by Lisa Rector
Jumping into action, my light flew into Kelyn, surging around the arrow. The head had lodged into the left lower chamber of his heart. Every beat caused more blood to leak from the chamber and tear the hole larger. Once removed, Kelyn would bleed to death in seconds. As he was, he had minutes.
“I can heal him as I move the arrow a fraction at a time.”
As I pulled up on the arrow, blood flooded the space. I patched micro tears and forced the blood back into the chamber. Minutes became hours. I fought against the damage to Kelyn’s heart as I ignored mine.
Not dead. Alive.
Kelyn is alive.
I might be dead, but he will live. I imbued my soul with these words as I worked; all the while Kelyn remained unconscious.
Somehow I finished. Somehow the men helped Kelyn and me onto Seren. Somehow I held him until we arrived at the palace courtyard.
I recalled Kelyn’s being torn from my arms as if a piece of my soul went with him.
Kenrik met us. Yes, I last saw his terrified brown eyes before I slid into his arms, spent.
The darkness around my heart welcomed me into nightmare.
Chapter Fourteen
I thrashed, twisting in a ribbon of cloth. It constricted around my chest, my legs, my arms. I couldn’t free myself no matter which way I turned.
“She’ll injure herself. We should restrain her.”
“Leave her be. I’ll watch her.”
I hissed. I groaned. I’ve doomed my soul. Deian, save me. I’m not a killer. Please forgive me!
I bolted upright. “I killed them all! They’re all dead because of me!”
“Niawen!”
Pressure on my shoulders. A warm breath in my face.
“Niawen,” a man said.
Light grew behind my eyelids, and I opened them. A maid held a candle in my face, and Kenrik gripped my shoulders. His pupils swirled with the reflection of light. The brown of his eyes was almost gone in the dim room, but the circles of his irises were pronounced.
Eyes huge with worry.
“It’s all right. You’re safe. Those men deserved to die. You stopped them. You saved Kelyn’s life.”
“Kelyn. Kelyn?”
“Yes. Do not fret.”
I ripped at the sheet, frustrated my legs were trapped.
“You should stay abed,” Kenrik said. “You need rest.”
“I do not need rest. I need redemption.” I rolled to the other side of the mattress, tumbling off the side and to the floor. As I scuffled with the infernal fabric, Kenrik raced around the bed to me.
I leapt to my feet and ran past him, shoving the door so roughly it slammed against the wall.
I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe.
Steady, Niawen. Seren pushed her calm into me.
It didn’t help.
Kenrik followed, yelling after me. “Where are you going?”
I rounded a corner. Realizing I took an incorrect turn in the maze of palace corridors, I backtracked—
Right into Kenrik’s arms.
“I need air. I need air.” My breaths were too shallow, too rapid.
He eased me against the wall, with his arms caging me.
I pushed at his chest. “Let me go, Kenrik.”
He didn’t budge.
“Please.” Defiant and rigid, I turned away from his intense gaze.
“Look at me, Niawen. Take deep breaths. Here.” He placed my hand on his chest. “Breathe as I do. Steady. Deep. One at a time.”
I stared into his eyes as he stared into mine, not reading into his soul, but studying the depth of color in the light of the hall’s sconces. His chest rose up and down beneath my palm. The warmth in his hand lent me strength as it had the day I healed Sorfrona. I paced my breaths with Kenrik’s.
His eyes never left my face. “There. Do you feel levelheaded?”
I shook my head.
“I’ll help you through this.”
My eyes filled with tears. “You can’t possibly know what I’m going through.”
Kenrik spoke with every kindness. “Don’t think I couldn’t possibly understand you. I do. We all go through similar distress after first taking a life.”
“You’ve taken a life?”
“Yes. I’ve been in minor skirmishes. And regrettably a few men have died at my hands. I was sick. Lost everything in my stomach. It’s not a horror I’ll ever forget.”
“Did they tell you what happened? What I did?”
“Seren did.”
“You spoke to Seren?”
Yes, he did. Everything is all right.
“No one else has returned yet. They’re more than a week out. Remember? And Kelyn is asleep. Seren says he couldn’t tell me anyway. He was unconscious.”
I chewed my lip. “I was scared. I thought Kelyn was dead. The ruffians—they murdered so many people.”
You saved the village. You saved Kelyn, Seren said.
“I know their deaths don’t feel right, even if they were bad men, but you should feel justified in taking their lives.”
“I thought that at the time. I passed judgment on them. But I don’t think that’s how the Creator would do it.”
“We can’t judge as he does, but sometimes we must act to save innocent lives.” He lifted my chin because my eyes had drifted to his chest. I was embarrassed and felt weak.
Ashamed.
“You acted out of fear,” he said. “Out of a desire to protect.”
“No. I was angry. I wanted them to die for hurting Kelyn.”
I imagined my father hammering words into my head. You’ll bring ruin down on all of us. You’ll bring death to the dragon realm.
Your father is mistaken, Seren said.
But look what I’ve done.
“I’ve corrupted my light. I’ve damaged my heart-center.” Kenrik wouldn’t understand. “There’s a stain. It’s marred. I was told I’d become corrupted if I entered the mortal realms. I was told this would happen.”
“That you’d kill people?”
“Not that exactly.”
You couldn’t have foreseen this. Your intentions were noble.
“How is the mortal realm at fault for your corruption? And you’re not corrupted, Niawen. You’re pure and innocent.”
“I’m not innocent. You can’t see what’s happened to my light.”
“Don’t believe some rubbish someone has told you as a fairytale to frighten you away.”
“It’s not rubbish. There’s darkness here. There’s evil in men’s hearts.”
“Am I evil, Niawen?”
“No,” I mumbled.
“Then what is it? Are we mortals too finite for you? You think because you’re an emrys, with the Creator’s grace bestowed upon you, you have farther to fall? That you have to be a great martyr? This one act doesn’t define you.”
I gasped. “How could you know what I think?”
“We all fall the same distance. Can’t you see? You have the same flesh and blood I do.” He lifted my arm and traced the vein in my wrist with a confident finger. “You bleed as I do. You breathe as I do. You sin just as I do. The Creator made me just as he made you.”
He’s right, Seren said.
I took a deep breath, acknowledging Seren’s words. She trusted Kenrik—a big step for her. “That’s it. I’ve sinned. How do I earn forgiveness?”
“Is this a new concept for you?”
“Yes.”
Kenrik snickered, and I hated him for just a heartbeat. “Oh, Niawen. In some ways you are very naïve. What’s the world you’re from like? Emrys don’t make mistakes?”
“This is not funny. We make mistakes. Just not on a scale this grand.”
The seriousness in Kenrik grew, matching his solemn deep-set eyes. “No. It’s not funny, is it? Forgiveness is a demanding journey, but not an impossible one.”
“So I’m not doomed?”
“Doomed? No. You’re not. You act just as human as the rest of us.”
“Human?” Th
is was a human thing.
“Yep, human.” He grinned. “Does that bother you?”
I was relieved that even a race such as the humans could partake in Deian’s grace. As the stubborn emrys I was, I’d have to learn to humble myself. Maybe living with the flawed humans, and even being flawed, wouldn’t be so bad. Kenrik thrived. “I can live with it.”
He backed up a step, finally willing to free me. “Very well then. Would you like to see Kelyn? I’m sure he’ll be waking soon. He should set your mind at ease.”
“Yes. Thank you, Kenrik.” My stomach flipped. I wasn’t sure how to be at ease, but having Kenrik know this much about me gave me an ally in my grief.
***
“Kelyn.” I rushed into his room. He was sitting in an armchair, perfectly fine. His cheeks had color. I expected him to be pale. To be near death.
I stumbled to his side and threw my arms around his neck, forgetting my embarrassment as tears fell.
His arms circled me, and he rubbed my back. “I feel remarkably well. I’ve been pondering if this was how Mother felt after you recovered her.”
I pulled away and sniffled, fully aware I was a mess.
“My sweet Niawen. I am well.” He laughed. Kelyn was so collected. Even his hair was as unruffled as his demeanor. “When we met, I must have looked as disheveled as you do now.” He smoothed my hair back and held my face in his hands for longer than I was comfortable with.
“You were seconds from death, Kelyn. Seconds. I was so afraid.”
The echo of he’s mortal, he’s mortal rang through my head.
“I don’t plan on dying anytime soon.”
He will die, eventually, my brain said.
I stood and backed away, morosely noticing the heat leave my cheeks as his hands broke contact. “I need air. Forgive me.”
I raced from the room.
Chapter Fifteen
Freezing rain pounded the glass rooftop as I entered a conservatory on the palace’s south side. Brenin’s chattering had drawn me. Kenrik replied to his cousin’s questions, but his mind was elsewhere. He was far away, and his eyes stared blankly at the tile floor.
Good, a distraction from my own head.
“There you are. So this is where you and Brenin hide on an icy day,” I said.
Kenrik sat on a stone bench surrounded by a peculiar squatty tree with oval leaves. I didn’t quite know what species the tree was, but it resembled the succulents in the dry regions of Gorlassar.
As Brenin traced patterns in the gravel pathway with a wooden toy horse, he neighed softly. He had a barnyard set out too, with sheep and cow figurines. Someone had carved a barn and a miniature house out of wood for him.
“Niawen.” Kenrik lifted his chin and slid over on the bench. “My apologies. Tiwlip is resting, so I took Brenin off her hands.” He laughed. “Actually Brenin refused to nap or leave my side.”
I sat next to Kenrik. “He’s not your son, but he acts as though you’re his father.”
“Tiwlip’s husband died when Brenin was a babe. It’s been hard on them. I didn’t mean to step into the role. It just sort of happened.” Kenrik sighed. “Don’t get me wrong. I love Brenin.” Kenrik leaned over his thighs with his elbows propped on his knees.
I tucked my knees to my chest and rested my feet on the bench, turning to Kenrik to give him my full attention. “It’s Tiwlip, isn’t it?”
Kenrik regarded me. “How’d you know?”
“I see the way she looks at you.”
“Father wants me to marry her. But, Niawen, you must understand; we practically grew up together. She’s four years my elder. I think of her as my sister.”
I nodded.
Kenrik glanced my way before continuing. “I have dreams. Being the second son of a king, you see, I didn’t expect to become one. I made my own plans—to fall in love, to have an estate in the north with my wife and son. I can picture it. The rugged highlands with my herds of sheep. Wind practically whipping laundry out of my wife’s hands while she hangs it. My young son chasing chickens in the yard and my wife scolding him. I’d teach him to hunt and track. I’d come home at night and lie with my family on a fur rug near the hearth, just holding them. They’d smell like dew and wild flowers. Is that too provincial?”
“Not at all. You can’t picture yourself ruling a kingdom?”
“If I do marry Tiwlip, my rule wouldn’t be for long. Once Brenin was old enough, he’d become king. But the lowlands are not my home. This is my home.”
My shoulders drooped. Home. Gorlassar was my home. Was. “It’s not easy to leave one’s home.”
“Why’d you do it? Why would you leave an immortal paradise?”
Brenin was marching his livestock up Kenrik’s shin. He handed a cow to Kenrik, who mooed and marched the cow over Brenin’s forehead.
“You’re not the only one who can’t marry whoever she wants,” I said.
“You’re in love?”
“Was.” Everything was past tense. “Was in love, I think. I was stupid to believe a relationship with him would work.”
Kenrik’s eyes lit with understanding. “So that’s why you left. What did you do? Confess your feelings, and he didn’t return them?”
“Exactly that.”
“And you ran to us. Should I be flattered?”
“Kenrik, I didn’t know what I’d find in this world. And I’m not seeking love. Just life.”
Brenin dropped his toys, climbed into his cousin’s lap, and pulled on a string around Kenrik’s neck. “Show me the rainbow again.”
Kenrik lifted the string off his neck and over his head. A triangular prism was attached to the end. “I can’t. There’s no sunlight today.”
“I can show you. Hold the prism out.” I brought light into my palm and sent a beam at the prism.
The glass dispersed the pure white light into a ribbon of color. Brenin held his hand up, and the colors shone across his palm.
“You actually are a ray of sunshine on a cloudy day, Niawen,” Kenrik said. “How does your light work?”
“Shine the light here!” Brenin jumped up and angled the prism so the rainbow would shine on his farm. I shifted the beam to comply.
“The Master of Light gave us, the emrys, his light. I hold a portion in my heart-center, or you might say, my spiritual center. It’s supposed to be used to protect the dragons, but light has many other uses. Even though the dragons are safe in Gorlassar, we’ve been taught to be prepared to use it.”
“That’s why you’re a warrior.”
“Don’t remind me.”
“How are you recovering?”
“What do you think?”
“You seem fine, but you’re not. I can tell you’re hiding your distress. I can’t help you if you aren’t honest with me.”
“Kenrik, I feel hollow.”
“Let yourself grieve a little longer. Then we can work on healing. But don’t hide your grief from me. All right?”
“All right.”
“If you’re breaking down, you can come to me, anytime, day or night.”
“Don’t you think that’s a bit much? I wouldn’t dream of imposing on you in such a way.”
He sighed. “Tiwlip has brought Brenin to me in the middle of the night.” Kenrik lowered his voice so Brenin wouldn’t hear. “He cries with nightmares.”
“That’s sweet. She really does rely on you.”
“A bad habit that’s going to be hard to break.”
“You don’t think you could love her? Not even to take care of Brenin?”
Bored with the prism, Brenin wandered over to a window and huffed his breath on the glass. He drew squiggly patterns.
Kenrik scratched a fingernail over the fabric of his breeches, worrying the material. “I don’t know if I can.”
“You probably shouldn’t lead them on much longer.”
“Then I’m a fool. If I tell her now, I’ll have to endure her heartache over the winter. It’s too late for them to return to Hyledd.
And if I delay all winter, then I tear her heart out before she leaves.”
“Tell her sooner rather than later, Kenrik. Keeping the truth makes telling it more difficult in the end. Trust me.”
Kenrik nodded. “Since we are exchanging confidences, Niawen, I’ll tell you something so you can prepare yourself. Given how you’ve been through a recent trauma and how you’ve admitted you’ve been in love, you must know.”
A slight irritation niggled Kenrik, and concern drifted from him.
“What is it? You’re making me stress.”
“He’s going to ask you to marry him.”
I choked on my own saliva and immediately coughed. “Who?”
“Niawen, are you all right?” Kenrik asked.
“Who?” I beat on my chest.
“Kelyn.”
I squeaked. “You can’t be serious. Kelyn won’t ask me to marry him. He can’t. I’m not ready!”
“He’ll wait until you’re ready. Believe me.”
“Kenrik! I can’t marry Kelyn. He wants to marry me because I’m special. He doesn’t love me.”
“He’s the crown prince. He gets everything he wants.”
I sensed an edge to Kenrik’s emotions. Resentment. Jealousy. “And you don’t?”
“Even if I held every rightful, noble, and tender sentiment or longing over Kelyn’s shallow, meaningless ones, Kelyn gets precedence.”
Oh. My mind recalled Kenrik’s words beside Seren. To his touch of hope when I healed Sorfrona. To his faith in my capabilities. To all the meaningful glances during meetings and training.
Kenrik was falling hard for me.
Oh. Oh!
He had declared himself, and I was too blind.
Kenrik squeezed his eyes shut. “Forget I said anything. Tell me more about your light. How does it heal? What else can you do?”
The truth was too much. All of a sudden I wanted nothing to do with humans. I excused myself from Kenrik and strode from the room, without breaking into a run.
Love. Death. Lust.
Attraction.
I didn’t know which one was leaving the greatest mark on my heart-center.
Chapter Sixteen
I was hiding on the highest tower’s rooftop. The stone had glazed over with a thin layer of ice, but I melted it with my light so I wouldn’t slip. I gazed through the gaps in the shoulder-high wall, out over a world covered in dripping icicles—the most stunning natural spectacle I had ever beheld.
