His eyes scanned her face, but he did not speak.
She blinked back tears. She would not cry now. Her task was laid out before her. She needed to be brave.
“I care for Ealasaid,” Iseult began, surprising her further, “and I care for my brother, but Finn,” he shook his head, “I would let the entire world burn if it meant you would live. I would leave my ancestors’ souls to rot in the in-between. I would cast aside my own soul, and everything else in this life I hold dear. I would lay down my life, if it meant you would continue to brighten this world, because that is precisely what you do. You think your are the darkness, a creature unworthy of life, but I think you are the most worthy person I’ve ever laid eyes upon. You are the only hope this cruel, spiteful land has. You are the only hope I have.”
She only had a moment to blink at him in shock, then he was down from his saddle, wrapping his arms around her waist to lift her to the ground. He wrapped her in his embrace and kissed her, and this time it was a real kiss. No pulling away. No stalking off into the night.
She reveled in his warmth, in his aliveness. In that moment, she didn’t care what she deserved, she only cared about what she wanted. Needed.
With the love she felt in that moment, she felt the power to break any prophecy, because there were greater powers in existence than the fates.
Slowly, he pulled away from her.
Reluctantly, she let him go. “Why now?” she questioned. “Why wait until now?”
He stroked a strand of her long hair back from her face. “Because there is no telling what might happen tomorrow.”
Gazing up into his eyes, she wanted to give up her title, and her duty. She wanted to run away with him and let everything else fall apart.
Yet, she could not. There were others depending on her. While there was a time for love, now was not that time.
The time had come for war.
Anna’s horse ambled along beneath her, the rhythmic movement not budging the scowl on her face. They’d spent far too long conversing with Ranna and Therin, and had parted ways after giving the couple far too many supplies. Though, at least the pair might survive now. Being non-magical humans, An Fiach would likely leave them be on their way to Sormyr, where they might find work on a farm.
She lowered her gaze to the loamy ground ahead, seeing no sign of tracks, though she hadn’t expected any. If the Pixies were unable to find Kai, what chance had she? She wasn’t sure why she still pursued her quest, riding farther from the fortress, except that Eywen was still riding that way with her. He would soon veer off on another path to scout for Aos Sí warriors, but she was reluctant to turn back. Once she did, she feared she’d never see him again. The thought stung more than she’d like to admit.
“We should rest the horses,” Eywen said, drawing her out of her thoughts. “Let them graze while we speak of your plans.”
She frowned, suspecting he’d noticed her confidence waning, and would now ask her to turn back.
Without waiting for her reply, he stopped his horse and dismounted.
She followed his example, ready to give her sore backside a break from the saddle. As soon as her boots hit the ground, she stretched her arms over her head, grasping her reins loosely in one hand.
As she lowered her arms, Eywen handed her a crumbly bannock wrapped in parchment, no doubt stolen for them by the Bucca, then led his horse toward a tree where it might graze, loosely anchoring its reins on a sprawling branch.
“I’ll build a fire,” he stated as she tied her horse near his.
She wished she could see his expression, but saw only his broad back as he looked for dry wood . . . not that he was likely to find any. They’d endured intermittent rain throughout their journey, leaving Anna’s clothes in a constant state of damp.
Taking bites of her bannock, she turned her back to him to check over her horse for any signs of physical stress, then wrinkled her nose at the smell of smoke.
As her brain caught up with her nose, she whirled on him. He crouched before a small pile of wood already smoldering with the first hints of flame.
“How did you manage that?” she questioned curiously, approaching him as she plopped the last portion of bannock in her mouth, then stuck the crumbled parchment in her breeches pocket.
He leveled his deep blue eyes up at her, a small smile on his pale lips. “I may not have much magic of my own, but I am not without my tricks.”
At the mention of magic she sighed, then plopped down beside him, lifting her palms to warm them by the burgeoning fire. “Tell me about these tricks.”
Settling in on the ground more comfortably now that the fire was surviving on its own, he inclined his head toward her. “You truly want to know?”
She nodded, unable to quiet her curiosity.
“You know that the Aos Sí who have pledged themselves to Oighear survive off her power,” he began, telling her something she did in fact know, but still didn’t fully comprehend. “We Faie are beings of magic, and we need magic to sustain us,” he added, seeming to sense her hesitation.
“The lesser Faie,” he continued, “can survive off the magic of the earth, to a degree, but the Aos Sí are not connected to the earth in such a manner. We are immortal soldiers, always connected to a queen. When my queen was Oighear, I had the minor magic to survive the cold, in addition to my natural physical abilities.”
She nodded for him to go on, thoroughly intrigued.
He smiled at her. “Now that I have named Finnur as my queen, my abilities have changed. While Oighear is the cold and darkness, Finnur is the warmth and light. She is the seed growing in the soil. Hence,” he gestured to the fire.
She tilted her head, actually beginning to understand. “So you now have powers of life and warmth instead of cold,” she said with a nod, “but there’s one thing I still don’t understand.”
He nodded for her to go on.
“Where do mages get their power?” she asked, leaving her true question unspoken. What she really wanted to know was where did she get her magic?
“Excellent question,” he complimented. “As far as I’ve been led to understand, most mages siphon their power from the energy of the elements. That’s why most tend to express their magic as fire, ice, wind, and so on. Since Finnur’s return, magic has flown more freely. The mages seem to have grown in strength, though minor magic was accessible to some while she was gone.”
She nodded, a frown creasing her brow. That still explained nothing of why her magic had increased since her experience with the Travelers.
“Now your magic,” Eywen began, “is more of a mystery. It is the magic of the in-between, and is not related to this land. I imagine somewhere far back in your bloodline is an ancestor not quite human, providing you with this link.”
She raised a brow at him. “Are you proposing that one of my ancestors was Faie?”
He shrugged. “Perhaps, or perhaps something else. The Dair and the Ceàrdaman are magical races, but are not quite Faie.”
She stared at the fire in thought, barely noticing that her clothes had finally begun to dry. She highly doubted she had any relation to the Dair, but the Travelers? They had sensed her magic long before she even knew it existed. Could they have known even more about her lineage than they’d let on?
“I apologize if that’s not what you wanted to hear,” he muttered.
She startled, realizing she’d been scowling. “No,” she smiled, “it’s alright. At least I have some vague idea now of why this has happened to me.”
He returned her smile.
Suddenly she found herself gazing into his sapphire eyes, only then realizing how close they were seated to one another.
To her utter surprise, he leaned forward and kissed her. To her greater surprise, she did not pull away.
A mighty torrent of thoughts collided in her mind. Her tragic past, her many years spent alone, her fading fear of the Faie. They all halted when she realized she was kissing an immortal Faie warrior, and s
he was enjoying it.
She pulled away abruptly, shakily climbed to her feet, and ran.
Not looking back, she fled past their horses and into the trees, heedless of any dangers that might be lurking. Her thoughts were too loud to perceive if he followed. Had he really just kissed her? Her lips burned, and her stomach was all twisted in knots. Her skin felt like it was on fire. She hadn’t felt like this in years. She hadn’t allowed herself to feel like this in years. She staggered to a stop and fell to her knees on the slippery leaves, breathless.
Footsteps sounded behind her. She would have turned to face him, but didn’t want him to see the tears now streaming down her face.
“Anna,” Eywen began, his voice hesitant. “If I overstepped, I apologize.”
“It’s nothing,” she snapped, wiping at her eyes. Please, go away, she thought, but couldn’t bring herself to say it. Part of her wanted him to stay.
“Anna,” he began again, his voice soft. “Why are you crying?”
Curse him, did he have to be so perceptive? She turned to look up at him, wiping at the last of her tears. “I wasn’t crying,” she argued, though she knew there was really no denying it.
He took a step toward her, his gaze wary. Once, she would have found his unearthly blue eyes strange, but not anymore. Nothing about him seemed strange to her anymore, except for the way he made her feel.
“I haven’t—” she cut herself off, turning her gaze back down to her lap. Was she really going to tell him this? She’d never even told Kai. She took a shaky breath. “I was betrayed, long ago,” she explained, her voice barely above a whisper. “He was the only man that was ever truly dear to me, though I suppose he was more of a boy. We were both seventeen.”
Why was she telling him this? Her face was flush with embarrassment. She should just end whatever was going on between them, here and now.
“He broke your heart,” Eywen observed, stepping closer.
She nodded, fighting back her tears once again. “More than that. He sacrificed me, or, at least he tried to.”
Eywen sat beside her in the damp dead leaves, his hand alighting on her shoulder.
She flicked her gaze to his long, pale fingers, fingers that had slain countless foes, yet comforted her so gently. Closing her eyes, she began the story she’d never planned on beginning again.
“I grew up in an orphanage in the Gray City,” she admitted.
“Orphanage?” he questioned.
She began to feel insulted, then opened her eyes to see his confused expression. She sighed. “It’s a place where unwanted children go. Those without parents to claim them.”
He nodded his comprehension. “Please, go on.”
She licked her dry lips. “When I was old enough to fend for myself, I turned to thievery. It was the only way to survive in the city when you grow up like I did. I was good at it too. I was able to survive when others were not.” She closed her eyes, giving in to the images of her past.
“What of the other children in the orphanage?” he asked.
She shrugged like it didn’t matter, but really, it did. “Some of the girls were lucky enough to marry, and some of the boys found crews to sail with, or farms to work on, but many others didn’t make it that far. I had no desire to marry a farmer, but could find no other work. That’s when I met Yaric.”
With a shuddering breath, she hunched her back, wishing she could curl up into a little ball until the painful memories left her.
Eywen’s hand dropped from her shoulder, granting her space to collect herself.
She inhaled sharply. She’d come this far, she might as well finish the tale. “Yaric did not grow up unwanted, as I had, but his family lived in servitude to the Gray City. Many end up with great debts just to survive, then work their entire lives in an attempt to pay them off. Not wanting to be saddled with his family’s debts, Yaric abandoned them. I should have known that he would show me the same loyalty, but I was young and idealistic. I thought he loved me.”
She glanced at Eywen, wondering if he was bored, then quickly looked away, uncomfortable with the rapt attention he was paying her.
“Though I had already started stealing on my own, Yaric taught me better ways to apply my skills. Instead of stealing bread for my next meal, I began stealing jewelry and other baubles. Yaric knew a merchant willing to buy such things without asking questions.”
Absorbed in her recollection, she leaned against Eywen’s shoulder.
“Eventually I learned that Yaric was working for a notorious thieving ring. I knew they were dangerous, but he assured me he’d keep me safe. I believed him.” Memories flashed through her mind, one in particular. Yaric’s face watching impassively as his employer beat her within an inch of her life. He’d carried her outside, leaving her for the Gray Guard to find, her pockets filled with stolen jewelry.
“Yaric’s employer was under investigation from the Guard,” she sighed. “Too much had been stolen, and someone had to hang. Yaric sacrificed me to that cause. I was beaten, and left to be punished for the crimes.”
“How did you survive?” Eywen asked softly.
She looked up at the cloudy sky. It would be dark soon, not a good time to be sitting far away from their horses with no fire near them, but she’d started her story, now she might as well finish it.
“By luck alone,” she admitted. “The guards found me at sunrise and arrested me. I told them what happened, and begged them to let me go. I would have hanged were it not for an older guard taking pity on me. He thought I looked like his daughter. He let me go the day before I was to die. I fled the city. Too many of the guards knew my face.”
“What happened to Yaric?” he asked.
She shrugged. She’d always wished she’d gone back to kill him. Even if it meant she’d die too.
“I heard he hanged less than a year later,” she sighed.
“Good,” Eywen muttered.
She turned to him, surprised.
Eywen eyed her steadily. “If he were still alive, I would find him and separate his head from his body.”
She laughed, bringing her tears forth as she rested her head on his shoulder. “I do not need you to defend me.”
“I know,” he said simply, “but I will do it anyway.”
Somehow, that comforted her. She might be in a strange place, with her head leaning on the shoulder of one of the Faie, but she suddenly felt lighter and happier than she had in years.
“I’m sure these horses are theirs,” Bedelia argued, sitting atop her own halted mount as she observed those tethered to a tree.
“What does it matter, lass?” Àed grumbled. “We’re losin’ daylight.”
Bedelia frowned. While she wanted to reach Garenoch as soon as possible, she knew the two horses belonged to Anna and Eywen. They might not yet be aware of the human army marching toward the burgh, and she felt it her duty to tell them.
She turned toward the sound of voices, proving she’d been right about the horses. Anna and Eywen appeared from within the trees, walking companionably side by side. Anna’s face seemed puffy, like she’d been crying, though she seemed in good cheer now.
Bedelia lifted a hand in greeting.
Anna stopped dead in her tracks upon spotting her, but Eywen seemed unfazed, as if he’d already known she and Àed were there. He lifted his hand to return her greeting.
“Ye must have been takin’ yer time for us to catch ye,” Àed taunted.
Anna glared at him as she reached her horse. “We were detained, if you must know, by a human couple bearing news of affairs in Garenoch.”
Bedelia perked up at the mention of the burgh. “What news? Is everything alright?”
“Yes,” Anna answered, “except that Ealasaid is amassing an army of mages. The couple we met were afraid to remain within the burgh, afraid enough to brave the wilds on their own. Is that where you’re headed? I can’t imagine any other reason for the two of you to be out here.”
Bedelia bit her lip, wondering
if answering yes would bring on more questions, but Àed made the decision for her. “Yes,” he growled, “though that shouldnae be of concern to ye. I take it ye’ve seen no sign of Kai.”
Anna’s expression darkened. Instead of answering, she tugged her reins from the tree and vaulted up into her horse’s saddle.
Eywen climbed into his saddle without a word.
Observing Anna, Bedelia thought it best not to question them further.
“Well,” Àed announced in the somewhat uncomfortable silence, “we best get movin’.”
Bedelia nodded her agreement. While she was anxious to reach Garenoch to confront Keiren, she wouldn’t mind extra company for a time, if only to grant her a reprieve from Àed’s gruff behavior.
“Will the two of you be heading to Garenoch as well?” she questioned. “Perhaps that is where Kai has ended up.” She secretly hoped it was. The more allies present when she faced Keiren, the better. Not to mention she wouldn’t mind speaking with someone else suffering from an infective Faie bite. She suspected her wolf bite was different from the injuries he’d sustained, but there might be some thread in common that could save them both.
Anna shrugged off her question, a scowl on her face. Perhaps she wouldn’t be an improvement to Àed after all.
“I must continue northeast,” Eywen answered when Anna did not, “though Garenoch may be a good place for Anna to take respite.”
Bedelia didn’t miss the sharp look Anna darted his way. She wondered what it might be about, though Anna would likely never tell her.
To her dismay, they continued on in silence after that. She missed Finn and Iseult, two friends who actually seemed to value her presence, and who had both understood just why she had needed to leave.
She hoped she would survive her meeting with Keiren to see them again.
Iseult sat staring at the fire, with the quiet, dark woods at his back. He couldn’t help occasional glances at Finn, though she seemed to be resting soundly, with her unicorn grazing only a few paces away. Without meaning to, he found his eyes scanning up and down Finn’s bundled form. He’d meant every word he’d said to her. He would gladly let the world burn if it meant she would be safe. Unfortunately, the world was already burning, and they were riding straight toward danger. That was a thought for another day, though. He’d deal with what they found in Garenoch when the time came.
The Oaken Throne Page 12
