Prophecy (The Destiny Series Book 4)

by Christine Grey

  “I was amazing, wasn’t I? Sometimes I even impress myself.”

  “Often, I would say, but I know you, Brin’du Drak’Tir, and you do not fool me. Oh, maybe once you were the teeniest bit selfish and self-centered, but that all changed when you met one young girl, did it not? You have changed. You have grown.”

  “For Tolah’s sake, Aesri! Keep your voice down.”

  “I will if you wish, my friend, but I am afraid that secret has been out for some time.”

  Brin tipped his head and squinted his eyes. “You almost managed it.”

  “Managed what?”

  “To distract me from my initial question. When will you learn? I cannot be so easily diverted. Tell me now, quickly, what do you fear?”

  “It is not fear—more a sadness at the things that must pass away. I simply have a feeling Rah is calling me to something that will take me from this place forever.”

  “Then don't go! Stay here, and let another go in your place. You're needed here as much as anywhere. You have said many times that Rah allows you to choose, so choose a different way.”

  Aesri patted him affectionately and shook her head. “I chose to follow where He led long ago, and I will not run from my duty now. Besides, since Niada’s death, I have felt lost. Perhaps Rah is giving me a chance to find myself once more.”

  “Bah! What good is it to have a god who allows you to choose if he is forever demanding you choose what he wants, which is no choice at all.”

  “Rah is your God, too, though you will deny it to your dying day, if dragons could be said to have a dying day. Rah made all things, even Tolah, and you are as much a part of His plan as I am.”

  Brin rolled his eyes at her wild statement, but in his heart, he knew she was right. Still, Tolah was all he cared to concern himself with. Anything beyond that made him feel like a mouse pinned between two cats.

  “Try not to worry too much, Aesri. You've been wrong before, and you could as likely be wrong now. Your premonition may be nothing more than nerves. We will find the children and be back here before you know it.”

  “I am sure you are right. They are almost ready. We should say our goodbyes.” With that, she glided away from him and made her way to the small cluster of people who Siusan had allowed to come to the docks.

  He decided that he could not put it off any longer. Siusan had moved away from the main group, and she appeared to be waiting patiently for him to notice her. Silly, girl—he always noticed her.

  “Siusan, are you waiting for me?”

  “You know that I am.”

  “Yes, but I was trying to be polite. How was I?”

  “As good as you ever are,” she answered ambiguously.

  “That good, huh? I'll work on it.”

  Siusan leaned into him, and he lowered his head so that his jaw rested ever so lightly on her delicate shoulder.

  “I wish we could go flying again, just one more time.”

  “We will go flying many, many times. I told you, I will be back so soon that you will not have time to miss me.”

  Siusan traced lazy patterns on his scales with her fingers, and he made a soft sound, somewhere between a purr and a growl.

  “I will be lonely without you. I have become accustomed to the sound of your heart. It will not be the same without you.”

  “You aren’t going to cry, are you?”

  “No. Why, are you?”

  Brin chuckled and pulled his head back so that he could see her expression. “I have always liked the color of your eyes, gold, like mine.”

  “No, mine are more amber,” she said with a shake of her head. “Yours are true gold.”

  “Close enough. They are warm, and when I look into them, I see your heart shining through. The red hair’s a nice touch, too. It’s my favorite color.”

  Siusan gave a small snort. “I wonder why.”

  “You have to admit,” he said, puffing out his chest proudly, “it is an extremely handsome color. Besides, I like that we match. Your red hair and gold eyes and my red scales and gold eyes—we were practically designed for one another.”

  “I told you, they’re amber, not gold, and whoever designed the two of us for each other could have thought to do something about the size difference, but, yes, Brin, we go together quite well.

  "Please see to it you don’t do any more damage to yourself while you are away. It would be a terrible shame to see you less than your most stunning.”

  “I couldn’t agree more. No holes in your hide while I am away either, agreed?”

  “I will be careful, I promise.”

  “I know you will, but just to be sure, I have spoken to Aodh, and you will have a personal guard to watch over you.”

  “Oh, Brin, is that necessary? I would feel so funny.”

  “It most certainly is necessary. You lead the council. People are counting on you. You will be of no use to anyone if you are hurt. Besides, if I return and find you have been injured in any way, I would have to start hunting people down and maiming or killing them, which would ruin my reputation.”

  “We can’t have that. I will accept the guards as long as you promise to relieve me of them as soon as you get back to take up the job yourself.”

  “There is no doubt about that. Aodh has chosen a guard that would not have been my first choice.”

  “How so? Do you have doubts as to their loyalty?”

  “No, it’s just that I specifically requested a certain kind of person, but Aodh argued there were simply no old, toothless, ugly Etrafarians to choose from.”

  Siusan giggled and kissed the tip of his nose. “They are not my type. I prefer my men huge, red, and arrogant.”

  Brin shuddered. “Please don’t call me a man.”

  “Brin?” Dearra was approaching, but she called out while still well away from them so as not to intrude. “We have to go.”

  Brin nodded. “I'm coming. You go aboard and have them get the sails up. I'll be right behind you.”

  Dearra turned without argument and headed back to the ship.

  “She still does not like me very much, does she?”

  “No, not particularly, but only because she's jealous I don't spend all my time with her and her alone, and who wouldn’t be? You can’t hold that against her.”

  “Same old Brin, always so insecure,” she teased.

  He gave her a wink but then turned serious. “Watch Trina. Do not let your guard down for a moment. Trust Aodh and trust the guard he has chosen for you, but trust no one else; I mean it, Siusan, not anyone else. Aodh took great pains to pick your guard, and they have submitted to some…less than pleasant tactics to ensure their honesty and loyalty.”

  “What does that mean, Brin? Were they hurt? You didn’t have anything to do with that, did you? Oh, Rah! What did you do, Brin?”

  “Settle down, Siusan. We all did what was necessary to make sure you would be safe. The Etrafarians who volunteered for the job knew exactly what they were doing and what would be done to them. Service to one another, remember? Please, it is done now, and there is no sense in worrying about it. Instead, think about what they have gone through to keep you protected when the urge strikes you to go running off on your own, and just don’t, okay?”

  She chewed on her bottom lip. There were worry lines etched into her normally smooth forehead. “I will, but don’t ever do something like that again without speaking to me first.”

  He nodded once and turned to go, but she stepped in front of him and raised her arms to him. He lowered his head to her outstretched hands, and she pressed her lips to his cheek.

  “I love you, Brin. No matter what you do.”

  “And I you.”

  ***

  Brin continued to fly up and down the coast and inland for a mile or more at a time, before returning to the ship to update Dearra. Not that there was much to tell her—he saw nothing, actually. Days had gone by with the same boring monotony. Even though he had no news for her, Dearra still insisted he check in
every few hours. Darius had tried to talk her down, but had quickly thrown up his hands in defeat. Brin didn’t blame him. Dearra could be just a little bit stubborn.

  Tolah had said to go north, but he didn’t say how far north, or if the children would be found on the coast or inland, if they would be alone or with someone, or even if they were all right or in trouble. In short, he hadn’t been very helpful. "North," at least, was a place to start.

  Brin played the dreams over in his mind as he flew. The one part that had him most concerned was where Tolah had said, “The time is not yet. It is too soon, but, sadly, when you do go, it will be too late. The key will be sundered.” It was clear from the dreams that Tabby and Holly were the key. Sundering didn’t sound like a word that was cause for a whole lot of happy. Sundering sounded bad.

  He had not shared that detail with Carly, Dearra, or Darius, but he had told Daniel. Carly was soft-hearted and patient, but a distraught fairy was an unpredictable fairy. Dearra would have lost her temper completely and become impossible to reason with, and Darius—though he had a pretty firm hold on his Breken impulses, especially after all his years on Maj, mentioning his little girl and the word sunder in the same sentence wasn’t something Brin cared to do, unless it became absolutely necessary. Still, he thought he should tell someone. The weapons master could get as upset as any other man, but he tended to calm down quickly, always on the lookout for a solution, a tactical advantage.

  He took it as well as could be expected, and Brin reminded him that Tolah was a little theatrical, so maybe it didn’t mean what it sounded like. The part that he didn’t share with any of them was that bit about “it will be too late.” Brin didn’t understand why Tolah would make him wait if that were the case, but there was nothing he could do. When Tolah said wait, he waited, no matter what his personal feelings about it might be.

  He had flown ahead several miles, looking for a place to rest. He still tired more easily than he used to. Even before he had been injured, he was unable to fly indefinitely. He landed in a small but sunny patch of brush and proceeded to settle in. He let his eyes close with a weary sigh, wanting only a short nap. Dearra would be upset if he were away for too long. His eyes closed, and he fell asleep almost immediately.

  Brin’du Drak’Tir, listen carefully. You must not go. You will want to, but you are to stay on Etrafa.

  “Go?”

  They have the prophecy. You will guide them. You are not to explain what it means, though you will understand where they do not. It is not time. The child, Holly, understands. Rah wanted her to know so that she could make her own choice, and she has. You will not interfere.

  “But, if she is in trouble— “

  YOU WILL NOT INTERFERE!

  Even in his dream, Brin cowered under the weight of Tolah’s command.

  “Do I have no choice? Is it only the humans that are given the power to choose?”

  Obey me in this. Someday, if you are true, you may get your wish.

  “My wish to get to choose for myself?”

  All of your wishes, Brin’du Drak’Tir. Now, question me no more.

  “Tolah, I don’t understand. All of my wishes?”

  But there was only silence.

  Chapter 33

  Tabitha hobbled around on the crutch that had been fashioned for her, shouting encouragement and instruction to Logan as he circled, trying to stay clear of Brint’s longer reach, looking for an opening of his own. In the weeks since they’d been there, they were no closer to solving the mystery of the prophecy, but the time had not been ill-spent. Tabitha was now able to bear a bit of weight on the ankle, though the healers cautioned her against doing too much too fast. Time, they said, was her ally.

  Logan was getting much better with the sword Gabriel had gifted him. He and Brint practiced most of the day away. Her brother no longer fought left-handed, and while Logan could not yet match Brint’s years of practice, he was learning fast. More than once, Brint had commented that he thought the sword itself might have something to do with Logan’s rapid progress. Logan did not confirm or deny that assertion to her brother, but to Tabby, he had confided that he thought Darach Croi might be right. He said the weapon seemed easy in his hand, and sometimes, when he would mean to do one thing, he would find himself doing something else, and he would block a move that would most assuredly have been a hit. Not always, he told her, but enough so that he'd noticed it was more than a coincidence. It was, he said, as if he were taking instruction from Brint and the sword, both.

  Holly, who had been sullen and secretive when they'd first arrived, was back to her normal, pleasant self. Whatever had triggered the pensive mood seemed to have passed. She was once more spending her time with them instead of wandering the forests alone. She almost always came to watch the men as they practiced and sympathized with Tabitha when she bemoaned the fact that she was unable to join them.

  Tabitha was surprised to find that now that she'd discovered she had a Breken ability she was anxious to explore and develop that skill. It wasn’t so much that she liked fighting any more than she ever had, only that it no longer seemed like something being forced upon her.

  “Enough!” Brint said. He held up his hand. Sweat ran down the sides of his face. “Let’s take a break.”

  Logan agreed quickly and moved to Tabitha’s side. He wrapped his arms around her and lifted her a few inches from the ground before kissing her soundly.

  “Ew, Logan! You’re all sweaty! Put me down!”

  “Yes, please stop groping my sister.”

  “He’s only doing it to annoy you, Brint,” Holly said from her place in the shade.

  “I know it, and if I weren’t such a patient and tolerant man, I would put an end to it.”

  “No way,” Logan shot back. “If you tried, it would only encourage me to find more creative ways to show my affection.” Logan set her down gently and brushed the hair away from her face.

  “Brint,” Tabby said, eyeing her brother. “Why are you smiling like that? You look like the fox that has gotten after the chickens.”

  “I was thinking about how much I can’t wait to introduce Logan to Father. It’s a little something I like to contemplate when he's being his most annoying.” Brint drew the dipper from a bucket of cool water, poured some over his head, took another scoop, and began to drink.

  Tabby rolled her eyes. “Father is as gentle and kind as any man living. He will adore Logan.”

  Brint spit water in every direction, almost choking on it. “Father is Breken!” he said, after the coughing had subsided. “He's gentle and kind to you, Tabby, because you are his favorite.”

  “I am not! Mother and Father have always liked you best. You are their perfect son, just like both of them, in every way.” She meant to say the words in a joking way, but when they came out of her mouth, they sounded almost bitter.

  “You don’t really believe that, do you, Tabitha?” Brint looked at her with something like stunned disbelief.

  “No, of course not. I was only kidding,” she said, flashing him a tight smile.

  “Tabby, you must know they love you dearly. You and Mother are so alike, even though Logan was right about one thing—you really don’t have her temperament. Besides, Father adores you. You've always been his princess. Surely you see that.”

  She felt foolish. She'd ruined the moment with her insecurity and jealousy, and forced Brint to say these things to make her feel better.

  “I told you, Brint, I was only kidding around. Really. You know what? Why don’t we go for a swim? Holly's finished our new dresses, and I want to be clean before wearing them for the first time.”

  Brint turned in Holly’s direction. “I didn’t know you had been working on dresses. Why didn’t I know that?”

  “Not just dresses. I made clothes for you, too.”

  “Me? Whatever for?”

  Holly giggled. “Well, that’s one reason,” she said as she pointed to his legs.

  The Etrafarians had seen to
all their needs and that included providing them with clothing. It worked, but it was not what they were used to, and the pants were ridiculously short and far too tight on Brint. Typical of a man, however, he didn’t seem to notice—if he had something to put on in the morning, it was good enough for him. The skirt they'd given Tabitha to wear was a bit snug around the middle, and the hem only came to slightly below her knees. Holly faired a little better, since she was not much taller than what was normal for an Etrafarian. Tabby had been there when Liam offered to have new clothes made, but Holly had declined the offer, saying that material would be sufficient, and she wanted something to keep her busy, besides. She did take Liam up on the offer of new boots, though. Footwear was the only thing the Fairies wore that was made of leather. They would cure and tan the hides of animals that had died of natural causes, when they could find them before something else got to them first.

  Brint looked down at his legs and took note of the rather significant gap between where his pants ended and his boots began and he shrugged. “Looks okay to me,” he said, but Tabby saw her brother flush, as if he'd only just realized how silly he looked. “But since you went to all the trouble, I wouldn’t mind a new pair.”

  “I've made a shirt for you, too. I thought you might enjoy something a little less traveled.”

  Now Brint really did blush. He might have been able to squeeze into the Etrafarian pants, but the shirt was another story. He had been forced to wear what he had with him, and though he had washed it frequently, some of the stains and odors were well past the point where soap and water were of any benefit.

  “A swim sounds nice,” he agreed. “I'll go ask someone for some soap and towels and we can—”

  Brint stopped speaking as one of the Etrafarians came jogging in their direction, bearing a stack of thick towels and several bars of soap.

  “That's just uncanny,” Brint said under his breath, but he thanked the man who seemed beside himself with pleasure at having been able to do for them.

  ***

  “I had fun today, Tabitha.” Holly was brushing her hair in an effort to remove the tangles and make it dry faster.