by Karey Brown
But, no amount of magicks, powders, foods, nor teas returned the lass’s wild humor, her infectious laughter long silenced now. Even her biting words were sorely missed. He would tear down Hell, demand Hades return Dezenial, if the power could be his to accomplish such a feat. He’d even swallowed ancient pride and begged help from his oldest nemesis, Pendaran. The druid had looked towards a far off camp his father still kept within the forest beyond Broc’s lower bailey. Rage, sadness and defeat marched across Pendaran’s face. “Do not ask of me, Outlander, that which I’ve been forbidden.”
Broc and his men were muted with shock when the powerful druid clasped Broc’s shoulder as comrade, before vanishing from their presence. Xyn had stared at the immortal Forest Lord for a long time before he too vanished, none having realized he’d warmed himself by Broc’s fire, in the great hall, overhearing his plea to save Emily.
He was a bastard when Aurelia lived, and he was a bastard now with Emily. One day, regardless Xyn’s powers, Broc would find a way to make the ancient one feel the consequences of his cold indifference. In the meantime, the only thing he could do was remain vigilant, occasionally guiding Emily from the dark of despair. And proudly be a father to her children.
Her light faded, and they all knew it was only a matter of time before she would find a way to Hades.
“Xyn wishes to speak privately with you. I’ve offered a much under-used solar, but he says his words are to be spoken far from here.”
She nodded. “I shouldn’t be long. There is nothing he could say to me that I truly want to hear. Still,” she smiled at him. “There’s a measure of respect to pay, aye?” She swiped wayward strands of her hair from her face. “When I return, I’ll come to the hall. The children love Colin’s cello.”
“Perhaps we’ll hear a full song before Kendara decides it tastes better than it plays.”
They shared grins over the antics of their temperamental daughter. “My daughter.” He shook his head. “Honored and still in awe.”
“You make a fine father. Don’t wait on my account. I’m sure everyone is anxious to dance, laugh and enjoy.”
Broc nodded. At least she would be out of this wretched cold she seemed to savor more and more of late. He watched as her pale, tapered fingers lifted her hood, ermine flaked delicately with snow. The pale fur was a sharp contrast against her death-white face. She offered a quick smile before one solid clap of her hands.
She vanished.
As did her shadow protector, the air shifting slightly when Vaide vacated the tower. Gentleness vanished from Broc’s face, replaced with fury. Fearless, he unsheathed his sword.
“Unless ye’ bring Dezenial, be gone, Hades. She’ll no’ be jumping into yer’ arms on my watch! Twice, ye’ve tempted her. God or no’, I’ll come down into yer’ realm and cut ye’ down, ye’ try again!”
Broc remained on the terrace, making sure heavy mists of Otherworld retreated, mocking laughter infuriating him further.
* * * * *
“We observe. It is not for us to interfere with your world, or any we have resided upon.”
“I’m aware of your watching, of your sitting on the sidelines. Shall I fetch you popcorn, or will the act of lifting your own arm to snack also prove too taxing for you?” She hoped for ire, but was granted none. Stone and withered. Must be nice to remain aloof, feeling nothing. She almost envied him. “So, when doomsday arrives, you simply choose the most worthy, and whisk them away.” Ridiculous. “What, on your spaceship?” Then again, with all she’d seen, would a UFO really surprise her these days? Highly unlikely.
“We do not transport utilizing any form of machinery.” He scratched his grizzled chin. “Barbaric. To your other observation, there is no such thing as most worthy.”
“Well, Noah, how do you decide?”
Xyn scowled. “Those answers will be part of an infinite wisdom settling upon you when the time comes.” Regally, he sat upon the fallen tree.
Infinite wisdom? Maeve said they were referred to as Elders; claimed they’d been here since before civilization. Theories her world had long suspected were realities to Clan MacLarrin. Maeve had warned her about a great many things, recently, her topic had been crop circles. “Why is everyone so afraid to speak of the crop circles? I’ve wanted to see them—“
“Never! Forgive me.” He pulled his long robes tighter around himself and relaxed.
“As Lumynari hunt you to control and manipulate—“
“So too does something hunt you for the same reasons.”
“Precisely. Those crop circles are insignias declaring which hunting party presently resides amongst you humans, while searching for us.”
Unpolluted by city pandemonium she hoped to never suffer again, sounds of nature lulled them both into a long silence. No car horns, no shouting, no city odors. The whispers upon the air were a balm to her senses. How sad for modern man, that he failed to realize how suffocating his cities truly were. She could actually hear Lord Winter breathing, apparently suffering ague. She never wanted to leave this realm again.
“Tell me how you fare. Tell me why you clasp to your grief.”
Was it really his concern? He who had watched and done nothing to save . . . she looked away. Would anyone have been able to save Dezenial? The javelin pierced her beloved clean through, pinning him to the snow. How he’d remained coherent long enough to speak words to her . . . she bowed her head, eyes leaking again. How had a god died from—Shadow. The bitch had killed her own son. Hold me forever in your memory, Keer’dra . . . what she’d give just to hear his heavily accented voice, its deep gentleness simultaneously warming and breaking her.
“Emily?”
“It’s likened to swimming in a cold ocean. The shore’s not far. Finally, finally this is almost over and I’ll walk upon warm sands again. But, before I can thank gods and saints, a riptide yanks me under, plunging me so deep, I can no longer tell where sunlight is. Or even if it continues to exist. Then, I surface. For what? I’m now so far from the precious stretch of sand, I wonder what’s the point of resuming my swim towards it.”
“You have described exactly how it was when I lost Pendaran’s mother.”
“Pendaran had a mother?”
Xyn laughed outright. “You thought perhaps I created him?”
“We all need our distractions.”
Feathers ruffled far above them. Emily secretly smiled, Cianna forever watching over her.
“His mother was filled with such joy, I wondered how any one human could not burst within. Her aura was blinding.”
“Human?”
Xyn paused drawing in the sand with his long stick and scrutinized her. “Somewhat.”
“Why aren’t there females of your kind?” Always, they watched her. Most especially when she practiced sword fighting against her father. Broc had begged her not to continue training anywhere near his men. They’d thought father and daughter were going to main each other, their attacks beyond violent. And then, she’d begun battling her father’s garrison—no’ one at a time, Broc had bellowed after polishing off two bottles of scotch—but with thirteen Daemon Elites rushing her. Emily had teased that his hair would become shock white if he didn’t high himself off to his library until she was finished. For all the good it did. How many times had she spied him glowering from his windows?
“Your world refers to it as genocide. We are the last. Branded outlaw, we’re hunted.”
“You wished to speak privately. You must know Sister Wind will carry your words back to Aunsgar. She loves gossip, and I suspect, she loves Aunsgar. She tells him everything.”
Xyn smiled. “He’s aware of what we will discuss.”
So too, did she. “Why the necessity of a Keeper if you’re so powerful?”
“Should we be found, Lady Emily, we have taken oath to expire.”
She began to pace. “I could stress over what you’re implying, but I’ve no feelings left. Why don’t you save me, and just tell me in plain English.”
He hesitated.
Pendaran almost laughed. Almost. He didn’t know which amused him more, that Emily thought he was Cianna or that his sire was actually at a loss for words. The druid hunkered down upon the branch, high above, and kept still. His father’s temper, and the errands evoked requiring centuries to fulfill were hardly child’s play. Pendaran settled for smirking as best as a falcon could smirk, keeping his father’s wrath at bay.
“You, and those you will one day choose, will continue in our stead. You would transport, adapt, and begin anew. When those you’ve saved, by taking them to a new world, begin to grow independent, their belief in magicks and natural powers waning until they believe them to be evil, you’ll step away allowing them whatever destiny they choose for themselves.”
“The world could end tomorrow—ten thousand years from now.”
He nodded.
“But, I’m the Keeper?”
Another nod.
She stared at his unshaven face. Elderly. A ruse. She’s seen his lithe form when he’d swept his robes away. Strange clothing that clung to him, acting as body armor without the bulk, and exposing the muscular definition of a man in his twenties. Aye, the robes weren’t the only thing about Xyn hiding secrets.
Sister Wind and Emily arrived at the same conclusion together. Emily’s hair suddenly stilled, Sister Wind holding her breath. “Are you offering me immortality?”
Xyn remained silent.
Well, isn’t he just a real thinker? Emily tossed her lunar white hair, jutting her chin in defiance. I’ve better things to do than play Twenty Questions with the prig who didn’t bother even trying to save Dezenial. Above, the bird fluttered. Emily searched, but failed to find the beast. Too dark. I promised Broc I’d join them for music. Conversations with Xyn are, as usual, a wasted effort.
Xyn watched the proud young woman. Already so regal in her bearing, passionate about her beliefs. And a temper to behold. Smile tugged, but he refused to relent. He could see why Dezenial had made his sacrifice. Pendaran’s mother had been as fiery as this one. Sadness skittered and was gone before the woman could think to ask. In another life, she’d been his daughter, more like him . . . too much like him. If Zaiyne had inherited more of her mother’s fire, possibly, she would have survived Forest Lords poisoning her and presenting her as sacrifice to Shadow. Instead, Pendaran’s sister had been too trusting.
“I’m already immortal. Forever, I exist for my children first.”
“I have a certain fondness for mine as well.”
“Yours takes more than fondness. You should still practice the right to beat him.”
Sister Wind gasped, Emily’s hair lifting wildly. Xyn laughed, watching Emily bat her invisible sibling away, and holding her hair in a makeshift band.
“A millennia of lives. A millennia of them to remember my loss,” she whispered to him, lip quivering before she regained composure.
It had been a long, long time since Xyn had found himself riveted. It was likened to being punched in the stomach, again and again. He wondered Emily’s reaction, should he fall to the ground, writhing.
“You have been crowned with the fortune of two loves—“
Visually, she impaled him.
“I see. Forgive me.” He bowed his head slightly. “In my viewing, always a mate finds another. I’d not realized the depth of your bonding with Dezenial.” He tapped his stick on the icy ground, lost in thought. He’d not comprehended the magnitude of the sacrifice he’d forced upon the Lumynari warrior.
The bearer of that weapon wasn’t even part of the battle, but conjured by Xyn to force into motion—
“Do I drink something, or chant nonsensical words?”
Xyn lost his smile. And his musings.
She was accepting. Like Aurelia, she placed herself last, all others coming first. A new emotion gripped him. He analyzed its influence upon his senses. “No. All is as it should be.” Interesting. This feeling engulfing him made it difficult to look into her eyes. She watched him as if his soul were visible. He pulled his cloak tighter. Was this how he made others feel? Exposed?
“And had I declined?
His tongue stuck. He could only nod as if senile.
“Xyn?”
He concentrated. Finally, words formulated and became vocal. “You would have slipped quietly from this realm in the winter of your eight-second winter. A smile, they would have found upon your face. You would have given your good wishes that your great grandchildren sleep well, before retiring for the night, and passing as you slept. Your immortality would have ended with an incantation none realized you knew. Your children gown, their own families occupying their time, your duties, in your mind, would have been complete.”
Emily gulped air, unaware she’d been holding her breath.
“I cannot see into the realms containing your dead, nor can I see into the world beneath us. I had not realized just whom Aurelia had chosen to sire her.” He chuckled. It lacked any real joy. “I do not think she truly realized the depth of her decision.”
“Will I now have knowledge of these strange powers? And how do I get rid of Pendaran? I’m not over his deceit.”
“To him, you will always be his little sister.”
Emily graced him with a steely look.
He held up his hand, warding off her crossness. “Four millennia ago, you were Zaiyne—my daughter.”
“Ah. Puzzles click into place. ‘Tis why I’m forever The Keeper. Joy. And your hatred of Dezenial.”
“Not hatred. Not any longer. I misunderstood a great many things. And . . . I was a selfish old man thinking I knew more than everyone else.”
“I’m almost tempted to pick my jaw up off the ground.”
“You can pick mine up as well.”
They shared a smile.
“In this life, I wish for you to experience normality.”
“Apparently you missed the fifteen-hundred pound, two-headed canine under the impression he’s a lap dog, the children’s loveseat, and the thief of my Oreo Double Stuff cookies. I’m surrounded by Forest Lords, that my realm labeled as Picts, and I reside in a realm my world doesn’t realize exists. What have I left out? Ah, a Celt, a priest having survived the Crusades,” she paused, her eyes springing tears. “And I take nourishment from a Daemon Elite.” She couldn’t voice the rest of it, however, that Vaide was probably going to be the only way she’d be able to be any kind of mother to her babies. How much longer did any of her precious motley protectors deserve to endure her profound grief?
He’d read her thoughts. As easily as if she’d said them aloud. The thing squeezing him tightened its hold. He did not like it. Not in the least!
“I’ve lost my soul to a species defying all realism, Xyn. Shall we discuss the gold band on my arm?”
His gaze dropped down to where she indicated. He frowned, perplexed.
“It’s actually a guardian Daemon, a ferocious bugger who protects me when death is paramount. I weapons train with, not only an Elf prince, but a bevy of Elf warriors, oh, and please, let us not forget my daughter’s eyes now glow like little white moons just before she screams bloody-fucking-murder.”
Xyn flinched.
Pendaran flounced, lost his balance and flew haphazardly to a new branch. Twigs rained down. Emily scowled up into the trees. Xyn merely cleared his snow white hair of the debris. Another thing that perplexed her—his hair, following the battle, had turned white.
“Ah, you have heard Kendara’s wails?”
“Princess Emily, several realms have heard that child.”
Emily had the good grace to laugh. “Aedan now sleeps in the nursery. He seems to own a power that soothes the tiny she-devil.”
“I will reward him duly.”
If a falcon could scoff, Pendaran would have done just that.
“We stole youth from Aurelia.”
“It was a different time. Even in my realm, history tells how kids had to grow up much more quickly than modern times.”
“Thank you for the kindness, but we were negligent in her care. As we’ve been with yours. Worried about ourselves, and the power you will hold, we thought of nothing else but protecting that power—no matter the cost. I have grievously erred.”
“Your admission is not an easy one for you. Don’t ask me how I know this.” Emily studied him for some time. “There’s something you are not telling me.”