by D. E. Morris
“It is not anger,” Wessely corrected. “Though I can only speak for myself, it is not anger I feel. It is great disappointment.”
“Papa...”
“I understand your decision to keep this development among you, in fact, I commend it. As Cavalon said, it likely would have been harder to preserve such a change if more of us knew. That does not make it easier to accept.” Reaching around Jaryn, he took Ashlynn's hand. “My heart breaks for you, my daughter. I know how you loved what you were. I cannot begin to imagine the burden you carried even before you told anyone.”
She gave him a thin smile and nodded. “Thank you, Papa.” As she let go of him, she looked to the one person who had not spoken a single word since her revelation. Tasarin had always been hard to read, and as he sat there, expressionless, this moment was no exception. “Tasarin?”
He held her gaze evenly, unflinching as he told her, “I am angry.”
Ashlynn swallowed and gave a slow nod. “You have a right to be.”
“I have played many roles in your life, Ashlynn. I have been your protector, your adviser, and your counselor. At times I have felt like your brother, at other times a father, but above and during every season in our lives, I have been your friend. I have been someone you could trust when there were few others to whom you could turn.”
“I know...”
“Everyone else may accept the reasons you have given for not sharing, but I am having a hard time feeling pity over pretense. You carried on as though nothing had changed.”
Elas glared at the elf. “Now hold on. She wasn't being malicious in not telling anyone.”
Turning his placid face to the younger man, Tasarin lifted a brow just a fraction. “I do not believe I used that term. Do I think Ashlynn purposefully deceived us to hurt us? Of course not. Her loyalty to everyone sitting around this table is unquestionable. However, I do not take being lied to lightly, especially from someone I consider family.” Elas opened his mouth to retort, but Tasarin held up a finger, not yet finished. “A lie of omission is still a lie.”
“He's right,” Ashlynn agreed. She turned a pleading gaze on Elas before returning to Tasarin. “You're right. By letting you all believe that nothing had changed, by never even hinting that anything was any different from the way it had been, I lied to you and I am sorry. You cannot possibly know the torment I have felt these past five years each time I have had to avoid shifting or using fyre...or redirect conversations and questions when it came to this subject. I felt like a terrible friend and an even worse daughter.” Jaryn rubbed a hand over her back when fresh tears filled her eyes. “I can't expect you to understand or even forgive me, at least not right away. Were I in any other position than my own, I don't know if I would react any differently than Tasarin has.” Squaring her shoulders, she pushed her tears down to face everyone without shame. “But I do not regret my decision and would make it again. Cavalon is right. The more people who knew that my powers were gone, the greater the risk of the knowledge getting out, and the greater the risk to my family, my son especially. If keeping him safe means making all of you angry with me, then so be it. Before you set your minds to returning home upset with me and upset with those who told you nothing of this...I have to tell you that it gets worse.”
Badru nodded as though he knew what she was about to say, but Ashlynn shook her head at him. “It isn't just the plan to remedy this power limbo, Badru. Someone - likely one of the guards - overheard our meeting that day. They heard us talk of a blood purge and word of it has spread enough to make its way here.” His eyes widened and she continued. “It may have only spread in Siness so far.”
“But how long will it stay in your country?” He covered his mouth with his hands. “This is exactly what we feared.”
Tasarin's brow wrinkled. “What is a blood purge?”
“It's the reason why Cavalon doesn't like you,” Rowan remembered. “Well, why he doesn't like elves in general.”
“What?”
Cavalon sighed and leaned forward on the table, clasping his hands together atop it. “It's a long story, so here's the short version: When Mei Xing was a little girl, her father, the then Elemental of Air, decided he was done and wanted out. Not ready to die but just wanting to get rid of his powers, he and a friend of his, an elf, worked up a plan where he would kill himself in a way that would ensure the maximum amount of blood loss with the least amount of damage. His heart would stop long enough for his powers to transfer to Mei, then the elf would revive him.”
Tasarin shook his head. “Elves have varied forms of magic, but we cannot bring the deceased back to life.”
“Apparently you can if you have healing abilities and you move fast enough because it worked. As soon as Mei was seizing, her father was revived as a mortal and Mei was the new Air Elemental.”
“The act was later called a blood purge,” Badru continued quietly. “Somehow word of it got out and there was a rash of similar purges among men and women who hated their own Gaelic blood. Most who attempted the purge died, which quickly put an end to the outbreak. Not a word has been spoken of a purge since Mei Xing was a child. Until now.” He looked at Ashlynn once more. “If there is even one successful purge, it will spread like the plague, especially in the wake of recent events.”
“I know,” she lamented. “That's part of why I knew I needed to tell you all today. If talk of a purge spreads to other countries, we will have to work together to stop it. We will have to show a unified face against it.”
“A fat lot of good that will do,” Cailin grumbled, “given how hypocritical Fionn has already made us all look.”
“And we will be hypocrites,” Ashlynn told her, “because I intend to take part in my own purge.”
It felt as though the entire group around the table held their collective breaths.
“I know it sounds extreme,” she allowed, “but it is for the preservation of the Earth Element. If I keep my very slim hold on it, we believe that the tenuous ties I have to it will be broken and the element will be lost for good. If I do this purge, Lochlainn will gain my powers and the element will be revived before it is gone all together.”
Elas crossed his arms, his jaw set. “And how do you plan on accomplishing that?”
She took a slow breath and met her brother-in-law's angry glare. “With help. Thankfully I know an elf who is skilled in healing.”
“I am practiced,” Tasarin corrected quickly, “not skilled. It does not come naturally to me, Ashlynn. It is something for which I need a great deal of concentration, even with the smallest injuries. I cannot bring you back from the brink of death in the very slim time between when your heart stops beating and your body begins to shut down.” If she had blinked, she would have missed the fleeting panic that widened his eyes before it was gone. “All that to say that I would help you even if I could. I may be upset with you, but I refuse to help you kill yourself.”
Ashlynn lifted her free hand, palm up, on the table. “I love you for your protectiveness, all of you because I can see it in your faces how much you hate this plan, but I have to transfer my powers to Lochlainn. I have to. There's no way around it, and there is no other way.”
Tasarin leaned forward, his eyes narrowed. “I will find another way.”
She nodded, a small, hopeful smile on her lips. “If anyone can, it would be you.”
For a time, no one else had anything to say. The atmosphere was heavy and charged, as though a storm was brewing overhead and a crack of lightning could strike at any moment. Ashlynn leaned into her husband and he put an arm around her shoulder. No one had an appetite anymore, and sat looking at the mess before them without even thinking about it. So much had been revealed, even to those who felt as though they had known what was coming. It was as though everyone had been paralyzed by the weight they now carried on their shoulders.
“If I may,” Killian ventured at length, “given recent events, I would like to call for a reinstatement of the Keepers.” He turned to
Jaryn, imploring. “I believe the Keepers will be needed again now, perhaps more than they were even when they were first formed.”
“I agree,” Cailin supported. “We'll be able to form our own underground network, a way to communicate with secrecy and security to find the best ways and places to keep dragons and Gaels safe.”
Connor nodded and turned to Jaryn. “I know Gianara will be in, especially when she finds out about the destroyed clutch in Ibays.” He looked to Killian and Cailin. “Can I become one, too? Can I be a Keeper?”
“Can you keep that temper of yours in check?” Killian asked.
Connor gave a bold nod. “I can. I really can.”
A silent conversation passed between Cailin and Killian before he nodded and said, “I think you would make a fine addition to our numbers, provided High King Jaryn allows us to proceed.”
Jaryn gave a heavy sigh. “I hate to add this to your already full plates.”
“We can handle it,” Cailin assured, her comment causing Wessely to look away with a subtle frown. She glanced at Killian in ignorance. “Before either of us joined your service, this is who we were. We were trained for this. We led double lives, sometimes more when our protection was needed.” With a confident nod, she repeated, “We can handle it.”
Jaryn sat back and ran his fingers over his beard before resting his chin in his hand. He met Cailin's expectant gaze and held it a moment before looking next at Killian. Both of them were eager and willing. It was obvious in the lift of their brows and the confident leveling of their shoulders. “How quickly will you be able to get others involved? I don't want the two of you carrying the bulk of this for long.”
“It will be slow to start,” Killian admitted, “but swift to spread.”
“My people will help in any way they can,” Nuala offered.
“Thank you, Your Majesty.”
The sun was sinking lower behind the mountains, stretching shadows across the table. Though it was still early yet, there wasn't a single person there that didn't show exhaustion either in their weary faces or in the way they slouched in their seats. “All right.” Jaryn said at last, too tired to mull the idea over any longer. If agreeing for now meant he could go back to his room with his wife and child, he would give in. “Do it.”
Cailin rose, her wheels already turning as she turned toward Killian. “If we're quick enough, we can go through the people still in the village, just eyeballing, mind you, and see if we catch any tattoos. I saw a few this week so I know there were others here, but I wasn't looking for anyone at the time.”
“If possible, any you find can be spoken with through telepathy.” Killian stood as well, forgetting his usual manners. “Perhaps if I brought a Gael with me...”
“I can help,” Kenayde offered. “I am still not perfect with my telepathy, but I would like to help, if I can.”
Elas nodded his agreement. “As would I.”
Killian turned to Jaryn and Ashlynn and bowed his head, remembering the company he kept. “With your permission, Your Majesties.”
“Be safe,” Ashlynn warned.
“Always.” With no further conversation, Killian led Cailin, Elas, and Kenayde down the stage steps and back through the village. Before they had even disappeared, others were rising to go as well.
Nuala embraced Ashlynn with sadness in her eyes. “I'm sorry,” Ashlynn repeated.
“You are forgiven. My dear friend...I hurt for you. I remember your pain during that time. If only I had known.”
“It wouldn't have made a difference,” Ashlynn promised. “It's okay.”
Tasarin was gone before Ashlynn could speak to him, most of the others drifting away as well. Cavalon gave her a bear hug and kissed her cheek before moving on, eventually leaving her alone with Jaryn and Wessely. Tentative, Ashlynn took up the seat beside her father and grasped one of his hands in both of her own.
“Are you upset, Papa?”
His smile for her was small and sad. “You know me. I cannot stay angry for long, especially with my daughters. I am just...sad.”
She nodded and looked down. “Me, too.”
“You are so strong.”
Jaryn squeezed her shoulder. “Aye, that she is.”
Her answering chuckle was dry. “Some say strong, most say stubborn. Whatever it is, I'm thankful I have the two of you to lean on.” She sighed heavily. “If only Tasarin was the same.”
Jaryn crossed his arms and looked toward the setting sun. “He's an elf. They like to hold grudges.”
“Give him some time,” Wessely prompted.
Ashlynn grimaced and shook her head. “That's the problem, Papa. I don't know how much time I have to give.”
Chapter Seven
Niam was lost in his thoughts has he escorted Rowan back to the housing block. The journey had been quiet thus far, neither of them having much to say in the aftermath of what had been revealed at dinner. Everyone else had split off in different directions so she'd asked Niam to bring her back. “Well, this place used to be pretty.”
“How...” The young man looked at Rowan, nearly as tall as he was, confusion wrinkling his brow. “You're blind.”
Her eyes widened. “You don't say!” With a teasing giggle, she adjusted the hand she had wrapped around his arm. “I can see things through water or liquid. Even in summer there's a mist that falls over everything in the middle of the night. I can see things for a little while after I wake up through the condensation. Pretty simple.”
Niam nodded, impressed. “Can all water dragons do that?”
“I don't think so, though I've never met another blind water dragon.” Her shoulders lifted in a shrug. “I've never met another blind anyone, actually.”
“It must not be easy.”
“Sometimes it isn't, but most of the time I can do almost everything on my own. At Altaine, I don't even need an escort. I know the castle well enough that my walking stick is all the guide I need.”
“Were you always blind?”
“No. I could see up until I was three. Then I got sick with a fever. I don't know what it was, but it took my sight away.”
Niam looked at her with pity. “That's terrible.”
“It's not so bad. I remember some things like colors and my da's face. Since I realized I could see through water, I've been able to experience a lot more than I could before.”
“Step up,” he told her gently as they crossed over a path and onto grass.
“It sounds like you'll be coming back to Altaine. Will you be staying awhile?”
“I hope so. I could stand to get out of Faerston for a spell.”
“It would be nice to have someone else to talk to.”
Niam smirked. “You live in the castle of the capitol of Siness. Something tells me that a lack of people to talk to is not a problem you have. We're almost there, by the way.”
“I mean someone not so stuffy who knows how to get to the point when they're talking instead of dragging out a sentence.”
He couldn't help but laugh. “You mean use contractions.”
“Yes! I hate having to watch the way I talk around certain people. Although you are a little stuffy since you use titles.”
As they approached the building, the waiting guards opened the doors for the couple to pass through. Niam warned her of another step up before they were welcomed by the cool stone hallways of the manor house. “If my father taught me anything,” he told her, “it's to have respect for people. If you have a title it is because you earned it, and therefore, it should be used.”
“I didn't earn mine. My father earned his when Jaryn made him Master of Horse. They gave me a title just because of who I am to him, and because they love me like their own.”
“That's earning it in my eyes.”
“Well, earned or not, you can just call me Rowan.”
“It'll never happen,” he told her with a grin, “but the offer is appreciated.”
From somewhere down another hallway, the echo of an infa
nt's cry drew their attention. Rowan paused and tilted her head, making Niam stop in turn. Her lips curved upward as she listened to the sound. “I can't wait to see him.”
“I don't think they advise submerging newborns in water.”
Rowan couldn't stop herself from laughing and playfully swatted at his arm. “You know what I mean. Come on. Let's keep moving.”
Once more, they walked in companionable silence toward the room Rowan shared with the three other ladies. It was quieter than usual, with so many people already having left the village and waiting to sail home. “Faerston...” Rowan mused softly.
Niam nodded slowly, wondering what she was thinking. “That is my father's kingdom, yes.”
“There used to be a place in Ibays. I thought it was named something close to that.”
With a chuckle, he turned her down the final hallway. “Baerston Hold...yes. My great uncles, twins, fought over their inheritance. Being identical and having the parents they did, when it came time to pass the crown to the eldest, they naturally fought over who was truly the eldest and no one could really tell who was who. To settle the matter, Baerston was built on family lands and one of the brothers was sent there to his own castle, which wasn't a castle at all, but a really big house with a few turrets.”
The door to her room was just up ahead and was not shut, making Niam slow. It was unusual for an entrance into private quarters to be so open, especially given recent events. Are there usually guards outside your room?