The Embers of Light

by Tammy Farrell

  Drake nodded. “I agree with you.” He rested his elbow on the arm of the chair and stroked his beard, his blue eyes thoughtful.

  “Why have you kept things from me?” Mara asked. She’d known he’d been keeping secrets. She’d known it all along, even before he insisted she wait to make the others Dia.

  Drake looked up, startled at first, but resigned himself to a confessional nod. “I wanted to protect you, to let your heart heal before weighing it down with worry.”

  Mara sipped the mulled wine. “You ancients like to keep your secrets,” she said. “Even my uncle was less than forthcoming with what he knew.” She didn’t intend this as an accusation. She knew Drake was not like her uncle, that he wasn’t after her power, but there was something behind the centuries in his eyes that always masked the truth.

  “It is not by choice, my dear. In my five hundred years I’ve learned that often silence is better than to speak.” He exhaled and took a sip of wine. “Besides, even though you undid your mother’s spell, it’s taken some time to regain my memories.”

  Mara gulped the wine to dull the ache in her head. “Do you think they’ve all returned to you now?”

  Drake shrugged one shoulder. “I believe so, though, five centuries worth of memories is a lot to sort through.”

  “Do you wish they’d never come back to you?” She studied his face, wondering what forgetting must be like.

  Drake ran his finger along the rim of his glass. “Some I wish had never come back,” he said. “I haven’t been perfect. I’ve made choices I wish I hadn’t, killed men in the wars I wish I’d never fought…” He trailed off looking out the window.

  Mara tilted the glass back and drank the rest of the wine. “What do you know of the Keeper’s immortality?”

  His eyes shot up to meet hers. “Has Corbin told you?”

  Mara shook her head. “He knew?” she asked, trying to conceal the sense of betrayal inching through her. Corbin knew. He knew and he held it back from her.

  Drake nodded. “I only told him yesterday. Given what’s happened today, can you blame him for not wanting to upset you?”

  Mara exhaled and nodded. “I suppose not.” She reached for the book and handed it to Drake. “Isa found this.”

  Drake sifted through the pages with a look of familiarity on his face and handed it back. “I know it well. I was the one who created it.”

  “You wrote this?” Mara asked with surprise.

  Drake’s eyes shifted up, as though he was just coming upon a newfound memory. After a moment, he looked back on her and nodded. “Just before I left the kingdom.”

  Mara set her glass down, wishing it was still full. “But why?”

  “Because there were those who wished to conceal the truth of the treasures, to take the power of them all.”

  “They’re not meant for one Dia alone,” Mara guessed.

  “No,” Drake said. “They’re not. But that was in a time when there were many of us.”

  Mara fingered the stone around her neck. “This was not my mother’s, was it?”

  Drake paused a moment, his eyes studying the stone. “No. That belonged to the last king of our kind—Malcolm’s father.”

  Mara bristled at the name and took in a sharp breath. “My mother took it when she killed him?”

  Drake nodded with his eyes fixed on her.

  “But why would she kill him?”

  Drake took in a deep breath, lines formed on his brow. “Kain was a tyrant among us,” he said bitterly. “He wanted to raise an army of Dia, bring back the old ways when we were warriors. He wanted to rule the mortals.” He looked off, putting his hand on his chin. “I left for Rome. I wanted nothing to do with his plans. You could say I was a coward, I suppose. Perhaps I should have stayed and fought him like the others. Instead, I fought with the Romans. I was a fool then. I sought out a mortal man’s war. A war I knew I could win.

  “Your mother stayed behind. She had little choice in the matter. Her father, your grandfather, had been the king before Kain, and Rowan had taken a seat as Kain’s advisor. Ethnea didn’t want to abandon him, lose him to Kain’s dark world. But keeping her secret, the power of the coire, was no easy task. And once Kain suspected it, he wanted her power, and would stop at nothing to get it.”

  Mara took in a deep breath. “So that’s why she killed him. It was either give up her power to him, or live with his blood on her hands.”

  Drake nodded. “By killing our king, with no ruler to follow, it had an effect that no one could foresee. We all but vanished, our kind dispersing, moving in and through the shadows. It has only been twenty years since his death, and yet you’d think it has been centuries. Where could they all have gone?”

  Mara clasped her fingers in her lap and swallowed hard. “Has Corbin told you about the others?” She held her breath, hoping Corbin had kept her secret.

  Drake’s brows wrinkled as he shook his head.

  “There are others out there, Drake. I can feel them. We yet live.”

  Drake took a moment to think and then pointed to the stone around her neck. “You wear the Ruler’s stone. That must be why they call to you.”

  With a deep breath, Mara pushed down the flurry in her stomach. “What is happening to me, Drake? What is wrong with Ailwen? Geata bealach,” she repeated the word. “Have I opened the gateway?”

  There was a moment of heavy silence between the two before Drake spoke. “I fear that you might have, and I am sorry for it. I am sorry I didn’t know sooner.”

  A sour taste rose in Mara’s mouth. “What do we do?”

  He sat forward, his blue eyes deep with worry. “I know of two Dia, if they still live, who can help us. They are ancients, with power and wisdom enough to banish whatever is in our midst. It’s time we sought them out, and I think it’s time they met their new queen.”

  A heavy weight sat on Mara’s chest and terror struck her, but she didn’t let Drake see it. “Very well,” she said.

  Drake got to his feet, took Mara’s hand in his, and kissed it. “Fear nothing, Mara. Don’t forget who you are and where you come from.” He patted her hand and left her.

  She sat in the dark a long while, wishing Corbin would come back to her. But the night was yet long and her mind was in a whirl. Suddenly the ringing in her ears began. Almost blindly, Mara stumbled to the bed, lay down and squeezed her temples. All she wanted was Corbin beside her. But for now, the cold bed would have to be her only comfort.

  The next morning, Corbin awoke with his head on the table in the throne room and an empty barrel of ale at his feet. Mara’s words had cut him deeply, more than he cared to think about. The drink helped some, numbing the freshly opened wound of guilt within him.

  It was his fault Isa had died.

  And it was his fault Mara had been raped. He’d protected neither of them. And now, when danger might yet again be at their door—worse—within their walls, he was doing nothing.

  Corbin shook his head. The night before, after he’d stormed away from Mara, he went back to her door only a while later. His first plan was to admonish her, tell her that his only reason for breathing was to keep her and Isa safe, but then it occurred to him that she was right. And when he listened at her door, and heard her conversation with his father, Corbin decided to be idle no more.

  After he’d lifted his head from the table and wiped his mouth, he set to work ordering Gareth and Barrett to take Isa to Moorthrop, and instructing them to stay there until he sent word for their return. There was some question as to why he would be sending Isa away, so Corbin concocted a story about Isa needing some time among mortals, some time around children her own age. Barrett and Gareth didn’t question him further, realizing the opportunity to spend their days in the tavern, and Barrett was eager to see Helen again.

  Once the arrangements were made, Corbin went to Mara’s door and knocked. The eager footsteps were quick and when the door flung open, she nearly collapsed into his arms.

  “I’m sorr
y, my love, I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice cracking with sobs.

  Corbin pressed her to him, stroking her hair. “All is forgiven. You were right.” He drew her back and nearly gasped when he saw that the whites of her eyes were completely red. He cupped her blanched face. “What’s happened to you?”

  She shook her head almost hysterically. “It was so cold last night. So cold. I couldn’t stop shivering.”

  Corbin wrapped his arms around her, stepped into the room and closed the door. “Sit,” he said and motioned towards the bed.

  She did as she was told, still repeating apologies.

  Corbin tilted her chin from left to right, examining her eyes. “Can you see?” he asked, trying to hide his horror.

  “Only a little,” she said. “It’s like my eyes are open beneath salt water.”

  Corbin stroked her cheek and nodded. “Hush now,” he said, calling upon his healing Light.

  Whatever was working on Mara had also taken away her power to heal herself. He felt the whirl of power rise within him, twisting through his veins. He placed his hands on the sides of her face and closed his eyes, letting his magic pour through her. She took a deep breath and brought her hands to his so that they completed the circle of power, each drawing on the other for strength.

  When he finally looked at her, she stared back, the whites of her eyes now a faint rose color. “Is that better?” he asked.

  She blinked several times. “Yes,” she whispered. “I think so.” She fell forward to his arms. “Oh, Corbin, I’m afraid.”

  “Hush,” he soothed, pushing down the knot in his stomach. “My father will take you away from here today. I will stay and guard the vault. It should not be left unattended. Barrett and Gareth are nearly ready to leave with Isa.”

  “I’m sorry, Corbin. I didn’t mean to say you were the cause of Isa’s death. I didn’t mean it.”

  “I know,” Corbin said. He pulled away and looked into her eyes. “I will draw you a bath. That should make you feel a little better. He got to his feet. “And then we can see Isa off.”

  “Yes.” Mara nodded like a child, making Corbin’s heart sink further.

  Once he drew her bath, he went down to the vault to make sure Malcolm’s body was secure, and gave further instructions to Barrett and Gareth. He trusted they would guard Isa with their lives, if it came to it.

  Now Corbin was admittedly relieved to know that Isa would be leaving. With Mara’s affliction and Ailwen’s unexplained strength, the last thing he wanted was for Isa to fall in the middle of it all.

  The time came to say their goodbyes, and for Corbin, it was a somber affair. Only he, Drake, and Mara knew the real reason why Isa was leaving—they were anticipating a war—and despite their best efforts, none of them hid their apprehensions well.

  Corbin squeezed Mara’s hand. “No worries, my love.”

  “I don’t understand it,” Annora said. “Why is Isa being sent away?”

  “She needs to spend some time in the world,” Mara said. “We can’t keep her locked away with the seven of us forever. We’ve all lived in the mortal world. I think it’s time Isa did the same.”

  Annora nodded reluctantly.

  “It won’t be forever,” Corbin promised. “Just until we know Mara is well again.”

  Isa ran into the great hall with her kitten in her arms and a broad smile on her face. “I am going on a journey, Corbin. I get to go to the towns.”

  “I know, little dove.” He scooped her up in his arms and gave her a kiss. “Now you be good for Barrett and Gareth, don’t cause them any trouble.”

  She gave him a sly smile and laughed. “I won’t, I promise.”

  “Very well. We will see you soon, little dove,” Corbin said, setting her down on her feet.

  She ran to Mara and gave her a hug. “I’ll miss you,” Isa chimed, no hint of anger from the previous night in her voice.

  “I will miss you as well,” Mara said, giving her a kiss.

  Once all the farewells were given, and a tear or two shed, Barrett and Gareth set down the path with Isa in tow. When the heavy door closed, the mood in Ayrith darkened considerably.

  Corbin followed Mara and Drake as they entered the throne room. Mara’s eyes drifted to the latch on the floor to the vault, but quickly looked away.

  “I wish you would come with us,” Mara said to Corbin.

  “You know I can’t,” he said, kissing her head.

  “What will you tell Ailwen and Annora?” Drake asked.

  Corbin shrugged. “That you decided to follow Isa, make sure she arrived in Moorthrop safely.”

  Drake nodded. “Good.” He reached out his hand for Corbin. “We will be swift.”

  Corbin pulled his father closer and whispered, “Please take care of her.”

  “Of course,” Drake said.

  Corbin said goodbye to Mara and watched them walk down the mountain to fetch the horses, hoping that they’d find the ancient Dia and return with some answers.

  If any mountain could ever strike fear in the heart of a hardened man, then Malcolm was in its shadow. The set of three rising peaks taunted him, and the sidhe, resting atop the highest mount, mocked his mortality. He could see it well enough, being that his soul was still that of a Dia, but its grandeur and mystical genesis stood as a reminder that he did not belong there.

  In a tree-lined valley, far enough away from the mountain to avoid detection, Malcolm and Seren rested in the shade from the unusually blazing sun, waiting for Tristan to return.

  They’d stolen a horse to keep pace with Corbin and his men. Seren used her Light to give the animal speed, and when they neared the mountains, they walked the last few miles on foot.

  Malcolm’s feet were nearly raw from the journey.

  The birds fluttered overhead, swooping and calling to one another. But none were the bird Malcolm waited on. It seemed hours had passed since Tristan flew up the mountain to get a better look at Ayrith, and still he hadn’t returned.

  “What could be taking him so long?” Malcolm grumbled.

  Seren shrugged as she idly picked wildflowers in the valley. “He is taking as long as he needs to.” She looked up at him. “You want him to find your body, don’t you?”

  “Yes,” Malcolm said. His stomach let out an angry grumble of hunger, causing Seren’s eyes to widen.

  “You need to eat more than a newborn babe,” she said with a laugh.

  Malcolm rolled his eyes. “Yes, well, unfortunately this mortal form needs sustenance to live.” He cocked his head towards her. “What are you doing over there?”

  Seren took a moment longer and then walked over with her skirt gathered in her hands. She stood over him and when the skirt dropped, dandelions and little round berries fell to the ground.

  “Elder berries,” she said. “And you can eat the leaves and stalk of the dandelion.” She gathered her skirt and sat down beside him. “They won’t taste very good, but they’ll keep you alive for the next hour, at least.” Her eyes glistened with a smile.

  Malcolm relaxed and allowed the corner of his lip to curl up in a half-smile. He reached for the berries. “I never learned to hunt properly, you know. Corbin was interested in those things, always tried to get me to hunt without using my power. But it was too easy to just chase rabbits down and twist their necks, or catch a fish without so much as getting my trousers wet.” He picked off a dandelion leaf, stuffed it in his mouth, and spit it right back out when the bitter, acrid thing touched his tongue.

  Seren threw her head back with a laugh. “I warned you.”

  “Are you trying to poison me?” he said as he spat.

  “They are perfectly safe to eat,” she said “I’ve seen the village men do it many times. It’s not like we have a market nearby for cheese and bread now, do we?”

  Malcolm spat out the rest of the leaf and opted for another berry.

  Seren flattened out her skirt. “So, Corbin is your brother?”

  Malcolm eyed her for a mom
ent, but decided suspicion was a tiresome game. He nodded. “In a way, yes. He was a foundling. We were raised as brothers since we were boys.” Malcolm narrowed his eyes. “But he wasn’t one of us. He was never cut out for it. He was a Halfling before Mara—” Malcolm stopped himself.

  “Ah.” Seren nodded. “So your foundling brother won the heart of your beloved.”

  Malcolm chewed an elder seed in his teeth. “Something like that, you could say.”

  Seren sat forward a little. “Then, if he got the girl, why would she take your power? You said you had some blame in it?”

  Malcolm picked pieces of grass in front of him. He didn’t know why he felt so conversational. “I took her power first,” he said. “And I tried to make her love me. I tried to force her to choose me.” He threw the grass angrily.

  “But she didn’t,” Seren added.

  Malcolm shook his head. “No, and I knew she wouldn’t. But our guardian, Rowan, attacked me. I had no choice but to kill him, and without knowing what I was doing, I took his Light.” Malcolm sucked in a breath as he remembered the feeling. “It made me feel invincible, like something greater than this earth, like something greater than all the stars combined came alive inside of me.” He paused and looked away. “And it made me crazy with rage. I was blind with it. When Mara accused me of murdering Rowan, I took her power with the charm she’d so carelessly given away. We didn’t know its power then. None of us did.” He sat back and picked up another berry. “It was a rush like I could never describe to you,” he said, recalling the tingle of infinite life in his fingertips. “I should have let her go, let her run to Corbin and left them as they were. But I was a fool, and I was greedy. I wanted her, I wanted Corbin’s life, and I wanted all the power.” Malcolm was stunned by just how honest he was being. He didn’t think he’d even been this honest with himself. But Seren had already come this far with him, nursed him from death’s door. If she was going to look on him in judgment and disgust, now might as well be the time.

  Seren cast her gaze down for a moment. “What’s so wrong with that?” she asked, looking up. “Don’t all great men, all great Dia, become so by taking what they want?”