Witherstone- Wings of My Legion

by Elizabeth Holland

  “The High Prince has arranged a room for each of you,” one knight leaned back and spoke to us through the low, rectangular window at his back. Bryn nodded in reply. The Haldors, no matter how cruel or cold-hearted they could be, were known to throw lavish, decadent gatherings, or so I’d heard. I had known them for less than a year, and it was already something I had expected. Bryn wasn’t shy about sharing past memories with me and anyone else who knew about them.

  But this thought brought a new question to mind.

  “Hey,” I shook her arm as she stared out at the courtyard. She hummed in response, her eyes still investigating the other carriages. “Tristan told me he’d never seen a full-blooded dragon in Skye Sorn before.” Again, she hummed to agree. Now I noticed a young woman tending to the horses and the way Bryn’s eyes wouldn’t leave her. “Bryn,” I shook her arm until she looked at me. “Will Elliot even be here?”

  Bryn’s eyes lowered over me. And then she shrugged.

  I sat back and huffed and talked to myself as she went back to watching the young woman from afar.

  “He’s not even here. Why would he be here? Why did I even come?”

  And as our carriage rounded the back of the castle and came to a stop, I heard Tristan’s comforting and gentle voice blanket my nervous bones.

  “Because you’re my friend.”

  I couldn’t exit the carriage fast enough. It had been too long and I missed him. I really missed him. I jumped at him and took him tight in my arms, and, within the same breath, he put me down and glared over me, pinning to my belly in a direct bullseye.

  I got ready to say something—anything really—when he quickly grabbed my arm and led me inside. I could hear people talking in the area adjacent to us as he hurried me into a little darkened room. After closing the door, Tristan rushed past me to the table at my back. He struck a match and lit a couple of candles, and the room was suddenly aglow.

  “No electricity?” I kind of mumbled.

  “Nope,” he spoke firmly.

  I found myself rubbing my arms and fidgeting my feet as I waited for him to light a couple other candles across the room. I discovered there was a sofa and two small chairs in that room, all of which were made with details and designs that mimicked the forestry of Skye Sorn itself.

  “Irene,” Tristan’s voice caught my attention. I looked right at him as he blew out the match and sat on the sofa. “Come here,” he told. I did as he asked and then waited for him to—apparently—find the right words before speaking. “Please, just tell me this,” he began with a hesitant sigh. Taking my hands in his, he leaned closer and asked, “Did this happen before or after the ritual?”

  He wasn’t going to like my answer; the tone in his voice was evidence enough.

  I pressed my lips together and swallowed hard, and then he dropped my hands and stood.

  “Did you know?” he demanded an answer.

  “Are you serious?”

  “Did you know all these times? You’ve been traveling, fighting, trekking… Irene, you’ve died twice!”

  “Yeah, you don’t have to announce it or anything,” I crossed my arms. “It wasn’t exactly planned you know.”

  Tristan grunted as he exhaled—almost like a dragon would—and then he shook his head. I could see he was disappointed in me, but not for the baby. It was because of the danger I had put myself and her in all this time.

  “If I had known, believe me, I would’ve been more careful.”

  He rolled his lip against his teeth, then reluctantly nodded. “I know you would have. But now, do you even know if… if it’s alright?”

  “She,” I cleared. “My aunt sort of checked me over last night,” I informed. “The baby’s been pretty active, and you can hear her.”

  “I heard her clearly,” he mumbled in thought. “And the stone? The darkness?”

  “Well, the ritual took the darkness away,” I more-or-less asked. Right? I hope. “My aunt and I think the gray is from her father.”

  “What gray?” he came close again, taking a seat to study my eyes. He knew what I meant. He must have seen it happen before.

  “The gray in my eyes,” I gazed back at him with a blank stare. “Have you seen it before?”

  Tristan’s jaw tightened as he looked to the floor. “I saw it in Iliana’s eyes a long time ago.”

  “Gray?”

  “No,” he shook his head. “Gold, bright and sparkly like the heavens reflecting on the lake.”

  “She was one with your daughter,” I assumed. Tristan lowered his head a little more with a slight nod. I knew nothing would ever take that pain away, but that it was more than just the loss. The way Markus handed Iliana over to Lorcan, the way Lorcan had no idea of Natalya… it was all so sad.

  “The ritual went perfect, so, in theory, the baby should be without any of the stone’s essence.”

  “Right,” I nodded.

  “There’s no reason to believe she won’t be born healthy,” he leaned up and folded his hands together. “But you must be careful, Irene. She was just like the others who had come before her. The other elves.”

  “Elves?” I mumbled.

  “The dark elves were born because the stone gave them life. Just like her,” he glanced at my belly. In the breaks, the pauses and the silence, I could hear her drumming, strong and steady. “I don’t know what that’ll mean once the stone is destroyed.”

  “I don’t either,” I shook my head. “But we have to finish what we started. I know it’s a risk, but I have to believe things will be better once the stone is gone.”

  “I hope you’re right,” his eyes met mine before glancing over my belly once again.

  I let out a long sigh as I paced around the bedroom. The one Lorcan had prepared for me. Tristan had shown me where it was, even though I’d get lost if I went wandering around on my own anyway, before he left to get his sister for the funeral.

  A light knock came to the door and I froze where I stood.

  “Yes?”

  “Lady Irene,” an unfamiliar voice spoke. “The High Prince is requesting your presence in the library.” Of course, he is. I went to the door and opened it to find a little woman with rounded rosy cheeks patiently waiting for me to answer.

  “There’s a library?”

  “Forty-two thousand, three hundred and fifty-five books, to be exact,” the woman told me as we approached a set of tall chestnut doors down a dark hallway. “Most of which are first editions,” she grinned as she turned the handle and pushed the door open. The leather, the parchment, the ink… it was intoxicating. I felt free and restless and drunk on the possibilities. The place was two stories tall, lined with shelves upon shelves, and lit by the giant window in the center of the back wall.

  “Darling,” Lorcan’s voice froze me. “Thank you, Flora,” Lorcan nodded to the woman, who then closed the door and left us alone. He was standing at a desk with a strange grin on his face. As I went to him, my steps echoed in the open air around us. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there to greet you, but I—”

  I bit my lip as I fidgeted in place.

  “A baby?” he grinned. His gaze softened as he came near. “A powerful baby for sure,” his brow lowered in thought. “How are you feeling?”

  “Well,” I tucked my bangs behind my ear as he walked me to the little cushioned bench under the window. The sky was perfectly blue and warming there beneath the glass. “I’ve had a hard time sleeping,” I laughed it off. Why I was so candid with him was a mystery.

  “I’m sure the dreams have been pleasurable, though,” he tilted his head as if to say something without having to say it. I felt my face warm.

  “I mean, sure,” I stammered. “It’s been… I don’t know,” and he began to laugh. “Shut up.”

  “I’ve seen proud dragon women turn into feral beasts during the bewilderment. Don’t feel embarrassed by your nature.”

  I accepted his words, oddly enough, as permission to indulge in my dreams. Why not? Elliot was somewhere else
, and that wasn’t about to change. Why did I have to refrain from enjoying myself while he traveled the world and lived in luxury?

  Gawking at the furnishings of the room, my eyes went from one corner to the other.

  “You like it,” Lorcan stood and went to a neighboring shelf.

  “Yeah,” I got up and followed. “This place puts my bookstore to shame.”

  “Nonsense,” he faced me just after pulling a book from the shelf. “Your books and my books are nothing alike.”

  “They aren’t?” I wondered as I began to read some of the titles. I found it surprising that most of them were in English. “Are they from Earth?”

  “We’re all from Earth, darling. Just another plane,” he grinned as he snapped the book shut. Replacing it for another, he leaned his head to scan me over in the sunlight. “You’re not, though.”

  “I’m not?”

  “Well,” he took in the air as his eyes traveled to the floor. “Irene, you’re something else. You know that.” I gave a slow, curious nod. “Of course you’re mortal and you’re dragon, but you were chosen by nature to be the temple of an ancient ritual, while pregnant no less!” he shook his head with a wide smile. “It’s astonishing.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  “You might scoff at the idea, but your life has all been driven in this path for a reason,” he walked me back to the bench. “You were meant to have this child, this Hethsheba.”

  “Hethsheba,” I whispered. How could I have forgotten the dream? “Goddess.”

  “Yes,” his eyes brightened. “She will be a goddess, there’s no mistaking that.”

  I shook my head and then pulled my feet up under my thighs. “How do I raise a goddess?” I sneered. Leaning to my elbows, I let my hair fall around my eyes. “How do I teach her to read? To ride a bike? How do I put her in timeout?”

  Lorcan laughed. “Just do what your mother did.”

  It couldn’t really be that simple. Could it? My mother raised us, and she did a fantastic job. My aunt was always there to help, and we often visited our grandparents during the summertime. With a strong team of people to help, my mother didn’t have too much trouble with us. And besides, the dragon nature emerges later. It wasn’t like she’d come out bearing wings and breathing fire.

  “She won’t breathe fire,” I mumbled in doubt.

  “Hm?” Lorcan turned to me after thumbing through some pages of a dainty book.

  “My daughter will be a water dragon, and she’ll be connected to the darkness.”

  “Just like dear old dad,” he teased.

  “Yeah,” I smiled. “I hope she isn’t scared of it, though.”

  “Of what?”

  “The darkness element. Elliot was terrified of it.”

  Lorcan lifted his chin just before handing me the book he had held for the past few minutes. The cover was dark red and had a scrolling pattern that framed the illustration of a tree. The details were all embossed in gold, and the words were in Lorcan’s native tongue—or at least I thought so. I flipped through a few pages and could smell the open air and fresh ink on each sheet of old paper.

  “I can’t read these words,” I smiled to him.

  “I can read some of it, if you’d like,” he offered as he took hold of the book.

  “Is it one of your favorites?” I studied his response.

  He thumbed through the book until he found an illustration about a third of the way in. His eyes moved over the page like waves claiming sand pebbles on the beach. “It’s called The Tale of the Yester Yew.”

  “The Yester Yew?” I repeated in curiosity.

  “When the world was young, and the air was pure, three saplings came from the soil and into the sun.” Lorcan paused to stare over the drawing of the three little trees. I could tell he enjoyed the story just by the weight he had given to each word. “One of these saplings grew into a yew, a sturdy and enduring object of nature’s finest work. This yew, however, did not belong to the world of the mortals. So, it reached out its branches and touched the sky, and there it found warmth and solace. And in this new world, its roots took hold and made it stronger and healthier than it had ever been.”

  Lorcan looked over to me as I sat eager for more. With a grin, he continued.

  “The sky land began to grow, and soon the tree wasn’t alone. Not only had the Mah’mana birds taken flight, and the Splaevir—those are like dolphins,” he leaned and whispered to me, “claimed the sea, but a creature, fresh from the roots of the Yester Yew itself, came out from the brush. And as this creature stepped into the sunlight for the first time, its energy ignited and my people were born.”

  Lorcan leaned into me a little and laughed, “Breathtaking, isn’t it?”

  “Yes,” I took the book from his hands and examined the images. I would never be able to read his language; I knew that much. I loved reading, and I loved languages, but my mind was too occupied with other things. “What about the other two saplings?”

  Lorcan hummed at the thought, and I watched his chest rise as he scanned the shelves. “I have those stories too. If only I organized this place,” he grinned.

  “I’d love to hear more,” I told him. “Do these stories tell of elements?”

  “Some do,” he said. “Irene,” he said my name like there was something I needed to hear, something that might not be too pleasant. “I recently accompanied a friend of mine to London, where I saw your Lord.” Go on. “He was attending meetings with the leaders of the local legions. And he did not look well.”

  “Was he okay?” I felt my heart flutter a little.

  “I don’t believe it’s the darkness inside of him that is tearing him apart,” Lorcan spoke softly as he paused for the right words. “I believe it’s that he’s trying to control it that’s leaving him ravaged from the inside out.”

  I had to remind myself to breathe.

  “I have to see him,” I stood fast, but Lorcan grabbed my arm.

  “He won’t be here,” the High Prince made clear. “He will never step foot in this realm; his own choosing.”

  “Then I need to leave,” I pulled free and went to the door.

  “Irene, please,” Lorcan was quick to reach to the doors before me, holding them closed until I heard him out. “Stay for me. Just this one day. I’ll call upon Manon to give you a vision of Elliot. Maybe it’ll give you peace.”

  I leaned back and crossed my arms. “And what if I see something I don’t like?”

  Lorcan’s eyes traveled around my face for a moment. “Then I’ll personally take you to him.”

  I let his offer play out in my mind before responding.

  If I left right then, without knowing how Elliot was currently doing, it could either be risky or a waste of time. Elliot might be learning to adapt; he might be handling things much better than before. Or, if I was right, he could be a danger to the baby and me. Even if he didn’t mean to be. And if I stayed to see the vision, and if all was fine, then I could stay for the funeral and see the new king in the moment of the marking.

  I gave Lorcan a nod.

  “Wonderful,” he released the door. “Let’s go find the dear.”

  Lorcan led me down a hall that came to a tall, arched entrance. Inside the airy room stood walls of red velvet and floors of marble. The lights were off, and when I followed Lorcan inside, my flats made echoey, clicking noises.

  “Fascinating,” I whispered.

  “Yes, you should see it on a Saturday night,” Lorcan grinned.

  Following him through the room to the doorway on the opposite side, I found it hard to keep up. He was the tallest person I knew; his stride was twice mine. As he passed through the doorway, I rushed a little to catch up.

  “Where is she?” I asked once I got to his side.

  Lorcan rounded the next corner and we were in a small hallway that faced the sun. The little windows that sat up high over the white and floral wall coverings let the warm light cascade down over our bodies. Lorcan stopped outside a p
ale blue door and knocked with a grin.

  “Dearest Manon, I have someone to see you,” Lorcan spoke.

  The door handle clicked twice, and then the door creaked open. There she stood, Manon in all her beauty.

  “Lady Irene,” she smiled and tilted her head in respect.

  “It’s nice to see you again,” I bowed just a little to show my mutual respect. Manon was timeless; her nature was something I could never truly understand or surpass.

  “Would you like to see your Lord?” she asked me. I would never get used to the magic of the enchanted.

  “Very much, please,” I nodded with a gracious smile.

  Lorcan left us alone then. I went into the room Manon was staying in and let her gather her things. Candles, a few talismans… the woman was a natural and needed very little. And it made me wonder something. How ancient was she truly? How much had she seen in her life? No one had explained much about Manon, Sanne, or Dune to me. Just that they were powerful, long-lived, and capable of things I couldn’t even imagine.

  “Come sit,” she smiled to me. On the floor, she had set up a circle. Sitting down on one side, Manon crossed her legs and sat tall. I sat opposite her, reaching out to take her hands. The room was cold and full of shadows. She had a few things of her own, I could tell. Her shoulder bag on the bed, a scarf on the dresser, slender black high heels—a little brown book tucked under her purse. I almost jumped up to check it out, hoping it was something like the Galdorvore, but Manon’s grip intensified. Her eyes slowly closed, and then she began to whisper some words like Charlotte did in my apartment.

  “Go to him,” her eyes popped open, and they were utterly golden. And with another blink of my eyes, I was no longer in that room.

  This vision was unlike the others. Maybe it was because Manon had more power than my aunt or Charlotte, maybe it was because I had—hopefully—finished the bewildering phase of the pregnancy. Either way, I entered the vision with a glaring blur around my sight. Like the way the city lights look at night through a wet, foggy window. I could hear things, but the sounds were also distorted.

  “Hello?” I spoke, careful not to be too loud since I wasn’t able to make sense of my surroundings.