by Lisa Rector
Thick clotted blood globbed from the cut. Catrin saw the culprit as clear as if she dove into Rhianu’s body with her light. The sac connecting mother and baby had detached, and blood filled the womb. The baby was suffocating, its life source to its mother severed. Catrin punctured the membrane around the baby, and the waters gushed out.
Her hands slipped inside and pulled the babe out. They were right—a girl.
And she was gray and limp.
Rhianu lifted her head. “Save her, Catrin. Save her. Oh, dearest Deian, please don’t let my baby die.”
Catrin laid the baby on fresh linens a maid had brought. She rubbed the tiny body vigorously to stimulate blood flow. To no avail. A heart-center didn’t glow within the babe’s chest. Don’t do this. Don’t be dead. Don’t be dead! Catrin placed her hand on the babe’s chest and leaned over the mouth and nose. She blew the breath of life into the lungs and willed light to enter the fragile body and kick-start her heart. Beat. Take my light. Pump blood throughout her body. Circulate. Give life. Restore and heal.
A fleeting thought ripped through Catrin. If she dies, this will be my doing—just as I doomed the dragons. I must not let her die.
Deian, hear me. Restore my faith. Allow your grace to work through me. Save this child.
She hoped she wasn’t too late.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
CLARITY
Meuric blinked at the room’s chaos. Why wasn’t he moving? He had to take action. Catrin was yelling at him. Save her? Yes, please. Save Arya. Save our child. But, no, the midwife had cut the baby out, and she had survived.
Catrin took his knife while he remained motionless. Meuric watched her cut into Rhianu’s belly and watched her try to save the baby. How could this be happening again? His worst fears confirmed. He knew this would happen to his sister if she became pregnant. His eyes were cemented to his sister’s belly, which was cut open for the world to see her ripped-apart insides. A pool of blood spread from between Rhianu’s legs and dripped off the table.
Too much blood.
He felt the familiar pull of slowness—of moving through sludge.
Move, Meuric. Move! Save your sister, Derog yelled. His dragon hadn’t left him alone. Move your feet! You can save her.
Meuric stumbled forward. Rhianu was limp. Einion kept her pain free, but that no longer mattered when she was unconsciousness from blood loss.
The maids were sniffing in the corner, useless. An irritation filled Meuric, kicking his halting steps into smooth strides.
At the tableside he said, I don’t know what to do.
Yes. You. Do. You might not be well practiced, but you can manage this, Derog shouted.
The commotion in the room overwhelmed Meuric. He needed one ribbon of clarity.
“Silence! Leave, you sniveling wenches.”
The maids scurried out of the room.
How many predicaments had Meuric rescued Rhianu from? He’d left her on the battlefield in her crippled state after having her power stripped from her. He wanted this, at the time, to help her, but he wanted to see her through the change because her loss of power was his doing.
Blood raced toward his feet.
I failed her.
No, you’ve never failed her, Derog said.
After all Rhianu’s yearning for power and the deplorable things she had done… after all the abuse she endured—after all the abuse he endured serving her, Meuric should resent Rhianu, but he didn’t. Despite the twisted promises he made his sister, he loved her.
I’ve broken my promises to her. I betrayed her.
Because you love her. You loved her enough to make the hard choices she couldn’t, Derog replied.
Where Rhianu commanded, Meuric once obeyed. His obedience was paramount, his fealty unflawed. They conquered many lands in the name of power. But no more. He had changed. Rhianu had changed. He saw this, even as she lay dying.
But she was alive and free from Cysgod.
And a beautiful half-emrys, no less. No longer greater darkness, but greater light.
As I am.
Rhianu was peaceful—the stillest vessel in the room—because while Catrin huffed and worked on the babe, Einion swiped sweat from his brow and cradled Rhianu’s head…
Meuric! You’re running out of time, Derog roared.
Meuric’s nostrils flared, and his breathing quickened.
He had scraped together Rhianu’s broken heart. He would scrape Rhianu together one last time.
Deian, Master of Light, help me. He plunged his hands into his sister’s open belly. What do I do now? Following intuition, he pulled on the cord, removing the afterbirth. The empty cavity oozed blood.
Close the womb by sealing the long incision, a voice said.
Meuric’s senses heightened. His mental acuity measured time at a steady pace. Direction and urging from the unknown voice guided him. An answer from Deian? He hadn’t left Meuric, not even after Meuric turned from him.
Hope swelled inside Meuric. You will live. You will live!
His sight dove through Rhianu, and Meuric did his best to approximate the edges and willed them to reconnect. Cell grabbed cell, and the bond reformed.
Good. Now contract the womb, the voice said.
Meuric willed the muscle to constrict—shrink and seal the raw edges. Rhianu’s lifeblood continued to seep out. He pushed and pulled with his light until the womb contracted to normal size. How he knew, he wasn’t sure. The bleeding stopped. The danger passed.
With the baby’s wail, tension in the room released. Meuric’s body shuddered with a sigh. Catrin dried the baby, wrapped her in clean linen, and handed her to Einion.
Catrin moved around the table and touched Meuric’s hands, which were still inside Rhianu. “Meuric, you did it. You saved her with your light. You can remove your hands. I’ll take over. I’ll finish the healing.”
Catrin tugged on his hands as she guided them out.
“Breathe, my love,” Catrin whispered.
Nodding, Meuric felt his shoulders droop. A heaviness settled into his upper limbs as if they were dangling disconnected by his sides. He mechanically wiped his red, sticky palms across his chest. He was numb, like before the adrenaline had worn off during the battle with the savages. Before the pain kicked in.
He moved down the table toward Rhianu’s head and touched her face. She could have been dead, but she was breathing with her lips slightly parted. The mace dropped, his adrenaline bottomed out, and Meuric’s gut lurched.
Before he kissed her forehead and her cheek, he crumpled to his knees and whispered in her ear, “Dearest Rhianu, I’m home.”
And he wept.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
FINAL RENDEZVOUS
They moved Rhianu to her bed. Meuric sat beside his sister with his head on the sheets and his hand in hers. Catrin occasionally came and rubbed his back or kissed his cheek after checking on Rhianu.
She slept, her body almost healed, but she’d be tired as her blood supply slowly increased. Catrin explained they could do only so much—not make new blood but heal damaged tissue. That was how healing worked.
Catrin brought the baby in and held her to Rhianu’s breast. She sucked noisily. Rhianu cracked her eyes briefly. Pillows supported her, but she didn’t make the effort to lift her arms.
Einion sat on the other side of the bed, giving Meuric a wary eye. Meuric didn’t blame him. He had once beaten Einion to within an inch of his life. Meuric smiled at the creased lines on his brother-in-law’s forehead. My brother-in-law. Meuric sympathized now that he was a father too. He understood Einion’s concern over his wife and child. Meuric wondered when the wedding happened. He knew it had because they both wore rings. Unadorned silver circles—exactly what Rhianu liked.
Meuric didn’t hold a grudge against Einion anymore for getting his sister in this condition. They loved each other; this was clear. Life carried on no matter how much he was afraid of women having babies. He’d have to face this again when Catri
n became pregnant.
He was already thinking of Catrin as his wife, and they hadn’t even discussed nuptials. Meuric held on to what Glynis said about his children—his son. He had great hopes for his future.
Soon he’d show Catrin his room, as his wife, but for now, he wouldn’t leave his sister’s side.
***
Rhianu finally stayed awake long enough for Meuric to talk to her. They were alone. Einion had excused himself to take care of business.
As Meuric told Rhianu about his long journey and the events that had happened, he remembered Yasbail. “Where is she?”
Rhianu laughed. “I don’t remember a time when Yasbail didn’t exist, yet I do. Such conflicting memories. The last I can recall, she was in the southern province. When you disappeared after the battle, she was distraught. She planned to be here next week to help with my delivery. I guess those plans changed. Why don’t you go to her? She’ll be overjoyed to see you. I’m in excellent care. Mother won’t leave until I’m recovered.”
“What will you name your daughter?”
“Rhosyn. It means rose. She has been my bright spot among the sadness. My rose among the thorns.”
“I’m grateful you found happiness.”
“And love. I guess I owe you thanks, Meuric.”
“Me? What did I have to do with anything? You did the falling in love.”
“You”—Rhianu patted his hand—“never gave up on me. I didn’t understand why you came to me in Terrin when you did. Your heart had already turned from the Dark Master then. Hadn’t it?”
“I knew something was wrong. You were gone for weeks on your mission. So I came to you, and you were falling in love. You didn’t even see it. Your feelings frightened me, and I blamed the Dark Master. After the incident with”—his voice dropped low—“with Caedryn, you swore you’d never love again. You swore yourself solely to the darkness and its power. At first that was a relief, especially after the catastrophic events with Mara and Arya. I didn’t worry I might lose you in such a way.”
Rhianu smiled. “I knew you suffered. Though I was blind in my greed for power, you were always loyal to me.”
Meuric frowned. “I betrayed you when I let Einion take the dark power. Will you ever forgive me?” Meuric dropped his head and laid it upon Rhianu’s hand.
“Meuric, I might not have forgiven you if Einion had died. But all is well. All is forgiven.” Rhianu lifted Meuric’s head. “I understand your motivation and your love. I’m free from the darkness, and I can see clearly. You’ve shown me a better path.”
Meuric kissed Rhianu’s hand. “That’s all I hoped.”
Rhianu shifted in the bed, sitting higher. “I have you to thank for saving my life, and I suppose I have Catrin to thank for saving my baby’s life.” Rhianu paused and studied Meuric’s face. “You fell for Blondie. I just don’t see it, but I’m happy for you. I don’t envy your trip to Gorlassar to meet the parents. I did the same. Meinwen’s a tricky one. Watch what she says and take it seriously. She has a way with words that will trap you.”
Meuric smirked. He was thinking of Beli’s way with words. Catrin once compared them similarly. Was Meinwen another Beli? Meuric would steel his patience.
“The wedding will be there,” Rhianu said.
“Is that where you held your wedding? We can wait until you’re well enough to travel.”
“Yes,” Rhianu said. “My wedding was there. But no, take her home, Meuric. You shall not wait for me. Catrin has been patient enough while you sit by my sickbed. Take her home—before she gets on my nerves.”
Meuric laughed and kissed Rhianu. “Very well. By your leave.”
***
Catrin tiptoed out of Rhianu’s room after bringing Rhosyn in, leaving Einion and Meuric to mind her. The door latched behind her with a quiet click, and her exhausted feet shuffled down the corridor as she coveted rest. After passing many doors on the way to her chambers, Catrin paused and gazed out a balcony window at a barren, black hillside. She sighed. She longed for the waving grasses and colorful, flower-filled meadows of Gorlassar. She longed for family—home.
“Catrin,” a voice called after her.
The familiar voice made her smile. Time and again, while she was on her adventure back in time, Catrin had longed to hear Einion speak her name. His presence rounded the corner, and Catrin turned, slowly, anticipating a heady rush when she saw him.
It didn’t come.
Einion hurried up to her, his wildly curling hair exactly as she remembered, falling against his weary facial features. He had the look of a crazed man, or perhaps just the look of a worn-out husband and father.
Catrin dipped her chin, her eyes resting on the stone floor, confused by the emotions that didn’t come when she finally had this first meeting alone with Einion. She was beginning to think he’d never seek her out as he had when they were younger. Catrin missed their secret meetings, sleeping under the stars and trees, flying together on their dragons cross-country, on a whim, for adventure. She missed Einion. He was, after all, her other half for the majority of his life. She was his shadow.
“Catrin,” Einion said again as he stopped in front of her. His finger came to her chin, and he lifted her face to meet his. He slid his hands against her cheeks and held her.
She was mistaken. His eyes weren’t crazed, but filled with unspeakable joy. Light gleamed behind the hazel irises.
“For a long time, I have wanted to gaze into your eyes, Catrin,” Einion said.
Concern floated from where his hands touched her face.
“It’s been nearly eight moons,” he said. “What happened to you? I feared the worst after the pressure wave. I feared… Never mind.”
A smile spread across his face, and Catrin felt his concern surrender to amusement. His thumb moved across her cheekbone. “You’ve lost weight. You’re as bony as a dragon’s spine. Is this Meuric’s fault? It’s my turn to teach him a lesson or two. I’ll not have him treat you this way, not my Catrin.”
“Einion,” Catrin whispered. His hands rested on her shoulders. She reached up and touched the scruffy growth on his face. “Einion, I’m fine.”
Catrin remembered the emotional farewell they exchanged shortly after Einion became king. This long-awaited meeting wasn’t charged with as much feeling. Rather, Catrin was amazed to greet a friend, not a would-be lover.
“I know you are,” Einion said. “I see the way you look at Meuric. I suppose I can forgive him for nearly killing me.”
“Believe me, we had words about that.”
“I wouldn’t doubt it. What’d you do? Did you hit him?”
Catrin laughed. “Something like that. But you must admit; you’re relieved I don’t have feelings for you anymore.”
“Yes, Catrin. I am. I’m overjoyed you’re happy. I’m glad for you. We can be family. I can consider you my sister, and all is well. Catrin, I wanted to say I’m sorry. Will you forgive me for how I teased you and made light of your feelings for me? I was childish, and I’ve moved on. I’ve grown up.”
Catrin grinned and poked Einion in the ribs. He responded by grabbing her hands and twisting her against his chest. As he tickled her stomach, she squirmed in his grip.
“I don’t think you’ll ever grow up, Einion. It’s in your blood, thanks to Trahaearn,” she said through labored breath. “I do forgive you. I harbor no ill feelings toward you.”
Einion stopped tickling her. “You are thin. Your ribs are sticking out.”
Wind swept over them from the balcony as a lumbering, orange dragon flew up and perched on the rail. Trahaearn stuck his head into the hallway. “I heard my name. You two always leave me out of rendezvous. As soon as Catrin comes back it’s, ‘Let’s ignore Trahaearn. Let’s have secret meetings in the hallway with Einion, talking about—’”
“Trahaearn!” Catrin ran over to him and circled her arms around his long neck. “I’m thrilled to see you.”
“Thought you’d never say that,” Trahaearn said.
“Trust me. You were missed,” Catrin said.
“Aww, Catrin, that means a lot.” Trahaearn nuzzled her shoulder, and Catrin rubbed his face.
Einion approached the pair. He touched the orange dragon stone that hung around Catrin’s neck.
Catrin placed her hand over Einion’s. “Your stone. I forgot. You’ll be wanting this back.” She reached around her neck, lifted the chain, and slid it over Einion’s head. Her hand lingered at the stone against his chest. As her fingertips pulled away, Trahaearn’s presence left her mind, and she sighed. Peace. Her thoughts only with Cerys. Einion’s eyes shone with tears as he looked at his dragon. Thoughts, hopes, dreams, and emotions passed back and forth, fully restored to rightful dragon and rider. This was a happy day indeed.
Einion spoke. “Trahaearn came to give me a report, which will be easier with our dragon stone. Thank you, Catrin.”
“What sort of report?” Catrin asked. She sensed urgency in Einion’s voice.
Einion frowned. “The world is a different place since you’ve been gone, Catrin. Ever since Rhianu was released from Cysgod’s power, we’ve been at civil war. The lords renounced Rhianu’s rule. They’re angry at how she treated them. Angry that they’ve been her pawns.”
“Civil war? This is awful,” Catrin said.
“Yes, and Lord Ffransis is moving against Lord Ivor,” Trahaearn said. “They’re having pointless border skirmishes, which are killing and injuring dragons. That’s where Siana is. She’s trying to resolve the conflicts peacefully. Meuric returned at a crucial time.”
Catrin’s blood froze. “What do you mean Meuric? What does he have to do with any of this?”
“Half of the lords vying for peace are requesting Meuric become king. They trusted him as their military leader. They want him to end the feuds.”
“Not as Cysgod’s vessel?” Catrin asked.
“No, that option is no longer viable,” Einion said.
Catrin’s shoulders dropped. Whew.
Einion continued. “We sealed the entrance to Uffern. No one can enter.”
