Reigning Hearts

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Reigning Hearts Page 8

by Candace Osmond


  Her bones weary and tired, she crawled across the forest floor toward her husband and sat next to the woman who laid on the dirt. Her skin seared black and oozing red. Her eyes fluttered under closed lids.

  “I-I can heal her,” Ashlynn said.

  “No, you can’t, not after what just happened,” Cian replied. “Let me.”

  “Do you know a healing spell for something this far gone?”

  Cian’s lips pursed as he thought. “Yes, I can manage. At least, enough to get her back to the house.”

  He rolled up his sleeves and Ashlynn watched as he summoned his power, it crackled over the surface of his skin with a certain calm that Ashlynn found herself envying. She longed to have control over her powers again. To stop this madness. Within seconds, the woman’s deep burns subsided and her back arched as she sucked in a gasp of air. Her eyes remained closed, but Ashlynn could already see the difference in the rise and fall of her chest.

  He did it.

  “Okay,” Cian said, hopeful as he slid two arms under the woman and hoisted her up. “Let’s get out of here.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Cian took a deep breath to steady himself then squared his shoulders and confessed, “We need help.”

  Faith was the first to respond. Not just an elder, but a friend and closest confidant they had, she was the only one partial to their secrets. She smiled supportively at him and motioned for him to continue. “Go on.”

  “There are a few things the council may not be aware of. Ashlynn and I have kept secrets for fear that revealing the truth would throw our already chaotic lives even further off balance. But, the time has come to lay it all bare and ask for any help the council can offer.” Cian swallowed the fear he felt every time he wondered if the council could be infiltrated by Serena’s darkness and rushed in. “Ashlynn is pregnant with our child.”

  This was met with murmurs of congratulations and curious looks. They knew there would be more revealed.

  Cian accepted their congratulations with a nod then launched into the explanation of why he was really here. He despised having to dredge up the past and the darkness that had infected him, but it was necessary, so he persevered. “The soul killing curse Serena used on me worked. I was on the verge of losing everything when Ashlynn and Faith forced it from my body, but there’s something we failed to tell you about the confrontation.”

  Arched eyebrows regarded him and Faith in turn. She sat, stiff-spined and waiting.

  “Their magics weren’t enough. The curse was pulling me under, I could feel it destroying my soul.” He took another deep breath for strength. “The reason it worked, the reason I’m here today, is because of a child. Her name was Masilda.”

  Cian pictured the young girl in his mind and felt the wrenching pain of loss he felt every time he thought of her and the sacrifice she’d made to save him, to save them all. Her sacrifice had been hidden from the elders for all this time. Now, they would know.

  “She was one of the Travellers,” he said slowly, knowing his next revelation would result in a bombardment of questions. “And she had the ability to wield all five elements.”

  As expected, the room exploded into a cacophony of questions and demands to know more. Several elders turned from him to Faith with tightened lips and looks of fury. She sat like a Queen, chin high, refusing to be intimidated. She simply arched an eyebrow at Cian, signaling for him to continue.

  “When she used her powers to free me from the curse,” Cian spoke loudly and let a trickle of his magic free to make his voice be heard above the din. “then died in my wife’s arms…” his voice broke as the room fell into silence, “Masilda somehow passed her magic onto Ashlynn. The symbol lost to our people long ago, the Pancha Mahabhuta, appeared on Ashlynn’s arm moments later.”

  He ran a hand through his hair, leaving it mussed, and sighed. “We don’t know if the magics are part of Ashlynn now or part of our child, but they’re unstable and more powerful than anything we’ve ever seen before. We need your help.” Cian lifted his hands, palm up, and pleaded with the elders for understanding and aid.

  This time, the elders responded without shouts and demands for more. Their collective gazes were heavy and dark, now, thoughtful and wondering. Cian felt a shift in the air around him and saw the subtle changes in the elders’ faces as they turned to one another silently and understood that a conversation was happening without words. He lowered his head and waited.

  “Cian,” spoke Elder Matias in a gritty voice edged with age.

  His name was spoken softly but with a firmness that made him swallow.

  “You’ve given us much to think about and discuss. The magics you speak of were rent from our people long ago but dark evil not unlike that Serena wields. It is of the utmost importance that we keep it safe and in the hands of those we can trust to have our peoples’ best interests at heart. We will help Ashlynn and your unborn child.”

  The elders nodded their agreement.

  Elder Siobhan leaned forward on thin arms and stared intently into Cian’s eyes. “We will do what we can to help, but, right now, we have little to offer. What we can offer,” she said, then waved her hand in the air, sending a breeze of magic shimmering around her. She plucked a piece of paper out of thin air and held it out to him. “Is this. A way to access the unconscious mind to search for information beyond Serena’s control. Faith tells us you have one in custody now who may know more than he can reveal on a conscious level.”

  Cian closed his fingers around the paper and quickly skimmed the incantation. If it worked as they said, he’d be able to find Serena without her knowing they’d plucked the information from Connor’s mind. He nodded solemnly. “Thank you.” Cian met each elder’s gaze and bowed his head in respect.

  “We must warn you, though,” Faith garnered a few side glances. “This path must be walked carefully. It isn’t for the weak of mind or soul.” She sighed and licked her lips. “Be careful, Cian.”

  The moment he was in his car, Cian called his parents and told them everything, and, as he drove, his mind replayed Faith’s words and fought the doubt that bubbled to the surface.

  His parents were prepared for the ritual when he arrived, as was he. Still, Cian winced when they brought Connor into the room, snarling and struggling against the magical bonds that stole his power and kept them all safe from his wrath.

  “I’ll fucking kill you!” Connor screamed in a booming voice that ricocheted off the walls and amplified his fury so that it was wild and feral. Cian believed he would deliver that promise if given the chance.

  So, they wouldn’t give him the chance.

  Eadlyn reached for the incantation and read it silently, her lips moving over the Gaelic like poetry. Cian had memorized it on the way and was as prepared as he would ever be to dive in and see if this hail Mary would work.

  It had to work.

  He rolled up his sleeves, ready to get to work, but stopped when his mother laid a hand on his arm. “This isn’t for you,” she murmured, offering him a sad smile.

  Cian frowned down at her in confusion. “What do you mean?”

  “This spell,” she lifted the paper, “isn’t meant for you to perform. I’ve walked the astral plane before.” She lifted a hand to his cheek. “I’ll be safe.”

  Cian swallowed and fought back against the feeling of helplessness that warred with his pride. Faith had said that the spell wasn’t for the weak of mind or soul. He wasn’t weak, he wasn’t. Unless…

  Unless his mother doubted his soul.

  As if reading his mind, Eadlyn shook her head. “There is no room for doubt in the beyond, Cian. Your soul is divided. Your love for Ashlynn and that little one she carries and your anger towards Serena will weaken you in there. Let me do this for you.”

  Patrick moved up to stand behind Eadlyn, always the stalwart rock to his mother’s steel. “I’ll be your anchor,” he said, leaning down to kiss the top of her head. He looked up at Cian, whose emotions were too close to t
he surface for comfort, and clapped a hand to his shoulder. “You’re a father now,” Patrick said with a proud smile. “So, you’ll understand. Let us do this for you.”

  Cian’s eyes brimmed with unshed tears that made it impossible for him to speak without losing control, so he just nodded and stepped back.

  Together, they laid the circle around where Connor was seated, still restrained. Cian worked hard to tune out Connor’s hateful words but they pinged against his soul, taking chips with each blow. He wished they’d silenced him, too, but there was no need for that now.

  It was time.

  Eadlyn rotated her shoulders and cracked her neck, slowly stretching out her muscles in preparation for the labor of astral projection. The incantation had said nothing of how the journey would affect the traveller, but his mother had given him a Cole’s notes as they’d worked.

  She’d be anchored to this world by his father, while her soul slipped into the astral realm and moved through Connor’s conscious mind into his unconscious mind. There, she’d be able to access information Serena’s spell shouldn’t have been able to touch.

  Shouldn’t being the operative word.

  Cian stood beside his father and held his breath as his mother, so delicate and fragile compared to Connor’s bulk, laid her fingers against Connor’s twitching, red face. Spittle flew from his lips and landed on her chin but she paid no mind.

  She closed her eyes and began to chant.

  Patrick stood directly behind her, ready, gaze focused on his wife. When her face when slack and her body seemed to melt, he caught her in his arms and laid her limp body on a mat they’d laid out.

  Connor’s tirade was over. Cian noticed that his face was slack, like a drunk’s, not serene like his mother’s. He hoped that whatever physical and mental exertion she was experiencing in the between, she wasn’t in pain.

  Time seemed to slow down to a crawl as they waited, silently watching as Eadlyn reacted to whatever dangers lurked inside Connor’s mind. Cian paced, chewed his lip, and checked his watch for the tenth time.

  “She’s been in there twenty-eight minutes.” He looked at his father who was still holding his mom. “How long is normal?”

  “There is no normal in astral projection, son. She’ll be back when she has what we need,” Patrick murmured, as if speaking too loudly would wake the unconscious bodies at their feet. “There are layers to the human mind, more put in Connor’s mind by Serena’s spell. Your mother is just maneuvering her way to the truth.”

  Cian stared at his father, his big, strong father, who was waiting patiently for his mother to wake up from a dangerous task and wondered how he could be so calm.

  “Aren’t you worried for her?” Cian chewed his lip again, stopping when he tasted copper.

  Patrick turned to study Cian. “I’m concerned for her safety, of course, that’s natural. But, I’m not worried. She’s…” he turned to look down at his wife, “the most amazing, talented, resourceful woman I’ve ever known. Your mother is a badass.” Patrick grinned.

  Cian looked at his mother, at the woman that had raised him, and wondered if he could be so calm if it were Ashlynn in the between. His heart was filled with so much uncertainty these days, so much fear and doubt, that he wasn’t sure he could take it. Especially now that they were expecting a child.

  “I’m terrified, dad,” Cian blurted out, getting his father’s instant attention. “I’m scared, all the time.” Cian raked a hand through his hair. “Ever since the curse, it’s like I can’t even trust myself. What if the darkness took root too deeply to ever leave? What it it grows again and I lose control? What it…”

  “What if you lose everything?” Patrick’s sad smile was filled with understanding. He reached out a hand and laid it on Cian’s shoulder. “It’s a hard lesson to learn, Cian, but the more you love, the more you have to lose. Life is terrifying.”

  Cian watched as his father reached into his pants and pulled out his wallet. Patrick riffled through the folds until he pulled out a worn picture that Cian recognized. In it, Cian’s face was red and blotchy from crying and a tiny little cast held his broken arm together. He’d been two years old when it was taken.

  “I remember the day you broke it like it was yesterday,” Patrick murmured. “We were having a picnic by the pond and you were chasing the ducks. Your mother fell asleep with her head in my lap as you played.” He looked off in memory. “You tripped over your own feet and fell on a rock. That was it. A single rock in the middle of a wide-open field of soft grass and you found the one hard thing to fall on.” Patrick shook his head and smiled. “You weren’t a klutz either. It was just an awkward fall. No one’s fault. But your mother blamed herself for a very long time.”

  “Why? Kids hurt themselves all the time. It’s no one's fault.”

  Patrick cocked an eyebrow. “Tell me again when your little one gets hurt.”

  A moan from the floor snapped their attention back to Eadlyn, whose eyes were only faintly blurry when she opened them. Patrick and Cian pulled her up, gently, each by an arm.

  “Are you alright?” Cian asked, seeing the fatigue on his mother’s face. Guilt and shame clouded his mind.

  She turned to him with a quiet smile and nodded slowly. “I’m just tired.” Eadlyn leaned back into Patrick’s waiting embrace and spoke softly. “His mind is jumbled and confused.” She looked pensively toward Connor, who was still unconscious, but whose face looked less slack now. “Even before Serena infected him with her hate, his mind was troubled. I wish I’d know the extent when you were children. I would have tried harder to reach him.”

  “Mom,” Cian chided softly, “he adored you. This,” Cian said, pointing to Connor, “isn’t the same boy we knew.”

  Eadlyn shook her head. “No, you’re right. He isn’t.” She tilted her head up to look Cian in the eye. “But I think I can help him anyway. After we stop Serena.”

  Cian’s eyebrows arched up. “You found where she’d hiding?” Hope surged in his chest.

  “Oh, I got it all,” Eadlyn grinned. “It’s time we take her down for good.”

  Chapter Twelve

  The number of witches and sorcerers surrounding Serena was astounding. Ashlynn hadn’t expected to meet such a force and, while there was a sizable army before her from the clans coming together, the force they were up against was definitely intimidating.

  And yet, none of her people hesitated. All around her, friends, peers, and those she’d never seen before, threw themselves headlong into the fight. They understood what was at stake. They knew what would be lost if Serena won and they weren’t going to allow that to happen. Ashlynn’s heart filled with pride for her people.

  Cian had asked her to stay back, protected by the others and not unleashing any magic. She’d understood where he was coming from, the need inside her to protect those she loved was too big to swallow, but she also knew that if their first plan fell through, she was the only one powerful enough to truly stop Serena. Her own clan elders knew of her power now, but word hadn’t yet spread through the masses, and they’d been careful not to let it be known to the enemy.

  Serena seemed hellbent on destroying them.

  She had the potential, and she had her purpose, however misguided and dark it was. But Ashlynn hoped that the hubris carried throughout her clan, as well as the promise of a new future with pride and great bounty would prevail over the greed and revenge driving Serena. She had to believe that the will and heart of her own warriors would far surpass the control and compulsion of false fealty that ran through the veins of Serena’s followers.

  Ashlynn watched the fighting carefully, determined to help however she could from the back lines, where her baby was safe from attack. She focused heavily on Serena, the eye of the storm, the center of the attack. The sorceress was grounded and practically glowed with evil intent. She was kneeling now, working on the spell to grant her a single wish while those who fought, fell, on both sides of the battle.

  Two young pe
ople, rogues, who’d just been wed, fought back to back no more than fifty feet from where Ashlynn stood. They were like her and Cian, so newly joined, so fresh in love, and now they were battling a large number of opponents, their united power stronger than it could be alone.

  The young woman threw out a blast that struck an attacking witch’s shoulder. She called back the ball of energy and exploded it like buckshot, each tiny shred of the magic hitting several places on three advancing sorcerers. It slowed them long enough for her and her husband to spin around, aiming in opposite directions. He threw a firebolt that struck one down, then split in half to take down the other two.

  They were fearless, or so it seemed from the outside, but she knew the terror of losing your heart. Ashlynn tore her gaze from them and look back at Serena. The woman looked as if she were in the middle of an open field on a bright sunny day, not on the edge of a bloody battle she’d caused. Her attention was on the spell, not the fallen witches and warlocks, those she had coerced into battle who had sacrificed themselves for her. She simply went about her business, closed her eyes and chanted.

  A cry to her right caught Ashlynn’s attention. She gasped and watched in horror a woman fell to the ground close by, her body twisted in an unnatural angle. A shimmering sword protruded through her back, the hilt shoved deep into her gut.

  “No!” Ashlynn screamed and trembled as she recognized the face. “Ruth, no,” she whispered with tears pouring down her cheeks.

  Black threads coursed through the woman’s body, the dark magic of the weapon instantly poisoning her. Frantic, Ashlynn directed a blast of healing energy at her friend, but she just lay limp on the ground, eyes rolling back in her head as the black magic took over.

  It was too late.

  She stared into her friend’s blank gaze. “I’m so sorry…”

  A sob erupted from deep within her, heavy with pain that made her head swim. Power sparked in Ashlynn’s hands, sizzling and snapping, out of control, and threw her hands wide, unable to hold the magic any longer. A bolt of crushing pain flew from her palm, felling a pair of sorcerers, but Ashlynn didn’t care. She couldn’t believe Ruth was gone. She was one of their best sorceresses, a pillar in the community of rogue Travellers, and a close friend. Then, in the heat of a battle that should never have happened, she’d lost her life.

 

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