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

by Lisa Rector

  We want to steer clear of the capital, Trahaearn. Lord Cadoc would not be pleased to have an unannounced visit from the Prince of Terrin. Before nightfall, let’s fly to the edge of the plains where the wilderness begins. I want a glimpse of this vast expanse of nothingness other riders speak of.

  Well, I think you’ll be disappointed. It is, after all, nothing. Trahaearn laughed, and Einion nudged him playfully in the ribs with his foot.

  After about an hour of flying over the plains, over sprouting green grasses, and over hamlets consisting of only a few houses connected by rutty carted trails, they came to the edge of the living.

  Einion gaped at the land that stretched in front of them. The wilderness was not just a boundless expanse of nothing—the terrain was a dry, parched wasteland. Behind Einion, Rolant was in spring, and life blossomed across the country. Before him, heat radiated off the surface as though a late summer scorched the sand. Curious, Einion noted that the desert abruptly started, as if someone had carved a tortuous line all along the world’s edge.

  He whistled. “Wow, Trahaearn, this is bizarre. More than anyone has ever described.” Einion strained with his dragon sight. Even heightened dragon vision couldn’t find an end to the nothing. That must be why no one has ever ventured to cross it.

  Not entirely true. Remember the ancient people of Rolant were said to have come from across the desert. The wilderness must be passable.

  Well, we shall not attempt to cross this tonight. Let’s find a place to camp, Einion said.

  Sounds good to me. I’ll find you a good spot and take off to snag some grub—something juicy. Hmmmm…

  Einion turned off the dragon stream of consciousness. As Trahaearn planned his dinner, Einion didn’t want to hear his debate over deer or mountain cat or wolf. It could go on for a while.

  The sun fell below the horizon as they flew. Trahaearn backtracked away from the wilderness and came upon a meandering stream they had crossed earlier. Following it, he found a secluded burrow, flanked by several large rocks and a tree that clung to the bank’s edge. He circled around and landed. Einion climbed down, and Trahaearn set off in search of his meal.

  Unslinging and dropping his pack onto the grass, Einion stripped off several layers of clothes, down to his naked skin, and stepped barefoot into the shallow water. The deepest part mid-stream rose to his knees. The water was frigid this early in spring, but Einion didn’t feel it as he floated on his back under the surface. He stared at the sky through the budding branches of the tree, watching the darkness grow in the expanse above him. After relaxing in the gentle sweep of the water, Einion grabbed a bar of soap from his pack and lathered himself from head to toe until he was satisfyingly refreshed and clean.

  Trahaearn landed with a muted thud as Einion was pulling on his clothes. He looked satiated and sleepy, so Einion grabbed a handful of nuts and dried fruit and settled against his dragon for the night.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  FOOLISH SENTIMENTS

  On the sheer cliff at the edge of the wilderness, Rhianu stood beside her mother, facing west into the blinding sun that would soon be setting. The rays of the orange star spread far across the sky. No mountain hid its descent, only the edge of the desert reaching into the distance.

  A drop off the cliff meant sure death, so a wall had been constructed to prevent misguided souls from falling over the edge. A hidden footpath emerged from the forest and followed the wall to a clearing where altar stones, similar to the ones in the chamber of the Dark Master, had been laid.

  Rhianu shrugged uncomfortably. Weeks ago, she underwent the change from a Dark Emrys to this sickening, light-filled being. Carrying light made her feel weak, and her skin prickled with heat. Learning how to control the power took time. Siana guided her in the basics: how to radiate and absorb light, how to project it, and how to discern it. Rhianu had not used these abilities since she was a young girl, before she became the Dark Master’s vessel, and they did not return to her easily.

  The orb of darkness, the power from her master, pulsed inside Rhianu and throbbed as it pushed against its restraints. The energy made her mind heavy, and many afternoons, Rhianu suffered from a pounding headache. The power longed to be free and coursing throughout her. At the same time, Rhianu wondered what would happen if the power broke free and rushed into her body while she still held this new light. She transitioned to a Dark Emrys before becoming the Vessel for a reason. Light fought against darkness, and within a soul, the suffering would be unbearable.

  “It’s time, Mother. Let’s begin,” Rhianu muttered.

  Siana closed her eyes and turned her face to the sun. The wind pulled her flowing locks. Several small braids, resembling a crown, twisted around her brow. A relaxed smile spread across her face, mirroring her completely serene body.

  “Stand behind me, and place your fingertips on my temples. You’ll be able to see clearly what I see,” Siana said.

  Rhianu moved behind her mother and lifted her arms to Siana’s temples. Rhianu still expected the pain from touching her mother, but it never came, not now that she carried light too. “How does this work?” Rhianu closed her eyes.

  “You’ll see. I reach with my light. I imagine its energy sweeping across the distance through space—searching and seeking. Watch.”

  Heat warmed Rhianu’s fingertips where they touched her mother. An uncanny feeling began, as if Siana lifted light, up from her heart-center, and cast it out. A tingling wave passed through Rhianu’s fingertips as energy left her mother’s body.

  Rhianu gasped and straightened her arms, pushing her body away slightly while maintaining contact. A field of silver stars—farther than the mortal eye could see, past the boundaries of the desert, and into the three realms on the other side—opened to her mind. The lights stretched out in a plane, some higher than others, some clustered together, and some moving.

  “Are those the emrys?” Rhianu asked.

  “Yes.”

  “What of the moving ones?”

  “The Dragon Patrols… they move in pairs,” Siana said.

  “Which one is the Prince of Terrin?”

  “This one is the prince.” Siana mentally alluded to one of the dots.

  “How can you tell?”

  “I can sense the lack of light he has. He hasn’t made a full conversion to an Emrys of Light yet. He still retains his darkness. See how his brilliance is far less than the others.”

  Rhianu scrunched her face. “Yes, I can see now. All the lights have a different intensity.”

  “All emrys carry varying amounts of light. This dot is the Prince of Terrin because he has the least amount.”

  “And you’re sure?” Rhianu asked.

  “Yes. No other half-emrys exist in the three realms. I am sure.”

  “He’s closer than all the other dots. That would mean he’s alone and in Rolant. Why? Wouldn’t he have an emryn guard?”

  “I do not know, Daughter. Perhaps his guard is mortal, and I can’t discern them. Take care—things are not always as they appear.”

  Smiling smugly, Rhianu dropped her arms, and the vision immediately left. “You know me, Mother, I’m always careful. The time to move is now.” Stupid fool. “His arrogance will be his undoing.”

  “He’ll have his dragon. They’re never apart.”

  “Not an issue. Aerona can deal with a silly, young dragon.”

  Siana turned to her daughter. “So you’re ready? You’re leaving?”

  “Yes.”

  Another soul materialized at the clearing’s edge, behind the stone slab, and lingered in the shade. Rhianu had asked him here earlier, the commander of the leagues of her men and her dragon army and, not least, her brother.

  “Meuric, you’re right on schedule. How do you just appear like that?”

  His voice was deep and rough. “Dear sister, you shall never know.” He stepped out of the darkness. “Mother, always a pleasure. What has Rhianu roped you into this time?”

  Siana smiled ever
so slightly. “Son, lay your concerns aside.”

  Her mother’s forehead crinkled as her brow lifted. She and Meuric held a silent, calculated gaze.

  Rhianu scowled, remembering that her mother had implied an ulterior motive with her more-than-willing compliance when she gave her the light. Surely Meuric would not be dragged into her plot.

  Meuric was not unlike Rhianu. He was as strikingly handsome as Rhianu was beautiful. He had dark, olive-toned skin also, not from their mother, but from a different father sharing the same complexion as the men of the region possessed. But their visage held a smooth softness most of the men from the moors did not have. Rhianu supposed this was because of their mother. Inherited emryn traits tempered harshness, and yet they both maintained strong features: chiseled cheeks, straight nose, and deep-set eyes. Meuric’s eyes were a blue so pristinely clear and unusual for men of such dark skin, that many believed they were otherworldly. Nonetheless, they carried secrets only the commander of a savage army serving a dark power could know. Rhianu liked this. His mystique made him unapproachable, men feared him, and women gave up every longing in his arms.

  Meuric was the one she shared her deepest feelings with, the one person she truly trusted. He was second only to her dragon, Aerona. Meuric never betrayed Rhianu, and she had no reason to doubt him. He followed command without question and accepted that she was the Dark Master’s vessel, a position he never tried to take for himself—as others had.

  As one other had. Rhianu could never forget his betrayal. She forbade anyone to speak his name, yet she played with his name in her mind. Caedryn. The memory of him made her sick. How he made her believe he loved her, but his love was a lie! He used her and attempted to take her power.

  The Betrayer was exiled—after Rhianu plunged her dagger into his dragon’s chest. A hideous tragedy. The dragon could by no means be blamed, but he had to be punished. She scraped the blade across the liar’s chest, coating him in the black dragon blood. The death was slow and painful, and the Betrayer howled and thrashed while he watched his dragon die. Because of the dragon stone bond, the Betrayer experienced every anguished breath. When the dragon gasped his last, Rhianu took pleasure in ripping the stone from the Betrayer’s neck and destroying it.

  No one would ever exploit her emotions again, and Rhianu hardened herself against any future weakness.

  The latest report was that the fiend was dead, he and his army of loyal followers gone in a wisp of smoke in a pathetic battle. The news of his failure and demise thrilled Rhianu more than she had felt in a long time.

  So she trusted no man but Meuric. He would never become involved in a plot her mother might concoct.

  Rhianu whipped her cloak around herself in annoyance. The light’s generosity supplied more than enough body heat. She slipped past her brother to the path. “Walk with me,” Rhianu called, as she left her mother behind.

  With long strides, Meuric closed the gap and fell into pace beside his sister. They moved quickly through the dim wood and down the path leading into a small, dead valley.

  “I know you don’t like this,” Rhianu said.

  “Sister, I could come with you. I’ll be your guard.”

  Rhianu paused and touched her brother’s bare arm above his leather gauntlet.

  Meuric grimaced and spoke through gritted teeth. “Woman, you’re burning me.”

  Rhianu yanked her hand away and growled. “This light is a burden.” She cleared her throat. “You can’t come. I need you here. You’re the only one I can count on to keep your idiot men under control and prepare them for battle.”

  Not many half-emrys who still carried light remained in Morvith. Having light in a smattering of them was a benefit because they could heal themselves, and they weren’t a threat to her power. Most of her Dragon Riders made the full transition to a Dark Emrys and were fierce warriors who fought without a conscience. True, a marked few were pure evil—raping and killing if Meuric didn’t hold them at bay with his commands.

  Meuric resumed composure. “As you desire, Your Highness. We’ll be ready upon your return.”

  “I’m grateful I can rely on you, Brother.”

  “Don’t let the light trick you into betraying who you are,” Meuric said.

  “I know you’re troubled, but I’ll come through this ordeal unscathed.”

  When Siana had brought Rhianu, weak and shaking, from the dark underground chamber after the transition, Meuric was waiting at the exit to take her in his arms and fly her on his dragon to her stronghold. He cringed at first touch but didn’t voice his opinion about her revolting change. He stayed at her side for weeks while she regained her strength. Never touching her—for now he wouldn’t—though watching while their mother taught Rhianu to wield the light.

  “If you don’t—”

  “I will.”

  “I don’t like his designs. You’ve served the Master all this time, and only now is he asking you, and only you, to do this. Allow me to go in your stead.”

  “Don’t, Meuric—don’t question. You know what happens to those who speak against him.”

  “He doesn’t frighten me, Rhianu.”

  “He should.”

  They exited the trail into the sunken valley. The temperature waxed hot from gases steaming in steady waves from cracks in the earth, creating a stuffy, choking heat.

  Three dragons waited at the edge of the rippling waves. Rhianu approached Aerona, a dark green dragon with scales as smooth as polished metal. She caressed Aerona’s fierce jaw and leaned her head against the dragon’s warm face.

  It’s time, love. Are you ready for a new adventure? The undertaking will be dangerous, but I know you’re able to handle it. Aerona had been as dismayed and concerned about her rider’s change as Meuric had been. Rhianu assured her the transformation was according to plan, and when the endeavor was over, she would be as she always was. Without travail, desired results were not achieved, and Rhianu had much she desired.

  I’m always ready, Rhianu.

  Rhianu turned to Meuric. “Time to go.” Deliberating, she flexed her fists but reached into his hair and slid her fingers between the dark strands against his skin. To his credit, he didn’t flinch. She tightened her grip on his scalp and tilted his face down so their eyes met. Rhianu searched his eyes. “Don’t underestimate him, Meuric. Should I fail, you’re to take my place.”

  “Then don’t fail.”

  With a sudden move, Meuric—the regal soldier, usually firm and proud—enveloped his sister in an uncharacteristic hug. His solid arms crushed into her ribs and made Rhianu feel delicate and small. She caught a sharp masculine scent of smoke and pine. A sense of foreboding, his apprehension at letting her go, slipped through her. The premonition was nonsense—she was strong. Rhianu could handle any chore placed before her. She survived the transformation. This next step would be simple.

  Meuric didn’t say another word. He dropped the embrace and stepped back from Rhianu, his posture hardening and his eyes shining with their usual enigma. His head bowed with a brisk nod in the normal manner of respect that he demonstrated in front of his men. Meuric swung onto his navy blue, silver-flecked dragon and was gone.

  Rhianu sighed. How much time would pass until she saw him again?

  Her mother emerged from the path. Had she been lurking in the gloom? Did she see the embrace? No doubt she would be able to sense the longing Rhianu held in her chest for the security of having her brother near, but she brushed the thought off. No time for emotions, no time to second-guess herself. She had accomplished harder assignments before—murdered men with her bare hands and performed torturous, despicable rites from which lesser, mortal men would have perished. She was the Vessel. Rhianu had been bred for the Dark Master’s use.

  Siana stroked her dragon, Nimue. She was the most unusual dragon color Rhianu had ever seen: pink and nude—the color of pale flesh. The dragon stone around her mother’s neck blended into Siana’s fair skin, matching flawlessly.

  Over the y
ears, her mother had developed an ability. Siana could conceal herself and her dragon by bending light around her and masking how others perceived her. The trait was handy for stealthy tasks. Her mother was such a pure receptacle of light that the brutes under Rhianu’s command, because of their lack of light, could not generally detect Siana’s whereabouts. A useful skill to make sure the men weren’t backstabbers or delinquents.

  Rhianu’s skin crawled while her mother regarded her. She returned the stare, her loathing eyes penetrating Siana’s vibrant hopeful ones. Her mother was holding back, unsure whether she wanted to speak her mind. Rhianu saw when her mother came to a conclusion.

  Siana stepped closer and touched Rhianu’s cheek. Out of habit, Rhianu was about to push her hand away, but the touch of her mother’s hand did not burn—it did not mar her flesh.

  A momentary sting of tears bit, from a flush of embarrassment and even hatred, but Rhianu roughly brushed them from her face. Stop being weak. This light made her feel too many tender emotions.

  Too late. Rhianu cursed herself.

  Her mother had seen and felt the emotion.

  Weakness. Emotions were weakness.

  But her mother didn’t think so. With Siana’s touch, Rhianu experienced a different sensation—something she didn’t realize was possible—a transmission of feelings more intense than perception. Was the foreboding she felt from Meuric by the same transference?

  Have I been missing out on such a gift made possible by the light? No. She shook her head. No foolish sentiments.

  Hope and faith slipped under her skin in a desperate gamble because this was treason against the dark power ruling them. Nonetheless, Siana plainly expressed, with sickening beseeching, her desire for her daughter to be swayed by her new body of purity and to follow the light!

  Rhianu turned harshly, slapping her mother’s hand away. She climbed onto her dragon and fled the scene.

  CHAPTER SIX

  THE TWO POWERS

  Crossing the wilderness by dragon took from sunup to sundown. When the Betrayer stole leagues of Rhianu’s men, the journey by foot took a month to cross the barren wasteland. They prepared wagons with barrels of water for transport, but even still, Rhianu wasn’t positive how they survived. Surely they should have perished on the way. A fitting, slow death for men who could switch allegiance with ease. This was why she allowed the mutinous men to leave rather than slaughter them with her Dragon Riders. Rhianu flew into a rage when her Dragon Scouts reported the Betrayer’s men succeeded in crossing the massive expanse of land.