The hiss of the Dokkalfar quieted. The rumbling beneath our feet stilled.
I stumbled, and Gavin pulled me to his chest. My heart lurched, finding an odd rhythm as if it had forgotten how to beat. I looked down, my vision swam. The crack in the silver shell had fused together, extending, covering the festering wound that had frothed minutes ago.
“Gavin,” my voice no more than a husky whisper brushed across his face as we leaned on each other. “We did it.”
He looked over the solid silver now sheeting the lake. “Yes, we did.”
He weakly smiled, but as his eyes found mine, his concern lashed through me. “My light?”
Grainy black dots swam on the fringes of my vision. Gavin’s hand felt strangely cold. I locked my knees, forcing my body to remain standing. “I’m sure I’m just—”
My stomach muscles seized, and I bent forward, gasping for air. Before I could recover, pain sliced through, my knees buckled, and I fell to the ground.
The silver warmed beneath my palm, and one last surge of energy pulsed through. As liquid warmth seeped down my inner thighs, I watched the silver shell turn to pearl.
Helpless, I collapsed, and tears fell across my cheeks as the Urisk’s prophecy floated through my mind.
Our Light will ... surrender all that is within and is to come. For only in that which she willingly gives, will the hopes of Creation be redeemed.
“No ... no, no, no, no...” Gavin’s plea rang in the distance as the darkness that fringed my vision swept forward and all went black.
Chapter 36
Belief
Soft lips kissed my forehead as we jolted forward. “We’re almost to the edge. Please, love, stay with me.”
Somehow I managed to open my eyes. Sun broke through the heavy clouds, its bright rays streaming over the pearl encased abyss. Normally, the black lake absorbed light, casting the land in shades of gray. But now, the luminous pearl served as a catalyst, its radiant sheen exuding power. Even in the overcast sunshine, the Dokkalfar closest to the bank had already disintegrated to ash. I nestled close, finding Gavin’s scent, desperately hoping the babies were all right.
We’d already been through so much. Surely fate wouldn’t be that cruel.
Gavin slowed as he neared the black sand. His breath became labored, and I followed his gaze.
A few hundred yards away Tark knelt beside Rena, his palms stemming the blood flowing from her chest.
My breath hitched as I looked at her battered face. “Please tell me she’s all right.”
Gavin turned away, rushing toward the cave. “Tark’s using the energy of the pearl to help her heal. He says he’ll meet us in the mountain as soon as she’s able to move.”
My voice thickened with tears. “And what about Elias and Elaine?”
Gavin hesitated. “No one’s heard from them.”
I closed my eyes as my mind raced. What if they were one of the fallen warriors laying on the ground? I glanced back. And what about Reen? I couldn’t handle it if she died.
Hot pain streamed across my abdomen, and Gavin picked up speed.
“Nora, please. Quiet your mind. We must take care of you first, and then we’ll worry about the others.”
Thunder rolled, the clouds finally giving way, creating a gentle rain. We passed the platform, and I closed my eyes, not wanting to see the hundreds of lifeless warriors scattered on the bank. My chin quivered, and I faced Gavin’s chest. So much lost ... so much yet to lose.
“Please, don’t think like that.” Gavin’s voice broke. “We haven’t lost anything yet.”
The rain-slicked ground slowed our pace, but Gavin managed to get us to the mountain’s hidden entrance. We crossed the threshold, and I took in the energy’s heady, sweet smell.
“You’re back in the mountain. Everything will be all right now.” Gavin’s desperation ran through me as he gently set me down and started rooting through packs left by Elias and Elaine.
My torso cramped, the muscles clamping down, and I whimpered. Gavin’s panic threaded through as he gathered anything he could find to create a makeshift pallet.
Help me ... my mind cried out, urgently calling for the mountain’s power. Blue light streaked in the distance, growing brighter, followed by the comforting sounds of the energy’s familiar drone.
Power rushed through, flooding the cave, swathing us in soft, blue light. Gavin picked me up as its familiar hum filled the air. I rested my head on his shoulder, praying that the babes within me hadn’t already died.
Gavin fell to his knees, gently laying me on the soft blankets. His hands shook as he dipped them under my shirt and placed them directly on my stomach. The muscles eased; the pain receded.
Closing his eyes, concentrating, his palms circled my torso. Gavin frowned, circling, then stopping, then circling again.
“What’s wrong?” I shivered.
“We have to get you out of these,” Gavin muttered, grabbing an extra shirt and pants from Elaine’s pack. He peeled the tattered clothes from my body, and soon I was covered in warm, soft cotton. Rummaging around and finding something for himself, he quickly changed and pulled me on his lap.
I wrapped my arms around him, my mind praying, pleading over and over for something ... anything that would help.
Rain pelted against the cave’s entrance, the drops so heavy I could hear them over the energy’s drone.
My muscles tightened, pain lashed down my legs. Gavin’s palm covered my torso, and the pain receded.
“It’ll be all right,” Gavin whispered, kissing my cheek. “We’ll get through this.”
I swallowed, finally asking the question I feared the most.
“Are we losing them?”
Gavin cradled my head to his chest. “I don’t know.”
A shadow crossed the cavern’s entrance as Tark carried Rena into the cave. Her face, still swollen and purple, didn’t seem to have healed much, but blood no longer streamed from her wound.
I held out my hand. “Rena ...”
She weakly smiled. “Please don’t worry, my lady. I’ll be right as rain in a day or two.”
I grimaced as pain ran down my body. Gavin’s breath hitched as he rested his chin on the top of my head.
“My lady?” Rena shuffled forward.
I turned away, fearing the worst as the pain lashed again.
“Leave us,” Gavin rumbled.
“Please,” Rena stepped closer. “I want to stay.”
“You helped her survive. There’s nothing more you can do.”
Rena’s voice grew desperate. “Let me try. I’ll be stronger in a while, and maybe between the two of us we can—”
“No.” Gavin gently shifted me to the pile of soft bedding. “Tark, take Rena home. She need not witness this.”
Tears fell down my cheeks. This couldn’t be happening. Not after everything we’d gone through. Grief-stricken and helpless, I curled my back and rolled to my side. My mind raced with thoughts to horrible to utter. Guilt smothered me. What had I done? If we lost them, it would be my fault.
I sobbed. Rena crouched in front of me, her jasper brown eyes endless pools of sorrow. She brushed my hair from my face.
“I’m so sorry, my lady.” Her voice broke, and Tark helped her up and took her away.
Gavin lay next to me, pulling me to him. He rubbed my side, listening to all seven streams of thought, full of shame and regret.
“My Light,” he whispered, “you must quiet your mind.”
I struggled, but panic and guilt took hold.
“Nora.” Gavin grabbed my upper arms, his voice low, intense. “Quiet your mind and give into hope. We haven’t lost them yet. You must have faith.”
I closed my eyes as those words washed over me. Forcing my thoughts to focus on memories, words shifted to images of childhood, of Siana, of the silver feathered Urisks, of laughter and hope and home.
Gavin’s relief flooded through me as he kissed my forehead. “That’s it, my Light. These are the
memories that hold strength. That’s what we need.”
Heat tingled through as his emotions surged. Gavin sat up and lifted my top, yanking Ester’s camisole up around my neck. His palms illumined, the energy so intense it circled us in a halo of light. He placed them on my rounded belly as he spoke the Ancient Language. His hands caressed my abdomen, circling over and over again, his eyes staying closed in concentration.
The pain eased, and I took a deep breath and slowly let it out. Relief. Gavin’s palms grew brighter, and I wove my fingers through his hair, the gentleness of my touch adding to the energy cycling through. With each breath, we grew stronger. My heart calmed as faith took hold. Positive thoughts added to the images. Numerous conversations with Rena—dreams of one day raising our families in peace.
Gavin’s hand stopped on either side of my stomach. His emotions stilled to an uneasy calm.
“Gavin?”
Warmth flooded through me, and Gavin exhaled, finally raising his head. The gold speck in his eyes swam through liquid emerald.
“Their energy is cycling back. The twins are weak, but they’re still alive.”
A sob broke from my throat, and I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him close.
Gavin shifted, lying next to me.
The rain continued throughout the day and into the night. Neither of us strong enough to think about the trek back home, Gavin and I were content to be together. The evening brought tough memories, as I shared with him the story of the Lost, Siana, and Ester. Gavin kept his emotions clamped tightly down as I told him about Queen Lera and how she died. The clouds drifted, leaving a patch of clear, night sky. Amethyst moonlight shone over the land, its vibrant color playing off the pearl that covered the abyss. The rain had washed the ash from the trees, and purple light gleamed off the petrified cedars, making them look as if they were made of glass.
Gavin kissed my head. “The centaur’s land is finally at peace.”
I took a deep, shaky breath. “Do you think it will hold?”
“After all we’ve been through, I hope so.”
I finally brought up the subject I’d been avoiding all day. “Did you do it ...” I hesitated, almost afraid to ask. “Did you give Mia a chance to be forgiven?”
Gavin’s anguish ran through my heart, and I held my breath.
“It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but yes. Right before I stabbed her I told her she had one chance. She turned it down.”
His emotions darkened, and he quickly got them under control.
“I never want to talk about it again.” Gavin closed his eyes, his hold tightened a bit. “I’m going to focus on what I have, right here in my arms.”
Something shuffled in a smaller corridor, just past the running stream. Gavin jumped up, his emotions drifted to nothing as a hollow ache formed in my chest.
Two figures, blackened in Dokkalfar blood, shuffled into the cavern, the taller one leaning heavily on the smaller.
“Elaine?”
Gavin hurried over to help. “I’ve been calling for you all afternoon. What happened?”
Elias shifted his weight to Gavin’s shoulders, and Elaine stood with a groan.
“Elias was wounded. There were too many Dokkalfar, and we knew we wouldn’t last long if we stayed. We fled to the secret tunnel in the Petrified Forest. It’s taken all day to gather enough strength to make it this far.”
Gavin eased Elias down on the stone floor, and Elaine turned to me. She blanched as her eyes met mine. “And what of you? Are you well, my Queen?”
I smiled. “I am now.”
Gavin’s eyes blanked, and Elias visibly sagged, relieved.
Elaine dropped the pack from her shoulder and took out a familiar blanket and cloak. “You left these in the tunnel. What happened?”
I filled them in, making sure Elias knew I was solely responsible for Rena disobeying his orders.
He smiled. “I’m sure you were. Rena is no longer in the guard, and so it’s officially up to the King to decide her fate.”
Relieved Elias wasn’t angry with Rena, I relaxed and let Gavin carry the rest of the conversation.
Elias and Gavin agreed that we would start out first thing in the morning, and I sent energy to a small cavern down the way to help speed their healing. Elaine thanked me before they headed through the tunnel.
IT TOOK A FEW DAYS for Gavin, Elias, and Elaine to recover. I, however, was still weak as a kitten, as Rune would say. Even though I hadn’t felt so much as a twinge, Gavin insisted that we take it slow. When my mind so much as hinted I was tired, Gavin and Elias would take turns carrying me as we made our way home.
We passed the stalactites and headed toward the familiar hum of the energy field.
“My lady, I’m so glad you’re back!” Rena ran towards me, and Gavin let me down long enough for her to wrap me in a hug. “You scared the jebeebers out of me.”
“It’s bejeebers,” I smiled.
Rena shook her head and hugged me again. Bending down, she placed her hands on my stomach, her eyes sparkled with unshed tears. “They really are all right?”
“Yes. We’re all fine.”
She spoke to my stomach. “Hello, little ones. Your mother and I have so much to teach you. We’ll start with painting in straight, clean lines and then move—”
One of Gavin’s arm wrapped around my waist while the other dipped to the bend of my knees. He picked me up, causing Rena’s hands to fall away.
“I promise you can school our children in the finer points of art after they’re born, but right now my light needs a hot meal, a bath, and then sleep.” Gavin’s emerald eyes sparkled as he smiled. “But not necessarily in that order.”
Rena’s laughter rang the walls blue.
We said our goodbyes and headed down the corridor that led to our chambers.
Gavin kissed me. “Your days of running through the mountain are over. At least for a while.”
I ran my fingers through his hair. “That’s more than fine with me.”
Chapter 37
Reclamation
Sunshine blazed through an open archway, and I smiled as the breeze tickled my hair. Gavin shifted me in his arms as he carried me across the royal crest, which was inlaid in the marble floor.
He walked toward the threshold. A three-tiered balcony jutted over the courtyard. Trees cascaded down the mountain’s side, making it seem as if the structure floated on a green cloud. Rena, Tark, Elias, and Elaine stood in front of their chairs. Their white tunics and purple sashes announced to the kingdom that they were no longer in the guard but were the trusted advisors to the King. The second tier held two smaller thrones, symbolizing the hope for the future. Two ornate thrones sat in the center of the lowest level, overlooking the Kingdom.
I put my hand on my distended belly, feeling little feet and elbows move.
Gavin chuckled, kissing my forehead. “They’re active today.”
I leaned my head against his shoulder. “I think they’re excited to finally be outside.”
We’d been back in the kingdom for almost six months now. That first month Gavin never left our suite. As soon as Elias and Elaine had recovered, Gavin had a brief meeting with the Keepers and made a switch in the council. He ordered Rena and Tark in charge of rebuilding the land. Elias had taken over reorganizing the guard while Elaine dealt with the burden of consoling a grief-stricken kingdom.
No one spoke of what happened the day the abyss was sealed, and Gavin refused to discuss it. Instead, he insisted we focus on the bright future that lay ahead.
I had a sneaky suspicion that he’d ordered the kingdom to do the same because the land seemed to be recovering at an incredible rate.
Gavin stepped through the threshold and onto the balcony’s top tier. The crowded courtyard cheered as soon as they noticed we were there.
“I could have walked, you know,” I whispered.
“You’re on complete bed rest. That includes walking and standing.”
It h
ad taken several days of coaxing, but Elaine had finally convinced Gavin the kingdom needed closure. And that included seeing for themselves that I was healthy. I tipped my head toward the sun, soaking in its warm rays. A breeze brushed across my face, its sweet, clean scent combined with the distant lilting birds, and I smiled. “It’s good to be home.”
Gavin’s arms tightened around me, burying his nose in my hair and taking in my scent. I placed my hand on his cheek, and his eyes found mine. Golden flecks dipped and swirled as his eyes became liquid pools of green. Utter devotion rushed through, warming me.
Gavin kissed the end of my nose. “Yes, it’s good to be home.”
Elias cleared his throat. Gavin’s eyes blanked, and he smiled.
The Keepers bowed as he stepped forward, making his way down to the front tier. I placed my head on his shoulder, remembering that the last time we were here, we mourned the loss of Malachi.
Gavin had yet to grieve for his mother, and I doubted he would allow himself that luxury until these babies were born.
“Don’t think of it, my Light.” Gavin placed me on my seat, his large hand palming my stomach. “Concentrate your energy on keeping the future strong.”
I sighed. If he’d said that once, he’d said it a thousand times.
He kissed my forehead and then stood to look over the crowd.
Kinsmen had filled the courtyard below, their dress muted in soft tones of creams, lavender, and grays.
My heart ached at how the crowd had thinned since the last time the kingdom met as a whole. We’d lost so many. The guard was no more than a half of what they used to be. Hopefully, with the land growing stronger, the Alfar population would be on the rise.
Gavin’s voice rang over the courtyard, pulling my thoughts back to him. He spoke openly, frankly about the situation on Earth and how much rebuilding needed to be done in Kailmeyra.
Most of the kinsmen kept their heads down, few daring to glance up, and I frowned.
It was a shame, really, that the Alfar didn’t have a Khiton. One of the most significant challenges Kailmeyra faced was that the culture was so introverted they rarely developed true connections outside their immediate family. The Khiton ceremony forced me to see that all experiences, the good and the bad, help shape who we are—for it was those very experiences that forged our strength and honed our lives.
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