By Blood Betrayed (The Lost Shrines Book 3)

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By Blood Betrayed (The Lost Shrines Book 3) Page 11

by Amberlyn Holland


  "And you don't want to give up your home."

  A hard lumped swelled in his throat when he considered exactly what kind decision she might face. He couldn't imagine being forced to choose between protecting his brothers and never seeing them again.

  "No, I don't," she murmured with heart-wrenching softness. "And I don't want them to have to go it alone. Without protection. They've already been targeted once by Hafgan."

  She bit her lip, holding back the silent questions darkening her eyes to stormy grey. Wondering if it was random happenstance that these people, her people, had been selected. Or if they'd been chosen with a specific purpose in mind. Anxiety etched deep lines of fear and dread between her brows as she considered the kinds of things that Hafgan might have planned for them.

  And it was clear Selena had firsthand knowledge of the kind of things the sorcerer was capable of. Phelan couldn't help wondering how she gained that knowledge. He didn't believe she was a sorceress. He'd briefly entertained the thought, but it was obvious she revered life too much. He'd seen her heal.

  Phelan was certain she was nothing like Irana. He was starting to suspect she had more in common with Caerwyn's new wife, Liadan. As the Lady of Hara Dale, Lia was a Goddess Handmaiden tied to the magic of her land. A descendant of the old ones who'd been all but forgotten by history.

  The silence stretched, each lost in their own thoughts while they continued to patrol the area around the spring. Distracted by possibilities they faced, bodies moved closer, erasing the careful distance between them. The fingers brushed against each other, again and again until they caught, tangled, held on.

  They walked together like that for the rest of his shift and part of hers. Eventually, though, he couldn't put off going back to his room to catch a least a couple of hours of sleep.

  When he turned to say a soft goodnight, they were close. So close their bodies touched, and he couldn't help curling his hands around her arms to steady them both.

  Selena tilted her face to gaze up at him. Soft grey eyes watched him, filled with an echo of his own longing. And held a hint of a dare tempered with quiet amusement.

  With a groan, Phelan gave in to the need battering at his soul and brushed his lips across hers. He meant it to be quick and light, but she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer.

  Their first kiss had been demanding and fierce, but this was a slow exploration. An indulgent seeking embrace that left them breathless.

  Phelan lost himself for an eternity, but eventually, he forced himself to pull back.

  "I... should go," he whispered with very little conviction.

  "I know," she said. Letting go, she stepped back enough to put a couple of inches between them. "You need to get some rest. And I need to finish my shift on watch."

  "Goodnight, Selena," he murmured and gave in to the urge to brush his thumb along her cheekbone before turning away and heading back toward the outpost.

  "You haven't seen a stray dog around here at night, have you?" Selena called after him. "Huge, scruffy and muddy most of the time?"

  She sounded so wistful, Phelan momentarily regretted not giving in to the urge to not transform when he'd heard her coming earlier.

  "No," he answered, voice raspy with guilt he tried to hide. It was a piercing reminder of all the lies that stood between them. Of all the reasons this would never work between them. All the reasons she'd never forgive him.

  "Haven't seen any strays. Sorry."

  She frowned, worry tightening the lines around her eyes. "Maybe he found his way home."

  "I'm sure he did," Phelan answered with a tight smile. And it almost wasn't a lie. He did feel at home. Not at the outpost, but with her.

  He wanted to keep the connection, to build something from this temporary bond. But how could he, when the entire foundation was set on a base of lies?

  Needing to get away before giving into the urge to spill all of his secrets at her feet, Phelan forced a smile and headed back down the trail.

  As soon as he was out of sight, he picked up the paced and ran until the burning of his lungs overpowered the jabs of his conscience.

  *****

  Selena had never been lonely. Even though most of her life she'd only had Arun, he'd always been there. It had been enough. Then they'd created a home here and gathered an entire clan. It was more than she ever expected. More than she'd ever hoped for.

  Yearning for more was greedy.

  Wanting Finn to stay, wanting to see what happened if they kept the bond, it was asking too much. Of him or of herself, she wasn't sure.

  Selena was never lonely.

  So the hollow ache that dragged along with her throughout her patrol couldn't be loneliness.

  Even lost in thought, Selena remained attuned to every noise and movement of her surroundings. The sudden quiet of the night caught her attention. Until she realized her entire watch had passed while she'd been brooding and it was Arun arriving to relieve her that had disturbed the nocturnal wildlife into silence.

  "Any problems?"

  Selena wanted to say yes. To spill out about the bond and Finn and even the damn, missing stray. But her brother had enough to worry about. He'd try to fix it for her when there was nothing to fix.

  "No, nothing out of the ordinary." Selena kept her face neutral and firmly refused to think about Finn or the bond. Or the kiss. Then as quickly as possible, without making Arun worry, she headed back to the outpost and the seclusion of her room.

  She should be tired. She'd barely napped before her patrol and she hadn't slept well the night before. But, yet again, she found herself staring up at the ceiling with wide-open eyes and thoughts that refused to stop.

  After a while, Selena gave up on any hope of sleep and got up. Omal would be starting breakfast soon, and she was considering heading down and helping to prepare the meal when a sharp hum of wrongness raced along her senses. Something darker and colder than what she felt when the traitor first used the wellspring. Without thought, she snatched up her sword and ran silently through the halls.

  If something was happening to the spring... If her brother hadn't stopped it...

  Selena refused to consider the possibilities. Refused to believe that anything had happened to Arun. She just needed to get there. Now.

  Awareness of Finn curled through her, and she knew her distress ripped open the bond and called to him. When she burst out the back door and through the garden gate, she wasn't surprised that he was right behind her.

  The first sight of the clearing tore a cry of dismay from her throat. Arun sprawled face down a few feet away from the spring, a trail of disturbed mud and blood stretched between him and the water. Another rock, this one still grey, lay a few inches from his hand. Whatever had happened, he'd stopped the traitor from sending another message. Otherwise, the stone would have turned black.

  Somewhere deeper in the woods, someone ran from them. For a moment, Selena froze, torn.

  Finn's hand, heavy and comforting, squeezed her shoulder and spoke softly into her ear.

  "Go to Arun. I'll chase them down and drag them back to pay for what they've done."

  His voice, thick with dark promise, freed her from her paralysis, and she crossed to sink down by her brother's side.

  Selena knew, before she even touched him, that it was too late. His eyes, open and blank, stared sightlessly into eternity. Dropping her sword at her side, she carefully shifted his limp form, cradling Arun in her lap. She gathered him close, praying she was wrong as she pressed trembling fingers to his skin.

  No heartbeat.

  No breath.

  Using every trick she had learned over the years, Selena pushed the panicked waves of grief down deep and focused on trying to figure out what had happened.

  The wound on his chest was deep but small, something long and thin had pierced into his flesh. Blood stained his shirt and the ground, choking Selena with the thick, coppery scent of it.
>
  Arun's sword remained in its sheath. The only reason he wouldn't have drawn it was if someone took him by surprise. Or if it was someone he knew.

  A soft sob escaped her before she reined in the throb of betrayal once again.

  The disturbed ground made it clear, whatever had happened, Arun was attacked closer to the spring. But the assassin missed a killing stroke, and her brother had stumbled and dragged himself away as he bled out. He'd gotten to the stone before it could be used to betray them once again.

  And he died.

  Closing her eyes, Selena sought the power inside of her, shifting her awareness. She tried to find something, anything, she could do for Arun.

  If she'd gotten there in time, she could have saved him. Could have closed the wound. Stopped the bleeding. Used the power of the earth to replenish what he'd lost.

  But she hadn't gotten there.

  Fighting the devastating grief, Selena forced herself to look away. To examine the clearing once again, to look at it with her other eyes and see the overlay of magic streams crisscrossing the area around the wellspring.

  The magic was wrong. Sickly, and disturbed, it hammered at her senses with its violation.

  A few red drops clung to the rocks, confirming the worst of Selena's fears. Blood and dark magic contaminated the spring and all the power that touched it. There was no meaning or form to the vibrations of darkness that stretched through the leylines, though. Whatever the sorcerer intended, he hadn't been able to finish what he'd started.

  But that also meant that Selena had no idea what his purpose had been. Had he only meant to use the stone to send a message and been caught in the act by Arun? Or had he attacked Arun to use his blood and death to corrupt the spring?

  Breaking branches snapped her back, and she reached for her sword ready to unleash the impotent wrath growing inside of her.

  But it was Finn who stepped out of the shadows.

  "The traitor?" Selena asked, careful to keep her voice even. She couldn't lose her grip on her control. Not yet. Not until she'd avenged her brother.

  Finn grimaced, helpless fury in his eyes. "Gone. They got away. They used some kind of sorcery to disappear before I got close enough to grab them."

  "Did you see who it was?" Selena demanded.

  For the first time, Finn dropped his eyes, mouth pinched. He knew. And he didn't want to tell her.

  "Tell me." Burning, unforgiving intensity fueled her voice.

  She expected him to flinch, but he met her gaze solidly, understanding and echoing fury looking back at her.

  "Mora."

  Everything stilled, anger frozen as she tried to comprehend what he said.

  "That's not... She... They were happy." Selena stared up at Flynn, hoping he could give her an explanation. "Why?"

  "I don't know. But it wasn't an impulsive choice. She brought those stones with her."

  Mora had been one of Hafgan's minions. Had invaded them deliberately. Arun had loved her. He'd been happy. And it had all been a lie.

  Finn stepped closer, hovering above them uncertainly.

  "Arun?" he asked softly, but the dark look on his face told her he already knew.

  "He's gone." She pressed her hand to the blood-soaked wound on his chest. "We were too late."

  Finn looked up at the sky, uncertainty and doubt slowly firming into resolve. Of what she had no idea.

  Then he knelt beside her, his hand covering hers with a delicate consolation.

  "Can you heal him?"

  "What?" Selena asked, stalling as her mind raced. What did he know? What had he seen? She knew she wasn't always as careful as she should be.

  "There's no time for games. I saw you heal Nis after the attack on the caravan. Saw you take care of Chel after the raid. You don't have to tell me anything about your gift. Just tell me if you can heal that kind of wound."

  "I can't heal the dead," she whispered, voice cracking.

  "I know," Finn said and squeezed her hand. "But if he was still alive when we found him... Could you have healed it?"

  She wanted to lash out at Finn for asking these questions. For twisting the knife with the reminder that she'd failed Arun. That she'd been too late. But the urgency of his question made her answer him honestly.

  "Not all of it. But enough to have kept him alive, I think."

  Finn sat back on his heels and scrubbed the heel of his hand over his face.

  "All right," he said, exhaling loudly before he paused, eyes intent and earnest. And for the first time since she'd met him, a hint of fear lurked in their blue depths. "I don't know if this is going to work, but you'll need to be ready to heal him right away, if it does."

  Selena had no idea what she'd expected him to say. But that was not it.

  "What? What are you going to do?"

  "I don't have time to explain. I'm going to teach you a chant. You need to say it exactly like I do and repeat it three times."

  She inhaled sharply, ready to demand a better explanation, but he was already speaking, strange words pouring out of his lips. She struggled to understand and memorize the sounds of the unfamiliar language.

  When he was done, he reached out, cupped her jaw with his hand and stroked his thumb along her cheekbone.

  "Have you got it?"

  Somehow, she did. She didn't know the language or the words but the archaic sounds resonated with ancient knowledge deep inside of her.

  "Yes, but—"

  "I'm sorry. I should explain. Should have explained a long time ago but... There's no time now. Say the words and be ready. Now."

  Selena looked down at Arun and knew there was no more time for arguments. She opened her mouth, and the chant flowed out of her lips, steady and sure despite the questions still demanding answers in the back of her mind.

  Finn tilted his head back, tendons and muscles straining as he stared blankly at the sky above him.

  The second refrain was steadier on her tongue but the air twisted and shifted around them. Bright sparks hovered under Finn's skin and made it glow with an eerie shimmer.

  By the third time, the chant came out sure and clear from her lips, and the change in Finn was undeniable. He didn't move a muscle, not even a twitch. Yet suddenly the person kneeling next to her was completely different.

  They'd both been blocking the bond with various levels of success, but this felt disconcertingly different. It was a wall. Ice cold and impenetrable. For the first time since the full moon, she was totally alone in her own head. She hated it.

  Shivering, she wished for the warm awareness of him back as the last of the words trailed off into the silent dawn.

  Finn’s eyes, empty of any hint of humanity, stared at her unblinkingly. When he spoke, it was no longer with the welcoming amusement or solid warmth that normally infused his voice.

  Dark and dispassionate, his words rumbled like thunder.

  "What do you seek?"

  Selena shuddered at the sound. Wanted to scrabble away from whatever entity now filled Finn's body. Despite her uncertainty, though, a response jumped to her lips unbidden, and she held her ground.

  "I seek Death undone."

  "For what purpose do you seek to circumvent Death?"

  Still shivering at the empty, emotionlessness of not-Finn’s voice pushing out of Finn's lips, she let her subconscious continue to respond.

  "I seek the redress for an unjust Death. I seek the return of Life for a Death claimed early. I seek Death to come at its proper order."

  There was no acknowledgment of her words. Just a turn of not-Finn's head, unblinking eyes and unwavering attention devoted solely to Arun, still cradled in her arms. It completely dismissed Selena, like she ceased to exist now that it had found a purpose.

  Whoever, whatever, now dwelled inside of Finn reached out, hands resting above the wound. For a second, it was all Selena could do not to throw herself over her brother and protect him from whatever was to come.


  But, despite her attempts to hold onto her suspicion, there was a part of her that trusted Finn. Even if she didn't recognize the side of him that he was showing now.

  *****

  Phelan hated the displacement of his being that came with the calling of his Attribute. Hated it worse, now that he saw it reflected in the wary, uncertain way Selena watched him.

  He hated the irritating itch and burn of phantom wings that wanted to manifest but could not. Hated the excruciating ache of being incomplete and cut off from the rest of his Attribute without the presence of his brothers. Hated the overwhelming weight of bearing the burden of Death.

  But giving up all control was still the most horrifying sensation. Being shunted off to a little box where he had no say and no way to do anything with his own body made Phelan want to howl in frustration. But he couldn't even do that.

  When Death asked the traditional question, Selena trembled and he wanted to reach out to her, but his body no longer belonged to him.

  And when Death turned his attention to Arun, Phelan wanted to pound his fist in impotent rage that he couldn't reassure her that her brother was safe in his hands. That he would save her brother.

  But he couldn't make those promises. It was out of his hands and squarely in the grasp of Death.

  The glow that first wrapped his skin when Selena began to chant the call deepened into a dark mist that flowed from where Death pressed his hand into the flesh of Arun's body. It spread quickly, enveloping and overlaying the now empty vessel that once held the soul he sought. The shadows of oblivion had already pulled the wisp of Arun's essence across the veil separating life and death. Dragged it farther and farther from Death's seeking fingertips.

  But not so far it couldn't be reclaimed. Not yet. It hadn't passed into the solid, impassable well of blackness from which nothing ever returned.

  Death sent spirals of silver thread, stretching out from the hand pressed to Arun's chest. The filaments spread out through the hazy light of half-life, seeking in hidden corners and diving deep into the crevices and cracks of reality.

  Unrelenting and implacable, they found their quarry, wrapping him in silver ribbons. The shadows fought for their prize, and the soul squirmed, still struggling to hold onto the last vestiges of life, certain its fate was not yet final.

 

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