Vengeance From The Dark (D'Vaire Book 3)

by Jessamyn Kingley

  “If we honor the warlocks, then we should also put up a plaque to commemorate all the lives of the Cwylld lost,” Dre’Kariston added in a somber tone.

  “It should be translated into Braille so Edion can read it too,” Dra’Kaedan said.

  “You guys are really amazing. That’s perfect,” Brogan replied and Aleksander couldn’t help but agree.

  “Thank you, Aleksander. Your idea of honoring our parents is beautiful,” Dre’Kariston said.

  “You’re very welcome; it’s long overdue.”

  “What’s long overdue is finding a way to heal Edion. Why can’t we fix his ear or cure his blindness?” Dra’Kaedan asked. Aleksander was unsurprised by the subject change. Dra’Kaedan preferred to divert attention when he was sad. The tone in the room had grown pensive as the twins had to be swamped with old memories of their lives before the war with the Cwylld elven.

  “Edion has told you he’s not troubled by being blind, especially now that he can do so much for himself. There’s nothing wrong with having what others see as a disability,” Aleksander reminded Dra’Kaedan.

  “I know that and I agree, but it’s a mystery and I can’t deal with mysteries. Blindness aside, we should at least be able to mend his ear, and his face is strangely shaped. The left side bulges out and yet when we cast spells on him to try and fix it, the magic just goes right through him,” Dra’Kaedan began and then pursed his lips at his mate. Aleksander knew Brogan was in for it. “You know it’s kind of like when Brogan and I first found out we were mates and every bit of logic went right through him. The only things that popped out of his mouth were pure idiocy.”

  Brogan quirked a brow at the small warlock and said, “I don’t believe setting someone on fire is logical.”

  Aleksander let loose a chuckle at his friend’s words as he ran a hand through his shoulder-length black-and-blue hair to push a few pesky strands out of his face. After one particular conversation, Dra’Kaedan had lost his fiery temper and Brogan had come out of the altercation quite singed.

  “Anyway, I contacted the leader of the druids, Aloisa the Dwyer, to see if they could assist us. The druids heal people every day but I got back a very firm no,” Dre’Kariston said, wisely ignoring his brother and Brogan’s antics.

  “Aloisa the Dwyer? Have we met her?” Aleksander didn’t remember the name so he doubted he had, but the twins as Council leaders spent more time at Council Headquarters.

  “No, but Vadimas suggested we contact her,” Dre’Kariston replied, referring to the wizard ruler who was a good friend of the D’Vaires.

  “He had no ideas? He’s usually full of them.”

  “Vadimas believes knowing how Edion lost his sight will help us find a solution. The problem is, Edion has no memories of that time. According to Vadimas, it’s not all that unusual. Elves, although they have an indeterminate lifespan and therefore are considered immortal, can possibly suffer from illnesses.”

  “Let’s just get Vadimas on the phone so he can explain,” Dra’Kaedan said and Aleksander was dialing before the words were even out of the warlock’s mouth. Once the Prism Wizard was on the phone, the group greeted him warmly before firing out the first question.

  “Learned anything new regarding elves and their illnesses?” Dra’Kaedan asked.

  “I have confirmed that elven illnesses do exist although they are very rare.”

  “Great, what kind of illnesses?” Dre’Kariston asked.

  “Not a great deal of information about specific illnesses can be found in the literature. Many doctors and researchers have tried to study elven maladies, but there are no known living elves with lingering issues. It seems they think it is most likely a single or perhaps two viruses that once killed many elven and left those that did survive with loss of vision or hearing or even taste. However, with none of these elves alive, it is impossible to test for antibodies. Personally, I always believed the viruses had died out with the last of its victims, but Edion may prove me wrong.”

  “So perhaps it attacks the brain or nervous system and that’s why our magic doesn’t touch it?” Dra’Kaedan asked. He’d explained to Aleksander that magic was known to heal nearly everything a sorcerer or shifter could suffer from unless it involved the brain or spinal cord. Healers had yet to figure out how to cast spells to penetrate those parts of the body.

  “It could be. Ideally, we would like to run tests on Edion to determine if it is some virus that has ravaged his sight, but I don’t know how he would feel about being—essentially—a guinea pig.”

  “He’s still acclimating to life as an independent person. I hate to ask that of him but at the same time, I realize it’s his choice to make,” Aleksander said.

  “That theory goes nowhere toward explaining how we have the same lack of success in fixing his ear at the very least. A broken ear is cartilage, skin, and blood vessels,” Dre’Kariston added.

  “Very true, and I still can think of nothing that would prevent your magic from healing him,” Vadimas replied. “I did consider dark magic. After all, Edion is not only missing his vision but also the pupils and irises of both eyes. I cannot find anything which would explain this anomaly. However, one weakness in the dark magic theory is I don’t believe Edion is in pain as you were, Dra’Kaedan.” Carvallius had used dark magic spells to strip Dra’Kaedan of his identity and allow Latarian full access to his magic. It had caused Dra’Kaedan daily pain for over six and a half centuries before he had finally been rid of the spells.

  “No, he says he is not in any pain,” Dra’Kaedan confirmed.

  “You’re a light caster, Dra’Kaedan. Elves don’t weave magic, so he wouldn’t have the light-versus-dark battle waging in his body all day causing the pain in the first place. I don’t think we can rule that theory out,” Dre’Kariston said.

  “Well, elves don’t remove their clothing for anyone but their mates, so how am I going to search him for the mark of the spell?” Dra’Kaedan asked with his head cocked to the side.

  “I guess we’ll have to come up with a way to search for dark magic without stripping him of his clothes and dignity.”

  “An honorable idea. Any clue how to begin the search?” Vadimas asked.

  “Not a one.”

  “Gentlemen, it would appear we still have our work cut out for us,” Vadimas said and drew the conversation to its inevitable end. They said their good-byes and Aleksander shooed everyone out of his office so he could get back to the business of making money for his crazy household.

  Chapter 4

  “Cadlyr, what progress have you made in locating Latarian and the boy wizard?” Chieftain Aniernan asked from his usual spot in the smoky hut he shared with his mate. Cadlyr shifted his weight from one foot to the other and leaned more heavily on his spear.

  “I’m afraid I have made little progress in tracking them,” Cadlyr said.

  “It has been months since they stole from us. Today, another couple left the village fearing for their safety without the stones here to protect them. We are now a tribe of only three. Something more must be done,” Chieftess Taliya said in a voice bordering on hysteria.

  “I will do as you ask,” Cadlyr said. It was the same thing he had been saying to them for nearly a thousand years. Once it had been his honor alone that demanded he fulfill his duties as a warrior for his chieftains. Then Chieftain Aniernan and Chieftess Taliya had asked him to do the unthinkable, to help them arrange to kidnap their own son from his mate. When Cadlyr had refused to assist them, the dark warlock Carvallius had cast a spell upon him. He was unable to defy any order and the chieftains had a stone imbued with the power to summon Cadlyr from wherever he wandered. His life was at the mercy of their whims.

  “The gardens must be tended so we have plenty to eat. You will split your search and spend half your time searching for the thieves and the other hunting down the elves that have left. All six couples used the fertility serum we got from the warlock and the wizard. They now have young ones; we need all of them back
to begin rebuilding the might of the Cwylld tribe,” Chief Aniernan said and Cadlyr really wanted to roll his lavender eyes. There weren’t enough hours in a day to fulfill all the tasks they had laid out for him. How could he find the time to garden, find two missing sorcerers, and all the scattered elves? Not to mention he knew so little about farming, he could only hope he managed not to kill all the plants.

  “I can garden in the morning and then begin my searches each day,” Cadlyr suggested.

  “After you finish tending the plants, you must prepare food for us. Then you will begin your searches,” the chief replied. Cadlyr would have to clean and cut up portions of their simple fare for the three of them to eat over the course of the day.

  “There is a chance I may not be able to bring the warlock and wizard back alive. They are sorcerers and can teleport away. I would be unable to follow,” Cadlyr said.

  “We had no plans to celebrate their arrival in the village with a great feast. Their fate was sealed when they dared to steal our special rocks. Whether you kill them when you find them or bring them here to die makes no difference to me. My only concern is for the stones. We must have them back,” Chief Aniernan said.

  “Of course, Chieftain. Thank you. You have vanquished my worries,” Cadlyr began. “What of Edion?”

  “Edion,” Chief Aniernan said the name thoughtfully as he leaned back against the earthen wall behind him. He lifted his hand to his chin and rubbed it as he looked toward the top of the hut.

  “Yes, he is with the warlock and the wizard. When they die, he will be alone. I doubt he will be able to care for himself.”

  “I know full well where he is. Did I not trade him for a stone to be rid of his foul presence?” the tribe leader snarled at Cadlyr.

  “Can we not just kill him, Aniernan?” Chieftess Taliya asked. Cadlyr bit his lip and bent his head slightly forward as her words resonated through him. It was her son she spoke so callously about killing. Once, the elf now known as Edion had been Cadlyr’s best friend. They were brothers too, but Cadlyr had never been able to acknowledge that connection. He also had to live with the fact that he had contributed to Edion-who-used-to-be-called-Talfryn’s suffering. Worse still––blinded, misshapen, and with no recollection of his former life, Talfryn had no idea that somewhere his part-demon, part-elf mate lived.

  “His mate lives, still. We have no way of knowing how many other Acwellan survived the war,” Chieftain Aniernan said. In the deep part of Cadlyr’s soul that mourned his own actions against Talfryn, a dark thrill raced through him at the sound of fear in the chieftain’s voice. Even after nearly a thousand years, the Cwylld still feared the Acwellan tribe.

  “Their bodies littered the earth after we found the magic stealing stones. Surely it is only the Acwellan chief that lives still. Perhaps we should have Cadlyr search for him as well. If we kill him, it will take care of Edion,” the Chieftess replied. Cadlyr looked down at his feet and blew out a breath. Surely the pair could not want him to add another thing to his growing list of daily duties, he thought with an internal shake of his head.

  “Cadlyr is no match for that demonspawn, and we have need of him here. He is of little use to us dead.”

  “Aniernan, promise me—when the stones have been returned to us, we will seek out the Acwellan and end the last of them. Otherwise Edion will return to the village, and you know how his presence bothers me,” Chieftess Taliya begged. Cadlyr began to feel sick to his stomach, even though it was not the first time his Chieftess had complained about her son living among them. When Latarian and the boy wizard had sold them their fertility serum so many months ago, the chieftains had decided not to use it themselves. Cadlyr knew they feared they would give birth to another child that would be as great of a disappointment to them as both Cadlyr and Talfryn had been. All Cadlyr’s memories of his youth with Talfryn had been one of an easygoing and likable boy. His only mistake had been one out of his control: his parents had hated his mate. Cadlyr’s mate was similarly disliked, but that elf had killed himself rather than be tied to his sorry self.

  “I promise you, Taliya, after Cadlyr brings home the stones, we shall ask him to end Edion’s miserable life. With the stones’ help, we will then rid ourselves of any Acwellan who arrive on Cwylld land to avenge their chieftain,” Aniernan replied before leaning over and planting a kiss on the mouth of Taliya. He then looked toward Cadlyr and said, “Why have you not left to attend your many duties? Be off.”

  “And the Acwellan we keep in the cave? The one with the warlock? What of them?” Cadlyr asked. The two men had slept for centuries and were alive only to be used as bargaining chips for Lorcan or the twin warlocks that had disappeared at the time the Cwylld were busy systematically killing their brethren. Cadlyr had luckily missed out on taking part in the genocide—he had been ordered to guard his chieftains.

  “Did I not just tell you to attend to your duties?”

  “I shall resume my search,” Cadlyr promised before giving the pair a small bow and heading out of their hut. The results of both searches asked of him were going to be futile, and Cadlyr found that he cared not at all. Edion deserved so much more than the life his parents had forced on him, Cadlyr thought as he often had over the centuries.

  It was often easier to think of him as Edion, to forget he had once been a chieftain in his own right. Cadlyr wanted to forget he had ever been Talfryn, for he knew that should the poor blind elf ever regain his lost memories he would never be able to forgive Cadlyr for all he had done. Dark magic had forced Cadlyr to do wicked things, but using the spell on his back as an excuse? He knew it would be of little comfort to someone who had been robbed of a thousand years of life with his mate. Forcing himself to put one foot in front of the other, Cadlyr began walking the woods as he searched in vain for people he had no desire to find.

  Chapter 5

  A week after Dra’Kaedan threw up his magical barrier around the D’Vaire estate, Edion found himself being drawn to the very edge of his new family’s land. He could not decipher why he was compelled to walk so far past Dravyn’s garden, but Edion kept going. Soon an electric buzz swept over his skin that signaled he was nearing the Grand Warlock’s perimeter. Slowing his feet, Edion soon stood still and wondered again what he was doing. Before he could find an answer to that question, he heard a faint voice.

  “Talfryn? Talfryn, what have they done to you?” a deep voice asked from somewhere in front of Edion. It was a gravelly voice and the words were said gruffly but he found he liked the sound of it. “Will you not answer me, Talfryn?”

  “I’m sorry, I do not know your Talfryn,” Edion said in a small voice as he began to wring his hands. He hoped he did not upset this stranger.

  “How could you be so deceived? You are Talfryn. Are you calling me a liar?” The voice sounded angry to Edion and he began to weigh the merit of returning to the safety of the large house.

  “You are mistaken. I-I am going to leave you now.”

  “Stop. I did not mean to frighten you. By what name are you called?” This time the voice was soft and while still brusque, Edion was comforted by it.

  “I am Edion D’Vaire.”

  “D’Vaire is not an elven name.”

  “No…D’Vaire is draconic.”

  “How does an elf become a dragon, young Edion?” The voice now sounded amused. He dropped his hands to his sides and cocked his head slightly.

  “You call me young, yet I must tell you I have lived over a millennium. The dragons have given me a home; that is how this elf became a dragon,” Edion said. He didn’t know where his braveness to talk so boldly to this stranger was coming from, but he liked the feeling.

  “I, too, have lived over a millennium. Something tells me my years outmatch yours. You call this a home of dragons, and yet a magical wall separates us.”

  “You are very curious about me and I do not yet know your name.”

  “I am Lorcan,” the voice replied after a long pause which caused Edion to wonder if th
e man had left him standing there alone. He was glad his question had not ended the exchange.

  “You know of elven names. Are you elven, Lorcan?”

  “Like you, I was once.”

  “We need not speak of our former tribes then,” Edion said with relief. The Cwylld were not well-liked or respected. If Lorcan found out about who he had been born to, he would probably not think highly of him.

  “We cannot escape the past, Edion. It grips you by the throat, and like a hungry wolf never lets go.”

  “Your words tell me your past was not a contented one. Mine too was filled with pain, but I wish to be happy. I cannot do that if I do not let my memories fade.”

  “You are right. I have suffered much. The pain, it has blocked out any memory of a time in which I was happy.” To Edion, it was obvious by the despair in Lorcan’s voice that his words were ones of truth. Although they had just met, he found himself wishing he could offer Lorcan some words of comfort.

  “I have no words of ease, but I would offer you my friendship. Perhaps together we could find a way to help give you hope.”

  “I wish I had your faith. My heart is beyond black. Yet, I find your offer appealing. Maybe we could spend some time together now.” Edion was thrilled he had pleased Lorcan and he found that he wanted the friendship of this elf.

  “I would like that.”

  “Would you sit with me here on the other side of your magical prison?” Lorcan’s voice had gone from miserable to nearly hopeful in the last few minutes, but to Edion it now sounded a bit oily.

  “Nothing about my home resembles a prison. I think it is time for me to leave you.”

  “Just moments ago, you said you wished to be my friend. Is it so usual for you to change your mind so quickly? To turn your back on those that ask so little of you?” Now Lorcan’s voice was full of anger, and Edion began to feel fear. He knew so little of this elf. After all, they had just met. It made no sense that Lorcan would feel so betrayed by the idea of Edion refusing to leave the safety of Dra’Kaedan’s magical barrier. He refused to extend an invitation to the other man to cross into D’Vaire land; he knew only too well Brogan’s stance on strangers. He was not willing to face the wrath of the rest of the D’Vaires just yet. Perhaps if Lorcan and Edion were to get to know each other better, he could consider discussing the possibility of allowing him to visit the house.