Corrupted: An Epic Dragons and Immortals Romantic Fantasy (Fallen Emrys Chronicles Book 1)

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Corrupted: An Epic Dragons and Immortals Romantic Fantasy (Fallen Emrys Chronicles Book 1) Page 3

by E E Everly


  He’s bold, I said. I have too many secrets, and none I can share—yet.

  Are you really going to trust him? Seren asked.

  His intentions are pure. You can sense that. I think I shall. This is just the adventure to take my mind off Aneirin.

  Seren’s hesitation filtered through me.

  Please, Seren. I’ll be fine. I want to explore this world.

  I’ll support you, but I’m keeping my eye on you both.

  I’m your guardian, silly, I said.

  We all need someone to watch out for us.

  Her concession was all I required. Thank you, Seren! Thank you for understanding.

  I stood. “I accept your offer, Owein. Show me this world.”

  FIVE

  “Does she look like a Gwyll to you?” Owein asked the company.

  A freckled, redheaded man leered at me. “Oy, she’s a ghost. Near as pale as my poor weary bones.”

  “Where be her creature?” a portly, purple-faced woman asked while securing a bucket outside her wagon.

  Introductions were going splendidly. I tried to appear sweet and inviting as I gazed at my judges, even though I resented being compared to bones. Their skin ranged in all hues and textures—mostly rough and dried out, as if the sun baked them like shriveling fruit on the vine. The sun had no effect on emrys skin. Our ability to harness the power of light and heal ourselves negated any influence the daystar held. Certainly these humans really did come in all shapes and sizes and colors. Every emrys I knew had porcelain skin, slender physiques, and various shades of gold- or silver-blond hair. We all had green eyes to one degree or another.

  The pride of my people and their beauty was a far cry from what I beheld. I caught a whiff of pungent body odor and wriggled my nose. Owein told me the group had been on the road for three weeks. My guess was they hadn’t bathed during the entire journey. A taller man on my right had a trim build, but when I gave him a smile, the one I received in return had more than one brown, rotting tooth.

  My face flushed.

  I glanced at Owein, pleading with my eyes. What had I gotten myself into? The lot seemed harmless, but I wasn’t sure of the customs their world would reveal. I missed Gorlassar already.

  Regretting anything? Seren asked with a hint of amusement.

  She waited back where we camped. We intended to meet up once my companions were asleep. Owein agreed to the idea, saying that flying at night was safer for Seren.

  Not yet, I said. We’ll call this research. I want to find a home with people I can tolerate. Or at least ones who have a full set of teeth.

  You’re intent on staying.

  I’m not committing to anything.

  What would your father say? Seren asked.

  It’s too late for that. My father would have already disowned me. I no longer existed to him. Caledu was an enforcer of Gorlassar’s laws. Having a defiant daughter embarrassed him. He slammed me with that emotion repeatedly.

  And I concealed my shame. I didn’t want him to know how his attitude tortured me. Well, I wondered how humiliated he was. What excuse would he give for my exit? Would he brush it off and lift his head high?

  Owein snickered and took my arm. “Come. I want you to meet Arnall. You’ll find him an agreeable character.”

  Owein led me to a horse-drawn cart, where a man was tugging on canvas, to secure it over their belongings. He turned around and saw Owein first. “There you are, man. I was going to leave camp without you. I thought that Gwyll snared you in her conniving web. Wasn’t about to send a search party. Can’t afford to waste precious life on your curious hide.”

  “Not so, my good friend. You’ll never be rid of me.” Owein gripped Arnall’s forearm in greeting. “I’d like you to meet—”

  “Holy stars in the heavens!” Arnall took in my attire, starting from my expertly crafted shoes, on to the supremely stitched and embroidered tunic, until he stopped at my face. He got lost in my eyes. “Far from a Gwyll if I’ve ever seen one. By the Creator, who are you?”

  A mole sat at the corner of his right eye, and I was relieved when he smiled and his teeth were intact. My regal garb outshone the simple attire of both Arnall and Owein, even though they were well-groomed. I sensed this assessment in Arnall. He brushed his dusty hand on his pants and straightened his shirt before holding his hand out to mine.

  I wasn’t sure what the tradition for greeting was, so I extended my hand toward his and allowed him to take the lead. “I’m Niawen.”

  “Arnall, at your service.” He bent, taking my hand in his, and pressed his lips to the top of my hand.

  Heat swept over me. The lips were used for so much kissing in this realm and not just between husband and wife! I pulled my hand back.

  “Oh, I’ve offended you,” Arnall said. “I thought that’s how I should greet such a fine lass. I don’t normally kiss a lady in such a way.”

  “Come now, Arnall, that’s enough. You’ll frighten her off.” Owein winked at me. “It took a bit of encouragement to convince her to join us.”

  “So you’ll be coming, will you? We should arrive at the festival in six days. There’s a town between here and there. We plan on one night to bathe and freshen up. I’m sure you’ve seen this lot. They could use it.” Arnall eyed my long legs. “Think you can handle the hike? I imagine those stringy legs of yours don’t get much exercise when you’re flying on such a beast.”

  “I’m stronger than I seem.” I had more than enough strength to whip them all in hand-to-hand combat, and I counted a dozen and a half in our group.

  “Where’s your creature?” Arnall asked.

  “Creature?” I asked, feigning innocence.

  “I see how it is. Did you get a look at the beast, Owein?”

  “Beast? I found no beast. Must’ve been an apparition.” Owein wiggled his brows.

  Arnall scoffed. “Now you know everyone saw the winged lizard. Like a pearl her flesh was. No beast I’ve ever seen was a color like that. Unnatural.” Arnall puffed out his chest and elbowed Owein. “Like pearls in the markets. Don’t pull the wool over my eyes. You convinced us to stay in camp and not seek the pretty lady out. Told us she was dangerous, but I see your ploy.” Arnall leaned toward me. “Has he charmed you with his good looks and charisma? I’ve never been a match for him. The ladies back home couldn’t ever turn their eyes from Owein.”

  I laughed. Owein was right. Arnall was an agreeable character. At least the trip would be entertaining and educational.

  SIX

  After another long day of travel, Owein sidled up and sat beside me on the log. “I’m trying to wrap my mind around these other planes.”

  I’d held up, despite Arnall’s ribbing about my legs. Three days on the road so far. Three days with the mortals. The travel was a different sort of adventure than what I was used to. I might have enjoyed myself more if I wasn’t constantly thinking about Aneirin.

  The woodsy scent of a cooking fire wafted on the air, and I was lost in the dance of its flames. With each flicker, I saw Aneirin’s face. His emotions played through me, multiplied by Catrin’s final judgments on the ledge. I had become a seething bomb, which I knew would go off eventually. The coiling and packing of my emotions to protect Seren from the brunt of them would compound the explosion. I was playing a dangerous game.

  I blinked as Owein’s words filtered into my brain. I realized he was starting our game. He knew he could trick me into giving more of my secrets away, one by one. I thought this hilarious. Seren—who was asleep and waiting for me to slip away once the caravan slept for the night—was usually less than amused by his antics.

  “Are they different planets with their own suns or are they just other countries separated by the seas on this gargantuan rock?” Owein studied the line of my jaw. He had taken to studying every aspect of my face lately.

  I didn’t turn my head but imagined my pupils dilating as the flames filled my vision and entranced me. I hadn’t the energy to goad Owein. “What do you thi
nk?”

  “Seren could fly you across the sea, I have no doubt. But if Seren flew you across the sea, then others would have done that. What makes you special? Why here, and why now?”

  “That, Owein, is the big question.” Why me, why here, why now?

  His fingers curled around my wrist. They were warm and heavy, confident. Owein was always confident. “You’ve become more stoic over the past three days. It doesn’t take an immortal to see that.”

  I blushed. Owein had assumed I was immortal. He was making a lot of assumptions, and I didn’t correct him. Not if he was right. Deep down, I wanted someone to know all about me, as much as Aneirin knew. I wanted a level of intimacy I was familiar with, but at the same time, I was fearful of opening my heart. Intimacy led to caring, which led to hurt, which led to being crushed. Somehow I hadn’t quite accepted my broken heart. Because then the bomb would go off, irrevocably cracking me, shattering all that remained of my hopes.

  When I didn’t answer, Owein plowed on. “I know what you’re thinking.” He mocked my voice. “If I have to stand one more day with this crazy lot, who stinks of onion and horse crap, I might lose my mind. I’m regretting leaving the immortals, who brush their hair smooth until it shines”—Owein raked his fingers through his short hair and pretended to toss it over his shoulder—“who bathe in floral-scented oils”—he sniffed his tunic and gagged—“whose men fawn over their women’s every smile and eye wink…”

  Owein nudged my leg with his as if to ask if he was correct.

  I pressed my mouth into a thin line.

  “You miss the pleasure of your dragon fetching you a meaty lamb to roast right before your eyes?”

  He was reaching. I cracked a smile.

  “That’s better,” he said.

  “The dragons do not fetch our dinner for us,” I said. “And the men do not fawn over us.”

  “But you do primp. Your beauty far surpasses ours, I gather. They must be dainty where you’re from.”

  “Honestly? If you went to Gorlassar, you’d be surprised. No one is dainty there.”

  “Gorlassar, eh?”

  Grimacing over my laxity, I pushed Owein away. “We’re all the same. Beauty is irrelevant in Gorlassar. We don’t judge each other on physical appearance.”

  “You see us though. You see every smudged face and smell every reeking breath. You judge mortals.”

  “I haven’t had time to judge. Just observe.”

  “Is that what you call it?” he asked. “Interesting. Take me to Gorlassar, and I’ll observe your people.”

  “Oh, you’re shameless! Just invite yourself to my realm!”

  “You would never take me, would you? I’d love to fly on Seren.”

  My face fell. “I can’t. Mortals aren’t allowed there.” I’m not allowed there.

  “Why not?”

  Should I tell him that emrys judge mortals? Should I tell him the emrys believe humans are corrupted? That the elders taught us from infancy that evil existed in the mortal world and emrys shouldn’t enter or else we would be subject to the same corruption?

  “I lied to you,” I said. “I’m not here for a visit. And besides, Seren would never let you fly on her.”

  “She wouldn’t? I bet I’ll finagle a flight out of her someday. Just you wait.”

  “Don’t hold your breath.” I rested my chin in my hands as I leaned toward the fire.

  “So why are you here? What’s so awful about mortals that we can’t go to Gorlassar?” Owein copied my position and stared into the fire.

  “There’s nothing awful about you. It’s just a rule.”

  He flinched upright. “I can’t believe you’re avoiding my questions.”

  “That’s nothing new.”

  He laughed.

  As I turned to him, I realized I loved his curious, blue eyes, especially as they searched my face. “Oh, Owein. You just have to take my word for it.”

  “What did you do? Did they throw you out?”

  I jumped up. “You’re unbelievable! I’m tired of your assumptions.”

  Owein grabbed my hand and pulled me back onto the log. I let him.

  “I’m sorry I’m prodding. I’ll give it a rest,” he said.

  “Thank you.”

  “Niawen, I don’t care why you’re here. I don’t care what you’ve done. Just be here. In the moment. I accept you for who you are. Can you do the same for yourself?”

  I looked him square in the eyes. “You’re amazing, you know.”

  The side of Owein’s mouth curved up. “So they tell me.”

  SEVEN

  Looks as though there’s only room for the ladies.” Owein slipped over to the cart where Arnall was leaning, picking at the dirt under his nails. The rest of the company was busy securing goods and settling the horses.

  Arnall groaned. “Aww, should have thought about that. With the festival—”

  “Every room’s taken.”

  “So where does that leave us?”

  Owein cleared his throat. “The barn.”

  I shifted my eyes from Arnall’s disappointed face to Owein’s. He didn’t seem too dismayed. “Let’s settle the ladies. Then we’ll gather the buckets and have ourselves an ice-cold sponge bath in some chilling creek water.”

  “Well, Owein, this keeps getting better and better. So much for the hope of a long soak in a deep tub in front of a roaring fire.” After punching Owein in the shoulder. Arnall raised his voice. “All right, men, time to get settled. Straw’s better than nothing.”

  Owein turned to me and offered his arm. “Right this way, my lady. I’ll show you to your room. You have the pleasure of sharing it with Alis, Eira, and Morgan.” His voice dropped. “Shouldn’t be too bad, but I hear Alis snores.”

  “Really, that’s not necessary. I’ll probably sneak out to Seren anyway.”

  “You don’t want to fight the ladies for the tub? If you’re first, you get the clean bath water.”

  I cringed.

  “I’m joking.”

  I stopped Owein at the inn’s entrance and touched his forearm. “I’ll find my room later. You take off.”

  “Can I come with you to visit Seren? I don’t want to bathe in a barn full of stinky men.”

  “I thought you wanted to keep an eye on Arnall. Thought you were worried about his roving eyes.”

  Owein smirked. “It won’t do any good. There’ll be a shapely body beside him in the hay by morning. And I’m not speaking of Morgan. Those two are on the outs. Near disastrous skirmish last night. Thank the stars you were with Seren.”

  “Is that why Morgan was so disgruntled?” I laughed. As if I couldn’t tell by sensing her emotions.

  “Disgruntled is one way to put it.”

  Owein’s face glowed from the light that filtered through the inn’s front window. He was too hopeful. He had grown rather fond of me over the past few days. I wished he could conceal his feelings from me. I wasn’t sure I wanted a mortal pawing over me, even if Owein was nothing but a gentleman.

  What would he say if he knew I could read his feelings?

  Rolling my eyes, I said. “Come on. Grab that bucket. You need a bath.”

  “What?” He sniffed himself and shook his head. “How about that? I sure do.”

  EIGHT

  Owein lifted his bucket out of the creek. The other men had long since taken their pails back to sit on a fire. “It’ll be ugly in there. Naked men scrubbing their clothes on washboards. Hanging them up to dry overnight and sleeping with nothing but woolen blankets to cushion their hides against the scratchy straw.”

  While crouching in the grass, I swirled my fingers in a pail full of water, watching the bubbles surface as I waited for Owein. He was teasing me again, as usual. I didn’t need or want those disturbing images in my head. I picked up the bucket and followed Owein back to the barn. He veered toward the campfire to join his bucket with the others’.

  The group was already jovial, having drunk too much. Clearly ale affected mo
rtals differently. I might receive a slight euphoric grandeur, but none of the bumbling these men displayed.

  I grabbed Owein’s arm, passing him my pail. “Here, take your bath in peace before the rest of the group joins you in the barn. If you leave your clothes outside the door, I’d be glad to clean them for you.”

  “You don’t have to…” He glanced down at the pail I handed him. Steam rose from the water. “How?”

  “Go, before I change my mind. I don’t do laundry for just anyone.” I took his bucket of cold water and shoved him through the barn door.

  I waited while I hoped he stripped his garments off. The door creaked open, and a pile of clothing dropped into the dust. I scooped them up and slipped away.

  Laundry was a relatively uninvolved chore for an emrys. With my fingertips and a bit of heat from my light, I boiled water in the bucket I took from Owein. I dipped his shirt and pants and plunged my hands in, squeezing and ringing and scrubbing the material with lye. My skin didn’t burn. The agitating didn’t tire my hands. The mortals didn’t know what extraordinary capabilities they were missing.

  You don’t think Owein will be suspicious? His clothes will be ready in minutes, Seren said.

  How do you suppose he thinks I heated the water? He’s making a lot of guesses about immortals. This one shouldn’t surprise him.

  Satisfied that his outfit was clean, I pulled it from the bucket and wrung it out. I snapped his linen shirt with a flick of my wrists and a flash of heat. His shirt dried instantly. I shook it until it softened and then folded it. I proceeded with his pants and his stockings. Completing the ensemble, I finished with his cloak. Owein would be the cleanest man at the festival.

  I scurried back to the barn. The men were still around the fire. Some shirtless and others asleep. So much for baths. They deserved a night of indulgence, I supposed. I knocked on the barn door. I didn’t want to leave Owein’s clothing outside in the dirt, so I closed my eyes to search with my light’s power but, at the same time, wondered if I was strong enough to pick up the weak internal light of any mortals who might be inside.

 

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