Malcolm couldn’t restrain the triumphant smile on his face. “She will give you the coire and the Ruler’s stone.”
Kain looked doubtful. “Then let’s bring her out of that vault so she can recover her power.”
Malcolm quickly shook his head, sensing his father’s doubt. “She’s weakened from your attacks. She needs some time to rest.”
“So my mortal son has managed to accomplish what I have not?”
“It seems so,” Malcolm said, suppressing the urge to rejoice, to remind his father that even as a mortal, he was worthy.
But Kain offered him no praise. “Save your pride. I can smell it on you. You still don’t have your Light back.”
Malcolm exhaled irritably and watched Tristan silently slip to the side of the room, transform into the raven, and take flight through one of the grand archways. Malcolm turned back to Kain. “I will get it back.”
Kain nodded. “We’ll see about that.”
The disapproving stare from his father was like an axe to Malcolm’s already fragile ego and the sense of rejection fell over him like a blanket. While he’d already begun to plot against his own father, deep within there had been a sliver of hope that maybe Kain would accept him, embrace him as he was.
Malcolm looked in the black eyes set within Ailwen’s face, searching for something familiar, something he could understand. But they revealed no more than the darkness in which he’d been held prisoner. They were cold, dead, and as empathetic as a rat’s.
The corner of Kain’s lip curled. “Is there something you wish to say, Malcolm?”
A burst of emotions rose up in Malcolm throat and nearly choked him. His face reddened and he couldn’t keep his lips from moving. “I have dreamed of you all my life, dreamed of what a magnificent Dia you would be. But here you stand before me with a gaze as cold as a glacier. Does it not matter to you that I am your son, your flesh and blood?” Malcolm looked down at his body, his mortal hands. “I am like this now because I was like you. I had an unquenchable thirst for power that blinded my reason, yes, but for a moment, no matter how brief, I had what you never did. And even though I lost it, I have survived.” Malcolm gritted his teeth, unable to hide his disdain. “You might find me inadequate as your son, but as my father, I find you just as much a disappointment.”
Kain stared intently with a look that might turn to laughter or rage in an instant, but then he shook his head. “You are all the same. I have lived in one form or another for millennia. Do you think you’re the only son I’ve sired who’s stared at me with those same crestfallen eyes, searching for some kind of affection? Don’t think I haven’t seen it before, Malcolm.” He dropped his arms and shrugged impatiently. “We are Dia! We are demi gods! We are not mortals, bound by mortal laws and mortal limitations. I’ve no need for a son to become my heir. My life is limitless. I am my own heir! What makes you, or any of my children before you, think I would embrace a weakling that stands before me seeking a pat on the shoulder? From the moment I laid eyes on you, I knew you were made of that same fiber—a Dia tainted by mortal ideas and emotions.
“All of my children have tried to prove themselves worthy of my name. But none have succeeded, and you are no different.”
Malcolm swallowed hard, trying to cork the gut-wrenching sorrow brought out by Kain’s words. “But I am still here,” he said shakily. “And I am the one who has convinced Mara to restore my Light and give you the power you seek. I may not be the Dia you believe I should be, but you’re wrong. When I do get my Light back, and when you see that Mara has agreed to your demands, you’ll know I’m not like the others.” Malcolm sucked in a restorative breath, searching for the last dredges of dignity he could muster. He was nothing to Kain. He’d known it all along. And now that his suspicions were doubly confirmed, he knew he was making the right choice. Soon Kain would see what he was capable of and would regret ever doubting him.
Kain rubbed his chin with a smirk. “Then I look forward to it.”
As Malcolm nodded, envisioning his father’s impending defeat, he noticed Kain’s eyes suddenly dart towards the entrance, his head cocked. Malcolm knew this gesture. This was the motion of a Dia’s senses coming to life. Kain stood still for a moment, and without telling Malcolm what he’d heard, turned towards the entrance hall.
Malcolm followed, slowing his pace when he came to the doorway. He peeked around the door just as Barrett walked in with a sword drawn and his eyes alert.
Kain was there to greet him with a smile.
Barrett relaxed. “Ailwen,” he said. “I thought I sensed something wrong here.” He shook his head. “I don’t think I’ve gotten used to these new senses just yet.”
Kain clasped his hands behind his back. “They can be tricky.”
Malcolm kept to the shadows, wondering what Kain would do next.
“Why have you come back?” Kain asked in Ailwen’s more easy tones.
Barrett shook his head. “I can’t explain it, son. I just had a feeling that I was needed here.” He looked around the dim hall, his red bushy brows coming together in confusion. “Where are the others?”
“They’ve gone to the towns,” Kain replied.
Barrett frowned. “All of them?”
“Yes.”
Barrett stroked his beard and eyed Kain. “Are you well, son?”
Kain nodded. “But of course. Why would I be unwell?”
Barrett shook his head again, making no effort to conceal is bewilderment. “There are many strange things happening with these Dia. Soulless bodies, Revenant spirits. I miss the days when I knew that men were men and light was no more than a flicker of a flame.”
Kain nodded. “Yes, things have become complicated, haven’t they?”
“Aye,” Barrett said, rubbing the back of his neck.
“You look thirsty,” Kain said. “Why don’t I fetch you some ale.”
Barrett nodded. “That would be much appreciated.”
Malcolm thought he heard a note of suspicion in Barrett’s tone, and as he followed Kain into the throne room, Barrett stopped.
“What is it?” Kain asked, turning to meet Barrett’s gaze.
Barrett paused a moment then lifted his sword. “Something is amiss here. You are not Ailwen. I can feel it. I’d know my own boy. Is this the wandering spirit? The wretch, Malcolm?”
Kain smiled. “You have me mistaken, old man. I am no wandering spirit like my misbegotten son. I am a Cian.”
A nervous pause came from Barrett whose eyes darted around the hall. “What’s happened to the others? What have you done with Ailwen?”
“Ailwen is serving a far greater purpose now rather than being the lapdog of that insipid girl. I’ve done him a favor,” Kain said coolly.
Malcolm saw Barrett’s breath quicken. The choices before the man were few—kill his own son or flee. Malcolm took a step from the shadows and Barrett jumped back. “What is happening here?” Barrett growled.
“Leave,” Malcolm said. “Leave now.” Malcolm stared at him with wide eyes, but no look he gave would convince Barrett that he was trying to help.
Barrett took several steps back so that he was in the center of the great hall.
Seren, Daria, and Davina appeared around him. They looked on the scene with curiosity.
Barrett’s face reddened, his gaze rushing from one Dia to the next. “Let my son go,” he demanded.
Kain shook his head. “I’m sorry, old man, but you leave me no choice.” His hand shot up, releasing a brilliant black orb of light.
With a holler, Barrett turned out of its way, bringing his sword back around. He looked behind him and to the side, but he was surrounded by Kain and the three women. The jovial face Malcolm remembered now turned hard. Barrett had his sword ready, set upon Kain, but hesitated.
Part of Malcolm wanted to plead for Barrett’s release, but he couldn’t. Doing so would make them question his allegiance and possibly discover his plan. Malcolm held his breath as he watched the standoff, wait
ing to see who would strike first.
Kain pointed with a cold finger and Barrett dropped his sword and fell to his knees. Groans bounced off the walls as he grabbed the sides of his head. Kain looked down at him with a sinister smirk. “I’ve always wondered just how painful that is.” He bent on one knee and lifted Barrett’s head by his hair. “Tell me, is it excruciating?”
Barrett growled through the pain and reached for his sword, but it was gone. Seren stood behind him with the sword in her hands. Malcolm shook his head at her, but she smiled, ignoring him, and handed it to Kain.
Malcolm took a bold step forward, realizing the horror of Barrett being killed by his own son’s hand. “Mara will refuse you if you do this,” he shouted to his father. “She won’t give you the stone if you kill him!”
Kain shot Malcolm an icy stare. “And who is going to tell her?” Without pause, Kain brought the blade down on Barrett’s neck, severing the head with one blow.
Malcolm’s stomach turned and his heart sank as the head teetered next to the twitching body. Barrett was dead. And he’d done nothing to stop it.
His father nudged Barrett and looked to Seren. “See that he’s burned.”
Seren nodded obediently.
“What is wrong with you?” Malcolm growled at her. “Since when are you so submissive?”
Seren shrugged. “He’s our king.”
Malcolm stared as Kain sauntered off, then his eyes fell on his mother. “You are fine with this?”
Daria raised a golden brow. “Why aren’t you? Kain is a ruler. Rulers aren’t meant to be kind.”
Davina watched Seren drag Barrett’s body out the door. “He was a handsome one. Such a pity,” Davina said seductively.
Malcolm’s mouth fell open, but he quickly closed it and looked away. He couldn’t let them see his disgust. He couldn’t let them see his forthcoming betrayal. Forcing his anger down, he marched back inside the throne room. Kain was getting bolder. He cared about nothing. Barrett’s murder had just proven that. And if Malcolm didn’t get his Light back, he might be next.
Mara was still standing by Corbin’s cell when Malcolm stole back into the vault. Closing the hatch in the floor of the throne room shook his nerves, the darkness like a fist to his chest. He held up the torch and stood in the doorway, staring at the captives. “Barrett is dead,” he said bluntly.
They gaped at him.
“That’s impossible,” Drake said.
Malcolm shook his head and swallowed the lump in his throat. “He returned. Kain killed him.”
A shush of air escaped Mara’s lips and her hand shot to her mouth. “No,” she said, shaking her head. “No.”
Corbin reached through the bars to grasp her hand; his hardened eyes fell on Malcolm. “You lie. He was not meant to return until I sent word.”
Malcolm inhaled, frustrated by the constant doubt coming at him. “He returned. For whatever reason, he heard a whisper of danger, and came back. He was beheaded. I saw it for myself.”
Corbin’s face fell with sorrow and Drake groaned, his face in his hands.
“I tried to stop it,” Malcolm said in a low, even tone. “I tried to tell Barrett to turn back. But I have little power to do anything in this form. If I’d pressed any further, Kain would have me locked up here with you.”
The three prisoners stood in stunned silence while the cloud of grief hovered in the room.
“I am sorry,” Malcolm said as sincerely as he could.
Just then, Mara looked up and stepped towards him with the dagger in her hand. Malcolm went stiff as she came at him, pointing it at his chest and forcing him backwards until he stepped over the threshold of the vault. Without hesitation she moved with him, and the moment she passed through the doorway, a watery haze washed over her and her eyes lit up like a newly struck flame. She pushed him up against the wall and held the dagger to his throat.
“Easy now,” Malcolm said, swallowing hard with his hands up. “You kill me and those two will never make it out of here alive. I’m your only chance.”
Mara scowled. “I should kill you right now.”
Malcolm tried to subdue the smirk twitching his lips. “Kill me and you die as well.”
Mara’s hardened stare faltered.
“Your choices are few, Mara. Kill me, and you die along with the others. But trust me—trust that my plan will work—and you will all go free.” He carefully put his hand on the blade of the dagger and moved it from his throat. “I’ve already made my choice. Now you have to make yours.”
The dagger shook in Mara’s hand despite the obvious power within her. She looked off to the side ruefully. “No one else has to die,” she said, turning back to him.
Malcolm shook his head. “Not if you trust me. You have my word.”
“For all that’s worth,” she said.
“It’s the only chance you have,” Malcolm offered.
She glared at him a moment, and then without warning her hand shot up to his throat like a bolt of lightning, crushing him to the wall. Malcolm gasped as she pressed harder, her eyes blazing so bright he was nearly blinded. But in the midst of his struggle, he began to feel a warmth envelop him, and the blood in his veins began to vibrate as she filled him with power. The Light seeped in to him, to the very core of his chest, rising up like a geyser until it reached the top of his head. He shut his eyes against the rapturous tingling as the Light created an orange glow as if he were closing his eyes to the sun. He embraced it, giving in and letting his muscles relax as the power came over him.
Finally, Mara dropped her hand and when Malcolm opened his eyes, the most glorious sense of ease washed over him. He was restored. The Light coursing through his veins had brought him back to life, the life that he’d almost given up on.
In the hall that led to the vault his eyes darted back and forth, his vision so sharpened it made him dizzy. He saw every crevice and crack in the uneven stone walls, felt the particles in the damp air on his skin, and heard the hum of life throughout the entire mountain above. “Oh, gods, how I’ve missed this,” he whispered, looking at his hands. He focused on them, calling forth the long lost power. His body warmed and suddenly his palms burst with a white flame.
He beamed with unrestrained elation, but when he looked up from his hands, he was faced with Mara’s sorrow. He composed himself and extinguished the Light, and in that moment, all the hate he’d ever had for her was buried in his joy to be a Dia again. Malcolm paused and stared at her.
The curse between them was now broken, their souls untwined.
If she wanted to kill him right then, she could, but that wouldn’t be the solution she needed.
“I would have saved Barrett if I could have,” Malcolm said earnestly.
Mara tilted her head slowly, her eyes blazing, expressing to him her doubt. “When will Kain come for us?”
“Tomorrow. I’ve told him you will give him the stone and the power of the coire.”
Mara nodded and looked off. “Does he believe you?”
“I think so,” Malcolm said. “But until then, you must remain here. I’ve told him you need to time to regain your strength.”
“Very well,” Mara said, turning towards the vault door. “We will see our truce come to pass tomorrow.” She paused for a moment in the doorway. “But, Malcolm, if you betray me, I won’t need a curse to take you to the Otherworld with me.” She stepped back in the vault and the Light within her seemed to wash away.
Malcolm nodded as he closed the door on her, locking her back inside with her beloved until the time was right. When he was alone in the dark he paused, the power within him so strong that he couldn’t stop the smile from taking over his entire face. He’d done it. He’d earned her trust just enough to get what he wanted.
The time had come. Corbin clutched his sword, anxiously twisting his hands over the grip as Tristan fumbled with the keys to open Drake’s cell. Malcolm stood in the doorway, refusing to step in the vault and lose his power even for a moment.
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When Tristan got Drake’s cell open, Mara embraced him. “Come,” she said, motioning towards the door. “Restore your Light.”
Drake shook his head, waiting for Corbin to be freed. Tristan slipped the key in the lock.
“Is it done?” Corbin whispered to him.
Tristan locked eyes with him, nodded, and opened the door. Mara leapt into his arms, burying her face in his shoulder.
“Will this work?” she asked.
Corbin gazed down at her, concealing his uncertainty. If their victory depended on Malcolm, how could he assure her?
“It has to,” he said, placing a kiss on her forehead.
Drake held out his arm, an offering of repentance for his faults. Corbin swallowed and stared at his father’s hand. This Dia that stood before him—this man of his own blood—may have once been a conspirator against Mara’s mother. It was a hard thing to accept. But this man had also been Mara’s savior and the protector of the coire for two decades. The sincerity in Drake’s eyes went deep, and though he tried to be guarded, not one bit of doubt remained in Corbin’s mind. He reached out and accepted his father’s hand. “Tonight, we finally end this war.”
Drake nodded and gave a cautious smile. “We will.”
Together, Corbin, Mara, and Drake stepped out of the vault, and once through the doorway, their Light came back to them. The rush of power gave Corbin momentary pause. If they used all of their strength, they might able to overtake the would-be king. But he had to remind himself that this was not a fight they would win with strength. He looked up to Malcolm leaning on the wall with his arms crossed, his silvery gray eyes unreadable as always.
They were trusting a spider to free them from a web. How had it come to this?
Corbin pushed away his doubts and reached for Mara’s hand, squeezed it, and followed Malcolm and Tristan through the hall and up the stairs.
“There is no moon this night,” Mara whispered as they emerged, her eyes fixed on the sky through the open arches. “And the mountain is quiet. Dead quiet.”
“The mountain holds its breath for us,” Corbin said.
The Embers of Light Page 27
