by RJ Scott
Darach needed to get home, away from the Valley, or over to the Otherworld and Kian. On more than one occasion during supper, he made the effort to form the sentence in his head. Nothing happened. In spite of his feelings to the contrary, if he returned home, how would he learn more of Kian? What would happen to him back in the City? Would the Council exact punishment for his disobedience by removing his Fire? Was he doomed to remain here with these criminals in this village? And why did they not look more like the illustrations from the books he had read as a child? Rough and raw and ready to kill they were not.
In fact, they were clean, tidy, friendly, and smiling. Not one of them had leered at him, propositioned him, threatened him, or indeed done anything to suggest he was not a simple guest here. He listened and learned as much as he could from what he heard. They appeared to be a community of farmers, living from the land in this beautiful valley. Peaceful and calm, they used nature to its fullness, and the valley itself was warded against intruders. There were groups of Cariad spread out in this world, all communities living in apparent peace, and what he noticed most was that not one person who spoke used words of fear or intimidation. Years of hearing the worst and then being presented with reality made Darach uneasy. He had compartmentalized the Cariad into the same box as the devils in the night and the ghosts from old criminals, and it was hard to let the instinct to fear go.
They discussed why Darach had been looking for Ceithin. He was relying on Cariad assistance to pass over to the Otherworld. They looked at each other, looked at him, and told him they would show him the way to cross, but there was tension for a short while, Ceithin stubbornly refusing to admit why he had been in the City in the first place. The evening had closed in, a bright late autumn moon the only light they used in the corridors that spread from the main cabin, a rabbit warren of small rooms and halls. Quaint, rambling, old, and solid, it was unlike anything he had lived in before.
Brigid led him to a small side room with a comfortable pallet, and he really did try to sleep, despite the contradictions and thoughts in his head. His Fire was restless, uncertain, flickering behind his eyes, nagging at him, tracing impatient lines of blue along his bare skin. With a huff of exasperation, he sat up and rubbed the sparks away. Maybe getting some air would help? He pulled on his pants and a jacket over his sleep shirt to go and find somewhere he wouldn't feel so damn unsettled. Opening the door gently, he walked down the main corridor. The cabin was in peace, darkness, and he let himself out of the front door. There was no purpose or destination to the course he took, and he wandered aimlessly until the clouds covering the large full moon shifted to let moonbeams light the edge of the river and the beginning of the slopes of the valley. That something as beautiful as this place existed so close to the City and he had never even known of its existence was a shock.
Voices carried on the air, and the words reached him long before he consciously realized he was listening. Ceithin was there, and Darach caught the end of a sentence, shouted words, and the other voice he identified as Ceithin's father.
"…you think he would want you to die for him?" Llewellyn sounded so damn sad.
"Don't say that, you don't know—"
"How close were you, Ceithin? How close to dying, losing your Fire?"
"I wasn't!" Ceithin's voice was so loud he was close to shouting.
By direct contrast, Llewellyn's voice was modulated and calm, ringing with the certainty of knowledge, of great grief averted by a hair's breadth. "I saw you. Ceithin, they were so close to pulling your Fire out of you, and for what? To follow up some nebulous speculation about your brother?" Darach strained to hear Llewellyn, inching closer in the shadow of the cabin.
"He had been there, Dad. I sensed it as truth when I heard—"
"Ceithin, it's been seven years. Your brother is dead."
"No. I would know if he was dead." Whatever Ceithin was saying, Llewellyn didn't appear to be listening.
"Your mother was out of her mind with fear for you."
"Don't throw Mom at me. She wants to know what happened to Trystyn as much as I do."
"Not at the expense of her other son."
"I'm going—"
"I forbid it." For the first time, Llewellyn's voice rose a fraction.
"I'm a grown man. As soon as we work on his element, I am crossing." Crossing where? Darach was confused. What was Llewellyn forbidding?
"You have brought back the exact person who—"
The voices stopped, the silence sudden, and Darach shrank back into the shadows.
"You do know I can feel you." Ceithin's voice was so close Darach jumped and twirled to face the other man. How the hell had he gotten behind him? He glanced past Ceithin and couldn't see any sign of Llewellyn, but he definitely could see Ceithin smirking.
He moved back a step. He had never been able to clearly sense other Fires. There had been the spark of connection when he and Ceithin had touched in the cave and through the tunnel, and then through the fight in the woods. At those moments his blue had sought out Ceithin, inquisitive and persistent. Now there was nothing, just this buzzing in his ears and a sense of shame he had been caught eavesdropping.
"I didn't mean to…" To what? Listen? Pry? Learn? He wasn't sure what he was apologizing for.
Ceithin took a step closer and then another until they were nothing but a breath apart. "Close your eyes," Ceithin said simply.
"No."
"Close your eyes," Ceithin insisted quietly. "I want to show you something."
Darach narrowed his gaze suspiciously. Was this going to be like the jokes his big brother had played on him when he was a child?
"Trust me."
Darach didn't trust this Cariad as far as he could throw him, which, given his extra height and muscle weight, wouldn't be far. Still, something in his voice and expression invited him to trust, and his Fire didn't seem disturbed by whatever was going on. So he closed his eyes.
"Can you see me?" Ceithin asked.
"My eyes are shut." Idiot. He didn't say the word out loud but he heard Ceithin sigh.
"Ignore what you see with your eyes. Let your Fire loose. Track me." His voice sounded fainter, as if he moved away slightly, and Darach had prickles of apprehension skittering along his spine. Breathing deeply, he settled his curiosity and emotions so he could let his Fire wander undisturbed. It uncoiled from his spine, traveling through his veins, sparking on his skin, pushing insistently in him. In theory, he knew what he needed to do. He needed to let his Fire have free rein. As Ceithin had said, let it loose.
What Darach didn't want to admit to anyone, least of all to one of the Cariad, was that, apart from his pre-Fire training and his pathetic attempt at magik in the prison, he hadn't really explored his capabilities.
He winced as Ceithin encouraged him, if calling "get a move on, youngling" counted as encouragement. Cautiously, he allowed his Fire to move to his hands, the warm touch reassuring. He could see the blue behind his closed eyes and it was fascinating, prisms of sapphire and diamond ice, white so pure it hurt to focus on it. Then, as it expanded and he was able to picture the low cabin, an answering tendril of red touched him, creeping into a corner of the cerulean vista in his mind. The color touched him and tapped, as insistent as the man who controlled it.
"Follow me, Darach. This way."
His body moved, his legs stiff. He stumbled, taken by surprise. Was his Fire guiding him? He tensed, resisting, and his Fire sparked brightly. Even his Fire was pissed at him. Breathing deeply of the clean night air, he concentrated on knowing his Fire wasn't going to lead him to the edge of a cliff.
He made his way forward for a time, his hands extended in front of him, his eyes tightly closed for every step. At last, when he realized his Fire wouldn't lead him astray, he started to relax. The crimson bleeding into his own color glowed deeper, brighter, closer. Abruptly, he realized he could actually feel the heat of it.
Violet was the blended color. For the first time since Eoin had died and
Kian had left, peace began to trickle into him. He had been so alone, so on his own, his only family a brother who was never there. But until his and Ceithin's colors blended, he'd kept from himself how truly lonely he'd been. Suddenly the scarlet swallowed all of the blue and panic slipped in where only calm had sat before. Desperate, he opened his eyes, blinking at the sudden change from interior fireworks to the inky black of unlit night.
Ceithin stood in front of him. Gone was the all-too-familiar smirk or smug expression Darach had come to expect. The Cariad looked different. Tired. Shocked? It was difficult to tell. A sensation tugged at Darach, low in his stomach; he was growing aroused, his dick at half mast and uncomfortable in the confines of his clothes.
Clearly, the Fire connection had some kind of weird effect on a person's body. He swayed on his feet, consciously forcing himself to stop leaning towards Ceithin. He was not feeling sexual attraction to Ceithin Morgan. He just wasn't.
"What did you see?" Ceithin asked finally, and Darach swallowed.
"My Fire, blue, then yours, the red, and then violets and purples so vivid—"
"White?" Ceithin interrupted. "Did you see white?"
"You can't actually see—"
"Darach, for Annwn sake."
"White in the blue, like shards of glass or diamonds."
Ceithin visibly deflated at these words, and with a muffled curse, he sat on the ground and crossed his legs, resting his chin on joined hands balanced on his knees. He was silent, and Darach had moved past being uncomfortable and was now focusing on his acute embarrassment. What kind of man described white as diamonds or glass? He may not fill traditional procreation roles, but he was a damn man, not some poetry writing girl.
"Can you sit a while, Darach?"
"I'm tired." Darach really was tired, he knew he would sleep like the dead if he got the chance to go back to his nice comfy bed.
"Just a minute." Ceithin wasn't exactly pleading, but his words weren't unkind, so with little thought, Darach acquiesced, settled himself opposite, and waited. "Did a seer pronounce for you when you were born?" Ceithin's question was direct and to the point.
"Yes, for me and Kian and Eoin in the same pronouncement."
"Kian told us about his Hunter. What was pronounced for you?"
"That I would fall from grace." Darach had had twenty-one years to come to terms with the fact, assuming his sexuality or helping Kian on some weird-ass teenage quest would bring his downfall. He never expected involvement with a Cariad would bring about the end of him.
"Fall from grace?" Ceithin tilted his head as he repeated what Darach had said. For a second Darach wished the moon was brighter so he could properly see the expression on Ceithin's face and in his eyes. "That isn't all of it, is it? Not just those few words. Did they say anything about who you would be with? Who your bond would be?" Ceithin tripped over the question, his voice showing a level of nervousness Darach had never seen before in him. Darach inhaled deeply, the rush of night air comforting, warm, scented with the water and the forest that ringed them.
"They said I would be with a carrier of healer Fire, red Fire." There, it was simply said.
"You want to know what was pronounced at my birth?"
"Cariad have a seer too?" Darach immediately wished he could retract the inane comment. Knowing the Cariad, they had ten seers or a hundred seers. Ceithin didn't seem angry though. He simply shook his head.
"We don't need what you call a seer. Your seers are actually just Cariad descendants with lesser ability. We have our parents who know what is ahead for us."
"Your parents?" Darach really tried to imagine his parents being able to see anything of his future, but he couldn't picture them being different from what they had always been.
"Well, mine was simple. They knew from the day I was born I would be with another man."
"Isn't knowing your future that clearly giving you some kind of self-fulfilling prophecy?" Darach prided himself on his grasp of the right words.
"Not really. I wasn't told until I was sixteen, but by then I had realized for myself anyway. A man with blue fire, the Water element, but our union would lead to greatness if the bond was made."
Blue? It is just a coincidence I have blue, and I am attracted to men?
Ceithin continued, and this time, his chin rose and his hands smoothed gentle Fire in his palms. "There was more, you know. Images I see that I know must be from the beginning of me, a Fire so bright that when sapphire blue mixes with mine it makes a shade of violet I had never seen in nature. Then there was the white…"
He held out one hand, Fire skimming the surface. Unbidden, Darach held out his own hand, a small trace of sapphire coloring his skin. When Ceithin closed his hand around Darach's, it was as if Darach's whole being reacted, violently and from the core of him. Violet sparks snapped again, and tiny dancing flecks spiraled up like the floating embers from a dying fire.
"Darach…" Ceithin rolled the name on his tongue and dropped his gaze. "Tell me why you came to find me."
"You already know. I read in Kian's journal—"
"I mean, why chance Guardian, the Council, the prison, why try and find a Cariad?"
Darach paused before he could begin to formulate an answer. Nothing inside him told him to go to the prison. It was only luck that allowed him to evade Guardian's watch. And the all-seeing, all-knowing Council? They could have seen him at any time, stopped him at any time, yet nothing had stopped him. He had even considered the fact that deep at the root of it he had some kind of death wish. He'd just been so alone since Kian had gone, and the nightmares he had been having of Kian in an alleyway, blood all around him, his green Fire dying… "I just want to bring Kian home."
"Bring him home? Or just be with him?"
What was Ceithin implying? He wanted to bond with Kian physically, sexually? Is that what he thought? "Not be with him. He is my blood brother, and I miss him so much."
"So much you chanced so many different deaths?" Ceithin moved his fingers, tracing unknown patterns on the palm of Darach's hand, and Darach shivered.
"I didn't even consider being caught." Ceithin realized he was telling the truth, and it startled him. "I just knew I had to follow what Kian wrote in his journal. Besides, death isn't something I am scared of." Darach tried to sound brave and confident, but his Fire told otherwise as it receded back into him.
"What you heard tonight, between myself and my father… I chanced death to find my brother. In my heart, I thought maybe the Council would find me and want my Fire. Still, I know the Council had something to do with my brother, Trystyn, disappearing."
"Do you have proof it was them?"
"No, not tangible evidence," he hastened to add, "I just know. Trystyn had the same amber as Father, stronger than Father, though. He was impossibly strong. There was no way he was going to avoid the Council's considering gaze."
"The members of the Council say the Cariad are impure. Why would they go against their own rules and come anywhere near you?"
"Amber is so rare; it's the strongest of the Fires and gives longer life, plus a connection to all the elements. It is power, and it isn't always passed from parent to child. There may be one or two in an entire generation, and often they appear to die in the Fire when it is born. It is too much for their physical form."
"Like Eoin."
"Like your Eoin…"
At least Ceithin acknowledged the loss with compassion, and Darach half closed his eyes as images of the burning bit him hard.
"Are you okay?"
"Fine—go on." Darach pushed the memories back where they belonged.
"It's dying, you know. I sensed it when I was there. The Fire in the Council members, Sulien, the others, their amber is dying. It's little more than ashes of brown and mud. If they are going to live any longer, they need new Fire. They tried to take mine. It's not as strong as amber, but it is healing Fire, and it has the Ancients' power twisted into it. It could have maintained them for a while."
"If Eoin had lived… do you think they would they have taken him for his Fire?" Realization coursed through Darach as he spoke. Somewhere between wanting to use Cariad Fire for his own purposes, hating the Cariad as leeches on normal society, meeting Ceithin, and the last few minutes, something fundamental had changed inside him.
Unspoken was the fact he had accepted as truth the Council had taken Trystyn, stolen the brother and son for their own use. It unnerved him to think his formerly unshakeable faith in the Council was being rocked by the things he was learning from Ceithin. He had spent so many years fearing the Cariad, hating them, thinking they were aberrations and here he was, forgetting it all. What about this man shook his faith so cleanly?
Ceithin had taken a moment to consider Darach's question, and Darach held his breath. Temper began to climb inside him, temper and not a small amount of thinking the Council he trusted had betrayed him.
"Maybe. I don't know. Council members need amber Fire."
"And you have never found Trystyn?"
"No. I had no sense of him in the City when I was there and I couldn't read anything in the Council. I can't even see his Fire inside me." Ceithin stopped, bowed his head and clenched a fist against his chest over his heart. "I am convinced he's crossed to the Otherworld, either by choice, or by force."
Ceithin sounded so sad. It physically hurt Darach to see others in pain. It always had. But he sensed a shadow of the other man's pain inside himself, and the reaction it evoked was primitive and intense. How would he himself have felt if his brother was missing, if he had no idea of where he could be, or even if he was alive? He pushed the reaction down. He had questions he needed to ask, and now it seemed Ceithin was ready to give answers.
"He wouldn't choose to cross, would he? No one would choose that. Kian only went because one of the Eicio that escaped through to that side."
"Maybe it was the only way he thought he would be safe, maybe he was forced to go, but I just know he's in the same world where Kian has gone." He leaned forward, confiding in the enclosing dark. "I feel it in my bones. He's in the Otherworld with Kian and his Hunter. Maybe he is even fighting the Eicio with them."
