by D. E. Morris
“It's me!” the boy cried, raising his hands. “It's me!”
Jaryn lay back down, groaning more swears until his head was on his pillow. In the next instant, however, he raised himself up on his elbow to glare at Connor and boom, “Do you have any idea how late it is?”
“Hush!” Cailin chided, though she turned her own angry scowl to the boy. “Where have you been?”
The way they were both reacting to him made Connor cross his arms, defensive. “I was with Gia. Why are you sleeping in the chairs?”
“Don't change the subject,” Cailin commanded. “You can't just go running off at your whim, Connor.”
He pulled his cap off, giving her a fake smile. “Where would I go? We're stuck here, remember?”
Jaryn stabbed a finger in his direction. “You have been a coddled little prince your entire life. You know nothing of the world and nothing of the people here. Do not think for a second that we are safe, simply because we were given some freedom. We are all being scrutinized and will continue to be until we're able to get off this wretched island. If you slip up-”
“I'm not going to slip up!” Heat colored Connor's cheeks. “For your information, I learned more about this island in the last few hours than Misuzu, Cailin, or you combined since we've been here.” His fists were balled at his sides, and for a long moment, all any of them did was stare at each other. When the tension felt as it's breaking point, Jaryn huffed.
“Well go on, then - tell us what you know.”
Connor's jaw clenched in stubborn defiance, but it was impossible to keep his knowledge inside with such a willing audience ready to listen. He told them everything he had seen and experienced, animated as he used his hands to draw pictures in the air for them. His eyes lit up when he recalled the moment on the cliff with all the dragons, and there was great admiration on his face when he spoke of the man working on a remedy for the injured water dragon. At the mention of the song played, Cailin and Jaryn looked at each other with a knowing nod, but it hardly stopped the boy from continuing his report. He gave every detail about the hatchlings that he could remember, and spoke in wondrous tones when recalling the rookery where all the dragon eggs were kept, warmed by burning fires deep in the heart of the central mountain and cared for by specially trained individuals.
“Gia said she thinks I'd be really good with the hatchlings. You should see the eggs. They're just like the dragons, all different sizes, shapes, and colors. Oh, and there's also special housing for the ten Volarim that live here.”
The afterthought tacked on at the end of his colorful report made both Cailin and Jaryn take a bit more notice.
“There are Volarim here?” Cailin asked.
Connor sat on the floor to pull his shoes and stockings off. “They're scouts, pretty much, working with others who have joined in the cause to protect natural dragons. Did you know that ninety percent of the dragons here are natural?”
Jaryn and Cailin looked at each other once again. “We've got to find a way to get one of them to deliver a message to Ashlynn,” Jaryn asserted.
“And one to Ibays,” she agreed, “so they know Connor is alive and well.”
“I already did that.”
“What?” Both adults turned him with surprise, and Cailin asked, “How did you do that if you were with Gia?”
“I asked her if I could send a message to my foster father in Ibays, to let him know I was okay and happy. Then I asked to send one to my true beloved in Siness. We were forbidden to see each other once I was betrothed, you know.” He grinned, proud of his deception. “So my foster father, Fintan, will see that I am well. He'll know from the words I used that I am perfectly fine and not to send armies to scour the countryside for me. To my true love, Ashlynn, being held within Altaine castle under duress by her parents, I wrote to say that my caring brother, Jaryn, has taken me, his mistress Cailin, and our air dragon somewhere safe, that we are all well, and that I will return to see her as soon as I can. Or something like that.” Connor shrugged. “Gia read and approved them, so the messengers were sent forth. They should reach their destinations tonight.”
Jaryn grinned at the boy, all anger dispelled at this happy revelation. “You brilliant boy, you!”
“Well done,” Cailin conceded.
“See? You can trust me. I really like Gia and I think she likes me. These people don't strike me as those that would willingly harm anyone unless they were backed into a corner.”
Neither of the other two said anything, but something silent passed between them. Eventually, Cailin nodded toward the empty bedroom. “Go on. It's late. We can talk more about all this in the morning.”
Connor stood with his socks and shoes in hand. “Gia said to remind you of morning meeting. I told her we lost a bucket, too, so she said we could get another one.”
Cailin wrapped the lanky boy in her arms, giving him a tight embrace before ruffling his hair. “Off to bed with you.”
He grinned. “Goodnight.”
Jaryn fell back against his pillow, a sigh of relief on his lips. “I can't tell you what a weight has been lifted just knowing Ashlynn will know we're all right. The message may be cryptic, but she'll figure it out somehow.”
“Are you sure you won't let me sleep there, Jaryn? You'll feel better if you take the bed.”
He waved a hand. “I'm fine. This is quite comfortable, actually.” Giving her a thankful smile, one that came easier than it had the few previous days, he said, “Go back to sleep. It sounds like we have an early morning to look forward to.”
She frowned, looking as though she might argue, but finally shook her head. “All right. Sleep well, Jaryn.”
“You, too.” He watched her go and listened to the door close, then turned on his side to look at the embers in the bottom of the fireplace. With a contented deep breath, he closed his eyes and tried to find sleep.
Chapter Twenty
“Ashlynn! Ashlynn, wake up!”
Someone said her name and gripped her, shaking her as they called again. “Ashlynn!” A new voice called her name this time, a female, frightened. Ashlynn struggled, against the pull of the voices or against the pull of sleep she didn't know, only that she struggled. She was shaken again, and everything suddenly came into focus. With a gasp of confusion, she sat up in bed, clutching her blanket to her. Lilia was staring at her with wide, fear-filled eyes, Mairead just behind her. Cavalon was there, too, holding a small empty glass vial in his hands with a look of anger on his face.
“Did you drink this?”
Ashlynn blinked several times, fighting to keep her eyes open. She tried to shake the fogginess by pushing her hair back from her face. “What time is it?”
“It's the middle of the night,” Cavalon barked. “Did you drink this?”
She sighed and lay back down. “It's a sleeping potion, Cavalon, not poison.”
“You know how addictive Badru said this stuff can be.”
Lilia's forehead was wrinkled when she looked at Cavalon. “I didn't even know she'd taken anything.”
“It's the first time.” Ashlynn took all three in, their expressions ranging from anger, to fear, to careful concern. “I haven't been sleeping well since Jaryn left and I'm exhausted. I needed to have one night where I slept through right until morning. Clearly that isn't happening now.” She turned the full extent of her glare on Cavalon. “Did you wake me up just to yell at me?”
He put the vial back on the side table, glowering. “If I had known you drank that, you better believe I would have.” There was a brief disappointment-filled pause before he admitted, “A messenger arrived with an unmarked letter. She said she was told to give it to no one but you.”
Curious, Ashlynn sat up. “Unmarked?”
“There is a wax seal but no crest.”
Adrenaline surged through her veins and she threw her covers back. “Lilia, get me my robe. “Mairead...”
“I already have your slippers here.”
As soon as the robe wa
s fastened tightly around her, she and Cavalon hurried out of the room. The two younger girls made to follow, but Ashlynn told them to stay put. She tossed her long, unruly braid over her shoulder as she tried to keep apace with Cavalon's longer strides. “Where is the messenger?”
“Down in the grand foyer. I left your watch dog with her.” Ashlynn gave no reply to the comment about Killian, only cast a sideways glance up at the Badarian. His return look was as unapologetic as ever.
When they reached their destination, Ashlynn first saw the young woman, her blue and silver butterfly wings almost sparkling in the torchlight that surrounded her. Killian stood nearby, his stance casual even though his hand rested on the sword at his side. “Ashlynn Stuart,” he announced softly as she reached the young woman.
“You have a message for me?” The girl nodded and held out the parchment, folded and held shut with a dark blue blob of wax.
“A return message is not required.” Before anyone could ask her anything further or even try to stop her, her body was enveloped in a bright white light. When it was gone, all that remained was a small butterfly that quickly flew away.
Ashlynn broke the wax with only a frown to spare for the departure of the Volar. As she unfolded the parchment, Cavalon stepped up beside her to read over her shoulder without shame. “My dearest Ashlynn,” she read quietly, confusion wrinkling her brow. “Forgive me for not writing sooner, but we were caught up in our plan and detained in our departure. Please know that we are all safe; my brother Jaryn, his beloved Cailin, and of course our sweet dragon, Misuzu. Though I miss you dreadfully, I cannot come to you immediately. My brother says he knows what it is like to be separated from his true love, and the ache that it brings to the heart, so I am not alone in my sorrow, for he has shared them once himself. He has been good to me, more like a father than a brother, and I am thankful for his kindness, as well as that of Cailin, while I strive to understand what life here is like. I send every ounce of my love, however, and beg you know that I am well...that we are all well. I do hope we see each other soon. Your most loyal and beloved servant, Connor.” She blinked and looked up at Cavalon. “What is this?”
He took the letter from her and read it over again to himself. “Connor's the Ibayish brat, right?”
“He is the Ibayish high king,” Killian corrected.
Ignoring him, Cavalon asked, “Why would he be writing to you? I thought they all went there to confront him about the attack on the castle.”
“I don't know.” She took the letter back to read once more, silently, before beginning to examine each sentence carefully. “We were caught up in our plan and detained in our departure...caught and detained.”
“Caught by who?” Cavalon asked. “And why would Connor be caught and detained with them?”
“I don't know,” she repeated. “Clearly whoever has them also has eyes on them if he had to write such an odd letter.” She scanned the short paragraph once more, concentrating on the bit about Jaryn missing her. It made her heart ache. She had been so angry with him for leaving that it was all she could think about for a short time. Now she just wanted him home, safe with her, healing with her. “They're safe,” she breathed, sorrowful. “If they have been captured, that would explain why they have all been gone for so long.”
“We should have kept that girl here until you were done reading the letter.” Cavalon looked around the room as though he might find her flitting in the air in some high corner of the open space. At length he turned to Killian. “You're a tracker. Track her.”
Killian raised a brow, but otherwise didn't move. “You want me to track a butterfly...”
“And here I thought you could do anything. Maybe if Ashlynn gave you the order.”
“That's enough.” Ashlynn didn't really care about what was being said, she simply wanted them to be quiet for a minute. Jaryn and the rest of them couldn't be in Ibays if they were being held captive somewhere, neither would they be in Caedia or Siness. Mirasean would hardly get involved with the affairs of the surrounding nations, so they were ruled out as a threat. Braemar was under Nuala's control so it was unlikely they were there. That left the southern Celtique nations with which the north had good relations, but little contact, Takashiri and Shihou, and countries who never concerned themselves with the Celts. “I can't figure out where they would be,” she finally mused aloud. Turning to the two men, she looked from one to the other. “Siness and Ibays are completely ruled out. I suppose it's possible for some rogue city or small kingdom within Caedia or Braemar to have them, but to what end? Could they have found our attackers and it is they who hold them? But then, why would this letter sound so positive? Connor is clearly telling me they are safe and not to worry, but if they are being held by those that attacked us, how could they possibly be safe?”
“It doesn't make any sense to me, either,” Cavalon conceded. “I'll go find Nuala and describe the girl to her. Maybe she'll know where she's stationed on description alone.” Once Cavalon had her nod of permission, he left to find his wife.
“What a dreadful week this has been,” Ashlynn said quietly after a moment of silence. She touched a hand to her forehead and absently ran her fingers over one of her eyebrows. “I keep praying we will return to normal, but I fear this has become our normal.” Killian said nothing, only watched her with his usual stoic sadness. “I never dreamed I would experience so much loss in my life over such a small amount of time. It hardly seems fair.” Though the letter had said they were safe, the fear that she could lose her husband as well had taken root and was slowly growing, twisting her stomach and making it harder and harder to breathe. “If Jaryn dies...”
“He will not die,” Killian promised boldly. “Your Majesty, perhaps you should sit. Let me have some tea sent up.”
“I don't want any tea,” she whispered, her hand resting just under her neck. Sitting was a good idea, however. She walked in the direction of the nearest solar, Killian following behind, and sat to look out the tall glass windows at the night sky. No words would come either to her lips or her mind for a long time, and for that she was grateful. It allowed her to concentrate on her breathing and to try to swallow down the hard lump in her throat. “I just want my husband to come home,” she managed weakly. “Please, Giver, let him come home to me.”
“The Giver will never leave you, nor forsake you,” Killian reminded, his voice so calm that she felt, once again, he was talking to her as he would a frightened mare. “That means He will never leave or forsake your husband, either.”
“Sometimes I think He forsook me a long time ago.”
Killian lowered his brows. “You should not say things like that.”
“But it is how I feel.” She dropped her gaze to rest it upon his disapproving face. “Did you not tell me just the other night that I should be honest with my feelings? Besides, the Giver knows how I feel. Giving voice to it will make it no more damning than keeping it to myself.”
Two people could be heard approaching long before they were seen, and Ashlynn knew Cavalon was returning with Nuala. The pair hesitated a moment, no doubt wondering where Ashlynn and Killian had disappeared to, but Cavalon knew the solars were the favorite rooms of the castle and found them quickly. No words needed to pass between the two women; it was as if Nuala knew exactly how Ashlynn was feeling as soon as she saw her. Rising to her feet, Ashlynn embraced Nuala at the same time the winged queen wrapped her arms around Ashlynn. “Are you all right?”
“No,” admitted Ashlynn weakly, “but I will be.”
When they parted, Nuala's lips were set into a grim line. “Cavalon described the girl for me. She is not someone I know. It is entirely possible to meet a Volar I do not know myself, but if they are messengers, they are considered under my dominion.”
Ashlynn shook her head. “What does that mean, then?”
Nuala's smile was bleak. “We are dealing with an unknown entity, but that hardly means all hope is lost.” She glanced at Killian. “We have a master tr
acker here in Lord Killian, and I have a few ideas to employ as well. I know you have told me, as well as Luella and Tasarin, to go home, but we all feel it is important to stay at least a few more days. Let us take care of this. You still need your rest.” She rubbed Ashlynn's arms in reassurance. “Nothing can be done until morning now, so we should all try to sleep. We may have a few sleepless nights ahead of us yet.” Looking at her husband, Nuala raised her brows. “Would you escort Ashlynn back to her quarters? If Killian is all right with it, I would like to have a few words with him.”
Killian dipped his head. “Whatever Her Majesty needs of me. There is some unfortunate news I must share with you about one of your own, as well.”
Cavalon glanced at the man, but Nuala smiled peacefully. “I will be up soon.” She sealed her promise with a kiss to Cavalon's lips.
With one more caustic look of warning to Killian, Cavalon walked side by side with Ashlynn from the room. They said little as they went; Ashlynn knew Cavalon was brooding and didn't want to hear it tonight. He'd already voiced his concern several times over Killian, as had Lilia. They were both as certain as Jaryn had seemed to be that the older man held a particular attraction to her. At times she would have agreed, but it seemed mostly that he took his duties very seriously. More than once he had told her Rowan looked to her like the mother she never had. It would make sense for him to feel the need to preserve that, and so, to protect her. That hardly equated romantic feelings.
“I can make it the rest of the way on my own,” she told him as they were passing his own rooms. “Stay here. Get some rest as your wife so sagely advised. You've been spending all of your spare time looking after me that you've hardly had time for yourself. If I am exhausted, I can only imagine how you feel.” He was about to protest, but Ashlynn raised herself up on her toes to kiss his cheek. “Thank you for taking care of me and always being there for me.”
“It's what family does.” He hesitated, lips curving down in a half grimace. “Are you sure you're okay?”