by E E Everly
“He fell off,” Bronwen said.
“My glepluon rammed me right into a low hanging tree,” Dad said. “I think he did it on purpose.”
“Scored you lots of sympathy points.” Bronwen pushed into Dad’s shoulder, and he wrapped an arm around her.
“Oh brother.” Then something occurred to me. “Wait a minute. You knew each other fifty years ago?”
Dad grinned sheepishly. “We’d known each other for a while by then.”
While they gushed over each other, I checked on Trysten. She was sound asleep. Her last meal must have put her into a solid milk coma. Fine by me. I might just finish watching this race and be back to the estate by the time she was hungry again.
Some of the onlookers filtered off to watch other obstacles while others gathered in preparation to see the double jumps. Everyone sat for a while, some lounging on the grass. Bronwen and Dad claimed the rock to curl up on in the meantime.
I paced. My nervousness grew as the blewogs approached. I couldn’t see how Iestyn would stick the narrow landing and then spring across the second gap with Cystenian clinging to him.
Bronwen bounded to her feet, standing on the rock. “Cystenian’s right on the tail of the first-place contestant! He must plan on passing him in the last few feet before the finish line, because there’s no way he’ll pass him before the jump.”
I hopped up the six or eight inches onto the rock beside her. Everyone rose to their feet around us. This was it. I tipped up onto my toes to see over a new onlooker who was super tall.
Iestyn picked up speed, right on the heels of the first guy. Amazingly, the first contestant leapt and barely stuck the landing before leaping and flowing seamlessly over the next gap.
Everyone clapped.
My heart was in my throat. I couldn’t believe he’d made the jump.
I bounced on my feet and almost fell into the emrys in front of me. I grabbed his shoulders to steady myself when I nearly pitched forward off the rock. “Sorry,” I blubbered. He didn’t pay me any mind though.
Iestyn leapt into the air.
I stepped to the side to see around the emrys’s big head. Stupidly, I stepped right off the rock and fell to the side. I gasped as I landed painfully on my left foot and then fell and caught myself with my wrist. “Ouch!”
The crowd gasped around me as Bronwen and Dad jumped to my aid.
But the crowd wasn’t gasping for me.
No! What was happening? Despite the pain in my wrist and ankle, I pushed myself up on my elbow to see that Iestyn had pitched over the tiny landing and had fallen into the pit. “Cystenian!”
Dad crouched next to me but looked toward Cystenian.
Iestyn clawed his way up the foot holds on the far side of the gap. They hadn’t made the second jump. Another contestant soared over Iestyn’s and Cystenian’s heads while they were on their way up.
Just as Iestyn made it to the top and bolted on with the course, Cystenian whipped his head in our direction. Though he was forty feet below us, his face was dark and filled with fury.
“Oh no,” Bronwen said as she knelt beside me.
“What?” I rubbed my throbbing ankle. “What did he say?” Bronwen had undoubtedly heard something through their bond. Cystenian must have been so pissed off that he screwed the jump up, especially after all the training he and Iestyn did.
“She’s fine. She’s fine,” Bronwen muttered to herself or, rather, to Cystenian, I thought.
“Who’s fine?” Was she talking about me? Was he asking about me? Did he know I’d hurt myself?
“He missed the jump because you fell,” Bronwen whispered as she knelt to tend my ankle. In the distance, we could hear the cheers as contestants finished the race. A few people around us were looking at me but didn’t say anything. I guessed they figured I was in good hands. They probably wondered why I was so stupid as to fall off a six-inch-high rock in the first place.
Bronwen carefully glanced around as she whispered her next words. “He felt your pain and was so startled that he shifted on Iestyn, and he lost his footing and pitched forward.”
“What? How’s that possible?”
Bronwen looked across me to Dad. He answered for her after carefully gauging her expression.
“You bonded with him, emotionally.”
THIRTY-SIX
“Are you kidding? How?” I gasped as Bronwen began manipulating my ankle. “Ow. What are you doing?”
“I’m going to heal you and take you home.” Bronwen closed her eyes as her hands closed around my ankle.
“Ow. A little more gently please!” Heat bloomed in my foot.
“Oh no.” She let go of my ankle. “Cystenian’s on his way.”
“Now?” Panic kicked me in the gut. “Why?”
“It’s okay. Everyone’s clearing out,” Dad said.
“Why does everyone need to clear out?” I asked.
“He’s going to make a scene,” Bronwen said.
“He looks angry,” Dad said.
“Can’t you head him off? It’s not my fault?” I shifted on the ground, but putting pressure on my wrist brought more pain. “Aria’s not coming with him, is she?”
“No,” Bronwen replied.
I inhaled a much-needed breath.
Aelwen knelt beside us. “Are you all right?”
No way, my brain screamed, but I had to suck it up. Bronwen and Dad had me in a panic. Bronwen was hearing Cystenian’s mad approach. She and Dad acted as if they knew what was coming, while I lay here vulnerable and freaking out.
I gingerly rolled my wrist and grimaced as I answered Aelwen. “I seemed to have sprained two things. This couldn’t be more awkward.”
“I am so glad I took Trysten for you.”
I smiled at her. “You and me both.”
Iestyn was bolting up the hillside toward us, with Cystenian, who had fire in his eyes.
Oh please, spare me.
Iestyn slid to a halt a few feet from us. Aelwen, Dad, and Bronwen were a protective shield.
“Where is she?” Cystenian roared as he stormed over.
Did he mean me?
“She’s right here.” Then Bronwen added sternly, “Get control of yourself.”
After glaring at Bronwen, his eyes found mine. I’d never seen him so angry. I met his fury as I narrowed my eyes. He seemed to gather that I was fine enough since I could match his outrage.
“Is Trysten all right?” he asked, his voice hard.
Aelwen scurried to her feet and turned so he could see Trysten. “She’s fine. I had her.”
Cystenian’s chest heaved as he took Aelwen in. He nodded and then crouched beside me. “You’re all right?”
“It was a stupid misstep,” I blubbered. “It was so dumb. I wasn’t watching where I stood.”
“That’s just the thing.” His words were sharp. “You weren’t thinking, were you?”
“It’s not my fault. It was an accident.”
“Cystenian, she is not to blame,” Dad said.
“Do you even know what I’m blaming her for?” Cystenian growled.
“No,” I said. “For what?”
“You forged an emotional bond,” he replied. “I didn’t realize it before because you had been blocking. Until Aria confronted you, and then you dropped everything.”
Oh no.
“When? When did I make a bond? How? I don’t understand.”
“When you kissed,” Dad said with a thoughtful expression and a slight nod. “I hadn’t realized it at the time because I was too concerned about the actual kiss.”
“What?” I looked back and forth between them. How could an emotional bond have been formed so easily and without my awareness? “I don’t know what I did. I’m sorry.”
“What am I supposed to do with this, Anerah?” Cystenian hissed. “I can’t have you in my head like this.”
“I… I…” Dad, help!
“I have to bond with Aria. Aria.” Cystenian drew out the syllables in her name as
if I needed the hint. “Don’t you understand? I can’t feel you and her in my head together.” Cystenian paced away.
Bronwen raced after him and stopped him. Neither one said anything out loud. They must have been having a silent conversation.
I turned to Dad, with desperation in my eyes. “Dad, how could this have happened? I don’t understand.”
“You know how you can normally feel any emrys’s emotions just by discerning with the light?” he asked.
“Yeah.”
“When you forge an emotional bond, distance no longer becomes a factor. You can feel each other at any time, even on another planet.”
“But how did I forge it?” I asked.
“You told him to feel your emotions. To feel your love.”
Feel my love. That’s what I had thought. “That was it? You must be joking.”
“Your kiss and the emotion behind it made it easy to connect.”
“I’m not feeling anything from Cystenian.”
“It was one way,” Dad said. “He feels you, but you don’t feel him.”
“Well, that’s awkward.”
Cystenian didn’t come back over. Bronwen turned away from him, and he huffed before jumping on Iestyn and charging off.
“How do we break the bond?” I asked as Bronwen joined us.
“You don’t.” She wrapped her hand around my ankle and resumed her healing.
“I don’t?” I reclined onto my back. My elbows were tired of supporting me. I put my good arm over my eyes as Dad cradled my injured wrist. It grew hot as his healing light flowed into me.
“He’s just as pissed that he flopped on the jump, isn’t he?” I asked.
“If I can assume that pissed means upset—I wasn’t going to tell you that, but he is really embarrassed.” Bronwen stroked my shin. “He was mostly worried that someone would put two and two together, that he fell because you hurt yourself and he felt it. I assured him that you would be healed before we returned to the estate and no one would be the wiser.”
Isn’t that convenient. “This is a mess.”
Nothing is ever right in this world. I hate this.
It’ll be okay, Anerah, Dad said. I promise.
You can’t make me a promise like that.
Trysten let out a meek mew. I groaned.
Chow time for my baby.
At least she was a constant I could count on.
THIRTY-SEVEN
I opened my bedroom door, late, after I heard a quiet knock. Cystenian was leaning with his forehead against the doorframe, as if coming here was hard for him and he was regretting his knock.
When he slowly, painstakingly, lifted his face and gazed into my eyes, just a foot from my face, I gasped. His eyes were bloodshot and dark shadows hung under them.
He looked tortured.
“Why are you here?” My question was loaded with all sorts of anguish. I didn’t need this. Not when we’d been doing so well at staying away from each other since the race this morning.
And I’d been doing my best to keep my emotions to myself.
“I—” He cleared his throat.
“Is this about today? Look, I wish I could undo what I did—”
“It’s not about our bond,” he cut in tersely.
“Okay… Is this about Trysten? You don’t have to worry. I’m not going to change my mind. You’ll still see your daughter.”
“I’m not here about Trysten.” The door post was practically holding Cystenian up.
“Then what is it?” I looked into the hall as I usually did when he was at my door. I couldn’t help it. It felt so wrong having him near, or in my room, when Aria was somewhere in this house, surrounded by white and lace and ready to say her vows.
Especially when she knew my feelings for him.
What if she learned of our bond? Would she break her magnanimous attitude and flip out?
I pulled Cystenian into the room and snicked the door shut.
He migrated to the center of the room and stared blankly at Trysten in her cradle. “Aria is fine with whenever Trysten’s ready to join our family,” he said with a dead voice. “She said she would love Trysten as her own.”
“That’s good, I guess.” I won’t hate Aria. I won’t hate Aria. She was a sweet person. I would have to be okay with her being Trysten’s part-time mother.
“I’ll visit her after our mis mêl,” he said.
Bronwen had told me of their month long honeymoon. I did not want to think about that.
“Aria said she would love to pop onto Earth and see what it’s like,” Cystenian said.
“Oh goodie.”
We stared at each other awkwardly. I couldn’t get a read on Cystenian. He must have been blocking his feelings, as usual. Well, he had to have been, because Aria would undoubtedly fly in here and demand to know what was wrong if his emotions were as messed up as his face appeared.
“So, if this isn’t about Trysten and it’s not about today, then what do you want?” I wanted to tell him I was packing to head to Earth, to have an excuse to be too busy for unpleasant conversations, but I didn’t have anything to pack. I wasn’t taking any of my emrys dresses. I would take just myself, and my daughter.
Was he here to give me hope of some sort?
Don’t reach, Anerah.
Perhaps our emotional bond had convinced him to change his mind about something, about us…? He had been talking about visiting Trysten after his honeymoon, so what hope could I have?
I moved toward the bed, thinking I might have to sit, or collapse, or lay down and die if Cystenian was going to keep me waiting much longer.
I supposed that when he had forever to live, these small moments were nothing.
His words were so quiet, so void of emotion when he finally spoke them, and he didn’t look at me. “I’m going to erase all memories of you.”
I stiffened.
Just like that, his words destroyed me.
Shattered me.
Maybe I was wrong. Maybe I misheard him.
“What did you say?” I asked.
“I’m going to have my memories of you erased.”
I leaned forward and gripped the bed covers as I deflated, physically and emotionally. I knew what messing with memories did. Cystenian knew darn well how I struggled to trust because of what my father did to me. How could he think of doing such a thing?
After a few deep breaths, I whirled on him. “What the heck? You can’t just erase your memories of me. How is that even possible?” I hadn’t asked Dad how he’d done it. I supposed that if I could have new memories implanted into my head, then old memories could be erased.
Cystenian didn’t react to my indignation. “It’s possible. I know an emrys who can.”
Besides my father? “Who?” Maybe Dad could talk Cystenian out of this.
“Siana. She’s my great-grandaunt,” he said. “You’re great-grandmother. I’ll go see her. She’ll erase my memories, and then I can bond with Aria safely, without worry that she’ll learn—”
“About your feelings for me,” I said. Cystenian’s indifference to this idea was inflaming me with rage, so much so that my vision was hazed over.
“That’s not what I was going to say.”
“But you do have feelings for me,” I said.
“I don’t know what I have.”
How could he be so daft?
“You’re lying to yourself!” I exclaimed.
“I’ve thought this through. I will do it.”
I slumped onto the bed, covering my mouth with my hands. He wanted to forget how we met. Forget the nine months of dreams he’d had of me. Forget how he found me half-naked on the mossy mound, clutching our newborn daughter. Forget how he made love to me and how it hurt him so badly to do it.
“It’s the only way,” he mumbled.
I jumped up and grabbed his hand. “Just admit how you feel about me.”
Cystenian turned away, toward Trysten sleeping peacefully in her cradle, but didn’t
take his hand from mine.
“This is all to honor your parents’ wishes!” I pulled on his hand with both of mine. “Just tell Aria. Tell her! It’s not worth the lies. It’s not worth your heart.”
“She wouldn’t marry me if she knew the truth.”
Duh. “Are you listening to yourself? If knowing the truth about me and Trysten is something she wouldn’t marry you over, then she’s not worth marrying.”
“It’s my best option. I can’t conceal a part of you in my mind. The barrier might break over time. The best way is to destroy the memories.”
“What if erasing your memories turns you into a turnip?”
“What are you talking about?” He turned toward me. His eyes were so weary. The stress of everything was crushing him.
My heart ached for him. I wished I could make him see sense. “You’re so desperate to be rid of me that you’d risk brain damage?”
“It’s not the physical part of the brain. That will remain intact. Siana goes into my spiritual memories.”
“Then how will you explain Trysten?” I asked.
“Exactly what we discussed. She’ll be our ward. Her family died. You’re her aunt.”
“Then you would forget she was your daughter!”
“She’s my own flesh and blood,” he said. “My soul will feel a connection to her on a level I won’t understand, so I’ll love her no matter whose child I think she is.”
“You don’t have to do this. Any of it.”
“Anerah.” He pulled his hand from mine. “I love Aria. I’ve known her for half a century. Our betrothal was expected from birth.”
“You’re saying you could never love me.” I paced away from him.
“I love you as our daughter’s mother. Our union meant something to me.”
“Not enough to remember it!”
He stepped closer and reached toward me.
I held my palm up. “Please, Cystenian, don’t.” I couldn’t bear it if he touched me or held me.
But I wanted him to. Oh, how I wanted him to.
He paused, as if torn with indecision. Before I could blink, he swept a whispering kiss onto my forehead and was out the door.
THIRTY-EIGHT
