“What are you talking about?” choked out Eryanth, feeling suddenly unsure. His eyes flitted from one immortal lord to the other.
Firan reached out and placed a firm hand on Eryanth’s shoulder. “Erzion did not go across the ocean after Diamond because he has been fighting for these lands, as he is sworn to do.” Firan lowered his head for a moment as if gathering his confidence to speak. He took a breath then looked his son in the eye. “I went after her. I saved her. Then I returned here—for you. I only realised who you were when I came here at Griana’s request. Erzion told me years ago of a young boy with blue wings who he thought might be Lexon’s descendant, but I had no idea who you truly were—until I saw you. You have some of my traits but you look so like your mother, it broke my heart. It made me sick to see you forced to fight Diamond, everyone in that room could see how you felt about her. I didn’t know how to get you out but I knew if I did a deal for Diamond, I could at least give you her safety. I have never felt so inadequate, so guilty as I did when I realised my only son had been brought up in such a hideous environment. I am truly sorry,” he finished on a broken whisper.
Eryanth tried to swallow but his mouth was too dry. His stomach twisted into knots, even as his mind was reeling.
Firan waved his hand and the shield fell.
Erzion pushed to his feet and rushed in. “Gods above, Firan. You have a son! And you didn’t tell me!”
Firan looked suddenly guilty.
“Why in the goddess did I not see it before? The blue hair. His eyes! You even have the same amount of mule-headed stubbornness!” Erzion declared. He shook his head, sending his red hair flying around his shoulders like flame.
“I am sorry, Erzion. I didn’t know how to tell you. I felt such a failure when I realised I had a son, and the woman I loved did not tell me. Kilar always knew she would be judged if anyone discovered our love. I failed her by following my heart when I first laid eyes upon her. We both knew we could never be together,” he took a breath. “And I failed my son by allowing that evil witch to get her hands on him.” Firan raised his other hand, holding Eryanth by both shoulders. “I am more sorry than you can ever know that I failed to get you out before she took your soul from this world. Since I met you, I too have had spies searching for your blood phial,” he smiled at Erzion. “Though it seems if I had been honest with my friend, we could have worked together to help you more.”
Eryanth stared at the male in front of him. Suddenly so many things became clear. His sapphire wings, his hair, the scaled skin upon his back and face, even his dragon, they were not a product of being a magical freak, merely a child of two races; part fae, part merman. He felt a smile tug at his lips. Now he understood how he had been able to save Diamond from the lake. Why he found the water so peaceful when other fae were petrified of it. Where his ability to command his magic into scaled armour and satin clothes came from. He had thought it his dragon, but maybe it was not.
He swallowed the ache in his throat, blinking away the burning from his eyes. This man he had once hated was his father! He tried to speak, to say something—anything. But he couldn’t. He could only look into his father’s anxious eyes and grieve the years they had lost. Yet he couldn’t help but rejoice in his heart, knowing who his mother and father were. They had not abandoned him; Griana had stolen him from them.
“What happened to my mother?” he managed to ask, albeit hoarsely.
Firan clenched his jaw. “I do not know for sure, but I believe the High Wizard may be able to help us with that question,” he answered darkly.
Eryanth saw the anger in the depths of his father’s gaze. He decided not to push further and merely nodded. “We will find out together,” he stated resolutely.
Firan’s eyes shone with unshed tears. “You look so like her,” he whispered in awe. “Strong, proud—beautiful. Although, I suspect that could be my influence,” he smiled rakishly and winked.
Erzion snorted a laugh.
Eryanth had to smile at his father’s attempt to lighten the mood. “So if my mother did not tell you about me, if she was already married, which I presume she was given that I have an older sister, how can you be certain you’re my father?” Eryanth asked, trying to hide the disappointment in his heart.
Firan grasped his face between warm blue hands. Eryanth did not even consider pulling away.
“No. I know you are mine. Look at yourself—and me. Truly look,” he beseeched Eryanth. “Your hair, your blue wings, the scales down your back.” Without any effort, a smooth oval of pale blue magic appeared in front of them both. It became a perfectly clear mirror. Firan released Eryanth’s face.
It was true. Different faces, with different coloured skin stared back, but they shared the same square jaw, the same slightly large nose. Now that he could see them together, he saw the same heavy brows.
What made him gasp was his completely unmarked, unscarred face. His fingers reached up and touched the place his scar had once been. His skin tingled. “It’s gone,” he whispered. “Her mark is gone.”
“Yes, it is,” agreed Firan. “She has no hold on you any longer. Besides, everyone knows only one female holds your heart, love and utter loyalty.”
Eryanth turned to his father. He gulped. A father. His flesh and blood—his sire. He blew out a steadying breath.
“I know. I feel the same,” said Firan softly. “When Lunaria granted the leaders of the Eight Kingdoms immortality, she said it came at a price. We all find it hard to sire children. Now I have a son. I only grieve the years we have lost together.” He looked to Erzion, who nodded in understanding.
“It is true,” Erzion replied. “Though I did not want a child until I met Elexon’s mother. Ophelia is my soulmate. I think that is why we became blessed with my son so quickly.”
Elexon swallowed at his father’s words.
Eryanth realised he could have that sort of loving and respectful relationship with Firan—if he allowed the Lord of the Wetlands into his life and his heart. “So who am I truly?” he whispered to himself. Though he had lost his identity long before Erebos had taken his soul.
Firan cocked his head, his blue hair glinting as the warm eddies of air in the cave lifted the silken strands.
Eryanth felt his own hair stir. A strand tickled his face. He brushed it away. It was strange to feel such sensations again.
“You are a prince of two kingdoms and king of another—or you will be once we reunite you with your queen. Your physical scars are gone, my son, and Griana has no hold over you, thanks to Erzion. That blood phial was your last tie to her.”
Eryanth turned to the Red Wizard. Shame heated his face. “I am truly sorry, Erzion, for the way I spoke to you. I should not have jumped to conclusions or accused you of abandoning your queen.” He spoke clearly, so the warriors nearby could hear him.
Erzion smiled, relief and understanding flashing across his face. “I understand, my king. You wish only to see your queen again, as do I.”
Eryanth released a slow breath. “Lunaria sent me back to help Diamond unite the sovereigns of the Eight Kingdoms. Together we stand a chance of defeating Erebos. Fir...” he began, then blinked, considering the merlord. His decision was far easier than he expected. Eryanth had never had a family, but knowing he had lost his own child, Eryanth realised how precious such blood ties were.
“Father?” he asked. His voice croaked. He cleared his throat and tried again. “What happened to Diamond?”
Firan swallowed hard, his gulp audible. But his shoulders squared, his face softening as he regarded Eryanth. “Griana broke her. Do you remember? She made Diamond watch as you died and Erebos made ready to take your body. Captain Sabiliar was paid to defile her and sell her into slavery. I waited until Griana was nothing more than a lingering stench in the air, then I attacked. We brought down his ship. I took Diamond, along with Attion and another, as far down Rhodainia’s coast as I dared. I wanted to return here—to see what I could do to free you from Erebos.”
> “Who was the other person?”
“A Fire Priest,” answered Firan.
Even Erzion drew a sharp breath at that.
“Why would a Fire Priest help her?” asked Eryanth.
“The Fire Priests have always had a close relationship to the rulers of the Fire Mountains. That is why the High Wizard has never trusted them,” Erzion answered gravely. “I have something important to show you both,” he told them.
Eryanth’s skin prickled at the tone in the Red Wizard’s voice. Even Firan regarded him with narrowed eyes.
“Then we will follow you, Lord Wizard, but first, I should like to know where Diamond was heading. Where was she going, father?” He kept his face calm when using that word.
Firan smiled. “She was going to keep her promise to you. Right now she is heading towards the Southern Hotlands with Attion as her guard. My men have informed me Prince Rayan helped her escape Rhodainia. He is the High Wizard’s eldest son. I sent my men to aid her, but,” he smiled, looking almost proud, “she did not need them. She has found her own way to begin negotiations.”
“But Firan, Kalib will instantly know who she is. He will kill her,” said Erzion.
“I don’t think so. I have faith that she can protect herself, even without magic. She is clever. Already she has befriended his son and heir. And Kalib will see the value in at least pretending to support a possible future ruler—for now.”
“We must take an army to find and protect her, before he turns on her,” Erzion said gravely.
“No, my friend. You and your army are needed here,” Eryanth replied kindly but firmly. “Erzion, I am grateful for so much that you have done, not just for me but for the thousands that you have saved and protected over your long life. The goddess knows of your loyalty and loves you for it—more than you know, but you must stay here and protect these lands. If we fail, if Diamond and I fail, you and your army are our last hope of salvation.”
Erzion dipped his head with tears in his eyes. “I am afraid, my king, if Diamond dies then there will be no salvation—for any of us.”
“What do you mean?” Dread coiled in his belly, making his dragon awaken.
“Come with me,” Erzion replied, turning away, his cloak billowing behind him. “Elexon, ready your men. You will be leaving with our king, within the hour.”
“Leaving?” asked Elexon, his voice tight. “But you need me here.”
“No, commander, I do not. I need you to go with our king. Your queen ordered you to become his guard and you will remain as such until she orders otherwise.” Then his voice softened. “My son, you are a warrior, as am I. I have survived many battles and I will survive this one—if our goddess wills it. Do not worry about your mother, either. She has her own guard now. Though, perhaps it would be advisable for a healer to go with you.”
Eryanth saw his friend’s throat bob.
“Take Rose. She can help if any of you become injured.”
“I’m not sure she will agree to accompany me, or be strong enough to survive such a mission, father,” Elexon said gruffly.
“I think you underestimate her strength and her feelings, son. Perhaps you should be the one to inform her of my orders. Now, please leave us. I have something to show our king and his father.” He was a lord ordering his commander.
Tight lipped, Elexon nodded. He would not argue with his father. Curtly, he dismissed the red wings and strode away, his spine ramrod straight.
Eryanth turned to Erzion, his brows raised expectantly, anxious to be on his way across the Rough Seas.
“Follow me,” was all the Lord of Catava said.
Inside the study Eryanth and Diamond had once visited, Erzion unlocked his desk drawer. He saw Eryanth’s face and shrugged. “If my enemies ever made it this far, all would be lost anyway,” he pointed out.
“That’s probably true,” agreed Firan with a grin and a shrug.
“What I have to show you, none have seen for a thousand years. It was left for me by the Goddess of Truth,” Erzion said, grim-faced. Clutched in his hand was a yellowed scroll. “This is the true Veritas Scroll.”
“Griana’s is a fake?” sputtered Eryanth.
“Oh, elements of it are true. Such as the vessel of Erebos being a powerful magic-wielder...but along with the wizard who helped forge it, I decided to leave out the most important bits of information.”
“Such as…” prompted Eryanth impatiently.
“This tells of the only way to kill a god,” Erzion whispered, as if he did not want the gods themselves to hear those words.
For a moment Eryanth stood and stared at the scroll. Firan glanced questioningly at him. Eryanth swallowed hard and took the parchment from Erzion’s grip. Then, with his father by his side, he uncovered the greatest secret of the Eight Kingdoms.
Chapter 30
Diamond inhaled the aroma of the perfumed smoke—and coughed.
Attion huffed. “Can’t say it’s my favourite smell, either,” he commented. “But at least it keeps those damned nasty bugs away. The vicious little bastards eat me otherwise,” he bemoaned the mosquitoes.
Diamond chuckled at Attion’s irritation, watching as a young wizard lit another slow burning wick. A heavy, perfumed aroma hung around the camp as more were lit. Nearby, a group of young trainee wizards were erecting the large canvas tents that provided shelter for the wizard prince and the commanders who had met them at the docks.
Diamond watched with interest as a tough-looking woman corrected their spells and the tents seemed to put themselves together.
Thanks to the burning oils, the whining of insects lessened until only the strange sounds of the jungle were audible. Diamond’s eyes felt heavy. The smoke was heady, and the constant heat throughout the day had drained her energy. For a moment she closed her eyes and absorbed the wild symphony.
This amazing land was so full of beautiful distractions, new foods, new smells, a new language and so many new plants and animals it was mind-blowing. Her days were full of language and etiquette lessons with Prince Rayan. He was proving an interesting, if somewhat impatient, teacher.
Diamond had never learned another language. Even living in a trade town had not lent itself to that skill, not when her dual heritage had banned her from most businesses in the trade quarter. It seemed, though, she had an aptitude for picking up a new way of speaking. She found Ionian particularly musical and easy.
A bead of sweat trickled down her temple. She wiped away the irritation.
The nights here were just as hot as the days. Hugo would have loved it, but she did not. Diamond longed for a cool rain on her face or a blast of an icy wind trying to steal her cloak. The constant heat was draining, especially in the evenings when she trained with Attion.
Attion, fully green now, was far stronger than he had been before. He did not hide his magic from her during their training sessions, only tempered it.
“You need to learn to deal with a magical attack too,” he told her, no hint of bending his decision when she fell to her knees and sobbed at the very feel of it. He merely helped her back to her feet and said, “Hugo would never let you stop. Neither will I, Diamond. Fight back. Get used to feeling magic without having any. You will be fighting magic-wielders, and you must learn to survive,” was his blunt response.
He was right. Hugo would have growled and snarled and pushed her until she stood and fought back out of sheer anger at him.
She was grateful. Attion’s physical training regime prevented her from dwelling on her dark mood. It was only at night that she couldn’t hold back the vast emptiness in her soul. She had used Otekah’s teachings to block her mating bond with Hugo before the cold and agony of his existence broke her completely. Now, it was as if her mind and body were functioning and obeying her, but her soul was empty—lost.
Her only way of coping with that void was to ignore it, as she did the loss of that tiny little soul that she and Hugo had made with their love.
She simultaneously thanked t
he Guardians and her grandmother for blessing her with a child and cursed them for taking him away so soon.
She wondered where his tiny soul had gone, if the Guardians had taken him to care for. She swallowed the bile that burned her throat, praying hard that Erebos hadn’t taken him.
She stared into the fire Tawne had made, preferring the beauty of the dancing flames to conversing with anyone. It was comforting to inhale the smell of burning wood and feel the heat searing her face. It reminded her of the one she loved—her Nexus, her guardian.
It wasn’t only the heat and smoke that burned her eyes as she became aware of another presence near her.
“Diamond, perhaps you would like to come and dance with us—with me,” Rayan asked quietly enough that no one other than Attion heard him. “A little bit of relaxation—and joy—may do you good,” he advised, compassion in his eyes when he noticed the tears lining hers.
Nearby a stringed instrument was playing while off duty guards and the entourage the High Wizard had sent to meet Rayan clapped enthusiastically. She watched them for a while, remembering the last time she had danced and had fun. Pushing away memories of Reese and Tallo, she looked up at Rayan’s face.
Although the wizard prince had a hard exterior, especially with his men, he hid a gentle kindness that only shone through when they were not being observed by his kinsmen. He led with a steel will and listened carefully to his advisors, but he was no politician. Patience was not a skill Rayan exhibited. Diamond was glad she could pick languages up quickly or her days might not have been so pleasant.
“Maybe, my queen, you should go and join them,” Attion advised, his face blank.
Diamond thought they were both right. She needed some joy to chase away her sadness, but she just couldn’t, not yet… She looked up into Rayan’s piercing blue eyes, which shone even more brightly in the flames, and smiled an apology. “I am sorry, Rayan. I fear I am a little tired. Perhaps another time,” she said, dropping her eyes on her last words.
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