by Meg Anne
Helena laughed and peppered kisses over his face. She lifted herself up slightly until she was resting her weight on his chest and looking down at him. Her fingers traced over his eyebrow and nose before moving down to his lips. He caught them in his teeth, biting down gently.
“I miss you,” she whispered brokenly.
He released her fingers with a gentle kiss before replying, “Not nearly as much as I miss you, Mate.” His gray eyes met hers solemnly and in their shared silence, she could feel all that he had endured since they had parted, knowing he was experiencing the same. They were wholly connected, hearts and minds completely in sync despite the time they had spent apart.
“I’m sorry—” she started, her voice thick with emotion, but he placed a finger against her lips and shook his head.
“You never need to apologize to me. Not for that. It was I who had wronged you, my love. More than that, I had many opportunities to come clean about what had happened—”
Now it was she who cut him off, “No, Von, please don’t. It was Gillian’s fault. She’s the one who bewitched you. Without her trickery, you never would have done anything to apologize for in the first place.”
Von gave her a lopsided smile, moving to place a curl behind her ear, “You have a kind heart, Helena, but I am not blameless here. Her magic ensnared me, yes, but it was not as if I was without memory of the incident. It was my pride that kept me from telling you what I had done. When you spoke of your trial and what you had witnessed, that was a warning for both of us. I should have told you then, but it was easier to let myself believe you’d never find out...” he trailed off.
There was a longer silence, their eyes saying what they could not. Helena kissed him, a sign of her forgiveness and love. With that kiss, another broken part of him settled back into place.
She pulled back, swirling aqua eyes meeting his as she declared fiercely, “I am coming for you. I will find you.”
“I know you will, my love. I will be ready,” he promised as he kissed her again, and pulled her back into his arms.
Helena settled against his chest, listening to the familiar thump of his heart. She smiled and pressed her lips against his skin, right over his heart. Their hearts were still beating in time, as they had been since speaking the words that bonded them to one another. It was a small detail but it brought great comfort. No matter the physical distance between them, they would always be one. She closed her eyes, still smiling softly. Eventually, they both began breathing deeply, lost once again to their individual dreams.
Helena woke up smiling. Despite the chaos that had ensued earlier that day she was more at peace than she had been in months. She no longer felt any pain from her power’s earlier outburst, which was a welcome and pleasant surprise. She shifted slightly, disrupting the soft furs that were wrapped around her. While there was no pain, her body did ache, but in a familiar and enjoyable way.
“Von,” she whispered in hushed awe, pressing her fingers to her lips which felt swollen and slightly bruised. It may have been a dream, but in her heart, she knew it had been real.
“Mate,” came the faint but fierce reply.
Helena’s closed her eyes as her shoulders began to shake, a lone tear snaking its way down her cheek. She’d done it. When she had connected with him and removed those stains, she must have gotten rid of whatever had prevented them from reaching each other through the bond. It was still a strain, neither of them at full strength, but it was a start. At the very least they should be able to communicate and that was enough, for now.
In the quiet darkness of her tent, Helena began whispering words of thanks over and over, “Mother if you are listening, thank you.”
Chapter Twelve
Miranda had been right. The morning after her little tantrum, as Ronan had started referring to it, the Keepers sent word that they were on their way. That was it. Keepers were notoriously cryptic, so no one was surprised that they had not provided an estimated date for their arrival. Helena snorted derisively and rolled her eyes when Timmins relayed the message, but secretly, she was relieved not to be traveling for a while. Her body had yet to fully recover from the power-storm even days later.
Helena wasn’t the only one still feeling lingering effects from the storm. While the sight of the damage she had caused left her wincing with remorse each time she witnessed it, her friends looked at her in much the same way. She couldn’t blame them; her body had been slow to recover. Each one of her companions had taken it upon themselves to care for her and as such, she’d had an almost constant parade of visitors. This morning, Effie had arrived with an apple for her to snack on, and then Miranda strode in no more than two minutes later with a soft blanket for Helena to wrap herself in. Less than five minutes after that, Kragen appeared and made a snarky comment about how terrible Helena looked and forced everyone out so that she could rest. On and on it went, each of her friends trying, in the ways they best knew how, to ensure she got well. It was sweet of them, really, but Helena was starting to wish they would just leave her alone.
If it weren’t for the worry that burned brightly in each of their eyes when they looked at her, Helena would have ordered them away by now. Instead, with each demand, she merely bit her tongue and relented. She was fortunate to be surrounded by those that loved her. There were many others that could not say the same.
As they had every few moments since she woke up, her thoughts spun back to Von. Helena sent an idle caress along their bond; it was a gesture so filled with tenderness it was as though she had run her fingers through his hair while he slept. There was no answer, nor had she expected one, but she could feel his steady presence at the other end. The feel of him within her was enough to keep her satisfied. From what she had experienced when joined with him, his mind and body had been in a condition similar to the one she was currently in: utterly battered. Unfortunately for her Mate, he did not have the benefit of well-meaning friends to care for him. Rather, Von was at the mercy of the enemies that surrounded him.
The thought of Gillian and that blonde woman had Helena’s lip lifting in an unconscious snarl. She knew without having to be told that the woman with emotionless blue eyes was the one Effie referred to as the Corruptor. She had felt the perversion of magic when the woman struck out at Gillian.
The memory caused Helena to shudder with revulsion. What she had felt while in Von’s body was nothing like the warmth she associated with her own power. Her magic felt familiar, almost like she was greeting an old friend or beloved pet when she called it to her. In comparison, the wrongness of the other woman’s magic had grated against her senses like razor sharp nails sliding along glass.
All that she had learned from Joquil about the rare Spirit magic indicated that the wielder must employ restraint at all times. Helena had her own handful of mortifying reminders of what could happen when overwhelmed by emotion to help reinforce that particular lesson. Spirit magic took many forms, as did every branch of the Mother’s power. However, it was the only branch that had the potential to control someone completely. In its basest form, it was the ability to influence another with your will and when used, it should be a mere coaxing, not a full-on assault.
As the ultimate representation of the Mother’s own power, Spirit magic was revered. It was why those that had the ability to weld it became Kiri, or Damaskiri if they did not pass their trial. In either case, they were the Mother’s representatives amongst the Chosen. To twist such a sacred gift... it was utter blasphemy and beyond reprehensible.
Helena’s eyes were beginning to burn with iridescence when she heard a tentative scratching at the entrance to her tent. Serena peered around the flap and raised her eyebrow in silent question when she saw Helena’s furious expression. Helena forced herself to shake off the rage that had started to swell within her and focus on the woman before her. “Yes?” she asked, her voice sounding mostly calm.
“They have arrived, Kiri,” Serena replied formally.
The use of her titl
e was a code. Helena had come to realize that her Circle and those closest to her would use it as a sign of caution when surrounded by potential enemies. That Serena did so now while referring to the Keepers gave her a moment of pause, Weren’t these people coming to help them?
Helena nodded, to indicate that the warning had been received, and pushed herself out of her chair. The blanket Miranda had brought her earlier fell to the floor. Helena eyed it for a moment before deciding it wasn’t worth the effort. As it was, it was a struggle just to keep her legs from buckling as she took slow, measured steps toward the tent’s opening.
Serena reached out to offer her support, but Helena shook her head. She already knew that she looked awful, but no one else needed to see that her weakness was more than skin deep. Her power flowed into her at the thought, a gentle reminder to never refer to herself as weak. The flood of magic helped calm her quaking limbs, and when she left the tent, she did so gracefully. More importantly, she did it on her own.
The light that filtered through the trees was a weak and watery green. The effect of it was startling. Each of her friends looked more than a little sick. Helena would have laughed at the thought, except that their expressions were all schooled into hard lines. That alone was enough to stay her reaction, but it was the sight of Effie’s sweet face completely devoid of her usual smile, that had Helena faltering slightly. Even Miranda, who was a Keeper herself, was facing the three hooded figures solemnly.
Helena could not make out any facial features under the blood-red hoods. They were each tall and slender, standing shoulder to shoulder, as they faced her friends. The Circle was more scattered, effectively providing a thick barrier between Helena and the Keepers. Ronan and Kragen were standing the closest, each of their thickly muscled arms crossed over their chests. Ronan was scowling, but Kragen was expressionless. Behind them, and slightly to the left, Darrin stood with his hands at his sides, his twitching fingers the only sign of his unease. Effie was at his side, her own small hand moving to curl around his and stop the outward sign of distress. Helena was thankful for her small gesture of support, as she continued to take in the scene in front of her.
Joquil was to the far right of the clearing, his body leaning casually against a tree. Micha was at his side mirroring the posture. Timmins was beside Miranda, standing at the far left of the group, his brows lowered in displeasure. Nial was in the back, Serena having moved to stand next to him after leaving Helena’s tent.
It was an odd sight, certainly less welcoming than she had expected, given Miranda’s association with the group. Schooling her features to conceal the thoughts that were whirling through her mind, Helena made her way to the front. Kragen and Ronan shifted to make a space for her between them. The not-so-subtle drop of their hands to rest beside the hilts of their axes had her lips lifting in a bemused smile.
Before Helena could settle upon the appropriate greeting the Keepers swept into low bows, the ruby-red fabric of their cloaks brushing the dirt floor.
“Kiri,” they rumbled in unison, their voices echoing spectrally in her mind. Helena stiffened at the sound. This was the first time she had heard a voice in her head that wasn’t Von’s and she wasn’t sure how to feel about it. The shifting of her friends underscored their own disquiet.
Helena weighed the option of bowing in return but Miranda caught her attention, the older woman having stepped forward to stand beside her. She cut her chin to the side, a discrete but emphatic no. It looked like she would not be returning their bow after all.
“Keepers,” Helena said with more bravado than she was feeling, “thank you for joining us.”
The figure in the center moved forward. Long skeletal fingers appeared from the bottom of its sleeves to lift the hood back to reveal its face. There was a startled gasp behind her, but it was the only sound in the entirety of the clearing. Even the animals had decided to make themselves scarce for this particular meeting.
Helena couldn’t blame them. The Keepers were terrifying. There was no other word for the beings that stood before her. The other two followed the lead of the first and removed their hoods. She swallowed thickly, silently wishing they would put them back on.
Their faces were gaunt, hairless, and a white so pale, she could make out the pulsing of purple veins beneath the thin skin. Their eyes were pits of black and their mouths were stitched shut, thick black cords woven in a crisscrossing pattern along the length of them. The only distinguishing marks between them were the swirling tattoos that covered almost every visible inch of skin. The markings were a deep navy blue, but as Helena stared at them, they seemed to shift and move in a serpentine fashion.
Without conscious thought, Helena decided the only way to get through this encounter was to brazen it out. “It would seem that Miranda got the looks in the family.”
Behind her Kragen and Ronan snickered with appreciation, while she saw Timmins close his eyes in dismay. Miranda’s own lips curled in an approving smile.
“Kiri, may I introduce you to the Triumvirate,” she said by way of introduction. “These are the oldest of the Keepers, those who have sworn their loyalty to the realm and have shaken off all vestiges of their past lives in order to lead and offer guidance without any of the bias of mortality.”
“One could argue that it is mortality that allows for the most valuable of guidance,” Helena murmured.
“Our Kiri is wise,” the voices hissed in her mind. It was hard to discern any type of emotion, but Helena could have sworn she sensed amusement.
“You will have to forgive my ignorance,” Helena replied, “I had not realized the head of the Keepers would be gracing us with their presence.”
“Nor had I, Kiri, or I would have better prepared you,” Miranda said drolly. There was a hint of censure in her voice, as though she was not pleased by the appearance of the Triumvirate.
The figure in the center tilted his head to the side as though examining her. “Perhaps it is us who should ask your forgiveness. We were merely curious to see whom the Vessel would be, after carrying the prophecy for so many years. We could not miss an opportunity to meet the woman who is responsible for the fate of the Chosen.”
“No pressure,” Ronan muttered.
Helena raised an eyebrow in response, “I hope that I have not disappointed you after such a long wait.”
“You are more than we allowed ourselves to hope for,” the voices echoed.
Helena shivered at their response, not feeling overly comforted despite the words.
“Seeing as we are all aware of the prophecy, how is it you think to help us?” Timmins asked. It was the most outright disrespectful she had ever heard her Advisor and Helena turned toward him in surprise.
The Keepers’ faces turned toward him in unison. “You know of the Mother of Shadows, of what will befall the Chosen if the Vessel becomes corrupted, but you know nothing of the Corruptor. Nor what it will take to defeat her. We merely offer information… and a choice.”
“A choice?” Helena repeated, her eyes snapping to the central figure.
There was a slight dip of its head, “There is always a choice, Kiri.”
“Convenient,” she bit out, her stomach twisting inside of her.
“Our words will be for you alone, Kiri, if you wish to hear them.”
Helena swallowed back her fear and stepped toward them, “Very well.” As she spoke, all three lifted their hands toward her.
“Helena!” Darrin cried out in warning.
“Kiri!” the others’ voices echoed, the whistle of blades being drawn sounding behind her.
The black pits where their eyes used to be began to glow scarlet. Helena could not look away, drawn to what she saw within the fiery depths. As one, the Triumvirate touched her. Helena heard someone scream and had the distant thought that it might be her. There wasn’t enough time for her to consider the notion further because she was already falling.
Chapter Thirteen
Von was stretched out on the bed, bonds
firmly back in place. His eyes were closed, feigning sleep. He didn’t want to let on that the effects of the drug had already worn off. It was a game he’d been playing since that little red-haired bitch dosed him again. Every day since he’d broken free she had been force feeding him healing brews liberally dosed with a sedative that knocked him back into unconsciousness almost immediately.
Once he finally came to he would pretend to be asleep, while Gillian and the blonde one plotted and schemed in hushed whispers over his bed. The women were careful never to reveal any specifics, but Von knew that eventually, they would divulge something useful. Until then, he would bide his time gathering strength and seemingly inconsequential information. One never knew what could be important later on, and he had every intention of paying their hospitality back in kind.
The warrior in him began to assess his enemy’s strategy. What reason would they have to keep me docile but not completely out of commission? The answer came to Von almost instantly; the demented bitches wanted to make Von one of their puppets. For him to have the most value, he needed to be in peak condition, but they couldn’t risk him fighting back. Thus the drugs. They wanted Von at full-strength and firmly under the blonde’s control, but the only way that would ever happen is if he was unconscious when she made her move. They are biding their time as well, Von mused.
Von let his thoughts continue to wander, knowing the answer he sought was lingering at the fringes of his mind. As a Commander of his own men, he was well-versed with this kind of strategizing: weighing and evaluating an enemy’s strengths and weaknesses, looking to strike when it would have the biggest impact… this was his bread and butter. He was absolutely confident he’d be able to discern their plot, and then do everything in his power to undermine it.
It can’t just be my health they are waiting on, he decided. While it was true that the Bella Morte had delayed their plans considerably, keeping his mind trapped in the misty place while sapping his body of strength, there had to be at least one other piece out of place. When the answer came this time, it was like a gentle caress: Helena. They were waiting for Helena.
