by Lisa Rector
Trahaearn tilted as far as he would dare. He used the crosswind to aid him, and with a quick, smooth motion, whipped the higher wing in one steady swoop over his head while bringing the other wing across his underside.
Einion’s world twisted. Trahaearn had done it! They were flying upside down!
Their emotions entwined in an exuberant rush only dragon and rider shared. A triumphant yell roared from Einion. The world around them rushed by askew as Trahaearn fanned his wings. Gasps and applause reached them from the crowd on the shore.
The moment shortened because they were in fact descending rapidly.
Flip! Trahaearn, flip!
I have this. Hold on!
Turning upside down did cause them to drop speedily out of the sky. Einion had noticed ducks flying bottom up to come in for a prompt landing on the lake, flipping over right before glazing across the surface to a stop. They spent several days studying them, and Trahaearn thought he could do the same, though he was unsure exactly how fast the drop was.
The undulating lake drew rapidly closer. In expectation of the plunge, Einion expanded his light’s energy, forcing it into a protective shield around the pair. Trahaearn attempted to turn right-side up. He executed the reverse action he used to flip. They were upright for a second, and Trahaearn flapped his broad wings to regain altitude, but instead they hit the water with an explosive splash.
The ice-cold water sucked out Einion’s breath. His skin stung until his light drew inward from the shield and into his extremities, warming his body. Trahaearn grunted from the impact against his underside, and Einion felt the ache as his own. Powerful dragon legs thrashed, swirling the clear liquid into a gush of bubbles. Einion kicked to the surface after his dragon.
“That was the greatest thrill! Let’s try again,” Trahaearn bellowed. His great dragon chest heaved up and down.
Einion looked around as he floated in the water, and a smile spread over his face. Flashing a toothy grin, Trahaearn was bobbing on the lake with red glee-filled eyes. Flying together was the highlight of their day. Trahaearn readily dove into the water again and again if it meant spending time with Einion. But these days and time together became fewer and farther between. Now at twenty-one years of age, Einion would be crowned King of Terrin, and the matters of the realm would fill his days.
Don’t think such depressing thoughts, Trahaearn said.
Another dragon dropped from the sky, coming between Einion and his dragon brother. Cerys skimmed the surface of the water with her claws, splashing her teal underbelly. Her rider extended a slender hand as she leaned over the water.
Trahaearn grumbled. No, Einion—
He reached up and grasped her wrist. In one smooth motion, a fair-skinned and youthful woman pulled Einion from the lake, landing him behind herself on the saddle. Cerys pulled away and headed to the shore.
Trahaearn launched out of the water, following them. You always go with her.
His dragon’s annoyance soaked through the facets of Einion’s mind across unseen barriers. The emotion sent him into a guilty spiral. She won’t waylay me. Give me a minute, Trahaearn.
That’s what you always say.
If Einion gave in to her charming influence, Catrin would use this chance to dominate Einion’s attention, possibly for the rest of the morning. Sometimes he couldn’t help it. Catrin had this alluring hold over him. The deep feelings she had for him, despite Einion’s lack of reciprocation, edged his nerves with a fire that pricked at his will—or rather his carnal appetite. Her emotions radiated like heat waves off her body.
Love.
She loved him.
Einion set his jaw. He hated how she did this, how, because of being an emrys, every emotion was so plain—so readable. Catrin lacked restraint in concealing her feelings, even though she taught Einion the same skill from his birth. From the moment Einion had come to the mortal realms to prepare for his rule, the energies within his half-immortal body, the light and the darkness, vied for power inside him. Lust felt entirely different outside the immortal dragon realm of Gorlassar, and Einion could feel a black mark in his heart-center. Though Catrin knew he struggled, she inadvertently made it difficult for him.
Some friend.
She had no idea what it meant to be the only half-emrys surrounded by perfect beings of light.
Einion was too young in the immortal scope to consider her as his eternal partner. To keep his anxieties at bay, he developed a game of distraction. Who could push the other to the brink of madness, spurring a loss of composure or patience? If Catrin understood his real intent, she didn’t complain and played along.
He had developed the perfect love-annoy relationship—annoy Catrin to keep her from coming on too forcefully, to protect their friendship, and to keep his head on straight.
Um, you usually fail in that department, Einion. Your head has never been on straight.
I’m doing my best here. Look at her, Trahaearn. Cysgod himself couldn’t resist Catrin’s charming influence.
His dragon drew in a breath. Even I wouldn’t—
You’re right, sorry. Stupid thought. Saying Evil himself couldn’t resist Catrin did take things too far.
No, I understand, you’re trying to distance yourself from Catrin’s emotional connection to you. Just don’t do it in such a crude manner, Trahaearn said.
Sliding forward in the saddle, Einion pressed his sopping-wet chest against Catrin’s back and purposefully drenched her clothes with the biting water.
“Einion!” Catrin yelped. She elbowed him in the ribs.
He took such pleasure in teasing Catrin! Listening to her squeal broke the awkwardness he felt between them. Einion wrapped his arms around Catrin’s lithe frame and pressed his wet cheek against her creamy skin.
Cerys landed on the beach without jolting the pair, and Catrin shoved Einion off the saddle.
Smugly looking at Catrin while she climbed off her dragon, Einion slid to the ground and stood on the shore, watching every smooth, purposeful movement as she landed gracefully next to him in the sand. Like a tantalizing pastry fresh from the oven, her body steamed as Catrin used the light’s power to hasten her drying.
Einion’s mouth dropped open.
Don’t look at her, Einion. Look away.
Trahaearn was right. He should look away. She was too much temptation for one man.
Catrin pursed her petite lips in satisfaction when she saw his expression.
By Deian’s Light, how does she always do this to me? Einion resisted her antics by throwing a rigid resolve into her face.
“I suppose you’re rather proud of yourself.” The last bit of steam dissipated in the air as Catrin flung her reckless, loose braid over her shoulder.
Ignore her ploy, Einion told himself. “You have to try that, Catrin—simply incredible.” He shot her his most devious smile while he squelched his bare feet in a puddle on the sand.
Catrin’s green eyes roved up and down his wet body.
Einion knew how he must look to her with his thin, linen shirt clinging to his skin and gaping open to reveal his muscled chest. His slicked pants showed off his sinewy thigh muscles, and water dripped off his chin and down the ends of his hair.
They stood there entranced, oblivious to the crowd watching. Catrin’s eyebrows arched in amusement.
Just because she was an emrys of pure light didn’t mean she didn’t have lustful notions. But her thoughts couldn’t corrupt her—she carried no darkness. Which was not the case for Einion.
He narrowed his eyes at her. Pure thoughts, Catrin, think pure thoughts. Einion couldn’t read her emryn mind, but her musings were written all over her face in her coy smile and playful eyes.
He waited for her to react. He would win this round. Einion held his vainglorious expression. Any moment, she’ll cave.
Trahaearn shifted and stretched his wings. Einion, snap out of it. Let’s try again. I know we can pull out of the dive.
With his eyes still focused on Catri
n, Einion gathered the energy from his core and spread it across the surface of his skin. Steam rolled off his body into the brisk air. The image precipitated an immediate effect on Catrin. Her light flared inside, flushing her skin, but fading as she controlled herself.
Ha! Einion gloated. She lost composure. He had won.
Hearing Einion’s triumph and eager to return to their fun, Trahaearn asked, Does that mean we’re going again?
Yes.
Einion turned away from her and climbed onto his dragon. Trahaearn jumped, and the wind’s rush from the flap of his wings blew right into Catrin’s face. A huff escaped her lips as the wispy tendrils framing her face blew back.
A grin pulled at Einion’s cheeks. Trahaearn, I think I set her off for the rest of the day.
Bah, glad to hear it. Glad. To. Hear. It.
About a week ago, Catrin had bet that Einion and Trahaearn wouldn’t be able to fly upside down. Proving her wrong, as childish as it might be, made his day. Catrin argued against such a ridiculous attempt. What would be the point? The risk of injury always concerned her, but practicing over the lake gave them something to break the fall. Day after day Catrin watched them from the shore and grew more confident they would not accomplish it… until this morning.
Once Einion and Trahaearn were high enough in the sky, they prepared to flip once more. Einion leaned into his dragon and embraced the tightening of all his muscles and the thudding of his heart against his chest.
Ready… and… go! Einion’s stomach jumped into his throat as Trahaearn rolled. They quickly dropped out of the sky.
We’re going to hit the water! Nothing but shining, silvery blue filled Einion’s sight. He would take the impact if Trahaearn didn’t pull up in time.
No, we aren’t. Trahaearn spun, his wing just grazing the cool liquid, and flapped his wings. The lift was strained, but they steadily gained altitude.
Success! Einion thumped Trahaearn on the back, ignoring the water’s spray from their close dip. Bravo, Trahaearn, bravo. Einion’s victory whoop echoed across the lake.
Trahaearn soared higher and twisted again, executing another inverted dive. His complete roll managed to stay well above their watery bath.
I think you have it, Einion said.
Was there ever any doubt? Trahaearn replied.
The crowds at the docks parted as the day became alive with life and busyness. Slight regret swept over Einion when he noticed Catrin slip away on Cerys and head back to the palace. Perhaps he shouldn’t tease Catrin so cruelly.
Don’t be so tough on yourself. She knows this is a game.
Einion sighed. Well, maybe to me. Catrin can’t help her feelings. I think I’m scraping the wound a little too deep.
CHAPTER THREE
RESOLVE
Satisfied after flying for several hours over the lake, Trahaearn took Einion into the city and landed outside the ornate palace gates.
“Good job this morning.” Einion rubbed the scales along Trahaearn’s neck. “I have work to do.”
“I have work to do too…” Trahaearn shuffled his feet, eager to take off. “Um, I mean, eating to do.”
Einion playfully poked his dragon. “Don’t you always?”
Trahaearn guffawed and looped away.
The guards nodded in acknowledgement as Einion walked across the cobbled courtyard, up the front steps, and into his uncle’s palace overlooking the lake. To settle the final arrangements for Einion’s coronation, King Kelyn had already made the trip to Hyledd, the capital of Terrin, where Einion would be king.
For the time being, Einion stayed in Talfryn with tutors to teach him how to be a king and with stacks of documents to go over. A time-consuming affair without going to Hyledd, to the place where his father, Brenin, had lived—and died.
This coronation marked Einion’s taking the place of the regent who had overseen Terrin since his father’s death. A bloodthirsty tyrant had killed Brenin in battle before Einion was born. Everyone said Einion was much like his father. Mother told him they shared the same adventurous spirit and love of life. His subjects said Brenin was an honorable man, and he loved them and ruled fairly. How the people loved their lord in return!
Einion simply couldn’t see how he’d live up to his father’s reputation because, in his mind, his status as a half-emrys complicated the situation. Brenin had been a young ruler, as Einion was going to be, but his father was mortal so he didn’t have to fight against the inner darkness that Einion did. Even so, in the eyes of the mortals, he was old enough to be king. He had a duty to rule as his father’s heir. He should be ready, but in the eyes of an emrys, Einion had just begun his immortality and was but a youth.
And he felt it.
Experience in the knowledge and ways of an emrys took thousands of years to learn. To be a king, to settle into the role of his mortal father—his tutelage had been complete in twenty-one short years.
Einion took the roundabout way to the kitchen to avoid running into Catrin. His goal would be to elude her for as long as possible. Grabbing two slices of warm buttered bread, hard cheese, and several pieces of fruit, Einion headed to the library. Before the big day, he had more documents to look over —a boring occupation that he was sure wouldn’t distract his mind from Catrin or the stress. Einion tucked into the desk in the dusty room of books, which reached to the ceiling, and prepared for a grueling few hours of torture.
His efforts were futile. Einion drummed his fingers on the desk and shifted in his chair. He couldn’t concentrate. Tugging on his wavy curls, Einion raked his hands impatiently through them.
When he was an infant, his mother, Ahnalyn, came to Gorlassar and married Catrin’s brother. Catrin lived in the same quaint cottage with Einion and his parents. She became his greatest friend—besides Trahaearn. Their gap in age made no difference. Catrin was still an immature emrys and young at heart, even though she was seven hundred years older than Einion. She tutored him through school and the university. They became inseparable. She even willingly left Gorlassar and her parents and came to the mortal realm while Einion prepared to become king for the past year.
As a child of two worlds, Einion belonged where his heart yearned to be, in Gorlassar, where he grew up. He never talked with Catrin about what would happen once he became king. He avoided the subject. To talk about his future, and what Catrin planned to do with hers, would give her the wrong idea.
Catrin should have stayed in Gorlassar. Leaving everything she loved was a great sacrifice on her part, and Einion never asked her to do it. Her resignation was too much in his eyes. She came here because of him. Einion didn’t want that burden, didn’t want the worry that someday she might resent him for her choice—might resent him if he never felt the same way she did for him.
With the mounting stress of Einion’s approaching coronation, Catrin became his anchor, keeping him on course and bolstering courage in the face of his insecurities. He overly relied on her.
He knew this.
What a fine mess I’ve made. How can I rely on someone deeply—love her immensely—and hate her as well—hate what she does to me?
Einion leaned back from his desk and threw the papers across the smooth oak surface.
The tension between them, physically and emotionally, had forced Einion’s hand. This was why he started the game. The pressure of Catrin’s feelings might have been enough to make any other man give in to the desire, but Einion had been unyielding. He never acted on any romantic impulse no matter how much Catrin was a charming temptress. Their friendship meant so much to Einion that he refused to jeopardize it with any romantic feelings or to act on physical attraction.
He was furious with himself, but he was just as furious with Catrin. She didn’t stop the emotional volley that was damaging their friendship. Something would have to be done.
***
Feeling smug, Einion realized he managed to dodge Catrin all day, and she never sought him out.
His feet dragged as he left the library and
followed the corridor to his bedroom. Oil lamps lined the hallway, and they flickered as he passed. The silence stretched on as he paused in front of his room.
Master of Light, it had to be tonight. Catrin lingered inside his chamber. He could sense her light and see a gentle glow under the door. Waves of emotion seeped through the walls. Einion contemplated fleeing, but he knew this confrontation was coming—had to come. He knew he had to face Catrin, his immortal siren. Their issues couldn’t be ignored any longer. Einion couldn’t continue to play these amusements with her.
He pulled an inner strength from his heart-center and spread it throughout his body. He tensed and willed a composed and level head to guide himself. Focus, Einion. Draw on your light. You are strong.
The door opened without a sound, affirming the quiet tension in the room. She sat in the window alcove with her legs curled under her body, looking out at the moon-glistened lake. Catrin glowed from within, and no other light filled the room. The luminescence from her skin shone through her silver green gossamer dress. Einion could see her chest rising and falling as she took slow breaths.
Steady.
She was beautiful, positively the most otherworldly being Einion had ever seen, and this amplified his problem.
I am unwavering. He walked up to her and stood before her, pausing, trying to grab hold of a single thread of her feelings, but Catrin was a tangle of emotions. He wasn’t sure what would come out of her mouth. Maybe she wasn’t sure. He should do something to break the silence, but his words stuck in his throat.
“Cat—” He croaked and shifted nervously.
“Einion.” Her broken whisper of a voice hinted that she’d been crying.
Oh no, Catrin. Don’t cry. You’re going to crush my resolve. In all their long years together, Einion had seen Catrin cry only once. And not even when she fell off Cerys and fractured her arm, but instead, when her mother was reborn. Einion had been too young to understand her emotion then. Catrin was an iron-willed woman. For her to cry now meant she was in agony.
