Seren gasped and covered her mouth with both her hands. She was in Brennon’s room, in his bed, and he was nowhere to be found. Her eyes, huge with shock, darted around the spacious chamber. The curtains still blocked the morning light, and a cheery fire burned in the hearth.
“Oh, gods,” she breathed, feeling suddenly dizzy.
What had happened last night? She remembered coming into the room and using her glamour to help Brenn with his nightmares, but she couldn’t remember anything after that. Had she blacked out? Had she collapsed onto the bed with a half naked Brenn in it? Heat suffused her cheeks, and she thought she felt tears welling up in her eyes. Oh, what a disaster!
Seren fell back onto the pile of pillows, her arms crossed over her face. What must he have thought, finding her in his bed earlier that morning? And now, he was downstairs making breakfast, because she had overextended her magic once again. Seren groaned. She didn’t think she could face him now.
Before Seren could descend deeper into her humiliation, someone knocked softly at the door. She jumped and let out a little yelp. She sat up again, her eyes wide as they darted toward the sound. The muffled voice that greeted her ears took away the edge of her panic, however.
“Seren? Are you awake? Can I come in? Uncle Brenn and I are almost finished making breakfast, and he told me to come see if you were up.”
Seren breathed a sigh of relief, and in a slightly squeaky voice called out, “Yes, I’m awake! You can come in, Rori.”
The boy pushed the door open and aimed a grin in her general direction.
“Good morning! You were still asleep when we got up this morning, and Uncle Brenn wanted to let you rest.”
Seren felt her cheeks go red again and was glad, for once, Rori couldn’t see her expression.
“Thank you,” she managed, pushing the sheets back and climbing out of bed. She met Rori halfway across the room, telling him to go back downstairs, and she would join him and his uncle soon. She couldn’t spend the rest of the day hiding upstairs, no matter how awkward she might now feel in Brennon’s presence.
Before making his way to the staircase, Rori tilted his head and said to her, “Thank you, Seren. Thank you for helping Uncle Brenn with his bad dreams.”
Seren paused in the doorway of her own room and turned to look at him. There was something in his voice, something that stopped her from giving him a simple ‘you’re welcome’ before turning away again. In that moment, Seren pushed aside her embarrassment from the night before and let her curiosity get the better of her.
“Why does he have those dreams, Rori?” she asked softly.
Rori tensed, his unseeing eyes fixed on the wall beside her.
Seren stepped away from the door and came to stand before him, taking his hands in hers.
“You can tell me. I won’t hold it against him, I promise.”
“You were angry with him after the Samhain ritual,” Rori murmured, his voice strained.
Seren drew in a deep breath and let it out in a great sigh. She nodded, although the boy could not see the gesture.
“I know,” she said. “But I was concerned for you. I have had plenty of time to think on it, and now I know, he must have done it for you, even though you were hurt.”
“It didn’t hurt all that much, I promise! And if Uncle Brenn doesn’t perform the blood ritual every year, then–”
Rori stopped himself and caught his lower lip between his teeth.
“It’s okay, Rori. You don’t have to tell me about the Samhain ritual if you don’t want to. But, I would appreciate it if you told me why your uncle has dark magic plaguing him.”
Rori shook his head, tears forming in his blue eyes.
“Alright,” Seren relented, patting him on the shoulder. “It isn’t your secret to tell. I understand.”
She let go of his hands and turned back toward her room.
“It is memories from when he was with the Morrigan,” Rori blurted behind her.
Seren froze, the fine hair on her arms and neck standing on end. She turned a wide-eyed expression back toward the boy.
“What?”
“Uncle Brenn was taken by the Morrigan’s army when he wasn’t that much older than me. I-I don’t know what happened to him, but he’s had the nightmares ever since.”
Seren was too horrified to press the boy any further. No wonder Brennon had been trying to claw himself out of his own skin. Dear gods. The Morrigan. The goddess of war and strife and all things evil in their world. She shuddered now at the images and specters she’d glimpsed racing through Brenn’s mind as her glamour fought to destroy them.
“Please don’t tell Uncle Brenn I told you.”
Rori’s plea brought Seren back to the present, and she glanced down at him once more.
Seren reached out a hand and squeezed his shoulder. “Don’t worry. I won’t. But I’m glad you told me, Rori,” she said. “Now, maybe I’ll be able to help him even more if the nightmares come back.”
Rori’s expression grew rigid, and his mouth formed a grim line. “They’ll come back,” he insisted. “They always do.”
With those final words, the boy turned and felt his way down the stairs. Seren turned as well, heading into her room to get dressed, an entirely new set of questions and troubles weighing on her mind. She forgot her embarrassment and the anxiety of facing Brennon after waking up in his bed. Instead, she felt a wave of fierce determination wash through her. Maybe it was her healer’s glamour detecting a hurting soul in need. Maybe it was those feelings brewing just below the surface, feelings for a man who both frightened and enthralled her, finally breaking through her carefully constructed wall. Perhaps, it was a little bit of both. Either way, she knew whatever misfortune befell this troubled and enigmatic man and the boy who lived in this house, she’d be there to help them through it so long as they let her.
Chapter Seventeen
Truce
Breakfast that morning was civil and quiet, and only slightly uncomfortable. Brenn had turned to greet Seren when she first stepped into the kitchen, his half smile warmer than usual, his grey eyes flashing to silver and back to smoky quartz. Seren’s breath caught in her throat as she remembered her thoughts from earlier and schooled her face, so it wouldn’t show her feelings.
Rori greeted her with a hug, his ear pressed to her heart, and his arms wrapped tightly around her waist.
“Let her breathe, Rori,” his uncle chided, as he offered her a chair.
Once seated, the three of them turned their thoughts inward, each of them commiserating on the disruptive events of the night. Seren, unable to help herself, glanced up at Brenn every now and again, only to find his intense eyes studying her. Each time, she felt the color rise in her cheeks, encouraging her to get back to her oatmeal and tea.
After the meal was finished and the dishes cleaned, Brenn excused Rori to go explore the winter wonderland waiting outside. As soon as he heard the door close behind his nephew, he turned to Seren.
“May I speak with you for a moment?”
The Fahndi woman froze, the color draining from her face. The reaction was short-lived, however. She took a quick breath, smoothed out her skirts and nodded once.
Feeling suddenly restless, Brenn adopted a casual stance next to the kitchen fire. His fingers itched to push their way through Seren’s silky hair, so he shoved his hands in his back pockets to keep them preoccupied. He should not have taken such liberties with her this morning. Before, he had been blissfully ignorant of such things. Now, he knew what he was missing.
“I wanted to thank you for last night. For helping me through the nightmares.”
His voice was low, and he refused to meet her gaze. Seren realized he was just as uneasy about the whole situation as she had been, and that strengthened her resolve.
“You’re welcome. No one should have to feel like a captive of their own mind.”
She tried a smile when he looked up at her, but his returning grin lacked warmth.
; “No,” was his response. “They should not. I hope you won’t have to witness that again. I had hoped you would never see me in such a state.”
Seren stepped forward and brushed her fingers against Brenn’s bicep. He jerked slightly in response, his eyes surprised when they met hers.
Before she could lose her courage, Seren looked him in the eye and said, “I was happy to help, Brennon. I’d never hold what happened last night against you. No one can control the awful things that haunt them in their dreams. You have done so much to help me, it was the least I could do.”
His slight shock at her forward behavior melted away, and he gave her a roguish smile. Suddenly, Seren’s mouth felt parched. She had managed to gather just enough courage to reach out to him, but now it was slipping away once more.
“You keep forgetting. The entire reason you got dragged into this cursed house to begin with is because I shot you, remember?”
He had meant it as a joke, but his casual words set alarm bells off in Seren’s head. She furrowed her brow and frowned, drawing her hand back. “Cursed?”
Brenn shook his head and released a deep breath. “Sorry. Residual nightmares speaking for me.”
Seren tried a smile in return, but something told her Brenn’s words weren’t entirely meant as an off-color joke. There was some truth to them. Not that she was surprised. She would have to get to the bottom of it one of these days. If not through Rori, then maybe some other way. She doubted either Rori or Brenn would ever just tell her, so she would have to pay attention; see if she could figure it all out on her own. Something dark dwelt here, if not in the house, then within Brennon himself. Until she understood what it was, she could not drive it away and heal the wounds it left behind with her glamour.
“How did you do it, by the way?”
Brennon’s quiet question pulled her from her reverie.
She blinked up at him. “What?”
His sharp eyes were probing, suspicious.
“How did you drive my nightmares away?”
Seren, for some reason, hadn’t expected this question. Although, perhaps, she should have. Of course, Brennon would want to know how she’d made the demons disappear. How to tell him without giving away her own secret?
Shrugging, Seren stated, “I used my glamour.”
Brennon leaned back against the wall and crossed his arms, lifting one eyebrow as he scrutinized her.
Obviously, her answer didn’t satisfy him. Taking a tiny step back, Seren did her best not to panic as she fished for an explanation he would believe. In all honesty, there was no rationalization for what she had done, except for the truth. And she could not tell Brenn the truth.
Finally, she said, “I didn’t think it would work, but it did. I simply brought my glamour into my fingertips and sent it into your body. After a while, you calmed down.”
“And you collapsed in exhaustion when it was all over.”
Now, Brennon’s eyes flashed with anger. He pushed away from the wall and moved in close to her. Seren gasped, backing up until she met the opposite wall. Brenn was so close, she could feel the heat pouring off his body, breathe in the scent of wood smoke, leather and hay that always clung to him. He placed his hands on either side of her head and trapped her, his presence intense and intimidating.
Seren’s heart raced, with excitement or fear, she could not tell.
“What you did,” he growled, “was extremely dangerous, Seren. Every Faelorehn child is taught from a very early age not to send their glamour into another person’s body. There was no way to tell how my own glamour might have reacted with yours. You could have killed yourself! Do they not teach you this among the Fahndi?”
Seren had turned her head away from Brenn, letting him vent his frustration on her. Yes, she knew about the dangers of glamour crossing. The Fahndi taught their children this as well. Only those who shared an unquestionable trust between each other were able to do this. But her glamour worked differently than most. Her power also carried with it Fahndi healing magic, but she couldn’t tell Brenn this.
Latching on to her way out of explaining it to him, she said in a breathless voice, “N-No. I was never taught about this danger. I’m sorry, Brennon. I only wanted to help.”
Brenn seemed to lose most of his anger then. The darkness brewing behind his eyes and the heat radiating from his body dissipated. He released a ragged breath and let his forehead fall against the wall above her. Seren held her own breath, trapped inside the cage his arms and torso had created. He shook slightly, as if every muscle in his body fought to remain still. Seren reached out instinctively, her healing power compelling her to touch him. Giving in to the demands of her glamour, she pressed her hand against the skin exposed below his neck. She didn’t land quite on his heart, but close enough. She could feel its erratic beating, sense her magic rising up to calm him. Closing her eyes, she sent up a silent prayer he couldn’t feel her power brewing or else he might grow angry again. Brennon’s chest rose and fell with his deep breaths, Seren’s hand rising and falling with it. Eventually, he moved, pushing away from the wall and lowering his hands to gently remove Seren’s.
He curled his fingers around her own, the coldness she felt in them reminding her of the white world outside.
“Forgive me, Seren. I’m not angry with you. I will be forever grateful for what you’ve done for me, but I would ask you not to risk your safety again.”
He gave a rueful smile, then released her hand, so he could rake his fingers through his dark hair. “Even if the screams from my nightmares bring down the roof. I have suffered through them for many years. I am used to their visits, and they won’t kill me.”
Seren set her jaw, fighting against the tears she felt gathering in her eyes.
“Very well,” she muttered, as she turned to leave the kitchen. “I will respect your request to be careful, but I will not promise to withhold my help in the future. I ask that you respect my decision as well.”
Brenn considered this for a while. He had been so overcome by rage, a rage not entirely of his own making, at the thought of her being so reckless with her glamour, that he’d felt the faeduhn magic stirring again. When she reached out and touched him, however, warmth suffused his blood, chasing away the iciness brought on by the shadows. Her touch alone had brought him back from the brink of madness. He turned his gaze back onto Seren. No longer was the timid doe staring back at him, but a strong, stubborn woman who knew her own heart. For a breathless moment, Brenn wondered if that same heart beat for him the way his had begun to beat for hers. No, Brennon. You cannot allow yourself to venture into such territory. Do not condemn her to your own fate. Shaking such nonsense from his head, he smiled, his eyes softening.
“I believe I have no choice in the matter. I do accept, my lady Seren.”
He reached out a hand to shake on their deal, eager to feel the press of her warm skin against his once again, almost laughing out loud at the notion. Brenn, who had recoiled at the very thought of making physical contact with others, couldn’t wait to press his palm to Seren’s. She accepted his offer and instead of shaking, they simply clasped hands for a few moments, the trade of their sincere expressions enough to let the other know mutual respect had been met.
As Seren turned to head back up into the main entrance hall, she paused in the doorway, eyeing him curiously over her shoulder.
“Does the ritual on Samhain have anything to do with your nightmares?” she asked.
Brennon, who would have bristled at her question had she asked it a few weeks ago, only sighed.
“Yes. But that is all I’m willing to tell you, Seren.”
She nodded once, leaving him alone with his thoughts, whatever they might be.
Chapter Eighteen
Apprentice
On the morning before Winter Solstice, Brennon woke to a world dusted with a thin layer of crystalline white. By the way the frost had gathered along the windowpanes, he knew the chill would linger long into the day. Pulling out
his warmest set of clothes, Brenn dressed quickly before heading downstairs. It was still early, so he didn’t expect to find anyone else awake. He was surprised, however, when he found Rori and Seren huddled together on the floor in front of the great fireplace. Stacked high between them was a mountain of books. Brenn lifted a dark brow at the scene, and Seren smiled. She had been doing a lot of that lately. In fact, her mood had been rather pleasant ever since she’d rescued him from his night of plagued dreams a few weeks ago.
“I nearly have all the letters committed to memory,” the Fahndi woman said, lifting up a primer Brenn and his sister, and later Rori, had learned from. “Rori has been helping me as best he can.”
Now that winter had driven them inside, Seren had doubled her efforts in learning how to read and write. And Rori had proven to be a very effective and enthusiastic teacher.
“We came up with a system,” the small boy stated rather proudly. “I describe what the letter looks like, and then she tells me what she thinks it is and says what sounds it makes. For example,” he began, sitting up straighter and puffing out his chest, “It forms one peak, like a mountain, with a horizontal line through the middle, connecting the two slanted legs.”
Seren ran her finger down the list of letters, giving them all a good look before she stopped on her choice. “A,” she stated. “The first letter listed.”
Rori beamed. “Correct! And what sounds does it make?”
Seren proceeded to demonstrate the various sounds, Rori nodding in approval each time.
For a few moments, Brenn simply stood there, temporarily forgetting why he had come downstairs to begin with. His nephew had changed since Seren came along, and in a very good way. He was smiling and laughing more. Although he couldn’t see the words, he had gone back to his precious books because now he had someone to share them with. Not that he didn’t have that connection with Brenn, but his uncle was usually preoccupied with other tasks and didn’t have the time to read with Rori. A pang of guilt swelled and then subsided within his chest. Perhaps that was more his fault than he was willing to admit. Regardless, he was grateful for the happiness Seren had brought back to the boy.
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