by Lisa Rector
“We keep this stuff on hand for when a grandchild comes to visit,” Emlyn explained.
Ahnalyn was extremely grateful. She had given no contemplation to what would happen after delivery. She didn’t have any of the items Emlyn produced, which piled and piled on the tabletop. Thinking Caedryn was going to take the baby away and she’d never see him again, Ahnalyn hadn’t considered the need for a layette.
Emlyn interrupted Ahnalyn from her speculation. “I remember a time not too many years ago when we met another emrys. She had ash-blonde hair clear down her back. Hadyn found her in the middle of the Great Forest. She was slumped against a tree, crying at midnight. It took a lot of convincing to coax her onto the lift and into riding it to the treetops.”
Emlyn examined a baby blanket before folding it again. “Oh, but she was frightened. She said she’d run away and was lost. The girl stayed with us many weeks until she asked Hadyn to take her to the edge of the forest on the other side of the ridge. She didn’t think it would be wise to stay with us too long. Oh, but my, she was enjoyable to have here. Never thought I’d ever see another one like her. Aneirin has hair like hers, though, not the same shade, but her face is more like yours. Actually, if you had blonde hair like hers you’d look exactly the same.” Emlyn rambled on and on.
“Oh.” Ahnalyn half listened as she struggled with changing the baby. They were at the table, and the men were nowhere to be seen. An emrys had been here before?
“Here, this is how you secure the napkin.” Emlyn showed Ahnalyn.
“Thank you. This is all so new.” Ahnalyn gestured to her son, who was blinking up at the ceiling and kicking his legs wildly. “I never knew I was an emrys, or half-emrys, I guess. I don’t know what to do. My life’s been turned upside-down.” Ahnalyn said this aloud while wondering how much Emlyn knew. She probably sounded crazy.
“Now don’t you worry about a thing.” Emlyn patted Ahnalyn’s hand. “You’re welcome to stay here for as long as you want. Eilian love having houseguests. It gives us purpose. We like to stay busy, mind you. Now let me go fix you a meal.”
Ahnalyn cradled her baby against her chest and wandered out to the deck, escaping the hut’s cramped space. She didn’t know how they raised five kids with the one goodly bed in the corner, two comfy armchairs near the fire, a kitchen table and chairs, and a stove smashed into one area. A larder was off the kitchen and a bath off the back. Emlyn had shown Ahnalyn the larder was actually carved into the trunk of the tree. Ahnalyn’s pallet took up the floor near the fire, so Aneirin slept on the deck as long as it didn’t rain—the weather was quite mild for early spring—although in the treetops it was breezy and chilly at times.
Ahnalyn observed the trees and the surrounding deck. Emlyn told her much pertaining to the Eilian and their forest. The trees of the Great Forest, in the deepest parts, were strong in the tops with many branches. The Eilian people built their huts in the canopy, though not in the uppermost canopy, which provided a cover of shade. A vast system of bridges linked each tree with all the rest and each tree had its own deck.
The Eilian people were masters at container gardening. They planted seeds and introduced pot after pot onto the deck. Emlyn explained that they produced their vegetables from what they grew in the pots. The process was tedious, she explained, to haul soil up the trees, hundreds of feet into the air by the huge system of pulleys and lifts. She also explained they didn’t go much down into the understory either. They lived in the treetops because it was safe. No one on the ground knew about them because no one traveled deep into the forest except other creatures that dwelt there. The Eilian’s houses had a system of gutters and barrels to collect rainwater. Most of the meat they ate came from squirrels or birds caught in traps. They were a peaceful people, diligent workers, constantly tending—and they talked—a lot.
Ahnalyn was glad she had the help of Emlyn and Hadyn. They made sure her needs were met with a cup of tea here or a sandwich there. “Oh, you must be cold, have a blanket… or your dress was soiled, so I washed it for you.” Their kindness was without bounds. What would have happened back in Rolant if she’d had the baby there? What if they’d taken him away? Ahnalyn directed her thoughts elsewhere because when she thought about her days in her cold prison, her chest tightened, and she found it difficult to breathe.
Curiosity grew about this blond-haired stranger who rescued her. She wasn’t sure what to make of him. Aneirin had kept his distance ever since Ahnalyn woke. Right now he was nowhere to be seen. She wondered what he was up to. More than once, Ahnalyn saw him conversing with the Eilian who passed on the deck, but then he’d disappear from time to time. He was reserved, except, when holding her son, he’d sing quietly to him in a language Ahnalyn didn’t understand. Nothing but a good morning, or how’re you feeling? passed between them, and he blushed while speaking. She wondered if the birthing experience was awkward for him. She couldn’t remember what happened.
“Don’t worry about him,” Emlyn said the next morning, as Aneirin stood to take his breakfast out on the deck. “I hear emrys are shy.”
“Oh? I just wonder what he thinks of this. He doesn’t know me,” Ahnalyn said.
“He’ll warm up to you. He sure loves your son. You should see Aneirin’s face glow when he picks the baby up,” Emlyn said.
Word spread among the other Eilian of a baby who was half-emrys, so Emlyn kept receiving visitors—little women with kids in tow, even little men. They all wanted to see the new baby. Ahnalyn would let them oooh and ahhh at the baby, and after a while Emlyn kicked them out.
“The neighbors are nosey, always knowing which way the wind blows,” Emlyn chattered. “I guess I can’t blame them, not wanting to pass up a chance to see such a darling baby, though. Hadyn was blabbering his head off at the pub the other night, describing the dragon landing, and oh, was everyone sorry they missed that. ‘Need a bigger deck,’ he said. Ours happens to be the most considerable one on this side of the ridge, so naturally a dragon chose it. He was going on and on about how the little man smiled at him after he sang him a lullaby. I think it was gas.”
The constant talking kept Ahnalyn from thinking too much. A lot had happened, and she was tired of it all. She wanted to stay in this point in time and breathe in peace, holding her son and enjoying the wind in the tops of the trees, away from the world. But how could she forget her people, her father, and Lord Caedryn? The situation would have to be remedied.
But I’m forgetting… When Seren crashed in the courtyard Ahnalyn’s vision returned. Seren must have been knocked unconscious. I hope she’s still alive. She’s probably be locked up somewhere, miserable. Ahnalyn was afraid to open her mind and find out just how miserable. Something would have to be done. They would have to rescue her.
Aneirin had not yet pressed Ahnalyn concerning Seren and had not seen Cephias since he dropped them off. Ahnalyn figured Aneirin kept in touch with him through his dragon stone—the red, vitreous stone hanging around his neck—an exact match for Cephias’s scales.
***
One morning roughly a week after the birth, Aneirin approached Ahnalyn as she sat on a bench outside. Her face was turned to the sun, and her son was propped high on her shoulder while Ahnalyn rubbed his back.
Aneirin stepped into her line of sight. His shining silver clothing—intricately embroidered tunic and pants—glimmered in the sun, but he was absolutely pale beneath them. The two details that stood out in sharp contrast were his dragon stone, dark garnet at his throat, and his piercing-green eyes, hinting at what Ahnalyn couldn’t quite guess—subtle seriousness or guilty ambition.
“How are you feeling, Ahnalyn?” Aneirin’s voice was smooth. He ran his hand across the top of his head over his hair, which hung well past his shoulders and was tied behind his ears. He cleared his throat. “May I sit?”
Ahnalyn nodded her head. “I feel exhausted.”
His brow furrowed, displaying creases across his forehead. Lord Caedryn mentioned how emrys had luminescent sk
in, and Aneirin’s skin glowed from within. A quality Ahnalyn had seen once before, in her mother, before she died.
Aneirin was of slender build and fairly tall. Despite his lean muscles, Ahnalyn knew he was strong because she vaguely remembered how he picked her up as though she was as light as a feather.
He sat on the bench beside her and spoke right to the point. “I imagine you have a lot of questions. I didn’t want to inundate you with cares right after your son was born. Uhh… have you decided on a name?”
“Einion.” On seeing Aneirin’s eyebrows go up, Ahnalyn added, “It means anvil. I want him to be firm and strong, so those around him will yield to him and not the other way around. I don’t want him to feel as I have my entire life.”
“It’s a good name. He’ll be a strong leader. Einion has much light inside him. I can see it.” Aneirin smiled.
“Thank you, I guess.” She shouldn’t have mentioned the part about herself, and to avoid looking at Aneirin, she held Einion out and gazed into his face. He was asleep. She wanted to change the topic. “What language do I hear you singing to my son?”
“It’s a language we speak in the dragon realm, Gorlassar. Emryn. Modified from the common tongue, taught to us by the High Emrys. She learned it from the Master of Light. It’s his language. She uses it when she speaks to him.”
Ahnalyn nodded, not completely understanding. She didn’t know who the High Emrys was or the Master of Light.
Aneirin continued as if he were oblivious to Ahnalyn’s ignorance. “I’m sorry, Ahnalyn, truly sorry. Seren wanted to come for you sooner. Many emrys were against it, saying your mother had made her decision. The emrys do not leave the dragon realm for any reason.”
Ahnalyn cocked her head to look at Aneirin. “I don’t understand… They didn’t want Seren to find me? My mother was her rider.”
“After your mother fell in love with a mortal, your father, she chose to remain here. Once her decision was made, no one wanted to allow her back into Gorlassar. They believed her association with mortals tainted her with darkness.”
Aneirin looked as if sharing this gave him deep sorrow, and Ahnalyn heard it in his voice.
“Your mother forsook the immortal realm—she would have lived forever here even after her husband died. We do not die unless our lives are taken from us, as was your mother’s case. I’m truly sorry.”
Aneirin paused again, looking pained. “She chose to keep the emrys from you. I guess she was afraid you’d choose to come to the dragon realm, and she’d lose you.”
Her head bobbed up and down as though she understood, but Ahnalyn didn’t. There was more that Aneirin left unsaid. “Did you know my mother? You know Seren so you must have known my mother.”
“I did. We actually spent a lot of time together. Niawen was older than I was. She liked to give me a rough time when Cephias fell in love with Seren.” Aneirin laughed.
“Seren and Cephias are in love?” Ahnalyn smiled.
“Yes, when two dragons mate, it’s forever, and the Dragon Riders are around each other… forever.”
Ahnalyn gave Aneirin an is-that-so look, but he didn’t acknowledge it. “How old was my mother exactly?”
“She would have been seven hundred and forty-eight this year,” Aneirin said, after a quick calculation.
Ahnalyn sat silent for a while, staring into Einion’s face, and absentmindedly brought him up for a kiss on the forehead. I can’t believe my mother was so old. She looked like I do now.
“Where do the dragon stones come from?” Ahnalyn asked, touching her stone and looking at Aneirin’s around his neck. His smooth stone was set in a silver ring firmly attached to a length of silver chain. Ahnalyn’s hung bound by a humble leather strap.
“Every dragon is born with a stone. It’s inside their egg, and they hatch with it in their arms. Usually the dragons choose the emrys who’ll be their rider. When your mother died, she passed the stone to you, and you became Seren’s rider. Seren felt when the connection was passed. She mourned your mother for a long time.” Aneirin looked down at the deck’s wooden planks. “But this case was unusual. A dragon has never lost a rider nor passed her stone on.”
“Oh? What of the light that came from you? When I first saw you, you were a blur of light,” Ahnalyn said, eager to learn more.
“We are light. Light radiates inside us. We receive our strength and power from it. I can call on the light and release it from me. That’s how I was able to face Caedryn. I sent light at him, although I was surprised he had defenses. I do not know much regarding him. I’ve been reflecting for several days. I know of no other mortal who can produce power like that.”
“Do you have an idea?” Ahnalyn asked.
“I might. When I faced Caedryn, I didn’t sense any light in him. He does not obtain his power from light, but rather darkness. There must be a source of darkness we haven’t encountered in the dragon realm. It’s all light there.”
“Brenin, my husband”—Ahnalyn blanched, painfully remembering the death of Lord Brenin—“said Caedryn and his people came from beyond the wilderness. Not much else is known about them.”
Aneirin didn’t say anything, so Ahnalyn spoke again. “Where’s Cephias? I haven’t seen him since we arrived.”
“Cephias is scouting. He’s trying to figure out what Caedryn’s doing and where they’re keeping Seren. It’s difficult to remain unseen so they don’t learn where he’s hiding. He informed me he’s in a cave on the coast where the ridge meets the sea. Cephias is worried about Seren. He agreed to find you because of Seren, and this is why I’m here in the mortal realms. I wouldn’t let my dragon come here alone.”
The magnitude of their sacrifice soaked through Ahnalyn, and she slumped her shoulders. “I’m sorry all of you are involved in this. I’m grateful Seren came for me but not at the risk of her own life. She should have forgotten me and moved on… found a new rider.”
Aneirin smiled but said, “It doesn’t work that way. She couldn’t forsake you. I know it seems she did, but that’s not the truth. She listened for you and whispered to you in your dreams, strengthening you and supporting you after your mother’s death. But you shut her out a lot. I guess if you understood what was going on, you would have been open to her and her help.”
Ahnalyn felt her composure unhinge, coursing as unrest throughout her body—little bugs that bit and itched. She had been told only lies, and now when she heard the ever-revealing truth, it laid a path of shame right to her feet. Ahnalyn rose abruptly, startling Einion so that he cried. Aneirin rose and reached as if to offer assistance to the wailing baby, but Ahnalyn drew Einion to her chest and stepped back, shaking her head.
“For months I’ve been a prisoner. For years I’ve felt so alone. The whole time, my mother was hiding her former life from me. You or Seren never came to me. Never once did she tell me who she was. I thought Seren was my mother speaking from beyond the grave! Shut her out! How dare you say this?” Einion was howling, and Ahnalyn’s voice rose high above him. Her body flushed with heat from yelling loudly. This was so typical of her tirades since her mother’s death. Her father was not here to calm her down. Tears stole down her cheeks, and she hiccoughed. “Your immortal dragon realm—” The familiar pressure in her body swelled.
Aneirin stepped forward and reached out. “Ahnalyn.” But his voice was hidden underneath another one of her outcries.
“I’m too tainted with darkness. Get away from me, Aneirin. I can see you’re too perfect. I sure hope they let you back into Gorlassar.” Her hands were shaking—no, throbbing. She recalled the moment in the forest when her excess energy sank into the ground, causing it to quake. What’s happening to me? I wish my father were here. Tad!
“Ahnalyn!” Aneirin’s voice rose louder, and he touched her shoulder, but Ahnalyn shrugged him off and turned away.
“No, don’t fight me.” He grabbed her elbow and pulled her close, encircling Einion between them.
Serenity slipped through her, resonati
ng from his touch. Like her father’s crushing embrace, it soothed her. Einion’s sobs quieted. As soon as the burden subsided, she pushed away from Aneirin.
Aneirin spoke again, his voice steady as if Ahnalyn hadn’t had an outburst. “Ahnalyn, it’s time. Open your mind and see where Seren is. See through her mind what her surroundings are and make sure she’s all right. Cephias and I are formulating a plan to rescue her.”
Ahnalyn looked over her shoulder at Aneirin. She knew she had to make recompense for Seren’s capture, even if they had wronged her. Ahnalyn’s words came out bitter. “I have to rescue her. She’s my dragon.”
Then they could leave her in peace.
CHAPTER TEN
GUILTY DISCOMFORT
As soon as Ahnalyn slipped from view, Aneirin was pestered by Cephias.
Don’t you think that was a little too overwhelming for Ahnalyn? Cephias asked.
I wasn’t trying to guilt her, Aneirin said. He opened his mind’s eye to his dragon’s sight. Cephias was sitting at the mouth of a sea cave, and he had a good view of the waves crashing on the shore. A distant ship sailed on the horizon, visible because of Cephias’s enhanced dragon sight.
You have to look at life from her point of view. Cephias sighed, clearly enjoying the beach—there were no beaches in Gorlassar.
Aneirin let the relaxing feelings of his dragon’s seaside lounging wash over him. I’m trying. This world is so foreign. There’s darkness pressing in from every side. It’s taking me longer to grasp what it must have been like for Niawen to come here. I understand why Seren wanted to come home to Gorlassar, but I’ll never understand why she didn’t bring Niawen.
You mean, why the High Council wouldn’t let Niawen come home. You know why. She was carrying Ahnalyn, and by then it was too late for her, Cephias said. The darkness grew in her own womb.