“What was the name of the patient you’re waiting for?” Nancy asked with narrowed eyes.
“I...” Cadoc cleared his throat. He tried a grin, but it felt flat. Empty.
Nancy pursed her lips. “Sir, I don’t know where you’re from with an accent like that, but in the United States we don’t allow scraggly men to sit in the lobby of a children’s hospital for hours on end. You need to leave.”
It took effort not to run a self-conscious hand over his untrimmed, patchy beard. So close. He couldn’t leave now. Six weeks of searching. Of sleeping rough or in cheap motels. Ashem had sent money, but comfort left too much time for thinking. Cadoc used to like thinking, but it was a frightening thing when not all the thoughts were his own.
Lladd y brenin ddraig... Kill the dragon king.
Cadoc rubbed his face as the thought sang cold and sharp through his blood.
Nancy’s disapproval hadn’t wavered. “Sir, if you don’t leave, I will call security.”
“Cadoc ap Brychan?” From behind Nancy, another woman’s voice sounded, incredulous and gentle.
Ancients, that voice. On instinct, Cadoc rose to his feet. He barely stopped himself from dropping into the formal bow.
Seren, Lady Seeress, stood just behind the desk attendant, turquoise eyes wide. She looked strikingly like Deryn, but softer in both features and coloring. She was a tall young woman, wearing an overlarge sweater and dark jeans tucked into boots. A thick, red-gold braid hung over one shoulder nearly to her waist. She clutched the strap of her huge bag with one hand. One bare hand.
“My L—Seren.” Ancients. He hadn’t seen her without a veil in centuries. Her face, unobstructed, shook loose memories. Too many memories.
Seren stepped around a mystified Nancy and Cadoc stumbled backward, knocking over his chair. “Where are your gloves?”
Smiling ruefully, Seren wiggled her fingers. “At the hotel.”
Nancy made a disapproving noise. “Ms. Gold? You know this man?”
Seren smiled, genuine and warm. Nancy’s disapproval melted. “He’s my...brother.” In a voice laced with resignation, she added, “He’s here to pick me up.”
Cadoc nodded. He couldn’t stop his eyes from darting to Seren’s face every few seconds. Still so beautiful. He dug his fingernails into his palm. Those weren’t thoughts a man should have about the Seeress.
Nancy frowned at Cadoc again, her gaze skating from the toes of his worn shoes to his beard to his black, unruly hair. She squinted. “Are your eyes...purple?”
Cadoc cleared his throat. “There’s been a family emergency. We need you to come home.”
“What emergency?” Seren’s composed voice took on a hard edge.
“Lady—”
Seren shot Cadoc a look of sheer ice.
Momentarily quelled, Cadoc shut his mouth. Then he opened it again. “Seren. There are matters better discussed in private.”
“I see.” Seren tightened her grip on her bag. “Nancy, tell the staff thank you for letting me visit the children. I think this will be the last time I can come.”
Nancy eyed Cadoc, looking alarmed. She leaned toward Seren and whispered loudly, “You don’t have to go with him. I can call someone.”
Seren’s eyes went round. She laughed, but her voice was dry. “Don’t worry. Cadoc is the last man in the world any woman should fear.”
Had anyone else said it, he would have laughed. Instead, Cadoc winced.
“It’s been so good of you to come, Ms. Gold.” Nancy’s eyes got watery. “You’ve done so much for the children.”
“Not as much as the people who work here.” Seren touched Nancy’s hand.
Cadoc looked away, pressing his ruined hand deeper into its pocket. He wouldn’t think of what Seren’s healing touch could do for him, not when he could never feel it. At least, not until he was heartsworn, and he was beginning to doubt that would ever happen.
Until that day, he had to avoid touching her like she had scale rot, because there was a chance—however miniscule—that they could become heartsworn to each other. If that happened, she’d lose the Sight, and Rhys would lose one of the things that helped retain his dwindling edge over Owain.
Cadoc would rather cut off his good hand than make another mess.
They left the bright lights of the hospital and stepped into the darkness of the chilly November night. A black mood descended on Cadoc again. Seren pulled a hat and scarf out of her bag and put them on against the cold.
He studied her, flicking glances her way when she wasn’t looking. She seemed tired, with smudges under her eyes that made the fine, gold scales rimming her upper and lower lids stand out in contrast. He wondered what humans thought those scales were. Cosmetics, maybe?
Seren caught his eye and gave him half a smile. In the dim gloom of the nighttime city street, her her irises emitted an unstable glow. “What’s the family emergency?”
He didn’t like that glow. It meant she was close to having a vision. “I’ll tell you when we’re inside your room.”
Cadoc followed her around the corner and to a hotel no more than five minutes’ walk from the hospital. They pushed through the revolving door and came out into a large posh lobby decorated in gray and yellow. Seren greeted the man working at the front desk as she passed, heading for the elevators. The man eyed Cadoc distrustfully, and Cadoc returned his glare.
The elevator doors closed, and suddenly Cadoc couldn’t breathe. Tiny stone pit. Hands chained above his head. His father, who was not his father, laughing as he sliced—
Seren sighed. “Usually Iolani comes for me. I must be in trouble to get you. How angry is Rhys?”
Ice lanced Cadoc’s veins, and his entire body spasmed. He gripped the metal handrail in the elevator hard enough to make it groan ominously.
Lladd y brenin ddraig!
“Cadoc! What’s wrong?” Seren stretched her hand toward him.
“Don’t!” He ground the word through gritted teeth. “You can’t—can’t touch me.”
She recoiled, hurt in her eyes.
Cadoc couldn’t think of Seren, didn’t have time to regret hurting her. He had to get himself under control.
He hummed. A different kind of pain washed over him as he poured himself into the music, filled himself with it. Music was the only thing that hurt enough to keep him in his right mind.
For the first time since the lobby of the children’s hospital, Seren was truly looking at him. Her brows drew together. “Something is wrong with you.”
He stopped humming and panted, “Ffion...has been telling me that...for years.”
She didn’t smile. A golden warmth rippled through him. Cadoc shuddered and pressed his good hand against the wall. “Don’t.”
Too late. Seren’s eyes went wide with horror. She stared at the pocket that hid the mangled remains of his right hand. “Blood of the Ancients. What happened?”
He couldn’t answer. He had to keep humming. The elevator dinged. The doors slid open.
“Cadoc, you’ve got to move.”
Mechanically, he forced his feet to take one step, then another, out of the tiny box. He crouched on the carpet in the empty hall, breathing. In, out, in, out. Don’t think of him. Cadoc smothered hysterical laughter, hitting a few jarring notes.
He was losing himself.
Seren crouched beside him. As if from a distance, he heard her voice join his in the song, beautiful and rich and so heartbreakingly familiar. Using it like a lifeline, he pulled himself back to sanity.
“Your room?” he gasped.
“This way.”
She hovered as he stumbled to his feet. Her fingers opened and closed, as if she wanted to help him but didn’t dare. Once he was standing, she hurried down the hall, swiped her key and pushed open a door. “Here.�
��
Cadoc tottered into a suite just as posh as the lobby below with sunny yellow walls and heavy, serious furniture. He collapsed onto a black couch, massaging his forehead. The ice had gone, leaving a headache in its wake.
Seren went through a half-open door into the bedroom, and returned a moment later. She’d taken off her sweater, revealing a fitted white T-shirt beneath. Sheer gloves rose to above her elbows, transparent enough for Cadoc to see the golden whorls and spirals of her indicium.
Seren sat next to him, leaving a couple of feet between them. “Let me see your hand.”
He turned his palm toward her.
“Your other hand.”
“There’s nothing to be done.”
“Your hand, Cadoc.” She glared. “Now.”
Cadoc pulled the ruined, twisted thing from its pocket and held it out to her, leaning back and fixing his gaze on the ceiling. Ancients, he didn’t want to see her face. The pity. The disgust.
Gentle gloved fingers traced the lumps of bone beneath discolored skin. She turned it over, taking a long, slow breath. “Oh, awenydd. Who did this to you?”
Cadoc pulled his arm gently away and shoved his hand back in his pocket. “Your cousin. And don’t call me that. I’m not a bard anymore.”
Her eyes went wide. “Owain?” She rose from the floor and settled on the far side of the couch. “How?”
“He invited me for a visit.”
“Owain captured you? What about Rhy—”
“Fine. Your siblings are fine.”
Slowly, she settled back on the couch. “What happened after I ran away?”
He told her the story. It was a dangerous game, reciting the events of weeks ago while avoiding thoughts of one of its main players.
Seren interrupted once, her voice subdued. “You like her, don’t you? This girl, Kai.”
He nodded, hesitant to tell the next part of the story for more reason than one. “I...made a mistake. We became friends. She...kissed me.”
Seren inhaled sharply. “And you...?”
He closed his eyes. He couldn’t look at her face. He didn’t want to see pain there. Or worse—nothing. “I let her.”
His throat tightened as he closed with Griffith’s death. Griff had seemed so permanent, like stone. It was wrong that he could be gone and life go on. The earth should have stopped spinning, and whenever he realized—again—that his friend was dead, Cadoc couldn’t fathom why it hadn’t.
Seren grasped his good hand with one of her gloved ones. “If I’d been there. If I hadn’t put off the Sight as long as I did—”
He shook his head. “Done is done, Lady. There’s more. Your mother, Mair, lives. She’s the one who got me out of Owain’s torture pit.”
The blood drained from Seren’s face.
“My Lady?” Cadoc sat up.
“Oh, Ancients. It’s coming.” Seren’s voice was harsh, otherworldly. She ran into the bedroom. Another door opened, and Cadoc heard retching.
He followed her into the bedroom. In the adjoining bathroom, Seren clutched the toilet, noisily sick. When she was done, she pulled a washcloth down from the counter, wiped her mouth and moaned. Tears streamed down her face. Her eyes were ablaze with flickering light.
Cadoc hovered, hating that he couldn’t do anything to comfort her. “What can I do?”
“On top of the dresser.” Seren’s voice held tears and resignation. “Sunstone...I need...to record the vision. Stars, my head.”
She pushed away from the toilet and collapsed on the floor.
Careful not to touch her skin, Cadoc put his arm around her waist and helped her to the bed, trying and failing not to notice how warm she felt. How right.
Sunder me.
He plucked the sunstone from its spot on the hotel dresser then dropped the glittering orange and red gem into the hand she’d freed from its glove.
As soon as her fingers closed around the stone, Seren gave in to the Sight. She cried out, eyes flying open. Her irises had changed from swirling turquoise to purest gold. Light seeped from her, illuminating the dark room. She convulsed as if she were having a seizure.
Before he could do anything, she went limp. Cadoc edged closer, but froze when she went rigid again. Over and over the sequence repeated. Frustrated and helpless, Cadoc paced. Finally, he sat on the edge of her bed. Between waves of magic, he held her gloved hand.
* * *
Seren felt Cadoc’s fingers close around hers. He was careful, so careful not to touch her exposed skin. She caught a glimpse of the flat white hotel ceiling. Then the vision took her, and there was nothing else.
Owain, and a woman with black hair and a shadowed face, hands clasped. Glowing threads of light crisscross the space between their hearts.
Seren surfaced, inhaled. Agony sliced through her head and stomach. Then the vision seized her again.
A woman with pale hair and a commanding expression wears the robe of an ancient Azhdahā queen. Her crown is half-gold, half-silver, and her eyes fill with secrets not her own.
Another break. Another gasp for air. Tears streamed down Seren’s face and her rigid muscles spasmed.
Owain, blond and tall, stands in front of a cage that holds a white raven. In a rush of wings, the birds break for freedom. Enraged, Owain snatches the raven and plunges two fingers into its chest. Crimson spatters the snow-white feathers. He jerks out the bird’s still-beating heart and crushes it. The raven screams, but it has a woman’s voice.
Someone squeezed her hand. Seren nearly wept to remember she wasn’t alone. Her mouth dry as dust, she tried to whisper Cadoc’s name—
Roars and wings, lightning and smoke. The air is so thick it chokes. A wind blows. The smoke clears. On the ground, a broken body. A vicious gash runs from chest to pelvis. A dozen other wounds pump red, red blood onto the sand. The long, lean body is covered in it, the unruly black hair matted with it.
Cadoc.
His crushed hand lies upon his chest. His amethyst eyes stare, unseeing, at the sky.
“No...” Seren became aware only long enough to realize her hair and the pillow beneath her were soaked in tears.
Rhys wears half a cloak woven of light—raggedly torn down the center. Alone, but not alone, voices echo in the blackness around him. Something snatches at him. He staggers. Grasps. The fabric slips from his shoulders and is swallowed by the void. Behind him, a figure blazes with light.
In waves it came and went, image upon image, scene upon scene, until Seren stopped trying to remember and tried not to lose herself.
* * *
At last, the light leaking from Seren’s body faded. All light fled, and in the darkness was silence. No sound but Cadoc’s breath, his own beating heart.
He tried to conjure a ball of fire, but it flickered. He swore and tried again, but fire eluded him. It did that, since the pit.
After what seemed like an eternity, Seren gasped and rolled onto her side.
“Cadoc!” Her voice was hoarse and terrified. The mattress shifted, and Cadoc realized she was groping around, frantically trying to find him.
He shied away, knowing one of her hands was bare. “I’m here.”
“Cadoc,” she repeated. “Oh, Ancients, Cadoc.” The bed shook. She was crying.
He found her discarded glove and put it in her other, still-covered hand. When she put it on, he took her hand again, ignoring the voices that told him touching her, even with her gloves, was forbidden. “What did you see?”
She squeezed back, sobbing like someone had shredded her soul.
Cadoc sat frozen. Helpless. Unsure how to banish her pain.
So he answered it with his own.
He sang. For six weeks, he’d forbidden himself to make real music—to do anything but hum to keep the murderous voices
at bay. The song he chose was one of loss and longing, woven with minor chords and notes that tapered to nothing. He held on to her and poured himself into the music like a man jumping from a cliff with nothing but broken stones to break his fall.
Whatever was hurting her, she wasn’t alone.
When the song ended, her breathing was still unsteady and frantic. So Cadoc sang it again. Then again. He was about to begin a fourth time when she spoke, her hand tight around his. “You aren’t the only one who’s cursed, awenydd. I wish for so many things.”
“We all wish for things we’re better off forgetting.” Slowly, Cadoc released her hand. “I told you, my Lady. I’m not a bard anymore.”
Seren shifted closer and touched gentle fingers to his hair. Her touch was honey. He wanted to lean into it, to lie beside her and babble all his scale-brained problems. Let her soothe them away like she used to, when they were too young to realize they’d grown too close.
“I saw a woman with a crown, half-silver, half-gold.”
Cadoc started a little when she spoke. He hadn’t expected her to tell him about the vision.
Seren was a shadow on the bed, knees drawn up to her chest, blankets a mess around her. “I saw Owain heartsworn—though not the woman’s face.”
Cadoc’s stomach tightened. “Owain is heartsworn?”
“Or will be, soon.” She took a breath. “I saw Owain tear the heart from a white raven and crush it in his hand.”
Cadoc shot to his feet. “A white raven?”
Seren sat up. “Yes. Why?”
He groped in his pocked for his communicator. Made of metal and powered by quartz crystals, it gave him a direct connection to the members of his vee. “You saw Owain murder a white raven?”
“Yes.”
“Kai. Rhy—your brother’s heartsworn. I call her brânwen. Fair raven. White raven.” Cadoc’s fingers closed on the curved bit of metal and stone. He thrust the communicator at Seren. “Ancients, it’s got to be her. Owain must have figured out who she is. Call him. Tell him what you saw.”
“The white raven is—scales.” Fumbling, Seren took the communicator and hooked it over her ear. She paused, brushed her fingers over the back of Cadoc’s hand. “Go in the other room.”
Shadow of Flame Page 4