by D. E. Morris
Wessely was outraged. “Your feathers were part of a potion made for the attacks last year.”
“It only delayed the effects, it did not end them.”
“Then delay her death!”
Cavalon bent and put his ear to Ashlynn's breast. “It may be past that.” Her breathing had nearly stopped and her heartbeat was hard to find. Wessely began to weep and held Ashlynn's limp body tightly to him. As Kenayde joined him and threw her arms around her sister, Cavalon took a step back and scrubbed a hand over his face. He felt tears fill his own eyes. How could it have come to this? Here he was losing someone else he cared about, someone who was not supposed to die. In anger he kicked what was left of the contraption she was hooked to and knocked it on its side. The vial with the potion that had been pushed into Ashlynn's veins fell over, slowly losing its thick contents and bringing the reed needle within to the surface. This was what was in her veins now. This, when what she needed was blood.
The thought came to him quickly and he acted before anyone could figure out what he was doing or stop him. Cavalon lurched forward and pulled the tube from the vial. Grasping the sticky needle where it was securely fit into the tube, he shoved it into into his own arm before anyone knew what was going on.
“Cavalon!” Nuala cried, nearly leaving Jaryn as she pressed her hands to the wound on his back.
“It's all right.” Cavalon held out a hand to stop her even as his vision swam. Whatever was in the potion was potent if it had such an instantaneous effect. But he held the needle in place and waited, relived to see the sickly yellow turn to orange and then red as Cavalon's blood flowed through into Ashlynn.
No one said a word or dared breathe. Even Jaryn, waking up with Nuala's hand gripping his, felt he could only watch. Kenayde was bold enough to take Ashlynn's hand and press it to her face, whispering to her, telling her to come back through her tears. Wessely ran a hand over Ashlynn's hair, praying in quiet words to the Great Dragon to let Ashlynn live.
Sitting back against the chair that had held her, Cavalon watched Ashlynn and counted the minutes as they passed. Her skin was still pale, her body unmoving. Her fingers twitched and Kenayde gave a hopeful gasp, but nothing more happened.
“I'm sorry,” he whispered at length. “I'm so sorry.”
Jaryn crawled forward, unashamed of his tears, and took Ashlynn from Wessely. He held her head close to him and as he cried it was impossible to find anyone there not joining him in mourning. Though her reign had been short, Ashlynn had affected change great enough that she'd touched more lives than she knew. The loss of her would burden more than just Siness. All Celtique Nations would mourn her passing.
Kenayde and Wessely clung to each other, and Nuala went to Cavalon's side to bury her face in his shoulder. He was in too much shock to even comfort her. For all he screamed and hollered at Jaryn for not protecting Ashlynn before, Cavalon felt the weight of guilt heavy on himself. He was the one who had been there at Altaine and let her go. If he'd only known it was Mairead who had gone, if he'd only listened to his gut feelings about Jessiah. If he'd only gotten to her just a little bit sooner tonight. He looked at her hand hanging limply by Jaryn's side. There was almost nothing he wouldn't have given to see that hand balled into a fist and threatening violence against him as it had often done.
Her fingers twitched.
Cavalon blinked hard and sat up straighter, eyes trained on her hand. Her fingers moved again, curling slightly before uncurling.
“Jaryn.”
But it seemed he already knew. A soft gasp came from Jaryn and he loosened his grip on Ashlynn enough to hold her away from him. Her head moved as though she was struggling to wake from a dream, and then her eyes opened to tiny slivers. Jaryn's tears began anew and he pressed her to him, laughing and crying at the same time.
“Easy,” Cavalon said, straining forward so the needle would stay both in her arm as well as his as everyone pressed in close to Ashlynn, touching her, overjoyed at the signs of life. “Give her over.” No one blamed Jaryn for being reluctant at first, but eventually he turned Ashlynn over to Cavalon's arms, content for the moment to sit back and stare at her, and know she was alive.
He was gentle with her, careful as he cradled her like a child against him. She was small enough to be one in his arms, and rested comfortably in his protective embrace. Looking down at her, she opened her eyes a little bit more and offered a minuscule smile.
“Hi.”
“Hi.” Cavalon bent and kissed the top of her head. “Welcome back.” He smiled down at her with grateful tears in his eyes. “Don't do that again, all right?” She didn't have the energy to form words so instead Ashlynn just gave a small nod. Looking at the tube that connected them together, Cavalon gave her a gentle squeeze. She was going to be all right. The girl he couldn't stand upon initial meeting who'd slowly won him over with her sharp tongue, quick wit, and take no prisoners attitude, the one who went from annoying stranger to closer than a sister, was going to be just fine.
Chapter Twentry-Eight
Days ran together and weeks passed for Ashlynn with very little memory of them. She knew Tasarin had come to see her and had tried various spells and potions to make her stronger, but none of them had worked. She remembered feeling both overjoyed and heartbroken at seeing Luella; while Ashlynn longed to spend time sitting and talking with her dear friend she had no energy. For weeks her time was mostly spent sleeping, and the shadows were back to haunt her dreams. She would tearfully beg Badru for his sleeping potion, even go so far as to order and demand, but he refused to give in and only listened to her weak rantings until she was too exhausted to continue. In and out of sleep she could hear him tell Jaryn that the transfusion had cleared any traces of the mixture from her system, but she felt as sluggish as she had when the poison was running through her veins.
She was able to clearly remember the days Jaryn spent with her more than others. He would come to her and sit on the bed beside her, telling her of the events of the day or simply recalling more pleasant times. Sometimes he would tell her fantastical stories and sometimes he would sing to her, other times he would simply hold her and be silent. Those were the times she wondered that it was possible to love someone so much. It was also a time of revelation for her. Jaryn consistently accused her of never letting him take care of her and he was right; she was stubborn and independent, choosing to do everything on her own because she could. Here in her near helplessness she realized how much it meant to her husband that he was able to do for her what she couldn't do for herself, to simply love her and care for her. A silent vow was made that when she was finally better she would let him do that more often.
Her father visited often, as did Kenayde, Elas, and Cailin. No one knew what would become of Oceana but Wessely was perfectly content to stay at Altaine until he knew his daughter would be well again.
Zarra checked on Ashlynn at least once a day, giving her all the good court gossip she could drudge up. Lilia joined her only once but hung back near the door with no discernible expression on her face. Mairead never came. Zarra said she was too ashamed to leave her room now that she was covered in scars.
Never had Ashlynn felt so frustrated with her own body. Her brain worked as it always had, in some ways it felt clearer, but her body simply would not respond the way she wanted it to. In her mind she was still the same person: wheels always turning, trying to think one step ahead in every situation presented to her. But everything she tried to do wore her out. If she could just muster the energy to get outside and shift she was sure the healing would quicken; after all, her Elemental blood was a cure-all for her kind. In her present state, however, it was impossible.
Tonight Rowan was curled up beside her in bed, telling her a story both for purposes of entertainment and also so she could practice speaking in the common Caedian tongue. Jaryn had Lochlainn in his arms, bigger now and so alert and full of energy, but was detained at the doorway by Cavalon and Badru before he could join the girls on the be
d. Though Ashlynn strained to hear what they were saying in their quiet voices, Rowan babbled away beside her and kept her from gleaning much. It was the look of surprise from Jaryn that made her heart skip a beat and the way they all turned to look at Rowan. Summoning a nanny, Jaryn let the baby be taken away before Ashlynn had a chance to even see him. He then walked into the room and crouched beside the bed to give Rowan a little tickle. She giggled and turned away, burying her face in Ashlynn's side and it made him grin, but all at once the grin turned wistful and sad.
“Rowan, why don't you go with Cavalon and Badru now. They've got something for you.”
“But I want to stay with Ashlynn.”
“Go on,” Jaryn pressed. “I'll be right behind you.” With a sigh the little girl rolled off the bed and crossed the room she knew so well by now. Jaryn looked to Cavalon as Rowan slid her hand into his and said, “Wait for me.” The Badarian nodded and the three of them left the room.
Leaning over the edge of the bed, Jaryn turned his sad smile to Ashlynn as he ran a hand over her hair. “What is it?” she asked softly, fearful that she already knew the answer.
“We received word several weeks ago that Donnchadh had passed, which you know. Today Wessely and Cailin came back from going to see if the rumors were true. It seems Donnchadh disappeared the same night Jessiah was killed. He turned to ash and blew away like all the rest of them. None of us knows what that means, really, since that only happened when Merrik was killed. This time it happened when Jessiah was slain, but he was a demon himself.” Jaryn sighed. “It's all very confusing.”
“What else?”
“Donnchadh's eldest boy, a lad by the name of Connor, has taken the throne at the ripe old age of twelve. Thankfully Ibays has a regent and the entire nation will be free from a child's rule for another year until he comes of age, but...that's how that stands.”
Ashlynn frowned. “Are we welcome again?”
Jaryn shook his head. “Relations are still strained. Though Connor is not on the throne in the eyes of the kingdom, he is all but there in body. He heard how his father was treated by everyone and how Cailin deserted him, and he is holding a grudge. We have avoided a war so far, though...and there's something else.” Here Jaryn paused and the regretful look came back into his eyes. “There was a man in the dungeons, one of the cells only select guards knew of. Once the regent took the throne he did an inventory of the prisoners and found these cells. A man was found. He's kept Rowan since she was a babe and Donnchadh took him at the same time he took Rowan. For all intents and purposes this man is-”
“Rowan's father.” Ashlynn felt her heart sink. In the many moments when she was so frustrated with her lack of ability she would often let her mind wander to the future, to a time when she was sure things would be different. She and Jaryn were happy and healthy, and the halls of Altaine rang with the laughter of their many children. Among them was Rowan who they took in and raised as their own. She'd let herself envision it so frequently that it had become a sort of reality to her. Now that it was taken away, Ashlynn felt the loss like a wound and tears filled her eyes.
“I know,” Jaryn whispered. He leaned over to kiss her temple and held her to him for a moment. “I know, love. But they'll both be staying here for the time being so you'll still have her.”
“What?”
“He has no home to go back to. Donnchadh, demon Donnchadh, I don't know which, had his home destroyed when they took Rowan and threw him in the dungeon.” Jaryn took a breath. “Here's the kicker. Remember when Jessiah was in a room with Rowan for the first time and she ran to him? That's because her da, Killian's his name, could be Jessiah's twin.”
Ashlynn's brow furrowed. “Jessiah said his brother's name was Killian.”
“Exactly. It seems Jessiah was the one who died when the boys were younger.”
“I don't...understand.”
Jaryn shook his head with a chuckle. “Neither do I, really. There's still a lot we have to piece together. But he's here now and will be here for some time. Rowan's not going to go anywhere just yet.” He kissed Ashlynn again and rose. “I'm going to go be part of the reunion. You get some rest. I'll check in on you later.”
She nodded, her body tired simply from sitting up for so long and talking, though her mind was screaming at the inactivity. Still she lowered herself beneath the covers that kept away the autumn chill and let herself drift.
It was hard to tell if it was the same day or weeks later when she awoke from a particularly dark dream, panting as though she'd been running. The room was well lit by the midday sun, but there were still shadows in the corner watching. Always watching.
She rolled from her side to her back to find a woman standing by her bedside. Her pale blonde hair was pinned up in curls and the dress she wore suggested she was one of the new ladies Jaryn had found for her, yet she carried a tray of biscuits and hot water and set it on the nightstand like a house girl would. “Tea,” she said, her voice soft and whispery, yet somehow sweet and comforting. “It has chickory, rosehip, peppermint, and orange in it, among other things. I made it myself. It's sweet and spicy, just like you.”
It was hard to pinpoint her accent; each word sounded strange and foreign but was still able to be understood. She sat on the edge of the bed and brushed some of Ashlynn's hair from her face, gentle like a mother with her child. “How are you feeling?”
By all rights Ashlynn should have been upset, if not alarmed, with the informality the woman used to touch and talk to her, but there was something warm about her that immediately drew Ashlynn in and told her no one could possibly be safer or better company for her. It was as if they had known each other all their lives, the comfort level was so strong. It made Ashlynn give her a small smile. “I'm fine.”
The woman tilted her head, disbelief in her bright blue eyes. “That's what you say to someone when you want them to leave you alone. How are you really?”
It was an innocent enough question, but for some reason it made Ashlynn teary. “I am tired. Tired of being tired. I miss my life and my family.”
“I know.” With great gentility the woman touched the back of her hand to Ashlynn's cheek to brush a tear away. “I know how hard this must be for you. You've always been so strong, taking care of everyone else. You have to remember that you almost died. Just a few more minutes, seconds even, and you would not be here anymore. This is a hard time, sweet girl, but it will pass.”
“Will it?”
“Of course it will. But you have to give yourself time. You have to fight to get better...to break free of the things that still hold your fears hostage.”
Ashlynn's eyes grew wide, longing for someone who would understand. “You know what I dream of?” The woman nodded sadly. Ashlynn grabbed her hand in desperation, her gaze sliding to the far corner of the room where the shadow of Tadhg had been lurking, pacing, watching her since she first awoke from her haze. “Can you see him?”
Slowly, the woman turned to look and nodded, cold determination on her face. “The man with the heavy crown upon his head and the rich mantle about his shoulders? Yes, I can see him. And he can see me.”
This very fact alone made Ashlynn cry. For so long now she had felt isolated in this large part of her life. To know her eyes were not the only ones that could see Tadhg and the shadow lurkers was a relief. It was not a burden lifted but a burden shared.
Turning back to Ashlynn, the woman's expression softened once more. “I will do all I can to hold him at bay. He will not hurt you, Ashlynn. Not unless you let him. You have the power to fight him, you simply do not see it yet.” She reached for the tea tray and pulled two rolled up pieces of parchment from behind the steaming tea kettle. Pressing them into Ashlynn's hand she said, “Now you have five pages of the book. There are still many to find, but you must not give up the search. Promise me you will not give up.”
“I promise!”
“Good. None of us are safe until the book is completed and destroyed.”
&nbs
p; “Before I almost died,” Ashlynn breathed, a thought coming to her, “something happened.”
The woman nodded, her eyes crinkling in a small knowing smile. “Each Elemental is tied to a certain life force, some stronger than others. You were laying helpless, surrounded by your Element. It felt you dying.”
Ashlynn didn't understand and she shook her head, her brow furrowing. “Was it trying to save me?”
“Perhaps. I suppose it all depends on your definition of saving.” Reaching for something on the tray once more, the woman showed a small silver brooch to Ashlynn. The trinity knot was a familiar symbol, though she had never seen one with a heart worked into the middle of it. “I want you to keep this close,” the woman said, giving the brooch to Ashlynn. “Do you know what it means?”
“Father, son, and spirit.” Ashlynn traced the path of the metal with a finger. “Love.”
“It will come to mean many things, Ashlynn, but it will be most remembered for meaning hope. Always keep your hope.” She caressed Ashlynn's cheek and bent, pressing her lips to Ashlynn's forehead. A warmth spread through her body at the touch as though healing came from the exchange.
When the woman rose she smiled at Ashlynn but said nothing more as she made for the open door. It was that very moment Jaryn entered with Lochlainn in his arms. “Whoops!” he exclaimed, instinctively taking a step back. “I didn't see you there.”
She curtsied deeply. “My apologies, Your Majesty.” As she straightened she looked at Lochlainn. He was old enough now to be held without support and sit by himself for a few minutes without falling over. In Jaryn's arms he bounced and laughed, flirting with the woman by giving her a great big smile. She reached out and ran a hand over his head in the way only someone intimately familiar would have been allowed. Perhaps too shocked to do or say anything, Jaryn simply looked at the woman with raised brows, but her attention was still on Lochlainn.
