Chronicles of the Half-Emrys Box Set (Books 1-3)

by Lisa Rector

  Their bond restored, Aneirin teased Cephias like a brother again. Aneirin spent a lot of time each day retraining Cephias to fly with new sight. He could see when his mind’s eye was open to Aneirin, but it was from a different perspective. Flying in open sky was easy, but in tight spaces, Cephias clipped his wings against obstacles as he grew accustomed to flying with Aneirin’s normal eyesight, from the point of view on his back.

  Cephias’s frustration with being blind tested Seren’s patience as she lovingly cared for her mate. The evenings were challenging once Aneirin was home and his vision turned to other tasks. Cephias closed his sight to Aneirin and learned to manage on his own. Luckily, his sense of smell and touch improved, which made life easier for everyone.

  Aneirin had even less free time than Ahnalyn. She wouldn’t see him for several days, sometimes weeks, and when he was home, she would see him only in the mornings at breakfast. Tension had grown between them, and this made his presence unbearable.

  To ease the strain, Aneirin was gone for long stretches of time in the mortal realms, organizing the Dragon Riders into patrols. Lord Ithel had given Aneirin a position, Dragon Liaison. Outposts for the dragons and riders to sleep and rest were set up across the land. The Dragon Riders would have shifts for a couple of weeks while they patrolled the country before returning to Gorlassar for respite. Aneirin made sure everything was running smoothly.

  No retaliation from Rolant ever came. Lord Caedryn’s successor welcomed the influx of dragons to keep his people safe.

  But the words of Caedryn haunted Ahnalyn and were a topic in the councils. There’s far worse than I! You think that if you defeat me that will end the darkness. A greater power than mine will follow in my stead! The reality remained, there were more half-emrys out there. Evil still lurked. As a half-emrys, Caedryn stemmed from two bloodlines. Aneirin said that Urien’s daughter left the realm long before Niawen. There could be untold numbers of half-emrys carrying the darkness in the mortal world.

  ***

  A rare moment allowed Ahnalyn to slip away. Einion was still asleep in his cradle with Catrin promising to watch out for him if he woke. Ahnalyn ambled along the path in Aneirin’s grove on a drippy morning mid-spring when the fog still lingered, glistening as if a magical spell had been cast among the low new-leafing shrubs. Like stars among a mossy backdrop, tiny, white woodland flowers dotted the landscape beneath the trees. Standing on straight stalks, miniature saw-toothed leaves looked like umbrellas for furry creatures. Plump raindrops ran from the leaves in the canopy and bounced on the ground and off Ahnalyn’s head. It was another world away from the city and its council, and she was glad for it.

  Months had past since the conversation with Aneirin. They had not talked about events that transpired since then. Aneirin maintained his distance while he had a good stew with his thoughts. Ahnalyn understood and gave him space. But she had been mulling over her feelings as well. She would have to tell Aneirin the truth. Holding them inside caused pain and distraction, but waking on the mornings when Aneirin was home and seeing the pain on his face disheartened her. If Aneirin sensed her feelings, he didn’t acknowledge them. Ahnalyn had learned how to control and therefore conceal her emotions with Meinwen’s guidance. The High Emrys couldn’t let just anyone read her.

  She thought he had left for the day, but as she came around a bend in the path, Aneirin was standing in the fog with his back to her. His silver cloak with his silver-blond hair would have been ideal camouflage except for the fact Aneirin glowed slightly. She should have discerned ahead, and she would have seen him.

  Ahnalyn pinched her face together. Once again intent on giving him his space, she turned to retreat, but Aneirin called out to her.

  Nervous foreboding filled her as she watched Aneirin jog toward her.

  “I sensed you coming and waited. I’ve been out here for some time. I was going to find you, but this is better,” Aneirin said. “Are we alone?”

  By this he meant Meinwen.

  “Yes.”

  “Can we walk?” Aneirin asked.

  She shrugged. “All right.”

  They wandered down the path while Ahnalyn guessed at Aneirin’s mood. He didn’t touch Ahnalyn. He didn’t hold her hand as they had when strolling through these woods months ago—which seemed another lifetime. Ahnalyn looked at Aneirin and sensed his tension, the unrest coursing through his body. She stopped and looked up at the trees. Aneirin stopped beside her and waited. She decided to be the one to speak first.

  “I’m still the same Ahnalyn,” she whispered with her eyes closed. Water droplets splashed her face as they ran off the leaves in the canopy.

  “I’m trying to tell myself that,” Aneirin said.

  She could feel his eyes on her.

  “You have fallen out of love?” Ahnalyn asked. Her eyes remained closed, and her face was still tilted to the heavens.

  Aneirin stopped breathing.

  “You feel as though you were too rash with your feelings.” Ahnalyn said, probing. “You carry lines of worry around your eyes. You feel anxious, like you’re waiting for something.”

  “Is this wisdom from my mother or from your own understanding?”

  A pang of fear stabbed through her. Was she right? Maybe Aneirin didn’t love her anymore. She swallowed and replied. “My own.”

  She heard Aneirin’s deep breath before he stepped closer, so close she could smell his earthen scent from being out among the trees.

  “Life has changed. I feel like a different person. My feelings are divided—in turmoil,” Aneirin said.

  A splinter slid into her heart. Ahnalyn opened her eyes and looked at Aneirin. This time, she would be the one to cast her gaze deep into his soul behind those piercing-green eyes.

  The light in his eyes took her in, drawing her deep into his subconscious held within his inner light. She saw what Aneirin had been searching for, the day before the battle, the day he looked inside Ahnalyn. He was the same Aneirin, the same man who did, in fact, love her. His eyes could not lie.

  She stepped back. “There you are, Aneirin. You’re still there. You’re still the same person.” Ahnalyn sighed. “You told me I could tell you anything. You can tell me anything. Aneirin, what’s bothering you?”

  He didn’t say anything, so Ahnalyn grabbed his hand, laying it over her heart and covering it with hers. “Do you not feel it? My spark is a fire! Because of you—you caused this. You loved me enough to show me I could love again. I am the same Ahnalyn—your Ahnalyn.”

  Her voice softened as she held his gaze. “The same Ahnalyn who loves you.”

  Aneirin’s mouth quivered. His brow furrowed. He looked deep into Ahnalyn’s eyes. She dropped all her barriers, all the walls built around her heart. What would he see? Fear once again pinched at Ahnalyn, but her eyes would not betray her. She did love him. He would see into her light-filled spirit and know she truly loved him. It was not a lie.

  His face eventually relaxed, and he started breathing normally. A change passed over his countenance, and she knew he had seen the truth.

  Ahnalyn smiled, subduing her laugh. “Is that what you were worried about?” This was a serious moment for Aneirin, but after all this time, to let him know how she felt was a relief for Ahnalyn.

  “When did you know?” Aneirin asked.

  “I knew when I made my choice. I gave you up, succumbed to the darkness to heal you. I gave you all my light. I thought I would die, knowing I’d lost you forever. The pain was more than I could stand.”

  Aneirin touched her chin. “And I would have died for you, done anything to keep you from falling to the darkness. Oh Ahnalyn, I can’t begin to understand how that must have felt. I would’ve never asked you to give me all your light. You didn’t have to save me.”

  “But I did. I had to. It was the only way. Meinwen could not have given me her light, and we would have lost.”

  “I understand. I was a fool. Will you forgive me for not seeing clearly?”

  “Of cou
rse, I forgive you. I love you.”

  “Why did you wait so long to tell me? I’ve been in agony for weeks.” He crushed Ahnalyn to himself and buried his head in her hair.

  “I… I’m sorry,” Ahnalyn mumbled. She pulled away and backed up several paces.

  “What… did I do now?” Aneirin asked.

  A devious smile spread over her face. Ahnalyn waved her hand overhead, casting energy upward. A shower of raindrops fell, soaking Aneirin as he covered his head. She laughed and said, “You’ve been under too much stress lately. You need to have some fun.”

  “Oh, you’re going to get it.” Aneirin lunged for her, but she jumped away.

  They ran through the trees, shaking down floods of raindrops on each other, dodging and hiding as the droplets fell. Ahnalyn was laughing, but when Aneirin caught her by the arm, she squealed and slipped on the wet leaves, pulling him down with her. Aneirin landed on top of Ahnalyn, his hands braced on either side to keep from crushing her, but the contact was close enough that her chest swelled against his.

  Raindrops flecked his face and eyelashes, and his nose was cherry red because of the chill. Ahnalyn’s hair clung to her cheek, so Aneirin slipped his fingers across her face, unsticking the strands one by one. His hands slid under Ahnalyn’s shoulders, cradling her head.

  Eager, Ahnalyn reached up to bring his face to hers. Aneirin’s nose touched hers before he turned his head and pressed his wet, cold mouth to hers. Ahnalyn pushed fire up from her heart-center to heat his frigid lips, and a puff of steam escaped as a result. With a smirk of amusement on his face, Aneirin pulled away. Ahnalyn drew him back, but she too laughed through the kiss.

  She could have been floating with his arms around her and his body pressed against hers. Ahnalyn allowed this moment to ground her and be her foundation for the future, because she had found the absolute truth in his light and hers—together, as it should be.

  EPILOGUE

  REVELATIONS AND REBIRTH

  The orange sun peeked over the mountain ridge. Where Ahnalyn stood, a sliver of light shone across the valley and over the hill, bouncing the rays off the flower blossoms, lighting them in a dazzling display of vibrant colors. Dew covered the ground, and the air smelled of damp earth. The morning was quiet and peaceful. The bees hadn’t even started humming. Ahnalyn sighed inwardly as the air tickled her creamy skin.

  Gradually, the sky brightened. A rustling in the grass stirred the silence.

  Ahnalyn turned and saw little feet pressing toward her, making a trail in the dewdrop-covered stalks. Loose umber curls hung past his chin. Einion had inherited his curly hair and his mischievous grin from Brenin. On many occasions, his Granduncle Sieffre had the pleasure of regaling Einion with stories of his father’s youth, teaching Einion what a great man his father was—noble, brave, and filled with a love of life. Ahnalyn pictured a young Brenin bouncing through the meadow toward her. Einion would look exactly like him when he was older. He even carried the same gleam in his eyes and with it the same love of life.

  The thought gave Ahnalyn a momentary pang of sorrow.

  “Mam”—little eyes squinted against the sunlight—“you’re always watching the sunrise.”

  “She never lets me sleep.” Ahnalyn rubbed her round belly.

  Einion pressed his face against his mother’s stomach and kissed it. “Good morning, Meinwen.”

  Ahnalyn smiled. This seemed familiar, like the dream she’d had long ago. She would always remember it.

  She sensed Aneirin’s energy as he approached and welcomed his arms as they slid around her. His soft lips brushed her neck. As his fingertips glided in whispering strokes over her belly, Aneirin breathed in deeply behind her ear.

  Ahnalyn sighed. Aneirin never seemed to tire of her wild flower and honey scent.

  Of course Aneirin’s daughter was also his mother. The notion was hard for him to comprehend. His daughter’s body was his own flesh and blood, but her spirit was Meinwen’s. This might have been strange to any mortal, but Ahnalyn had given up on normal. Her life had been extraordinary since she met Brenin, and the usual rules didn’t apply to the emrys, as she had come to find out.

  One minute Meinwen was in Ahnalyn’s thoughts, as on any other day, guiding Ahnalyn in her duties as High Emrys. The next minute, Meinwen said, “It’s time. Do not fear. I’ve taught you all you need to know for the next several years.” Ahnalyn felt the first flutters in her stomach, meaning she was on her own, and Meinwen’s spirit had entered its body.

  Ahnalyn watched tears of joy and relief spring to Aneirin’s eyes when he felt those flutters for the first time. His mother would be reborn, whole again in a new body, and he would raise her as his own as she had raised him. It couldn’t have been more confusing for him, but he accepted it and looked forward to the day he would see her again.

  Every day Ahnalyn touched her stomach and talked to Meinwen. She couldn’t hear her, but she sensed her emotions—pleasure to move her body again, peculiarity at the strange environment in the womb, impatience while waiting for rebirth. But mostly peace. As Ahnalyn’s belly grew, she experienced a calming shift as well. Everything was right. Life was as it should be.

  This was entirely different from her pregnancy with Einion.

  A deluge of light was still inside Ahnalyn, from her own energy, not just Meinwen’s. Having been tutored by Meinwen’s knowledge, Ahnalyn had become a powerful emrys. No longer fighting between the powers of light and darkness simplified the learning process.

  And the baby was growing with light each day too. When she was of age, at sixteen, Meinwen would reign again as High Emrys, a duty Ahnalyn would be glad to give up. Until then, Ahnalyn carried the burden.

  She wondered how difficult it’d be for Meinwen to cope with being an infant and wondered what her level of comprehension would be upon birth. It’d be frustrating to be stuck in such a helpless body—but better than not having one or sharing it with your daughter-in-law.

  “She’s finally asleep this morning.” Aneirin laughed as he pulled his hands down his exhausted face. He was usually up most of the night, being kicked in the back, as if in retribution for his behavior while in Meinwen’s womb.

  “Aneirin, remember when I refused to tell you that dream ages ago?” Ahnalyn asked.

  “How could I forget the night I held you in my arms? You woke up all bright with light, and you were so embarrassed. I remember it well.” Aneirin grinned and twisted a strand of her hair around his finger. “You said you’d never tell me.”

  She smiled at him and poked his ribs. “Maybe now I won’t.”

  Einion looked up at his father and mother and wrapped his little arms around both of them. “What was it, Mam? Please, tell me.” He tugged on his mother’s sleeve.

  “Exactly this,” Ahnalyn said.

  Aneirin smiled all too innocently.

  ***

  Ahnalyn paced the room in labor, stopping and wincing as a contraction ripped through her body. Aneirin recalled the situation he’d faced five years prior and his helplessness while Ahnalyn was in labor with Einion.

  Aneirin caught an unpleasant look as Ahnalyn bent over and grabbed the edge of the bureau. A rattling moan started in her throat as she braced herself with Catrin in her usual position rubbing Ahnalyn’s lower back. Aneirin attempted to help by stroking her arm.

  Catrin pushed him away. “I’ll take care of this. She doesn’t want you to touch her.”

  So Aneirin hovered in the corner feeling useless. A couple of times when Ahnalyn gripped the smooth handle of her hairbrush, he thought she’d let it loose at his head.

  Aneirin heard a faint guffaw.

  I wouldn’t blame her if she did, Cephias said.

  As the labor progressed, with the contractions quick and hard, Aneirin grew nervous. Not much longer. Come on, Meinwen. Minutes crawled along as Aneirin failed miserably to help—he was retreating out of the room when, finally, Catrin coaxed Ahnalyn into bed and made Aneirin climb behind her. Aneirin called up rel
axing feelings and pushed them into Ahnalyn. Once the tranquility rushed through her, Meinwen was born seconds later in an exasperated groan from Ahnalyn.

  Not a cry passed her lips. Meinwen blinked her emerald eyes as Catrin wiped away the blood and fluid. A delicate, little cough cleared her lungs. Catrin passed a naked and wiggling baby to Ahnalyn. Aneirin stared over Ahnalyn’s shoulder at Meinwen’s bright pink, moist skin. Her hair was so blonde it could barely be seen, but enough was there in thin wisps covering her crown. And she was lustrous. Aneirin stuck his finger in her hand, and Meinwen’s firm grip made him laugh.

  Einion came into the room, ushered by Catrin, and climbed on the bed with his mother and father. He kissed the baby on top of her head and touched her cheeks. They were the picture of happiness.

  Catrin cleared her throat. “A crowd is waiting…”

  Aneirin scooped up Meinwen, wrapped her in a blanket, and carried her outside. He knew what they were waiting for.

  The group was comprised of Lord Ithel and his sons and daughters. Two dragons were present, Glyndwr and Blodeuyn. All were eager to behold the new babe, their mother and most beloved matron.

  Lord Ithel stepped forward and took Meinwen in his arms, kissing her cherubic cheeks and weeping unabashedly. All his children gathered around to gaze at their mother’s new mortal form.

  Ithel embraced his son. “Well done, Aneirin.”

  Humility filled Aneirin as his father conveyed pride and respect through his touch. Aneirin was no longer “little Aneirin” in the eyes of anyone.

  Lord Ithel turned and passed through his crowd of children. He approached Blodeuyn and knelt before her.

  Blodeuyn brought her great dragon face down to the baby and sniffed, huffing air out against the two of them. A toothy dragon grin curled her lips. Blodeuyn brought forth a claw and held it open for everyone to see, revealing her green dragon stone.

  “She is my Meinwen. I choose her as my Dragon Rider forever and always,” Blodeuyn said with a deep, silky voice.