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

by E E Everly

  I was scratched. My fingertips bled from scraping along the bark.

  I had never bled for so long. I could smell the odor. Smell was the only sense that accosted me, that told me I was still alive.

  My skin was numb. I couldn’t hear anything through the thick of the trees. They reached hundreds of feet into the air and obscured the sky and the moon. No stars to tell me my bright star—Kenrik—was safe.

  Why’d I give you my light?

  I was sure he was cursing my existence.

  I had no idea how long I ran. The snow was my only sustenance. I didn’t even know how it reached the forest floor in this hell without melting.

  After my heels became so blistered I was forced to crawl, I stopped. I curled against a mammoth tree root. Cold. Never had I known such bodily pain. I longed to detach my spirit from my flesh. I have only one reason to live. Deian, if it’s your will, save my child.

  SIXTY-NINE

  “Well, there you are,” a man said.

  He dropped a coat over me. I squinted through a blinding lantern glow.

  “Sure enough. They said you’d be here. Those nutters were right.”

  I tried to push myself up but found my arms had no strength.

  “Here. Let me help you. Hadyn’s my name.”

  He set the lantern down while he stooped to loop his arm under mine. “This will be a trick. You’re much bigger than I am.”

  Hadyn pulled me to my knees at least. His face was at my eye level.

  “You’re a little man,” I said.

  He looked around. “Well, I’ll be. You’re right. How peculiar.”

  I chuckled. “My name’s Niawen.”

  “Here, push off my shoulders as I hoist you from around the waist.”

  It took some effort to climb to my feet with his arms tugging and tugging. The ordeal was comical, and I laughed, despite my sorrow.

  “Come, now. I’ll take you somewhere warm. Oh, I nearly forgot.” He rummaged in his pocket and pulled out a bite-sized, cloth-wrapped square. “I should have given this to you before. It will give you energy. We have to hike a ways.”

  I unwrapped the cube. The substance was tacky and squishy. I popped it into my mouth. Nougaty texture, maple taste. A fire burned in my stomach. My senses pricked up, making me keenly alert.

  “That’s from the tegyd. The knuckleheads. Drive me batty. But they’re always right and always handy.”

  Hadyn held my hand through the woods. His lantern was a pleasant comfort. Though he was a middle-aged man, he had few wrinkles, and he was strong.

  “These trees have been here for centuries,” he muttered. “Nothing could cut them down. Bizarre how they’ve grown. People become lost all the time.”

  We squeezed between two trunks. After we rounded a tree for several minutes, we stopped at a cart. Or rather, a basket of hammered-together wood roughly four feet square, but only three feet tall.

  “You’ll have to sit in the bottom,” he said.

  “I don’t understand.”

  He tipped his chin toward the canopy. “We need to get up there.” He shook a chain on the basket’s corner.

  That’s when I realized the chains extended skyward from the basket’s four corners.

  “It’s a lift,” Hadyn said. “It’s secure. The line’s checked every day. In ten minutes we’ll reach the top.”

  My fragile, near-mortal state reminded me how I’d die if the chains snapped. I backed away. “I don’t think I can.”

  “How do you think I got down here? I promise you’ll be fine.” He rummaged in his pocket. “Would you like a sedative to ease the journey?”

  He held out another chewy square.

  “That looks identical to the other one!” I exclaimed. “How did you not give me that one before?”

  Hadyn held the nougat close to his face and examined it. “Uh, you were lucky?”

  What had I gotten myself into?

  “Look, miss, I’m ravenous. The missus will have a fine stew. And we can have you toasty in twenty minutes flat. We have a short walk once we reach the canopy.”

  “Short walk to where? Are we going to walk through the treetops?” I’m dreaming. This is a delirium.

  “You don’t trust people easily.”

  “Should I?”

  “No, you shouldn’t. Very smart.”

  I rested my hands on my hips. “Then what do you propose I do?”

  “Trust me.”

  I rolled my eyes.

  “Are you afraid of heights?”

  I laughed, thinking of Kelyn. “I’m not afraid of heights.”

  “All right, then. Let’s go.” He lifted a latch and opened a door on the basket.

  I tucked into the small space and sat with my knees to my chest to conserve heat. After Hadyn secured us, he reached toward the trunk and used a mallet to strike a small bell, which was attached to a wire running up the tree. Within a few seconds, the chains started creaking. As the basket lifted off the ground, we swayed.

  Hadyn steadied himself. “The ride will be over before you know it. A fine night for a jaunt, eh? A fine night indeed.”

  He took out a pipe and lit it, relaxing as we ascended to… I couldn’t guess.

  SEVENTY

  I was welcomed into the world of little people. A strange place to find myself in. Hadyn escorted me along planked bridges connecting decks that were constructed around the trees’ tops. Humble dwellings hugged each tree trunk, making a community of hundreds. A few torches marked the bridges, and while most houses were dark, we finally came to one whose windows were lit.

  “Come in, come in,” Hadyn said.

  I ducked under a five-foot-tall doorway and entered a delightfully cozy living space. A cheery fire brightened the room, fending off the cold that had crept in when we’d opened the door.

  A little lady with a mop of curly brown hair was cooking stew over the fireplace. The smell filled me from head to toe. I’d taken for granted how the light sustained a body. I must have been hungry for two days or more since I wasn’t sure how long I’d run through the forest.

  “Look at her! You found her!” the lady exclaimed.

  “This here’s my wife, Emlyn,” Hadyn replied.

  “Pleased to meet you,” I said.

  Emlyn took my hands. “Oh, you’re frigid! Sit here and warm yourself.” She settled me into an armchair in front of the fire and dished out steaming stew.

  I ate with much thanks while listening to the little people whisper together.

  “Found ten trees away from the lift, poor girl,” Hadyn said. “All frightened and chilled to the bone.”

  “Poor dear. We’ll keep her safe,” Emlyn said.

  “I can’t believe those tegyd were right, looney lot.”

  “I’m not staying long.” I bit into a piece of potato, chewed, and swallowed. “I should keep moving. I don’t want to be any trouble.”

  “Oh no,” Emlyn said. “We were to expect you. A deer man came and told us you were lost. A crew of Eilian set out to locate you.”

  “Deer man? Eilian?”

  “We’re the Eilian,” Emlyn said. “You’re in East Eilian Village. The tegyd are the deer men. They had a premonition concerning you. Wanted us to help you.”

  “That reminds me! I must call off the search.” Hadyn left the hut.

  “I’m surprised he remembered,” Emlyn said. “They might have been looking for you for three more days before he put a halt to it.”

  “Why’d they have a premonition about me?”

  “Oh, who in the world knows why? They’re a bunch of lofty-headed daydreamers. Every so often they ask for our help. You know, to uphold the balance of nature or something. They said you’d be in the forest, and well, here you are.”

  Shock was one way to describe it—that I was important enough for someone to seek me out… after the hellish things I’d been through? Why would anyone care? Tears beaded at the corners of my eyes.

  “Now, don’t cry. Everything’s all r
ight.” Emlyn patted my hand.

  “Nothing will ever be all right,” I sobbed.

  “Why don’t you tell me about it, and we can see what needs to be done to make things better.”

  I nodded, not sure where to start or what was safe to tell her. “I need a new life. Someone out there wants to hurt me, so I can’t stay long. I don’t want to endanger you.”

  Emlyn assured me we were safe in the trees. Enchantments protected the inhabitants. I relaxed enough for her to persuade me to stay for a month while I healed physically.

  Healing mentally and emotionally was another story.

  As light grew in my womb, I worried for my child. I still felt too close to Caedryn. I woke at night in a cold sweat. I had to travel farther away. Distance was what I wanted.

  I cried during the day. I wandered along the bridges, sometimes hiding in a quiet alcove behind a hut to cry. More often than not, an Eilian found me and ushered me inside to eat. They talked with enthusiasm over everything, and I ate whatever they placed in front of me to keep from crying.

  I only wanted escape. Silence with my own torturing thoughts.

  They wouldn’t let me have it.

  “You must eat to keep your strength up,” Emlyn said. “I don’t care who’s broken your heart or who’s dead or who’s missing. If you don’t have your health, then everything is much harder.”

  She did have a point.

  I needed to stay healthy for my child. Caedryn’s child. He or she would be like Caedryn. Half-darkness and half-light. The thought pinned fear into the pit of my stomach.

  My heart had broken for the last time. I thought I could make a life with Caedryn. As twisted as he was, it would have worked if his jealousy didn’t drive him into madness.

  I had loved him. I knew I had. But that love was destroyed. I still missed his touch. Our short life together was etched into my nightmares. I understood why Caedryn had been haunted. Something about the makeup of an emrys caused me to replay the worst of my memories. Without the healing abilities of light, my mistakes would always disturb me.

  I needed an emrys healer. I needed Catrin. How I missed her!

  I wouldn’t even mind seeing Aneirin.

  I gave up everything because I was restless. I gave up my friends and my family because I wanted adventure.

  I gave up my home.

  I was homeless.

  And Gorlassar was warm. I wished for spring rains and summer breezes. The bees’ hum and the frolic of dragons. I wished for galas and tournaments and university. I wished for my mother’s hug and even my father’s approval.

  I’d never have that again.

  I wished for light.

  What I needed was my light. A pinprick of light had grown in my heart-center over the three weeks I stayed with the Eilian. The amount was so diminutive the light couldn’t be harnessed, but I thanked my stars I possessed even that small amount.

  I rubbed my stomach. The babe was growing, although a bump was not yet showing. I didn’t tell my kind hosts anything about my pregnancy.

  The plan was to leave before anyone found out.

  I kept touching my neck, feeling for my dragon stone. I prayed with all my might that Kenrik had summoned Seren and she’d take him to Gorlassar.

  Kenrik. Oh, Kenrik.

  My light was in a mortal. It had given him greater strength. Healed him nearly instantly. What will become of you? How long would Caedryn pursue him? How long would the bond last between them? I wanted to save Kenrik from my life, from loving me. I wanted to keep from being a rift between him and his family.

  With my light in him, he couldn’t go home. He’d endanger his family. He couldn’t visit Brenin again. A marriage with Tiwlip was impossible.

  I’m so sorry, Kenrik. Forgive me. Deian, please forgive me. I’ve doomed everyone I’ve come to love.

  The worst heartbreak was my broken bond between Seren and me. Would I ever see her again? I was no longer a dragon guardian. I no longer felt that kinship with her. She no longer possessed my unending life. Maybe Kenrik would return the stone to Seren, and she could start again. I should have told him to do that.

  So many regrets. I was doing everything wrong.

  I shouldn’t have left Gorlassar.

  It was entirely too late to have foolish wishes. The only way to go was forward.

  I felt peace in that small decision.

  SEVENTY-TWO

  I stayed with my generous hosts for four weeks before I asked Hadyn to take me west. We traveled for two weeks through the Great Forest’s canopy, by the maze of bridges, until we came to the Great Ridge. A rough-hewn path was carved across the ridge’s top, connecting the two sides of the forest. The Eilian were the only people to tread this way, except for the occasional small, four-legged, furry animal. The trees on either side of the ridgetop trail were deciduous, and though spring wasn’t quite underway, the trail was free of snow.

  I endured a rickety descent—one I hoped to never do again—by lift in West Eilian Village. By the second weeks’ end, I said farewell to Hadyn at the edge of the Great Forest.

  As the trees became normal sized, I felt a huge release. Caedryn was two dense forests and a mountain ridge behind me. The fresh air filled my nostrils. I walked carefully and casually, noticing the green buds on the trees. The forest floor was smooth with sparse growth, so passage was effortless.

  Hadyn gave me a crossbow so I could hunt for food. I carried that and my pack slung over my shoulders. I wore an extra-heavy cloak because my light had not recovered enough to keep me warm.

  I still felt mortal.

  It took time for scratches to heal. I was cautious crossing the bridges and cutting vegetables. I stepped firmly on the ground to avoid spraining my ankles. I drank more and ate a lot, not forgetting that the babe in my womb required me to do so anyway.

  Crossing the ridge signaled passing into “wee” Brenin’s realm, as Hadyn had said. By my estimation, I was three weeks from the capital. Brenin and Tiwlip would return home as the weather warmed. I debated going there. I debated trekking even farther south until I found Tarren, Owein’s home.

  No. I turned north toward the coastal plains.

  Up ahead, through the trees, a fur-covered figure crouched in the underbrush. He fiddled with a knife, and as I approached, he was skinning a fox.

  “Do you plan on turning that into a hat or a pair of gloves?” I asked. “You know, I never liked wearing fur. It’s—”

  “A rotten carcass you wouldn’t be caught dead wearing,” the man said.

  “How’d you know?”

  The man peered from under his cap and wiped his hands on a rag. “Only one person has ever criticized my furs. And don’t think for one second that I’d forget her voice or her face.”

  Those blue eyes. I stared. A close-cropped beard covered the man’s face, and hair poked out around the cap, nearly concealing his face. His coat was thick but worn. His fingertips stuck out from fingerless gloves. I recognized his knife, the one he kept in his boot.

  Even under the rugged exterior, his eyes were unmistakable.

  “Owein,” I said.

  He stood. “I’d ask what you’re doing here, but it’s clear you had to see me. Missed me too much, didn’t you?”

  My heart lub-dubbed strangely in my chest. “Owein!”

  “Yeah. It’s me.”

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I’m trapping,” he said. “I told you I go all over the place. I’ve been working my way in this direction since I left Tarren. I make the journey every winter. I was going to head back and work my way south again.”

  “You’re unbelievable.”

  “I assure you it’s believable.”

  “No,” I said. “I didn’t expect to run into you. I was turning north.”

  “Now why would you do that? There’s nothing of worth up north. Just the plains. They’re dull, flat, and lifeless. Except for the prairie critters crawling all over the place. Can’t really make anything o
ut of their furs.”

  I laughed.

  “I’m in a sorry state,” he said. “You caught me all wild man. I’m afraid I’m beneath Gorlassar’s standards.”

  I scrutinized Owein until his brow crinkled with worry.

  I laughed again. “I don’t care!” I threw my arms around his neck.

  “You really missed me.” He dropped any hesitation and folded his arms around me. “Why are you here by yourself? Where’s Seren?”

  I cracked. I tucked my face against Owein’s smelly fur coat and cried. “You don’t know how dreadful my winter’s been.”

  “Oh, now. At least you found me. Come on. Let’s make ourselves a fox stew. I swear, once you taste my cooking, you’ll be sorry you never did before.”

  I sniffled. “I should tell you—I’ve come to warn you.”

  “Is that right?”

  “Apparently an emrys woman can snare the hearts of every man she lays eyes on. I’m dangerous.”

  “You know it’s too late for me. Niawen, I’m not letting you go. I’ve regretted walking away from you all winter. You’re like a bad prune.”

  “That’s a ghastly image.”

  Owein grimaced. “I’ve never been good with metaphors.”

  After Owein wrapped his fox meat and bundled his fur, we headed to his camp.

  “I should tell you a few things first, Owein. I’m not sure what you’ll think of me then.”

  He stopped dead in his tracks and turned to me. “Nothing, and I mean nothing, will chase me off. I’m going to show you the simple things of this world. And that’s all there is to it, Niawen.”

  I smiled. I couldn’t have been happier to run into the most mundane mortal of them all. One who was straightforward and kind. One who asked nothing of me and was willing to give me up so I could have the best of this life—even if the best had failed me and I wasn’t meant for it.

  But I didn’t want the best. I wanted the mundane.

  I wanted Owein and his humor and his twinkling eyes.

  “Show me your world, Owein. I’m ready.”

  EPILOGUE

  I looked up from ogling the bundle in my arms as Owein entered our cottage.