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

by Lisa Rector

“Murdering is a sin—an unpardonable transgression,” Ithel said. “We’ve never known this could result in a loss of light. We’ve never faced this in Gorlassar, but it makes sense. Committing such a sin would take away any light that they possess. Cysgod becomes their master, filling them with evil power.”

  “But we’ve done nothing to stop this. How did we not know this?”

  “The land beyond the wilderness has been veiled from my sight,” Meinwen said. “I cannot see past the void the darkness leaves. Deian wanted to keep our worlds separate. He wanted our world far away from the prison that holds the Evil.”

  “If Siana is Rhianu’s ancestor, she found her way across.” Einion still couldn’t believe the emrys had difficulty overcoming the old stigmas between the worlds. The emrys should have known and estimated the repercussions of Siana’s leaving the immortal realm several thousand years ago.

  “His influence still seeps across the world. Deian could not bind that with his light. Siana chose to follow Cysgod’s whisperings,” Meinwen said.

  Einion shook his head. “I don’t understand why.”

  “Why Siana would leave Gorlassar to heed the Dark Master?” Meinwen asked.

  “No. I don’t know why Deian wouldn’t prevent this. Why are there even Dark Emrys? Why let Cysgod’s influence still affect our worlds? Deian set the laws at the portal. He protects Gorlassar. Why couldn’t more be done?”

  “It’s not always given for us to know why. Many things we have to take on faith. Deian can’t change the laws that govern the world. He has to work within the laws, and that includes the powers that bind Cysgod.”

  Aneirin spoke up. “We must not forget the warning Caedryn gave us.”

  Einion stared at his stepfather. Given Aneirin’s history with Lord Caedryn, the one known half-emrys who had come from beyond the wilderness two decades prior, Aneirin wasn’t at all pleased with these new developments, and his ill humor showed on his face.

  “‘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,’” Aneirin said. “These are his words exactly. I remember all too clearly as he shouted them at me during our battle.”

  Even Einion had to admit many variables needed to be considered. Would the “far worse” come as Rhianu’s captors across the wilderness? Would Meuric eventually lead his army into the three realms?

  He read the faces around the room. Meinwen’s was impassive. Ithel’s brows furrowed with the same look that Aneirin’s face often sported. Ahnalyn sat wide-eyed and nodded at her husband’s words. She had faced Caedryn’s power head-on and fought him in battle along with her husband. Aneirin had nearly died. The dark power was nothing to be trifled with and could not be ignored.

  “What we need to realize with Aerona’s information is that the Dark Emrys do exist,” Aneirin said. “An evil army exists. We need to be ready.”

  Heads bobbed in agreement around the room. Aneirin would take this information back to Gorlassar and convene council there with Urien, the dragon army’s commander.

  “One more thing. Einion, are you set on helping Rhianu?” Aneirin asked. “Even given her history, even given the darkness in her mind, which none of us are blind to, are you sure you want this as you start your reign?”

  Einion closed his eyes and pinched up his face. “Father, how is her darkness any different from the darkness I carry?”

  Ahnalyn placed her hand over Aneirin’s hand. “Don’t press this.”

  Aneirin gave his wife a knowing look, but spoke anyway. “We can sense the evil in Rhianu’s mind. It’s not like yours, Einion. It’s not the same unbalance in her heart-center that you were born with. This evil is something else entirely.”

  “Sister,” Einion said, “you spoke with Rhianu. If I had reason to worry, you would have told me, right? It’s just a mark from her forced service. She has lost her memories. She’s innocent.” Was he being stubborn? Did he want to believe the best of Rhianu? Why? Because she was like him, and he thought he needed her? Or because she was another pretty face?

  Meinwen’s lips curled into a subtle smile, which caused Einion’s hair to prickle. She knew the truth, but she wouldn’t speak it. Everyone was well aware of how the High Emrys intervened with fate. Her intuition and guidance from Deian would not allow her to take away from someone’s agency, so she kept many revelations to herself.

  “I have spoken with her. Aneirin, you need not worry for Einion,” she said. “I have counseled him in this. Do not fear.”

  “But do you trust her?” Aneirin asked.

  Einion nodded his head slowly. Did he trust Rhianu? An untold warning swelled under his skin, but he didn’t want to heed it. He liked Rhianu. Her presence was a comfort. Her darkness might be different from his, but it was darkness—a power no one in this room could understand. They were all light filled. How could anyone know how it felt to carry this inside?

  And yet, he also remembered how his darkness flared inside him that night in Eilian. Having Rhianu near was like playing with fire. Fun and excitement. A bright burning to warm you—but hazardous. Danger hidden in a flickering flame of comfort. He would have to be careful with anyone who stirred up precarious feelings in him. As long as she didn’t fall for him—Einion couldn’t start another game, not with Rhianu. Dealing with her memory loss was enough for her, but did that mean she would be more susceptible to an available shoulder to cry on? She needed someone. He couldn’t deny her that. She had fallen into his life, and his duty was to help others.

  “I’ll give her the benefit of the doubt. She will be watched. While my trust in her isn’t concrete, she hasn’t done anything to earn my malice,” he said.

  Aneirin smiled. “Very well, Einion. You know your own mind, and you have a good heart. Let’s pray this works to your favor.”

  Einion decompressed for the length of one eye blink. How relaxed could he become with tomorrow looming over his head?

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  SPRING FESTIVAL

  A weight lifted once the coronation ended. A small weight, but Einion was pleased one less obstacle hung over him.

  His legs did not shake, and his hands did not tremble as Einion thought they would, as he stood in the palace’s grand hall in front of his subjects. Rain pounded the rooftop, and oddly, as he knelt for the priest to place the crown on his head, the storm’s rhythm lent a strength to his heartbeat—a steady confidence. Pride from the other emrys filled him. His crowning sealed a bond between the two worlds. The emrys trusted him with this duty, as young as he was, and as inexperienced as he was. Even the loyalty from his people astounded him—they would love him as well as they had loved Brenin. All these emotions encircled Einion as he rose and turned to face his people as their king.

  The dignitaries from Gorlassar and the other realms left him on his own, ruling as his imperfect, half-emryn self, but Einion had reliable counselors and had his emryn guard and dragon patrols. He had plenty of reinforcements, plenty of beings who carried the light and protected his people. Even though Meinwen and Lord Ithel returned to Gorlassar the following day, as had his parents, taking with them their supportive presence, Einion didn’t think life would be as taxing. He’d take one day at a time.

  Catrin said goodbye to Einion in private again, and true to her word, she didn’t budge in her determination to give him space. Cerys planned to lay her egg while Catrin stayed for the hatching. Einion wouldn’t see her for many months.

  In a solemn farewell, Catrin’s jealousy had dissipated, and what remained was the separation of two sad souls. She leaned her head against his chest, and their hearts beat together for what felt like the last time.

  I’m just being dramatic. They had spoken all that needed to be said. It was time for her to leave. Feeling heavy, Einion kissed Catrin on the top of her head. “Woman, you’d better write me. Don’t leave me waiting for news.”

  “I promise.”

  His damp shirt indicated she was cry
ing—again. Why all the tears? Where was Catrin’s impenetrable shell? It seemed her tears symbolized a finality with their parting—a parting that Catrin was apparently grasping more than Einion.

  He tightened his grip. Have mercy. They already dealt with this several days ago. Dragging out their farewell was achingly painful.

  This time, Einion was the one to let go, slowly prying her fingers off his waist.

  “Goodbye, Catrin.”

  And she left for the second time in his life.

  Could he live without his shadow? Her touch stilled his soul, but his physical desire for her burned him. At one time, he confided everything in her. Now he played immature diversions to hide his anguish. Two conflicting sensations, two conflicting needs, stirring up turmoil. Lust was not love. He didn’t need this. The separation was necessary.

  Taken aback, Einion felt relief. The feeling shifted to alarm, followed by guilt. Catrin’s my closest friend. Why does my heart feel lighter? Why am I not saddened by her departure?

  Because, she brought with her a torrent of emotions that were exhausting for you to sort through. I bet you could fly without a dragon if you wanted. Even I can feel the burden that’s lifted.

  Einion shook his head. I had no idea what our relationship was doing to me.

  ***

  With a busy week of spring festivals to attend, Einion didn’t have time to let Catrin’s absence trouble him. He could attend only a few of the festivities the provinces offered. Arthfael had already mapped out a prudent course. Last year he had visited the regions south of the capital. This year Einion would head north, over the mountains and visit the towns and villages on the coast, with the final stop at a small village tucked into the recesses of the mountains.

  It would be a satiating week of eating, and Trahaearn was more than excited. Out of every wild animal, every savory meat, his favorite was roast chicken. Einion groaned, thankful his emryn metabolism kept him trim.

  He asked Rhianu to come with him. She could be his lady, standing at his side. Einion realized it might give his subjects the wrong impression, that he had an intended, but he didn’t care. Having Rhianu near gave him courage, gave him someone to talk to about the same confusing darkness that they both faced.

  With the help of the dragons, Einion and Rhianu flew to the first village in only four hours. They were accompanied by a few choice members of his household, his ever-present guard, and Arthfael and his family.

  Standing with bundles of flowers in their arms, the villagers greeted them when the dragons landed. A shower of blossoms covered Einion as he slid from Trahaearn. The crowd ushered their new king to the designated spot at the edge of the village, surging around with eager, expectant faces looking on. Einion found himself with a goblet in his hand, and whether he was prepared or not, the blessing was happening.

  His hand shook as he held the water goblet over the crop field. He had gone over the words with Arthfael. A number of versions could be uttered because the prose was not set, but glancing over all the subjects ready to dance with their smiling faces full of joy for springtime, Einion’s mind blanked.

  Do the easy version, Einion. You can do it. Trahaearn was waiting for the dinner to start. He was famished.

  Einion didn’t answer him. The wind crept quietly over the fresh-plowed field where the seeds had been sown earlier that week. Last week’s downpour of nonstop rain had saturated the soil. This already showed a favorable outcome for the summer’s harvest. Deian smiled down on his children.

  Say something. Trahaearn started to feed him the words, but Einion’s mouth didn’t move. People shuffled their feet. The breeze rustled the grasses and the new-leafing spring shrubs at the edge of the field.

  If Einion could have moved, he would have shaken his head free from the stupor. His hand squeezed the water goblet until his hand ached. Einion’s heart constricted. He didn’t understand why he hesitated. He didn’t have a fear of public speaking. He knew his people, and they had confidence in him.

  That’s where they were wrong.

  They shouldn’t trust him. He was the first immortal to lead his people. The first immortal with the darkness inside. This was wrong.

  Movement beside him. Fingers curled around his hand on the goblet—gentle fingers, long, slender fingers, sending a rush of electricity up his arm. He blinked his eyes, turned his gaze off the people, and stared at Rhianu, noting her black lashes fluttering with her eyelids. She smiled at him. Her eyes told him he could do this. Her touch—the pressure of her fingers tightened around his. She reassured him. They were the same. She knew exactly how he felt. Together they lifted the goblet higher. Her faith in him sifted up his veins, and he opened his mouth, finally.

  When the prayer was done, Einion breathed a sigh of relief. He had done it. Rhianu moved through the crowd preparing to dance—the lively music had already started.

  Dazed, Einion watched Rhianu slipping away, her red hair bouncing against her back.

  Now, why didn’t my coaxing work, Einion? Trahaearn mumbled.

  Einion shook his head. He caught Trahaearn’s face at the edge of the field. I don’t know. I don’t know what came over me. But with Rhianu, I suddenly felt I could do it.

  I know why. I understand how you’re feeling. She’s like you. A dragon can’t help feeling jealous. You have a connection. I guess I could never measure up to that.

  Trahaearn… Einion frowned. Nothing can surpass our bond. Our connection is stronger than anything. Rhianu and I just have a similarity. Don’t be jealous. Now go enjoy your chicken, Brother.

  ***

  Rhianu rushed away from Einion. She couldn’t push her way through the throng fast enough. The sensation of Einion’s fingers burned into her palm as if she still held his hand. What’s wrong with me?

  She had come to the festivities to gain Einion’s trust. With his wavering before the blessing, she saw the perfect opportunity.

  But Rhianu didn’t expect his contact and his emotions to affect her with such intensity. All of his feelings seeped into her when she touched him. Rhianu didn’t know if this was her fault for not blocking them or if Einion too unsteady to control himself or if he trusted her enough to share his confusion and uncertainty. She had no choice but to push encouragement at him or she would have crumpled on the spot. Where Meinwen’s conversation had given her fuel to continue with the plan, Einion’s emotions had stripped her down—raw and naked. Vulnerable. His emotions clashed against her reality—she felt exactly the same way he did.

  They could have both been standing there completely exposed, like the worst dream ever. How many other emrys in the area sensed the same emotions coming from their king and his mysterious, exotic acquaintance?

  Aerona had pushed and pushed Rhianu to fulfill the mission, exhausting Rhianu with the nagging. It felt easier allowing Aerona to guide her, but it felt dishonest.

  This is right, Rhianu. You’re taking the right steps. The king will place his confidence in you. That was a smart move.

  No, it was deceitful. How can I pretend to stand behind Einion in his need? How can I win his trust and then betray him? I’m not this person!

  Yes, you are!

  Stop it! Leave me alone!

  Rhianu reached the edge of the crowd and dropped onto a bench. She hid her head in her hands.

  Stay the course and seek absolution? Meinwen’s words mocked her, having an effect upon her spirit that she didn’t account for. Did she have a choice? Could she turn from her shaded past? Did she need forgiveness? Thinking of Einion with his stupid, happy, but troubled grin… his smile had coursed through her and imprinted upon her soul. He was innocent. His darkness was but a small thing compared to hers. He doesn’t deserve this.

  It’s not about what he deserves. It is about accomplishing the goal for your master.

  I don’t know this master of whom you speak! Why should I owe him anything?

  If you knew what you were saying…

  Rhianu growled—a warning for Aeron
a. You’re suffocating me. I’ll do this my way. Einion has been nothing but kind to me. I’ll show him my support. I need him as much as he needs me. If and when my memories return, then I shall see what needs to be done. The Dark Master can wait.

  Maybe I should take you back to Morvith. Meuric could set you straight.

  I’m astonished you would suggest that, with the way you are harassing me. Wouldn’t that be disloyalty to the Dark Master—backing out on the mission? Let me handle this for now.

  But I just think—

  Enough! Rhianu rose to her feet and found Aerona edging closer. Go away. Don’t bother me.

  Aerona lifted her head, and threatening smoke puffed out. Have it your way. She spread her wings and flew off into the sky, scattering dancers in her windy wake.

  ***

  At the base of a hill, where spring took longer to usher in under the mountain’s frosty shadow, sprawled Gwenith village—the final stop in Einion’s demanding week. The fields had been plowed, and the crops sown only yesterday. Einion breezed through the blessing, and Rhianu pulled him onto the dance floor.

  The wide planks carefully laid out over the grassy field squelched against the spongy, rain-sodden earth as people traipsed over them in their dance. At least the spring rains would taper off to fall at a less-than-boisterous but satisfactory rate for the rest of the summer. If they were lucky, the villages would escape the occasional late summer drought.

  Einion relaxed. The music filled his ears, and children laughed as they twirled with older siblings or parents under the setting sun. What a wonderful ending to a stressful week. He’d made it! His first official duty was a success. His people didn’t see his shortcomings. He was their king. He could do this.

  I never doubted you, Einion, Trahaearn said.

  Did you have your fill of chicken? You know you can’t be this spoiled and expect your food to be served to you all the time.

  Trahaearn only chuckled. Einion spun Rhianu away from himself, watching her skirts puff out around her, and curled her back into his arms. Rhianu tucked her chin to her chest. She had been shy this week. Maybe something passed between them that he had been too dense to notice because, though Rhianu continued to stand by his side through every blessing, she never touched his hand in the same way.