“No,” Corbin said. “This vault was built by the gods. No Dia magic works here. Not even the strongest Dia.”
“Aye,” Barrett said. “I thought I felt drained. Best I go fill up and break my fast with some ale, eh.” He gave a deep chuckle, threw one last look at Malcolm and left the vault.
Corbin held the door open for Ailwen and secured the latch, locking it from the outside. “No Dia can break free from here,” he said. When he turned around, Ailwen was close to him, the burning torch still in his hands.
“It seems we have quite a problem here, don’t we?” Ailwen said.
“It would seem so,” Corbin responded. “But we are better with him under our watch.”
Ailwen nodded and trailed Corbin back down the passage. “Mara seems uneasy these days,” he said.
Corbin glanced back. “She is. She won’t admit it, but the unknown frightens her.”
“Doesn’t it frighten us all?” Ailwen mused. “But what would the most powerful Dia on earth have to fear?”
Corbin stopped, his shoulders tensed as he turned to face Ailwen. “She is worried about you,” he said evenly.
Ailwen’s eyes widened. “Why should she have concerns about me?”
Corbin knew this feeling well; the cold shiver up his spine, the warning storm in his chest. He may as well have been looking at a daisy, but his senses told him he might get stung by what hide beneath its petals. He decided to test his insight. “She is concerned with your transformation. She fears the Light has affected you differently than the others.” His gaze drifted toward the torch.
Ailwen gave a nod. “I am certain it has, my friend. But I can’t explain it any more than you can. It saddens me to hear that I am the cause of Mara’s unease.”
Corbin nodded but found no comfort in Ailwen’s sincerity. “I will remind her of that,” he said. “I’m sure there must be some explanation we’ve yet to discover.”
“I’m sure,” Ailwen said, continuing through the hall.
That evening, Corbin heard Isa’s sobs before he reached the chamber door, followed by the sound of Mara’s angry voice. He didn’t wait to listen before opening the door.
“What’s the matter?” he asked, looking from Isa to Mara.
Isa looked up at Corbin through wet lashes. “Mara yelled at me.”
“Why?” Corbin asked Mara.
She huffed and sat down like a sack of rocks on a cushioned chair. “I’ve told her not to touch the texts, but the child doesn’t listen.” She made no effort to mask her irritation, turning Corbin’s blood hot with anger.
He picked Isa up and wiped the tears from her cheeks. “Why are you disobeying Mara?”
Isa reached into the pocket of her skirt and pulled out a small text not much larger than her hand. “I like the pictures in this one. They’re so pretty.”
Corbin gave her a gentle smile and took the text. “But they are very old, little dove, not meant for tiny hands.”
Isa pouted.
Corbin set her down. “If Mara says you can’t touch something, you must listen to her.”
Isa lowered her gaze. “I didn’t mean to make her so angry.”
“Of course you didn’t,” Corbin said. “Now why don’t you go on to the kitchen? I think Annora has some cinnamon cakes for you.”
“All right,” Isa said softly, lacking her usual enthusiasm for sweets.
When she scampered off, Corbin turned to Mara. Her expression remained unyielding. He took a seat across from her with a questioning stare. She would not meet his gaze.
“What is the matter with you? Isa is just a child,” he said.
Mara’s lip quivered and she let her head fall into her hands. “I don’t know, Corbin. I don’t know what’s the matter with me.”
The slump in her shoulders forced him to soften. “Are you unwell again?”
She shook her head and looked up at him with glassy olive green eyes. “I don’t feel like myself. I thought I was better, but then this morning…” She broke off and choked back a sob. “There is a constant ringing in my ears and a weight upon my chest. My mind is unsteady and I can’t stream my thoughts together without feeling unhinged.” Pulling a handkerchief from her side, she dabbed her eyes. “I don’t know what’s happening to me and I’m frightened.”
He hadn’t seen her this vulnerable, this honest, since the night he healed her mortal wounds. She was broken then, and while she tried to shield herself from his knowing eyes, he could see she was broken now. Corbin knelt down in front of her and took her hands in his, kissing her palms. “What do you need from me?” he asked.
Mara squeezed his hands and brought them to her cheek. “This is more than a petty worry, Corbin. There is magic being worked on me. Something is shaking me from the inside out so that even my steps are unsteady.”
Corbin looked away and exhaled. “I will figure this out, Mara. Put all your worries on my shoulders. It’s my job not only as your guardian, but also as the man who loves you to protect you. I’ve strength enough for us both.”
Mara put her hands to her temples, let out a sob, and leaned forward into Corbin’s arms. He lifted her, carried her to the bed, and smoothed the silken black hair from her face.
“I didn’t mean to be cruel to Isa,” Mara whispered. “Do you think she’ll forgive me?”
“I’ve no doubt she will,” Corbin said. He reached for the little book he’d tucked into his belt and pulled back the leather cover marked with symbols. The pages were blank. He wrinkled his brow and set it down on the bedside table. “Now,” he stroked her cheek, “close your eyes and get some rest.”
As he moved to stand, her hand shot up and clutched his sleeve.
“Please don’t go,” she said, her eyes rimmed with red. “Stay with me a while.”
Corbin nodded. “I will stay with you an eternity if you wish it,” he said, deciding it wasn’t the right time to tell her that they would, in fact, have an eternity. He removed his belt, let it drop to the floor and lay down beside her. “You feel so cold,” he said, tucking her under his arm.
She turned and nuzzled his neck, her warm breath contrasting the touch of her cool skin.
“I need to feel you near me,” she whispered. “I will always need you.”
Corbin stroked her hair. “And I, you.”
Mara opened her eyes to the dark, her vision encircled by fog. She blinked and looked next to her. Corbin lay asleep beside her. With a gentle brush of her hand on his cheek, she rose from the bed, wrapped a robe around her shoulders, and opened the shuttered window.
She took a deep breath of fresh air as the sounds of rustling leaves and the singing mountain river called to her. As she looked over the valley below, she had but a moment of stillness before the ringing in her ears returned and her head began to throb. Pressing her hands to her head, she stumbled back on a stool, her heart beating like a blacksmith’s hammer. She closed her eyes and focused, summoning the energy to ward of whatever was trying to disorient her. That’s when the sound of rustling pages caught her ear. She looked up to see something glowing on the small table near the bed.
Like a ghost called to the other side, she rose from the stool and drifted towards it, and as she drew nearer, she saw the little manuscript Corbin had taken from Isa. It opened as if by an unseen hand, the pages turning on their own.
Mara stood over it and held her breath until the pages stopped and the phantom light faded to a dull glow. Glancing over her shoulder to see that Corbin still slept, she picked it up with a trembling hand. She willed her eyes to focus and for a moment, the pressure in her head abated. She examined the book. The page was cool, like it had just been covered in a sheath of ice, and suddenly, words began to appear. She traced them as they flowed along the page and gasped when she read what was written. “Geata bealach,” she whispered. Gateway. “The power of the coire opens the gateway.”
She turned the page and ran her finger across the crude drawing of a chalice with flames coming out of it, tw
isting up like black vines. This was the symbol for the coire. Below the chalice she saw the word neamhbhasacht. “Immortal,” she said. “The Keeper of the coire is immortal.”
Just then a piercing scream rang out so loud that it felt like a dagger in Mara’s ear.
Corbin shot up in the bed. “What was that?” He flung the coverlet off and got to his feet.
Mara dropped the book and moved with him to the door. The scream rang out again, filled with the kind of terror that would make a man’s heart go cold.
“Annora,” Corbin called, running down the hall. He listened at the door and then kicked it open.
“There is so much blood!” Annora cried out.
Mara pushed past Corbin to see Annora standing in her shift, her hands held out in front of her as though they were dripping with blood.
But nothing was there.
Footsteps and opening doors echoed through the hall as the others came to investigate the noise.
Mara felt her heart rise to her throat. Slowly, she approached Annora, took her hands and examined them. They were clean. She looked Annora over and found no injury. “There is no blood, Annora,” Mara said gently.
Tears rushed from Annora’s eyes. “Yes, there is. Don’t you see it? It’s all over me.” She shook her hands to shed the invisible blood. “Something was on top of me, my skin was on fire—and then there was blood.”
Drake stepped in the room.
“She thinks she sees blood,” Mara said to him.
Drake took Annora’s hand. “Look, dear.” He ran his hand across hers. “There is no blood.”
Annora blinked several times and looked down at her hands in disbelief. “But…but it was there. I saw it.”
Mara wrapped an arm around Annora and led her to the bed. “Come. You’re all right.”
“Perhaps it was just a dream,” Corbin offered.
“Yes, just a dream,” Ailwen said, standing in the doorway. “That’s what it sounds like.” He raised a brow at Annora. “Are you all right, my darling?”
Mara saw the flash of light in Annora’s eyes as she looked at Ailwen, but soon she was back to sobbing.
Mara told the others to leave the room, and when she was alone with Annora she asked, “What did you see?”
Annora lay back on the pillow as if it were made of stone. “I was asleep, and when I awoke I couldn’t breathe, like I was drowning and burning at the same time.” She began to sob again “There was so much blood, Mara. It came from everywhere, my eyes, my nose—I couldn’t stop it.”
“Hush,” Mara soothed as the sound of Annora’s screams still echoed in her mind. “It must have been a dream, then. You are fine now.”
Mara sat with Annora a while longer until she finally closed her eyes, and when Annora was settled, Mara left her. She paused outside the door, remembering Ailwen’s lack of concern, then stormed towards the great hall.
Corbin and the others sat at the long table. Mara focused on Ailwen. Feeling her strength return to her, she stood over him like he was no more than a field mouse. “Where were you?” she demanded.
Ailwen glanced at the others. “I was out enjoying the night sky.”
“Did you hear her scream?”
“I did,” Ailwen said. “And I came straight away.” He looked as though her questioning was unjust. “You don’t think I had anything to do with this, do you? I would never hurt her. And you saw for yourself, there was nothing wrong with her.”
Mara leaned in, her eyes boring in to him. “I don’t believe you,” she hissed just as the ringing in her ears grew. She gritted her teeth against it, willed her power to stop it until it became a dull hum. “What’s happened to you? How do you explain your new power?”
Before Ailwen could answer, she felt Corbin’s hands on her shoulders. “Mara,” he said.
“What is she going on about?” Barrett asked, his russet brows coming together in confusion.
“Must be her headaches again,” Gareth said.
Corbin squeezed her shoulders. “Mara, come with me.”
She couldn’t look away from Ailwen. His face read of innocence, his eyes sincere, but his energy was impure, tainted with whatever she had let through the gateway. She was sure of it now. “What tricks are you playing on me?” she seethed. “You leave Ayrith and my mind is clear. You return and I am afflicted again. What are you doing to me?”
Corbin tightened his grip. “Mara, that’s enough.” He tried to pull her back. “Now is not the time,” he whispered in her ear.
Mara jerked herself free and looked on them all. She couldn’t read their faces through the haze over her eyes. How could they just sit there staring at her? Didn’t they see what was going on? Didn’t Corbin see?
She gave one last scathing look at Ailwen and marched back down the hall. Corbin was right on her heels and in one swift step, he was in front of her, blocking her path before their chamber door.
“Mara, stop,” he said.
“Are you blind?” she asked. “He is the one causing all of this.” She waved her hand around as though a bloody battlefield lay before them.
“I do see it. I do,” he assured. “But we can’t leap in the middle of a fight blind. If Ailwen is the cause of this imbalance, we need to find out how. For now, it’s best to be vigilant. We need to find out why his power is different.”
Mara couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “And by then I will be raving mad with sickness. Is that what you wish to happen?”
Corbin shook his head. “Of course not.” He moved in closer, his expression serious. “Look, I agree. Something is strange with Ailwen. I have kept a close watch on him since we left for Valenia. I will have word with Drake tonight, see what he thinks should be done.”
Mara groaned, partly with frustration and partly from the pain in her head. “I am tired of having to consult Drake for everything,” she said.
Corbin gave her a pleading look, but even his gentle eyes couldn’t soften her now.
“I want Barrett and Gareth to take Isa away from here,” she said. “Have them take her to Helen in Moorthrop. Isa needs to be protected. If there is something wrong here, it’s Ailwen, and I don’t want Barrett here to interfere with his son.”
Corbin’s dark brows furrowed. “Isa is safe here with you and me. We lost her once; I’ll not have her taken to the place where your mother was murdered, to live with mortals.”
Mara pursed her lips and looked away. “Helen will take care of her. Moorthrop is safe now. At least until we know there is no danger here.”
“No,” Corbin said firmly. “Isa will stay here where I can protect her.”
Mara felt her cheeks redden and before she knew it, she said, “Were you protecting Isa when she ended up with her throat slit?” She regretted the words immediately and brought her hand to her mouth.
If her words had been a dagger, then it was lodged right in Corbin’s heart. His face fell, his eyes stared at her in pained disbelief.
“I’m sorry, Corbin,” she said quickly. “I didn’t mean—” She reached out for him but he pulled away. The shame that spread over her was almost as unbearable as the look of hurt in his eyes. She didn’t know why she said it, didn’t know why she was turning so cruel.
Corbin’s expression hardened. He cleared his throat and stepped back a pace. “Very well. I will have them take her to Moorthrop tomorrow, as you wish.” His tone was cold and formal, and before she could spit out another apology, he turned on his heel and marched down the hall. There was a heavy bang as the entrance door to Ayrith opened and slammed shut. She knew she wouldn’t see him again for the rest of the night, and her blood ran cold.
With regret running through her like lava, Mara slipped back into the darkened chamber. She was becoming a monster, losing all control of herself. She wondered if Malcolm’s presence was what had her so on edge. In her hazy mind, she’d nearly forgotten he was with them.
No, she thought, he was not with them, just a shell of him was. She looked to t
he bed and her eyes fell on the little book. It was no longer glowing and the moving pages were now at rest. She lit a candle and sat with an exasperated sigh.
As she turned the book over in her hands, a moment of clarity came over her, the ringing in her ears stopped. “How have I not seen this before?” she whispered in the dark.
It was a text on the four treasures of the Tuatha Dé Danann. She read of the Dia weapons—the spear of Lugh, made in the city of Gorias, and the sword of Findias. These were the weapons of war, meant to protect the Dia kingdom. But they were not the most sacred of their treasures. She turned the page and saw a sketch of the Lia Fáil, the tear-shaped stone around her neck. Mara knew little of it; only that it had been her mother’s. It was her uncle, Rowan, who told her its use—to guide the wearer along their destined path. But Rowan had been wrong. So very wrong. And before Mara knew that it could take Light from another, it was in Malcolm’s hands.
A shudder ran across Mara’s shoulders and she touched the stone around her neck, reminding herself that she had won. But as she read on, her heart quickened. The stone was a Ruler’s stone, meant only for the king of the Tuatha Dé Danann. Mara’s head shot up. Her mother hadn’t been a ruler. She was the Keeper of the coire. So why would she have the stone?
Mara turned back to the page with the chalice, meant to symbolize the infinite cup of life; the black flames were the mark of death. And then the word neamhbhasacht stood out to her once more.
“I am meant to be immortal,” she whispered. “I am the immortal gatekeeper.”
She wanted to run and find Corbin, to tell him about the book. But then he would look at her with that heartsick stare, and she would know she’d been its cause.
A gentle knock at her door roused her from her thoughts. Corbin wouldn’t have knocked. “Come in,” she said, her voice a little hoarse.
Drake stepped in with two silver cups in his hand. “I thought you might need this,” he said, handing her the cup of mulled wine.
She took it. “Thank you.” She motioned for him to sit near the hearth, and sat across from him dejectedly, but grateful for his presence. “I told Corbin we must send Isa away.”
The Embers of Light Page 18
