by Lisa Rector
Rhianu slid the woolen gown, dyed a pale blue, over her head. Emlyn shuffled around to the back and tied the waist. The fit was loose but shaped to her curves with a low waist cinching tight where Emlyn tied it. At the cuff of the long sleeves, Emlyn had embroidered twining vines in green with white flowers. A sheer fabric graced the opening of the scooping neckline in the same shade of blue as the dress and came up below her collarbones.
“Very lovely.” Emlyn clucked. “It was the best match for your hair. The pale blue with the bright red. It works well. Not a bad sewing job if I do say so myself.”
“It’s wonderful,” Rhianu said, feeling exposed, possibly more than when she stood naked before Emlyn. She was unsure if the flow of the dress, which defined her curves, made her feel delicate and fragile, or if something within her did. The light within her?
Rhianu gazed into a looking glass, noting her straight nose and full lips, dark skin and atypically colored, red hair. She raised her eyebrows when she looked deeply into the dark pools of her brown eyes. She had not seen herself since her memory loss, and Rhianu was sure she was looking at an outsider. She didn’t feel like herself at all. Who am I? Her bold features would suggest someone who was certain of who she was—someone with confidence. To know nothing, except the word of Aerona, created an itching irritation beneath her skin. Rhianu scratched at her neck, leaving faint red marks.
They left the bathroom at the side of the house and entered the main room with an attached kitchen, including a cooking stove, a table with four chairs, a cozy fireplace in the corner, and, at the other side, a bed just the size for the two Eilians, short but wide.
The men worked in the kitchen, preparing a meal.
Einion turned and stared at Rhianu while she entered the room. His eyes sparkled in the firelight, and if she was not mistaken, his skin glowed with a faint radiance, which disappeared when their eyes met. Rhianu looked away, feeling heat in her face.
“You’re looking better.” Einion was obviously aware of the moment that passed between them, but like a gentlemen, he didn’t falter and expose her humiliation.
Hadyn placed bowls of soup on the table, along with bread and butter. “Come, sit at the table and eat.”
Returning to work, Einion placed silverware and a jar of honey on the table. Emlyn bustled in and filled cups with frothy ale.
They ate and laughed and enjoyed fond memories. Rhianu could almost pretend she was a part of their past because the Eilian explained everything in vast amounts of detail and made her feel overly welcomed—once they moved past the hair, which was brought up a few more times by both of the little people. They asked her questions about her life, but Rhianu didn’t have any answers for them.
She just could not remember.
***
“Won’t you stay the night?” Emlyn asked again.
Rhianu noted the pleading tone in her voice. How could Einion say no to their captivating hosts, who sat before the fire? Hadyn smoked a pipe in his cozy armchair, which had seen better days, and Emlyn sipped a cup of tea. Rhianu and Einion sat cross-legged on the floor like two children, at the knees of their parents, listening to a bedtime story.
“I don’t want to be any trouble.” Einion smiled up at the little old lady.
“Posh, you know me better than that, my darling Einion. I would keep you forever if I could,” Emlyn said.
“It’s growing late. I’ll send a message to Trahaearn and see what he thinks. We were planning on flying through the night.”
“Nonsense,” Hadyn said. “Stay, and we’ll fix you a fine breakfast with sausage and biscuits.”
“What do you think, Rhianu?” Einion asked, unable to suppress a smile in the glowing firelight.
“I have no plans. I mean, honestly? My life, as I know it, started from this morning. In the meantime, I’ll accept you as my guide and follow you. I am tired,” Rhianu added with a sudden yawn. Embarrassed, she clapped her hands over her mouth.
“All right, Trahaearn said he’s game with anything.”
Rhianu watched Einion’s eyelids flutter slightly while he and his dragon communicated.
“Trahaearn said, ‘Give me a holler when you’re ready.’ He was yawning too and having a good time harassing Aerona,” Einion said. “Though, I’m not sure she appreciated it. You should talk to her, Rhianu.”
Rhianu was already deep in conversation with her dragon.
As soon as Aerona heard that they wouldn’t be traveling on, she groaned. Leave me with this maniac for the night? He was dive-bombing, like a sea gull, on fish in the ocean! He thought landing on the beach next to me and spraying surf in my face was funny!
You’re on the beach? I’ve never seen the beach! Rhianu exclaimed.
Yes, you have. Not this one in particular. Don’t you remember standing in the numbing ocean and washing the blood off your face along Morvith’s northern beach? The battle was the bloodiest you ever fought, and you were ecstatic with the victory. After you fell off me in the air, you slaughtered men with your sword. I took a spear in the chest that day. Your mother healed me. You don’t remember? I hope the memory returns. The battle was the turning point of your reign. We had the mortals at that point.
I don’t remember. That’s atrocious. I killed people?
You were magnificent. I’ve never seen you so glorious. I remember how your face shone with pleasure and joy over your triumph. You even gave that commander scum who fled from battle a quick death instead of a slow torture, Aerona mused.
I feel sick.
It’s all right. You’ll embrace who you are soon enough.
Right. I’m sorry you have to deal with Trahaearn. When we arrive at Terrin for the coronation, you don’t have to stay with him.
You can count on it, Aerona said.
Rhianu broke connection with Aerona when she realized the room had grown quiet. Einion was staring at her—the Eilian watching them both. Rhianu twisted her braid in her hands and looked down at her lap.
“Are you all right?” Einion asked. “I guess Aerona is not thrilled. You looked slightly alarmed by whatever she was saying. I apologize if she’s giving you grief because of Trahaearn.”
“No, that’s fine. Aerona added more to my disconcerting history. Not anything I expected. It caught me off guard.”
Emlyn cleared her voice. “It’s time Hadyn and I retired. Einion, you know where the blankets are. You can make yourself a nice, comfortable pallet. Try not to stay up talking all night.” She winked at Einion, but Rhianu saw it.
Emlyn and Hadyn crossed the room and climbed into bed. Einion opened a wardrobe stuffed full of blankets and furs and pulled them all out. Rhianu watched Einion slide the chairs back away from the fire, opening up space on the braided hearthrug. Casting furtive glances at him, she helped Einion arrange the bedding into two inviting piles, but he was intent on his work while he smoothed the blankets. As Rhianu curled her legs under herself on the left pallet, she wondered how Einion could be unruffled when they were about to lie down beside each other as two strangers.
“I hope this is all right.” Once Einion sat, he tucked his knees to his chest and leaned over them. “I promise I won’t be improper.”
Someone was already snoring softly on the other side of the room. Rhianu shrugged, even though she was not sure. “Yes, it’s fine. I’m not concerned.” Was that a lie? Could Einion tell?
They whispered small talk for a while about the Eilian and their bizarre customs. That topic was safe—events in the present that Rhianu didn’t have to fret about.
Einion didn’t look at her. Maybe he thought it would be more polite to stare into the fire than into her face. But she stared at him. She watched Einion’s chin and lips move as he talked, but he held his body as still as a statue. And though Einion’s greater muscles were rigid, every once in a while, she saw a finger twitch or a fiber tense in the arms that hugged his knees. He looked controlled, but the nuances hinted at unrest.
She couldn’t figure him out. So
serious, and yet, when something delighted him, he dropped the walls concealing his playful side.
He’s hiding his insecurities, Aerona said. This is why we’re here. The young prince is nervous about becoming king. He’s vulnerable to your influence.
“Tell me more about the emrys and the light,” Rhianu said, ignoring Aerona. “I don’t know what the difference between an emrys and a half-emrys is. Aerona says I’m really old. How long do we live?”
Einion looked pensive as he stared at her. “Forever, unless you’re killed. Our bodies can die if inflicted with injury, but the main difference is that you and I have one mortal parent. With that brings the one flaw—the darkness. We’re born with both within ourselves—light and darkness—because of our mortal heritage. Emrys are born with light, thus they’re the sole guardians of the dragons. Mother says you can choose which power to wield. I’ve never used any of the darkness. I can’t use it in Gorlassar. I’ve only used the light because of the protection Deian set at the portal—”
Ask him more about this. We need to know what’s at the portal, Aerona said.
Not now.
“—but I can feel the darkness inside me. It becomes more tangible—weighted—when I’m angry or have troubled feelings. Right here.” Einion dropped a knee to the side, exposing his chest to Rhianu, and touched his heart. “You can perceive the lack of light in others if you try. It’s a spot void of light. I can see you have a smidge right up here.” He reached over and touched Rhianu’s temple.
Rhianu jerked away. He’s aware of my darkness. You said it was supposed to be hidden. In a sudden rush, she remembered the pain and remembered forcing the darkness from her body to her mind. She clutched at her chest feeling abashed from the sudden memory.
“It’s all right,” Einion said.
He had seen her mortification.
“I still have it too. You’re the third half-emrys I know of. My mother has completely rid herself of the darkness, so it’s possible. Though I’m not sure how.” He smiled, showing his sympathy.
“This is all insane. I’m having these flashes of my life, and Aerona shares graphic details of my past.” She lowered her voice and looked into Einion’s eyes. “I think I was a horrible person.” She was afraid to say the truth aloud. She was a horrible person.
“Perhaps it was from the things your captors—”
Yes, my captors. Rhianu dropped her shoulders.
“—made you do. Aerona said you were under influence of an evil power. Perhaps you couldn’t control your actions. Perhaps if you had a different choice you would have chosen a different life. As it is, I’m impressed with the amount of light you possess. You must have a strong will.”
“Could the darkness in my mind be why I can’t access my memories?”
“That’s possible. Something has created a block.”
Rhianu sighed and closed her eyes.
“Here.” He scooted closer to her. “Do you ever play with your light? I know a few tricks that will cheer you up.”
Einion lifted Rhianu’s hand off her knee, and she tried not to gasp as her fingers tingled from his touch. He held her hand palm-side up. His other hand hovered in the air, palm turned to hers. “I can borrow particles of your light…”
A pulling sensation tugged at Rhianu’s palm as if someone drew a thread through the center while Einion cupped his other hand under hers and supported it. A ball of light gradually formed between them. Rhianu marveled at the pink light, which was bright enough that she had to squint her eyes when looking at it.
“Hold your hand flat.” He beamed at her with a greater intensity than she would have liked.
When her hand was braced underneath, he smacked his top hand down, palm to palm, against hers. The ball of light smashed, and the light burst out. Rhianu recalled the likeness of a cup of water hitting the floor and the contents spattering in a pattern across the stones, except, the light splotches hovered in the air before disappearing. It was beautiful. She couldn’t resist smiling. Einion grinned, showing he was pleased with her reaction.
“Oh, wow,” she whispered.
“I have another one, but you have to lie down for it.”
Rhianu gave Einion a curious look.
“Trust me.”
They lay back against the cozy furs. The gently crackling fire guarded against the coolness of the spring air and scolded the silence that stretched underneath. Content, Rhianu closed her eyes.
Einion spoke with reverence, as if not to break the enchantment. “Watch.”
Rhianu obeyed, opening her eyes. Einion’s right hand stretched toward the ceiling. He swept it through the air as though wiping spider webs from a path. Specks of light appeared like stars. Rhianu recognized their placement in the sky, exactly as if they were sleeping out under the heavens.
She gasped. “How did you—”
“Light is simple to manipulate. Emrys can envision their light to do many things. All I did was shape it to conform to my thoughts. Watch this.”
Lifting his hands to the starry canopy, Einion wiggled his fingertips and crossed his hands over and back. Little flashes of light shot like a meteor shower across the pretended sky. Einion did it once more, and this time one flash, like a shooting star, fell over their heads.
“That’s incredible. I never imagined,” Rhianu breathed.
Einion brought his fist to his mouth and blew into his palm while opening it slowly. A silver light shimmer floated to the stars and hung there. “A moon.” His face shone under its glow.
Rhianu gave him a playful shove in the arm. “That’s amazing. Now you’re showing off.”
“My friends have already seen my tricks. It’s fun to have somebody else to show them to.”
They laughed and talked in mellow undertones into the night so as not to wake their sleeping hosts. Rhianu was never sure who fell asleep first, but she remembered feeling such peace and stillness as she never felt—or remembered—before.
As the stars hovered over their heads, Rhianu dreamed they guarded her slumber, only finally fleeing once the light broke forth signaling a new day.
CHAPTER TEN
DARKNESS AND DOUBT
Einion stretched his arms overhead and arched his back in a lazy yawn. He had talked all night with Rhianu and found opening his eyes wearisome, even with the morning light streaming through the windows. Chirping birds sweetly broke the silence now that Hadyn’s rousing snores had evaporated.
The quiet would not last. Emlyn rose early, and once she woke, she would set Einion straight to work. Reluctantly, he rolled over to his stomach and propped himself on his elbows. The fire had burned down, and a few faint embers clung to their flecks of orange glow.
His sleeping companion lay blissfully still. Rhianu had rolled onto her side in her sleep and had tucked her hand under her chin. Einion couldn’t help but notice she was quite endearing in her slumber. Her braided hair had loosened, allowing the shorter strands to fall free around her face, contrasting the brilliant red with her olive skin—such an unusual combination. Long lashes rested against her cheeks with a random one lying near her nose.
Einion resisted the urge to blow in her face and set it free.
Her red eyebrows had more brown than the locks on her head. A straight nose was the most prominent feature on her face, and along with pronounced cheekbones and jawline, they lent a bold, though not severe, attitude to her. Even in her sleep.
Einion noticed her lips—luscious and full. Why was it always the lips? They were the color of juicy berries, and the upper lip had an oh-so-pleasing divot. His heart skipped a beat while he stared at them, imagining what it would be like to sample one taste.
One taste. Emptiness panged inside. His chest tightened, and pressure built in his heart-center. A whirling desire crept under the surface of Einion’s skin. By the Master!
She could be mine. Rhianu had no memory—no past. She was an alluring blank slate, and she would want him after many years as a prisoner. Rhianu would
call him her own, and she would please him in every way imaginable. He wouldn’t even have to ask. He could just take, and she would let him.
Einion leaned in closer to her and closed his eyes. He inhaled and caught a whiff of lavender and rose water from her evening bath. A chill ran down his spine and goose bumps pricked his skin. A heavy sensation pulled him down into the furry bedding.
Opening his eyes, Einion looked at the dragon stone around her neck, tucked up against her collarbone. Its smooth, green surface echoed the greenish veining under her satiny, dark skin. Rhianu took a deep, punctuated inhale, and her chest rose to her throat. Einion could make out the supple curves through the delicate fabric around her neck.
Hello! Einion shook his head. That interjection was not his own. Trahaearn was better than any conscience, and he censored him now.
Einion pushed himself up, quickly and silently, and slipped out the door onto the deck. He stumbled over to the far railing, which came mid-thigh, and slumped to his knees among the many pots awaiting their spring plantings. Einion draped his arms and head over the railing and glanced down into the leafy understory. Dragging his hand over his face, he took slow, steady breaths. He’d had lusty feelings for women before, but this felt different. Exhaling at length, he tried to calm his beating heart.
Trahaearn, what was that? Where did those thoughts come from?
That was all very intense, Brother. I have seen you eye Catrin up and down when you’re playing your games, but you slipped over the line.
Einion slid his fingers into his hair and tugged on the roots. I feel peculiar. I have an antsy sensation under my skin. I more than wanted Rhianu—I wanted to possess her.
Relax. It will pass. You were warned about feelings like this.
Einion pulled away from the railing and sank all the way into a ball over his knees with his hands and forehead resting on the deck’s wooden planks. His body relaxed. You mean what Father warned me against?