’t be that easy. It wasn’t that easy.
“Ahnalyn, you have a pure heart. I know you don’t think so because of tragedy in the past, but your energies do not define you. You want what’s good. If you were evil, you wouldn’t desire the happiness of others. Only your pure heart could have brought you this far, and it’ll take you to a much greater purpose.”
So the High Emrys had said she was pure. Ahnalyn closed her eyes and wished with all her heart that she believed it.
***
Change her perspective. That was easy enough for Meinwen to say. Not so easy for Ahnalyn. Her perspective was that Caedryn must die, her determination fueling her efforts. That was what mattered. Ahnalyn wasn’t sure about her heart softening. It was as hard as ice. Pure heart—surely not if she wanted to seek Caedryn’s demise.
In the afternoons, Ahnalyn convinced Aneirin to help her develop her light. Aneirin was all for it, eager to use the time as a way to blow off steam.
Ahnalyn grew better at harnessing her light, now able to radiate it throughout her body and concentrate it as a ball in her hand. The focus was easier with the understanding that Meinwen gave her, that the darkness could not be used here. So the alternative was to build her light.
Aneirin was urging Ahnalyn to push the ball at him.
“Won’t that hurt you?” Ahnalyn asked. They were in the meadow near the stream.
“Not a chance. Give it a try,” Aneirin said.
Ahnalyn stared at the light ball in her hand. She envisioned the compact orb flying at Aneirin. Beads of sweat popped out on her forehead. Fly at Aneirin!
One final urge—and the ball launched out of her hand. She gasped. She didn’t think she had released it that forcibly.
Aneirin laughed and caught the orb. “That was spectacular! You surprised yourself. I knew you’d do it. Now, do it again!”
Ball after ball left her hand in rapid succession. Aneirin caught some and rolled out of the way, dodging others. Ahnalyn laughed and jumped around, giddy from the success. This is so different from learning how to ride a horse or shoot a bow. The last ball of light bounced off Aneirin’s energy shield, and Ahnalyn stepped out of the way as it hurtled back at her.
Aneirin’s green eyes twinkled at her, and his usually pale cheeks were rosy. “All right, you’re overzealous.”
Ahnalyn stooped over, resting her hands on her thighs, catching her breath. “I didn’t think I could do all that.”
“Let’s see if you can project a shield,” Aneirin said.
“How do I do that?”
“You can do it several ways. One way is to push the light just outside the perimeter of your body—like a second skin. This works well against fire and light attacks. If you have a heavy object coming at you, you don’t want it coming close to your body, so you can project your light as a mass in front of you. Much like a metal shield. All of it works the same way. You have to tell your light what you want it to do, and like everything else, how big and how strong depends on how much effort you give it. The more you practice, the easier and stronger it becomes—like building muscle.”
Ahnalyn nodded in understanding.
“Let’s try it against an attack. Push your light outside your skin,” Aneirin said.
Ahnalyn envisioned her light gathering and panning out like a saucer. She would need this to block Caedryn’s attacks. A sudden light whooshed out in front of her.
“Right, just like that, now hold it.” Aneirin shot energy at her.
Panicked, Ahnalyn dropped her shield and stepped out of the way.
Aneirin laughed. “Very well… now try holding the light and let it take the blast. It will be fine.”
