by D. E. Morris
“Lilia,” she said easily. “I have not seen her for some time. She spoke of leaving earlier and I can only wonder if she made good on her word while I was sleeping.”
“Perhaps she has finally returned to her friends.” With meaning, Rhiamon glanced once more at the fiery dragon. “And what about you, dear Mairead? Do you also wish to return to your friends?”
With one hand, she held Esther closer against her. Her other hand clutched the neck of the cloak as her lips set into a thin line. “No,” she said quietly. “I am right where I need to be.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Ashlynn was propped up in bed, supported on all sides by a dozen different pillows as she shuffled through papers. A line of concentration had burrowed itself so deeply between her brows that she would be lucky if it had not become permanent. Nothing she read gave her much reason to smile. An inkwell sat open on her nightstand and the quill between her fingers waved gently in the breeze coming in through the open window. Reaching her arm back, she dipped the nib into the ink. She muttered to herself before setting the documents in her hands on the flat board in her la. The wrinkle in her brow deepened as she scratched out lines of text to add her own amendments.
Her bedroom door opened and she glanced up in irritation to see a servant interrupting her solitude without so much as a knock. Her lips parted with harsh words ready on her tongue until she saw Lochlainn entering after her, each step slow and careful as he balanced a tray in his hands, two enormous dogs patiently following him. The sight of her son diffused whatever abuses she was about to spout and made her bite both of her lips to keep herself from grinning too broadly over the concentration on his young face. “What are you doing?” she asked, struggling to keep her amusement from her voice.
“I brought you tea.”
“Really?” She made sure to sound especially impressed. “You brought hot tea all the way up from the kitchen just for me?” A glance at the serving girl made Ashlynn smirk; she immediately understood who had carried the tray most of the way. “How thoughtful of you. You must have started an hour ago at the pace you're going.” If he realized she was teasing him, he said nothing, all of his energy focused into not spilling or dropping the tray. “Do I see sweet bread as well? You are spoiling me, my child.”
His expression remained ever the same until he finally rested his burden atop her nightstand. He pushed her inkwell out of the way as he maneuvered around the third dog who was asleep on the floor beside Ashlynn's side of the bed. Only then did he beam at her with pride. “I didn't even spill a drop.”
She pinched his chin and bent over to kiss him. “Come up here with me. I cannot possibly finish this feast alone.” As she moved aside, Lochlainn climbed up onto the bed beside her in Jaryn's spot. He moved her pillows over so that she still had something to rest against until she wrapped her arms around him in a tight embrace that made him giggle.
“Mother, I need to breathe!”
“Oh, silly me. What was I thinking?” As she let him go, she nodded to the serving girl with a much more serene attitude. “You may go.” The woman curtsied, then left the two of them alone. “You have been doting on me far more than anyone else in this castle.” Ashlynn watched Lochlainn look over the scattered documents as though he knew what they said. He twirled the plain, thin metal ring on his finger, one every core member of Ashlynn's household now wore as a form of identification, in an absent manner. “You're putting everyone else to shame.”
He lifted his face to her, a sweet smile on his lips. “You're my mother, and I like taking care of you. You always take care of me when I'm not feeling well. Now it's my turn.”
She brushed the shaggy hair from his eyes, a tinge of sadness creeping into her heart. As much as she wanted to argue his logic, deep down she knew she couldn't. In truth, he was right. It was his turn. As the new Elemental of Earth, it was his turn to look after all the Gaels and dragons, and not just her. He was now responsible for their safety and well-being, and he was still only a child. “You know, you and I haven't really talked about what happened in Braemar. I wanted you to know that if you have any questions about what took place on the Isle of Contest, I can try to answer them. I don't remember very much, but I think it's important you know some of these things, given what you are. You aren't exactly a normal five-year-old.”
“Almost six. My birthday is in eight days.”
“Forgive me, Your Highness, almost six.” She smirked at his matter-of-fact tone. “I want to know what it was like for you, too. Were you scared?”
He shrugged and shook his head. “At first, but then it took so long that I stopped being scared. Then it just happened.” His brows came together. “Do you not remember from when it happened to you?”
“I was not yet five, actually making me the youngest Elemental in history, but we'll let it slide for now. No one really knows what happened to me the night I got my powers because everyone was watching your auntie Kenayde being born. I was with nannies who probably thought I'd had some sort of episode or maybe even feared I was possessed by a demon. I don't even know if they told my father because my mother died. Maybe they thought that was more important, and I was probably fairly fine afterwards. It's all a big mystery.”
Lochlainn let his head fall back against the pillow, his eyes wandering as he recalled the night of the purge. “I felt cold for a minute, and then I felt really hot. I couldn't stop shaking and that was the scariest part.” His eyes narrowed. “I think I fell asleep. One minute I was on the floor beside Lucien and the next, Papa had a hold of me and everyone was all around me.” Lifting his head, he looked at his mother. “There was a lady there. I met her before. She said she was a friend of yours.”
Suspicion made Ashlynn's muscles tighten. “Oh?”
“Her name is Brigid. She's very pretty.”
“You saw Brigid?” The idea of the woman who had brought her such peace also watching over her son was both comforting and confusing at the same time. “I saw her that night, too.” She knew that Merrik could create multiple images of himself. If Brigid was truly the Elemental of Benevolence as Badru suspected, perhaps her gifts were similar to Merrik's and she could do the same, witnessing the transfer as she watched over both Ashlynn and Lochlainn at the same time. How she longed to be able to reach out to the mysterious woman, to be able to have a conversation or ask her questions on a whim. “Did she tell you her name? Did anyone else see her?”
Lochlainn shook his head. “I think I was the only one who saw her in Braemar and when she talked to me on the hill here at Altaine. That was when she told me her name and that she was your friend.”
“She is my friend,” Ashlynn confirmed. “She is your friend now, too.”
“Look what I can do.” Attention swinging as rapidly as only a child's could, Lochlainn lifted a hand to show her the way his skin began to change into scales. No longer were they pale green and white, but a darker emerald with spots of gold and pearly white mixed within. “I've been practicing shifting all week. Everyone has been taking turns helping me. Auntie Kenayde and Niam are the nicest. Uncle Elas is my least favorite.”
Ashlynn smirked. “Yes, well, he has never been one to have a lot of patience. I'm glad they've been helping you. Cavalon will be especially proud of that trick you've just showed me there, as it is one he is fond of doing himself, the little show off. I could never really do it. I had a hard time just shifting enough to use my wings, also. You are already much farther ahead of me.”
“Does that upset you?”
“No,” she answered honestly. “It makes me incredibly proud.”
“It still hurts a lot when I shift my whole body.”
“It will get easier every time you do it. You're lucky to have so many Gaels around you that love you and want to help. When I was first learning to shift, I had no one, and it was a very difficult time.” Ashlynn poured herself some tea, sniffing it to make sure it was not her usual brew before taking a sip. “We didn't know Kenayde was a Gae
l back then and Cailin and I weren't really supposed to be friends so I couldn't turn to her for help.”
Lochlainn's bottom lip stuck out. “You must have felt so sad.”
“Sometimes I was. There were days I felt very lonely as a child”
“You were friends with Lucien's birth father too, right?”
The question brought a sweet, nostalgic smile to her lips. “Yes, Nóe and I were very close as well.”
“Is that why you love Lucien so much?”
Ashlynn chuckled. “I love Lucien because he is impossible not to love. He's a rascal who knows he can bat his big blue eyes and get away with almost anything.” The door opened once more and Vala poked her head in. “Speaking of people who can get away with anything by batting their eyes...” Her smile broadened and she waved the young woman into the room. “How are you feeling, my dear?”
Vala smiled and ducked her head. “I am quite well on the road to a full recovery, Your Majesty, thank you for asking. I came to pose the same question to you and to see if there was anything you needed. You have been cooped up in here for so long, I was afraid you might go mad with boredom but I see you have a handsome gentleman to keep you company.”
“At this point,” said Ashlynn drolly, “I say the more the merrier.”
Vala grimaced and bit her lip. “You are bored. I have my psaltery if some music might soothe?”
“Music would be lovely, Vala, thank you.”
As the girl hurried out of the room, Lochlainn sat up a little straighter in bed. “Mama, do I have to learn to play an instrument?”
She gave a thoughtful frown, tilting her head from one side to the other. “Most royals do.”
“I think I'll be too busy with Elemental things.”
Ashlynn raised her brows. “Oh, I see.”
“Grandfather can't play an instrument.”
“He most certainly can,” she corrected. “Just because you've never seen him play doesn't mean he can't. He is quite skilled with the pipe and tabor. Your grandfather Nir played the lute, and they both play the bagpipes. If anything, you have to learn those.”
As Vala came back into the room, Lochlainn frowned. “Does everyone in Siness have to learn how to play them?”
“Some traditions are not meant to be broken, child.”
Vala grabbed a stool from the side of the room and moved it to Ashlynn's bedside, her back to the window. With the stringed instrument resting in her lap, she pulled six small conical pieces of carved ivory from a black velvet pouch and slipped them over the tops of her index and middle fingers and both thumbs. Lochlainn strained his neck to get a better look at what she was doing, curiosity wrinkling his brow. When Vala glanced up and saw him, she smiled and let go of a quiet laugh. “Come sit beside me, little prince.”
Acquiescing, Lochlainn's eyes followed every pick as the song filled the large room, entranced by the movement more than the melody. When she stopped playing, she giggled and held out her hand to him with question. “Do you want to see them?”
“What are they?”
“Just simple finger picks.” Without asking, Lochlainn took the instrument from her lap to look it over. “I have another one with me if you would like to learn.”
“Maybe,” he conceded, testing the strings out himself as his father and Killian came into the room. At the sight of his son with an instrument in his hands, Jaryn's eyes lit up and he beamed, resting his hands on his hips.
“I bet you didn't know that I can play the psaltery too, did you?”
“You can play everything,” Lochlainn muttered, distracted and unimpressed.
Jaryn deflated. “Not everything, and I don't play with those little claw things, either. I play with hammers.”
This got the boy's attention and he looked up with interest. “Really?”
“Aye. Give that one back to Vala. I want to see how she plays and then I'll show you how a man makes music with that sort of instrument.”
Amusement flickered over Ashlynn's face and she shook her head, turning away from the three at her bedside to see if Killian had anything to report to her specifically.
“It is good to see you looking so well, Your Majesty.” His voice was so quiet that it was almost lost under the sound of the music that had begun once more, but it was not too difficult for Ashlynn to discern what he had said from the sincerity on his face.
“Thank you, Killian. I am feeling more like myself much quicker than I thought I would, to be truthful.”
“Your subjects will be all too glad to see you walking the halls of the castle again soon, then.”
Ashlynn looked down, her expression demure. “Yes, well, if it is the Giver's will.”
As if sensing his comment had somehow made her uncomfortable, Killian quietly cleared his throat and shifted on his feet. “Reports have come in this morning of an elf matching the description of the one that escaped execution last week. He has been spotted with a group of hunters little more than three hours' ride from here. Gianara believes there is a small family of light dragons they may be tracking and has taken Niam with her to possibly assist in relocating them. I have several men following at a safe distance, ready to aid if they come across the hunters. The elf, they have orders to kill upon sight.”
Vala's fingers spasmed and her head jerked up, the psaltery falling from her lap and tumbling to the floor in a terrible melody. Everyone immediately looked at her and Lochlainn hurried to pick up the fallen instrument. “Worry not, Lady Vala,” Killian soothed, seeing the worry in her wide eyes and elevated brows. “He will not harm you again. He will not have the chance.”
“Thank you, my lord,” Vala whispered, her voice tremulous. Her skin had gone white and she looked down as Lochlainn placed the psaltery back in her lap.
“By your leave,” Killian continued with a bow to Jaryn and Ashlynn.
“Keep us apprised of the situation,” said Jaryn, nodding his dismissal.
Concerned for Vala, Ashlynn lifted her eyes to Jaryn as Killian left the room. “Why don't you get your lute? I know Kenayde has been all wrapped up in loving on Allorah, but maybe we can even get her in here with her harp.” She winked at her son. “I can force myself to play with the baby in exchange for a concert.”
Lochlainn grinned. “I can force myself, too.”
“How does that sound to you, Vala?”
She nodded, forcibly trying to pull herself together. “Of course, Your Maj-”
“Ashlynn!” A female voice from out in the hallway pulled everyone's attention to the doorway, even the dogs, followed quickly by the sounds of more than one set of rushing feet. Taking their ques from the guards standing just outside, they saw the two armored men grip the hilts of their sheathed swords in careful preparation. Jaryn pushed his son toward Vala as all three dogs rose to their feet, growling. He stepped closer to the door himself, prepared to join in whatever fight may be coming his way. Vala stood, clutching her precious instrument but blocking Lochlainn with her body as she moved closer to Ashlynn to grasp her hand.
“Lady Lilia,” said one of the guards.
Relaxing, Jaryn exhaled and let his hand fall away from his sword just as Lilia rounded the corner. Connor was right behind. Her hair was in tangles and her skin was covered in dirt and soot, her sleeveless dress torn and dirty. Connor didn't look much better. She looked like a wild woman and had an air of terrified desperation about her as she entered the room. For the quickest moment she laid eyes upon Ashlynn and it seemed as though she would burst into tears. Then, all at once, she saw Vala, and a rage none of them had ever seen in Lilia came rushing to the surface. She bolted across the room, arms outstretched and fingers curled into claws as she reached for the psaltery. With a savage cry, she ripped the instrument from the younger woman's grasp and threw it to the ground before stomping on it.
The room erupted into a cacophony of wild barking, shouts of rage and confusion as Vala began to wail. She fell to her knees beside the splintered wood and limp strings as Jaryn an
d Connor each grabbed Lilia by an arm in an effort to stop her rampage, both of them shouting at her. Neither of them had a good enough grip on her, because in one shrug, she was free once more and jerking Vala to her feet by her injured arm. Vala cried out in agony, face contorted as Lilia brutally twisted her around.
“Who are you really?” Lilia demanded, swinging her free arm to try to ward off Jaryn and Connor. “What are you doing here? Are you one of Rhiamon's little spies?” She gave the girl a rough shake. “Tell me!”
“Stop it!” Ashlynn ordered, not for the first time. She held a terrified Lochlainn close while simultaneously trying to keep a grip on the collars of all three dogs. “Guards!” The last thing she ever thought she would have to do was to have men restrain someone she loved and trusted as she did Lilia, but she knew how powerful anger made a person and she didn't want anyone getting hurt, Lilia included. The two men came in at their queen's command, armored hands wrapping around Lilia's bare arms and pulling her free from Vala as though she had no strength to fight them at all.
“Get off of me!” she commanded. “She is a witch!”
Connor hurried past the guards, sparing a look toward Lilia that was a mixture of worry and embarrassment. “Are you all right?” he asked Vala.
“What is going on?” Jaryn asked, his voice an octave higher than normal in his confusion.
“Switch out,” Connor instructed Jaryn and one of the guards holding Lilia. To his beloved, he turned a heated glare. “Do not move. Do you understand me?” She said nothing and didn't take her eyes off of Vala even as the two men did as Connor suggested. With one of the guards now free, Connor gently pushed Vala forward toward him. “Take her to the infirmary. Have the servants bring her some wine.” The man hesitated, his uncertain gaze moving between his king and queen, but Connor shook his head. “There will be no further disturbances. I promise on my own crown, we are well in control of our emotions now, aren't we, Lilia?” She swallowed with great difficulty, her eyes dropping to the floor. “Take her,” Connor urged again. The guard did not move, however, until Jaryn gave him a nod.