Truth of Embers

by Caitlyn McFarland

  Kai didn’t mind. She couldn’t stop thinking about her parents. How Owain’s dragons had them. How they might be hurting them and Brendan—Ashem had confirmed it was the brother without children—they way they’d hurt her.

  Rhys predicted that after Owain got word about the broken facility, heard the rumors, fell into their traps, it would probably take him three weeks to gather and organize his soldiers and one week to fly to Eryri—weather permitting. Add on the delay he’d worked in to give them time to get back to Eryri with the rescued humans, and that gave them a month.

  One month.

  In thirty-one days, give or take, the war that had lasted a thousand years would be over.

  She leaned into the wind streaming over Rhys’s back, as if that could urge him to fly faster. Below her, the endless ocean threw off sparks of glittering sapphire, no land in sight from horizon to horizon. Dragons flew fast enough that the wind tugged at her hair and pressed against her like a lover. After weeks underground, Kai couldn’t get enough of it, even though this was their third day in the sky.

  So why didn’t those endless days as Owain’s prisoner fade like a bad dream?

  That day with Rhys in the caves, she tried to open the door, to feel, but it had been completely overwhelming. She’d had to slam it shut and focus on the moment, and being with Rhys. Whatever Owain had done to her physically, the sundering had made it ten times worse.

  Rhys had said this would change nothing, but that was crazy. Being sundered changed everything. If the dragons didn’t want her as queen, that was fine.

  If Rhys didn’t want her...

  Kai swallowed hard, fighting back the tears. The first night on the road, she’d woken Rhys with her nightmares. He wanted to talk to her, she knew, but she couldn’t form the words. Didn’t want to relive the memories. Reliving it was like having it happen all over again.

  She couldn’t. So every time he tried to talk, she threw herself at him, which had the added benefit of...well, several things.

  She might not feel the same excessive need to be around Rhys, but she was pretty sure she still loved him. There was something there, she felt it when they kissed. When she curled up next to him at night and he dragged her tight against him, one arm wrapped around her waist. She definitely loved that, and the way it made her feel. Treasured. Safe.

  They were fine, as long as they didn’t talk about anything except the upcoming war with Owain. As long as he didn’t ask her to open that door.

  Or try to prevent her from saving her parents.

  * * *

  Rhys was glad to travel west, for once. The constant tailwind had allowed the dragons to cover significantly more distance each day and there were plenty of islands to land on for the night. On the fifth day, they crossed the coast into mainland China. Over land, the going was slower. It had taken a long day of hard travel to cover the final thousand miles. He, Kai, Ashem and Morwenna met the three dragons from the Invisible who had stayed to keep an eye on things, joining their camp on the shore of a lake in the western Kunlun Shan—the mountains that bordered the desert’s southern edge.

  It was late when they arrived. Between the travel and the two interruptions by short bouts of sundering aftershock, he could barely stay on his feet, and Kai hadn’t fared much better. After a quick greeting of the dragons from the Invisible and a cold meal, he and Kai had set up their tent and crawled inside to sleep.

  Morning dawned clear and cold. After a short conference with the dragons of the Invisible, they decided to put off the raid until nightfall. Kai wasn’t happy with the delay, but in this, Rhys had to refuse her. Ashem wouldn’t be able to cover all of them in a barrier in their dragon forms, so they would have to fly under cover of night.

  So they lingered in the camp, resting. Kai, who had always struck Rhys as someone who would rather have company, kept to herself. She was never outright rude, but she didn’t speak unless she was spoken to.

  She didn’t smile.

  He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. He’d thought she was getting better. She hadn’t minded the company of Cadoc and his rogues, anyway. Every time Rhys tried to speak to her—to ask her what was wrong, to ask her not to go on the raid—she kissed him until talking was the last thing on his mind.

  Now, however, the conversation couldn’t be avoided.

  He left the fire where Ashem was speaking to Tane, the leader of the Invisible. He’d flown straight to the Taklamakan after leaving the Arctic. They’d been over everything before. Ashem wasn’t normally one to rehash, but now that Rhys and Kai were on the mend, Ashem seemed adrift. As if he wasn’t sure what to do without Juli.

  Kai lay in their tent. At first, Rhys thought she was asleep, but when he lay down next to her, she rolled over to curl into him, her fingers stroking up and down his chest.

  He caught her hand. “The raid is tonight.”

  She stilled. “I’m going, Rhys.”

  Rhys hadn’t realized he was so desperate to keep her out of it. “There’s a reason Wingless don’t fight, Kai. Last time, you were captured. Tortured. We were sundered. We’ll never have children—”

  Kai withdrew her hand. “You think I don’t know? Obviously, it wasn’t going to be for a while, but...yeah. I’ve thought about it.”

  “Regardless, I was wrong to bring you when I went after Deryn.” The consequences had been nothing short of staggering. He could practically hear Powell saying, “I told you so.”

  Kai sat up. The tent dimmed the bright sun outside until she was little more than a shadow. “And I told you that if you weren’t my ride, this wouldn’t be an issue. If our places were reversed, I’d never dream of telling you not to come. They have my parents.”

  A hot rage had been building in him for days, fed by the constant pain of being sundered until sometimes, for no reason at all, he could hardly keep it inside. “Our places aren’t reversed. I say that you won’t fight. As you pointed out, you can’t go anywhere without me.”

  “Damn it.” She was doing her best to keep her voice low, and her words emerged strangled and high-pitched. “If you leave me, I’ll follow you.”

  Now he sat up, too. Why couldn’t she see that he was just doing what was best for her? That he needed to protect her? “If you try to follow I swear to the Stars I’ll command one of the Invisible to fly you back to Eryri. I don’t care if I’ve got to tie you to their back like a sack of potatoes.”

  Her nostrils flared. Her hands were clenched so hard into fists that her arms shook. “If you try it, I will leave you.”

  Rhys opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Her words sent him into a blind panic.

  She didn’t mean for a little while. She meant forever.

  Leave him.

  She could, now, if she chose. Without the magic, there was nothing forcing her to stay.

  He wanted to tell her good luck, that it would be hard for her to escape an island in the South Pacific when he would use the mantle to command every dragon there not to help her get away. But that would only make her angrier, and make him no better than a kidnapper. So instead he asked, “You want to leave?”

  The words came out so pathetic and broken that he wished he could call them back. How could she talk about leaving when he couldn’t even breathe at the thought of life without her? The pain at that thought—that she could just...go—was more unbearable than the sundering.

  Kai put her hands over her face, then dropped them. “Oh, hell.” Her eyes shone with unshed tears. “How would I explain to my family about the fact that I’m going to look like I’m twenty for the rest of their lives? Awkward.”

  He couldn’t summon a smile at the joke. Everything but sex had felt so unnatural between them since the sundering. For a moment, he teetered on the edge of believing Morwenna. Perhaps he and Kai truly were incompatible.

  Per
haps it hadn’t been love.

  “I don’t want to leave.” Kai twined her arms around his neck and pulled him into her. “I’m sorry. But Rhys, you can’t tell me what I can and cannot do. If you try to control me—even for the sake of protecting me—I can’t promise to stay.”

  He held on to her, unable to find words. He wanted to keep her safe, take care of her problems, but she was right. He couldn’t try to control her. That was possession, not love.

  Kai spoke again. “I may be Wingless, but I’ve got enough magic to stand up to a dragon. Besides, I’m not necessary. All I was good for before was making your babies, and now I can’t even do that. It’s not going to hurt anyone if I die. The fate of the world no longer rests on my shoulders.” Her voice was intense and passionate. “Let me fight for this.”

  Let her choose, let her die. Let her live, keep her safe. He couldn’t think straight. “How can you think it won’t hurt anyone if you die? Juliet. Your family. Seren, Ffion, Cadoc and the vee. It would hurt every single one of them. And me—Stars, Kai. If I lost you again—”

  His throat closed over everything else he wanted to say. He wished he was Cadoc, who was never at a loss for words. He wished they were heartsworn, so he could show her what he was feeling, because he was so incapable of expressing it.

  He could keep her away from the raid tomorrow and risk losing her love, if he had it. Or he could let her go and risk losing her life. But loving Kai—truly loving her—meant putting her needs above his own. Ancients knew she needed this.

  In the end, it was really no choice at all.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Sweet Serenity

  Cadoc watched Seren from across the fire as she laid gentle fingers on Tharah’s face.

  Bare fingers.

  Kephas had whacked the half-Wonambi woman a good one while they were sparring after dinner, and she had a goose egg on her temple. She said it was nothing, but Seren had insisted on healing it.

  She still wore the fur-lined dress Owain had provided her. The veil was over her face, as well, so her hands were the only bit of skin he could see. Cadoc found his gaze sliding over them. Her palms small and square, fingers nimble, round nails short to keep them from catching on her gloves.

  Ancients, he wanted those hands on him.

  Stop it, scalebrain. This road leads you straight off a cliff.

  A slight tremor ran through Seren’s fingers as soft golden light gleamed between them. The goose egg shrank, but Cadoc watched the women in concern. Seren still hadn’t recovered—Rajani had to carry her, and even so they were taking twice the time they should to get home.

  Seren stood, her skirt falling in graceful folds around her, and accepted her gloves gingerly from Kephas.

  Cadoc glared. The Derkin boy had taken to following her around like a forlorn pup. If he wasn’t careful, Cadoc was going to have to remind him—forcefully—about the sacred nature of the Seeress.

  Seren spoke, voice sweet and serene. “Thank you, Kephas.” She glanced around at the other rogues huddled around the fire they’d made in an old, abandoned human building. They’d stopped for the night outside a rural town in the southwestern United States.

  “Anyone else?” Seren asked.

  Kephas and Rajani shook their heads. Kephas, of course, was a fool. Even if he’d been at death’s door, Seren couldn’t have healed him. Cadoc tucked his maimed hand deeper into his pocket, his good hand toying with the hilt of the long dagger strapped to his hip.

  She couldn’t heal either of them.

  Something hard and cool brushed his broken fingers. Seren’s pearl necklace. He’d forgotten it was there.

  Seren stood, the dress sweeping gracefully around her, though it was rumpled with travel, its hem covered in dust.

  “Sing us a song tonight, awenydd,” Rajani said from her place by the fire.

  Sunder it, she knew he didn’t want to sing.

  “Come,” the scarlet-eyed woman coaxed. “You’re going home. Surely there’s a song for that.”

  Cadoc tried to beg off, but she wouldn’t let him. He sighed. “All right. It’s been a bit. I’m rusty.”

  Not to mention that he’d rarely sung without accompanying himself. He hoped he could still hold a tune.

  He chose a song about homecoming. Partway through he lost the heart of it. The music was flat to his ears, the words empty. From the way the others smiled and clapped or stomped their feet, they didn’t hear anything wrong with it. That was something, he supposed.

  You’re going home.

  Could a man ever go home if he wasn’t the same man who had left? Would it be home, changed as it was? Griffith was gone, Ffion pregnant, and Rhys and Ashem sworn. And now Rhys and Kai sundered. Nothing would be the same.

  Ancients, he hoped the others were safe.

  The song ended, and Cadoc convinced Rajani to tell a story instead of giving in to a request for another. He absently counted the dragons in the old abandoned living room, blinked, then counted again.

  He swore. Seren was gone.

  A smear on the dusty wooden floor from the trailing skirt of her dress led Cadoc to the back door, which sat slightly ajar. Cadoc yanked it open and nearly ran straight into her. She started to topple back, and he caught her by the sleeve with his good hand.

  “Sunder it, Seren. What are you doing out here?” He pulled to keep her upright. She overbalanced and crashed into him, her arms going around his neck, soft body coming full against his. The scent of sandalwood, roses and female stampeded his brain into mush. He remembered what her lips looked like without the veil. Full, pink, luscious—

  Stars, have mercy. He swallowed and waited for her to regain her feet, battling for all he was worth not to let his mind wander. Not to remember that he’d held her like this once before.

  Once, when he’d thought there might be a way.

  Then she’d had a vision that saved Rhys’s life. That moment had thrown everything into perspective. She was the Seeress, and her visions were necessary. He was no one—an idiot bard whose only use was to make others laugh.

  He’d walked away and never looked back.

  Liar. You look back every lonely night.

  “What are you doing out here?” he repeated, voice sharper than he intended.

  “Getting a breath of air.” She matched him tone for tone.

  Cadoc willed his irritation away. “Rhys asked me to protect you. I can’t do that if you wander off.”

  “Thank you for your concern.” Seren pulled her arm from his grasp and lifted her chin. “But I assure you, I had no intention of running away.”

  Cadoc squinted. There were wet spots on the veil below Seren’s chin, as if water had dripped onto it. He looked up, but there was no rain. Had she been crying?

  He didn’t get to ask. Seren swept past him into the entryway of the abandoned house. He followed and caught up to her before she rejoined the others. “I told him you wouldn’t want this. Me for a bodyguard.”

  Seren didn’t turn. “I can understand the need for it on the road, but once we get to Eryri I won’t need anyone. I have Iolani and the vees assigned to watch my rooms by the Council.” Her voice was prim beneath the veil. “Besides, I’m sure you’d rather be with Rhys.”

  Cadoc’s smile was bitter. “I’m afraid there isn’t much use for a one-handed warrior in the king’s vee. I’m nothing but baggage.”

  Seren made a sound of disgust and resignation, but when she spoke again, her voice was softer. “You aren’t.”

  Cadoc gave a self-mocking laugh. “Just think, my lady. It could be worse. He could have assigned Ashem.”

  Seren’s laugh was surprised. “Ancients, forbid.”

  She leaned against a wall outside the living room. Cadoc could see the others beyond the empty doorway, listening rapt
ly to Rajani’s story. Her stories tended to have that effect.

  Seren sighed. “I keep wishing I hadn’t been so stupid. That I could have been a soldier, like Deryn. Maybe I wouldn’t have gotten captured in the first place.”

  Cadoc settled against the opposite wall and kept his voice low. “If Owain had wanted to take Deryn that day, he could have.”

  Seren sighed, puffing out the fabric of the veil. When she spoke, her tone was light. “Would you not change me, Cadoc ap Brychan?”

  Cadoc knew he should go into the well-lit room with the others, away from her. But he kept remembering their last trip to Eryri. Remembering before. For all he’d pushed her away outside, he craved time alone with her, and this—with several feet of space between them—was safe enough. Seren made him feel...comforted. Like the world wasn’t all bad. Like, perhaps, he could still find his way, even if his path wasn’t the one he’d expected. “No, my lady. I would not.”

  She tilted her head down, as if looking at her hands. “I wish you would call me Seren. You do. Sometimes.”

  Cadoc winced. He was trying to break the habit. “It wouldn’t be right.”

  Seren made a disgusted sound and gave a dismissive flick of her hand.

  Cadoc’s mouth twisted into a wry smile. Ancients, if only he didn’t like her so much, he might believe it when he told himself staying away was the right thing to do.

  He fished her necklace from his pocket. “Here.”

  Seren’s eyes brightened and she took it from his hand. “You found it?”

  “I went to enough trouble to get it for you.” He’d well-nigh drowned. “I didn’t want you to lose it. The chain is broken.” He’d been tying it—with much trouble—around his wrist.

  “That’s easy enough to fix. Thank you.”

  “Lady Seren!” Tharah called from inside the room. “You said you’d finish telling me the story of what happened on the island!”

  Cadoc—who’d made sure he was visible to the others through the doorway—glanced at Seren. He wasn’t ready for their time to end. “The Lady may not want to talk about how she was captured.”