Malcolm groaned as the door closed behind Mara. He moved to the table in Rowan’s chamber and poured himself another large goblet of wine. He was on his first jug of it and already he could feel the intoxicating effect it had on his mortal form.
He heard the sound of footsteps and then the door opened again. Malcolm watched with disdain as Eli walked into the room, moving like a puppet attached to invisible strings. Eli had a sleepy look in his eyes and an even more expressionless face. He placed a plate of food in front of Malcolm and walked away. Malcolm loathed what Mara had done to his warrior, who no longer spoke more than a few words and only survived now to assist him.
Malcolm didn’t know which was worse: life as a mortal or life as a prisoner. He didn’t have to choose because now, he was unbearably both.
The thought of killing himself had crossed his mind. But now, because of Mara, he was forever trapped in this way. How would he ever tolerate it?
In the days since she took his Light, he’d spent a considerable amount of time thinking about the choices that brought him to this place. For a brief moment, he may have even felt a touch of remorse for his actions. Perhaps Mara was right. If he hadn’t been so selfish and so weak, he might have avoided this fate, but he quickly dismissed the notion. He was not weak. He was betrayed by those who should have loved him.
Even his Revenant mother hadn’t been back to see him since their first encounter. Malcolm had taken considerable pains to conceal the knowledge of her from Mara. He made certain not to think about her while Mara and the others were near, and he tried his best to scatter his thoughts so that he appeared to be going insane.
Clearly his efforts paid off because it seemed Mara didn’t suspect a thing. How would a weak person fool a Dia? Especially a weak mortal? No. He wasn’t weak at all. She was simply foolish and intoxicated by her new power. She was a fool. He knew she wouldn’t be able to withstand the lure of darkness for as many years as she had to live. He would wait until the time when she would seek him out, because he was the only being alive who would know what she was going through.
Malcolm mulled these things over while he pushed around the unpalatable food on his plate. Suddenly, he felt a breeze blow past and a white mist appeared before him. He watched it without fear. He already knew what it was. And when the form became visible, he glared at the white woman who called herself his mother. “How is it that I can still see you?” he asked dryly.
“I told you,” she said. “We are blood. Not even your mortal eyes would prevent you from seeing me.”
Malcolm looked down to his plate. “And where have you been all this time?”
“I watched from a distance. I will have to leave you soon and return when the others have left. I don’t want them to sense my presence.”
“I see,” Malcolm said. “So what now? Will you be my companion for the next millennium?”
Daria looked hurt. She moved closer to him with a frown on her ethereal face. “You are so much like your father. His arrogance was his destruction, and it was yours as well.”
“Wonderful,” Malcolm said.
“But unlike your father, you are still here, my son. Don’t forget that. You may have another chance.”
Malcolm looked at her skeptically. “And what shall I do? I am mortal, I have no power, and I am trapped by that bitch’s spell. I can’t leave this place.”
Daria smiled. “That’s not entirely true, Malcolm.”
“Then how?” he asked, feeling the irritation rising within him.
“As Dia, we tend to inherit the traits of our parents. You were a strong Cian, like your father, and I can see you are also a fool like him.”
“Get on with it, mother,” he said. “What are you trying to say?”
Daria looked at him. “What I am saying, my stubborn child, is that you have also inherited the gifts of your mother. You are also a Revenant, so you can leave your body if you wish.”
Malcolm’s face reddened with anger. “I can’t do that because she took my Light, or have you forgotten that?”
Daria shook her head. “You misunderstand what I am saying. Just because you don’t have any physical power, does not mean you don’t still have the spirit of a Dia. You can remove yourself from your body as I have, and you will be free of this place.”
“And how will I do that?” he asked.
“I will teach you,” she said.
“So I will wander in spirit?”
“Yes. But you can choose to return to your body whenever you wish it, and thanks to Mara’s magic, your body is under her protection.”
Malcolm felt his heart skip at this new information, and he was even more grateful that he hadn’t let Mara see his mother in his mind. “What will I do as a spirit?” he asked.
“We will watch and wait for an opportunity,” she said.
Malcolm began to smile with a newfound faith. “Is it true I can take the form of others if I choose?”
Daria nodded. “Yes.”
Malcolm jumped out of his chair. “Then show me how, mother! Show me how and we will leave this place.”
Corbin woke to find Mara gone from the bed. He wasn’t surprised. The night had never been her ally. But with Isa returned to them, he hoped she would find some peace in all the chaos that had become their lives.
While Corbin didn’t want to justify that these things were meant to be, he couldn’t deny the fact that had they not happened, the lives of the last Tuatha Dé Danann could have been vastly altered for the worse.
It was slowly beginning to settle in Corbin’s mind that things were as they should be. Isa was alive, Malcolm was confined and stripped of all his power, Drake’s Light was restored, and Mara had the Light of three Dia within her. Corbin wouldn’t let himself think of what life would have been like had Malcolm succeeded in his plans. But it still drove him crazy knowing he couldn’t kill Malcolm. He wanted him dead. He couldn’t begin to imagine how Mara felt about it, but it seemed that with Isa back, and knowing they would be leaving Valenia forever, Mara was at peace.
Since taking Malcolm’s Light, she hadn’t spoken about what he’d done to her. Corbin didn’t speak of it either. But he found himself being careful around her, not wanting to stir any memory that might cause her pain.
Corbin looked back at the empty spot beside him, got up and walked to the door. The hall of chambers was dark and the cold winter air seeped into every corner.
As he made his way through the great hall, hushed voices caught Corbin’s ear. He entered the dining hall and found Annora and Ailwen sitting close to one another. Ailwen held onto the tips of Annora’s fingers. They both straightened their backs when they saw Corbin and he noted the flush of crimson in Annora’s cheeks as he approached.
There was nearly six years difference between the two of them. Annora was just barely a woman, but Corbin didn’t mind the fledgling love. Ailwen was a good man.
For the first time since Corbin knew Annora, she looked vibrant, and because of Mara’s new power, the burn scar on Annora’s face was now just a star-shaped mark below the corner of her eye. When Annora asked Mara why she’d left the mark Mara replied, “Scars are not reminders of our wounds—they are the marks of our survival.”
Corbin agreed with her; after all, dead men don’t bear scars.
Annora seemed happy with it. The little white etching looked more like a hint of light than an actual scar, and while she was certainly pretty before, now she beamed with a more assured spirit. Like the rest of them, she was now a survivor.
Corbin walked up and sat down beside them. “Have you seen Mara?”
Annora shook her head. “I think she’s out on the rocks again. Do you think she will be all right, Corbin?”
Corbin weighed her question carefully before answering. Then he said, “Yes. We just need to leave here before Malcolm can cause us any trouble.”
Ailwen tucked his blond hair behind his ear. “I suppose we’ll be leaving soon?”
“Yes. Barrett and
Drake say we should be ready to leave by tomorrow at dusk.”
“Oh, thank the gods,” Annora said. “I can’t stand being here knowing he’s in there.”
Corbin nodded. He couldn’t have agreed with her more. It was unbearable knowing that Malcolm was only steps away from him, and yet so far out of his reach.
“Make sure you’re ready to go by sundown tomorrow,” Corbin said as he stood. “I’m going to find Mara.”
Mara was exactly where Annora had guessed she would be, perched on the rocks in the same spot Corbin first kissed her. If it was possible, she looked even more radiant than she had on that first night, with her long black hair blowing in the cold breeze and her skin so white she was almost incandescent.
She gave him a warm smile as he walked up and sat down beside her.
“What are you doing out here?” he asked, though he already knew the answer.
She shrugged her slender shoulders and looked out at the sea. “I just want to sit here one last time.”
Corbin put a protective arm around her, even though he knew deep down that she was no longer in need of anyone’s protection. She was the last princess of the Tuatha Dé Danann and the Keeper of the coire.
She let out a deep sigh. “I went and saw Malcolm,” she said.
Corbin slanted his head towards her. “Why would you do that?”
“I wanted to let him know he didn’t win,” she said, smiling at him with her beautiful jade eyes.
Corbin relaxed and nodded. “Good,” he said. “I’m glad.”
“How much longer before we leave?” Mara asked, putting her head on Corbin’s shoulder.
“Drake said we can leave by sundown tomorrow.”
She looked up at him with a furrowed brow. “Have you ever been to this place? Gwynedd?” she asked.
Corbin shook his head. “No. But Drake says it’s the place our people settled after the wars and that there are many ancient sidhes there. We can choose whichever one we like.” He kissed her forehead.
“I won’t miss it here, “she said.
“I won’t either.” He squeezed her tight just as snow began to fall. “Come on. Let’s get some rest,” he said, helping Mara to her feet.
She followed him into Valenia, down the chamber hall and into her room. Corbin fell into the soft bed and watched as Mara stood near the door. She smiled and walked over to him. Corbin wanted to grab her and kiss her like he used to, but he didn’t know if she was ready.
She leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on his lips, and then pulled back to look into his eyes. “I love you,” she said.
He smiled and brushed his thumb across her cheek. “I love you too.”
“Are you afraid of me?” she asked.
He tilted his head, puzzled that she would ask such a thing. “Why would I be afraid of you?”
She gave him a beautiful smile. “Because you kiss me as though I might shatter. You don’t kiss me like you used to.” She lowered her eyes for a moment, took a breath and looked at him. “I know you are concerned about me, but you don’t need to be, Corbin. I know now that I’ve been through these things for a reason. I was torn apart so that I could put myself back together and become who I was always meant to be.”
Corbin watched her, admiring the strength in her beautiful eyes. He cupped her cheek and nodded. “Then I will kiss you however you want to be kissed.”
Mara ran her hand up and down his chest and let her fingers graze his lips. “I want you to kiss me as if it’s our first kiss. This will be our new beginning,” she said.
Corbin smiled tenderly. “But I thought new beginnings only happened at dawn?”
Mara glanced toward the window. “I’ve changed my mind about that. New beginnings happen when we decide they should happen.”
Corbin laced his fingers through her long hair and drew her close so that her beating heart rested against his chest. The natural and magnificent vibration radiated through them. Corbin now knew how to describe this magic. To him, it felt like the most intense climax, or a deep breath when one has been deprived of air, and he craved it like a mortal craves food after days of hunger. It was so powerful and absorbing, and he loved it.
His eyes rested on her for a moment before he gave her a long, passionate kiss.
She drew back. “I never thanked you,” she said.
“Thanked me for what?” he asked.
Mara touched his face, sending the vibration through him. “For not giving up on me.”
Corbin took her face in his hands. “I would never give up on you.” He kissed her again and with his Dia strength, he lifted her onto the bed beneath him. He pulled her black dress from her shoulders and over her hips and dropped it to the floor. Then he stilled, unable to find the words to tell her how happy he was.
“Come here,” she whispered.
Corbin lowered himself onto her, stroked her cheek, and looked deep into her eyes. “I would never hurt you, you know that?” he whispered.
Mara grinned and a playful laugh escaped her. Even her eyes seemed to smile. She wrapped her arms around his neck and gave him a quick kiss on the lips. “I’m too powerful now, my love. You couldn’t hurt me even if you tried.”
AUTHOR’S NOTE
Writing this book was an amazing experience and I hope my readers will enjoy it. Fantasy is an exciting, magical genre to write. I love how it gives the author the creativity to reshape history and mythology as they wish.
While I did allow myself some flexibility with details, a lot of research and effort went into ensuring this novel was as historically accurate as possible. The realm of Dumnonia was a real Bythronic kingdom in the southwestern part of England, namely Devon, Cornwall and parts of Somerset and Dorset. I chose to set The Darkness of Light in Dumnonia because during the sixth century it seemed to be less affected by invasions and declines in population and trade than some of the more eastern territories. King Gerren, as referenced in this novel, is mentioned as the king of Dumnonia from 514CE to 530CE in Geoffrey of Monmouth’s History of the Kings of Britain, and he is also named as a relative of the legendary King Arthur. While Geoffrey’s chronicle of history was likely based on earlier Welsh works and offers us names of British kings over a 2,000-year period, it is largely mythical and not considered to be historically accurate.
Most town and village names in this novel are fictional, as there are no records surviving that document the ever-changing names of settlements throughout the realm. The capital city of Isca, however, was the real capital of Dumnonia, and is known today as Exeter. Isca was the site of a fortified Roman settlement, the ruins of which can still be seen today.
The legend of the Tuatha Dé Danann (pronounced Too-ah Day Danann) originated in Ireland. They are the mythological beings that we know today as Faeries. I chose not to call my characters Faeries because I felt the word Faerie created an image of diminutive, winged creatures. Instead, I used the word Dia (Dee-ah), which is Irish for God. For the purpose of this novel, I chose to use Dia as both the singular and plural form of the word, but within the Irish language, the word for God changes depending on its use.
The original legend of the Tuatha Dé Danann describes them as a race of people with godlike powers, much like the powers of the characters in this novel. They ruled Ireland for a time before succumbing to another race known as the Milsians. After their defeat, the Tuatha Dé Danann retreated to Tir na n-Og (“Land of Youth”), or into mounds known as sidhe (pronounced shee). Those that remained on earth became known in Irish as aos sí (the people of the mounds).
The reason I chose to set my characters in Dumnonia and not Ireland is because by the sixth century, Ireland had become predominantly Christian. I wanted my characters to live in a place where Christianity was present, but had not yet completely washed out paganism. Moreover, by that time in history, many Irish had settled in Dumnonia and Dyfed, making up a large part of the Bythronic population.
The four treasures of the Tuatha Dé Danann mentioned in this novel are a
lso part of the legend. The Dagda’s cauldron, also known in Irish as the coire (kor-yah), was a cauldron that could feed the whole country of Ireland. I used the coire as the dagger that holds the ancient power used by Mara (notice the similarities between the words “Dagda” and “dagger”). The Spear of Lugh, from the mystical island of Gorias, is used by Malcolm, and was said to win every battle. The Sword of Light, forged in Findias, is Corbin’s weapon, and could draw in any man once it was unsheathed. The Lia Fáil, or the Stone of Destiny, is perhaps the most well known of the four treasures. It is believed to be a large stone that rests on the Hill of Tara in County Meath. Legend says that the stone would cry or wail beneath the true king of Ireland. A piece of this stone is what Mara wears and guides her to her destiny.
While I did take some liberties with the details of the mythology in The Darkness of Light, the roots of the legend are true to form. You can find more information on my process of writing about history and mythology, as well as updates on the next installment of The Dia Chronicles, at www.TammyFarrell.com.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
IT TAKES AN ARMY OF PEOPLE TO PUBLISH A BOOK. I didn’t realize that when I sat down and wrote the first draft of The Darkness of Light. I thought I would write it, rewrite it a few more times and have a finished novel. But nothing is ever that easy. What I soon discovered is that it would take the help of many more people to get it to publication.
I would like to express my sincere gratitude to everyone who had a hand in making The Darkness of Light a reality.
First I have to thank my husband, Patrick Farrell, for putting up with my wild-eyed obsession over this book. I am so grateful to have a partner that encourages me to follow my dreams. I love you forever.
To my copy editor, Melanie Hennessey: Thank you for working so hard through all the revisions, answering all of my questions and forcing me to become a better writer. I swear I’ll figure out the lie, lay, laid thing one day…maybe.
The Darkness of Light Page 27
