Timnents passed in an agonizing pace, too slow yet too fast.
Pain seeped into every cell of Erynn’s body. Her emotions slipped deep into that yawning chasm, knowing she must make a decision that tore at her heart and soul.
Let him go.
No.
I won’t.
Erynn wrapped her arms around Jaer’s cold, still body, lying against him like when they had slept side by side, willing him well and warm. But Jaer did not just sleep.
He was dying.
His heart beat erratically, his breathing so shallow Erynn wondered if he was already gone. “I can’t. I won’t let you go,” Erynn croaked in a quiet mumble and fought back a new flood of tears.
The door cracked open slowly, and a shaft of amber light slipped across the dark wood floor. “Erynn?” Jaer’s mother entered. “Why don’t you take a break and get something to eat? I’ll sit with Jaer. You can come right back and stay with him as long . . .” she choked back a sob, “as you want.”
Jaer’s body trembled, building to a fierce shudder under Erynn’s grasp. She scrambled upright, holding Jaer’s heaving shoulders. Erynn stared in horror and screamed, “Jaer! Jaer!” Drool foamed at the corner of his mouth. “Nev! Nev come quick!” She laid her palm over his chest, feeling for a heartbeat. Static popped. A soft, radiant blue arced under her hand, shifting to brilliant gold, stretching from her fingertips. The golden glow spread in thin lines racing outward from Jaer’s heart.
A sweet, spicy scent filled the air. High singing voices rang in Erynn’s ears. “Ahfarine. Nafirach. Jaer bhremae sholai.”
Trust. Faith. Jaer chose life.
Erynn gasped at the meaning of the Anim Blath’s words. She stared down at him, smiling, her spirit rising. Luminescent pinpoints of green flashed all around Jaer. The radiance within him thrummed, joining the song of the Anim Blath. His pulse matched the resplendent glow, ebbing only to rise again with each strengthening beat of his heart. The energy in the room swelled and throbbed in a resounding drumbeat.
Nev and Cale rushed into the room, followed by Aven and Tam.
The Anim Blath’s distinctive scent faded.
The overhead lights flipped on, and Erynn squinted from the sudden brightness.
The twinkling points of lights vanished.
Cale lifted Erynn, breaking her connection—her hand over Jaer’s heart.
The thrumming died.
Erynn struggled against Cale’s hold. “No. Let me go. Don’t you see what’s happening? Can’t you hear them?” She kept a grip on Jaer’s hand, feeling warmth return.
Cale held her. He whispered soothing sounds, words of sorrow and compassion Erynn didn’t comprehend.
I don’t understand. Cale doesn’t see or hear them? Are the Anim Blath really here?
His expression bleak, Nev wrenched the drawer open on the nightstand, tugging out a handheld computer that dangled with thin recording bands.
Erynn gripped Jaer’s hand, refusing to let go.
Jaer’s body convulsed. Short ragged wheezes rasped over dry lips. He gasped, choked, and stilled, not breathing. His eyes flew open, pupils dilated. An expression of panic filled his features. He coughed and gagged, muscles in his neck and chest constricting in a fight for air.
His mother ran to his side, holding him, crying, and stroking his pale face, believing this the end. “Jaer. I’m here. I’ve got you,” she crooned. Tears slipped from her cheeks to Jaer’s.
Jaer’s body calmed. He took in a slow, deep breath, and then another, and another. His lids fluttered, wide pupils contracted, focus cleared. “Mom?” he croaked, his voice thick and weak. “Why are you . . . Where am I? What happened?”
Simi sat back, shocked. Eyes wide, she glanced at Nev.
Nev swooped in and did a quick exam, checking heart rate, blood pressure, respirations, and pupil reaction. In a shaking whisper, Nev declared, “He’s back. Jaer is alive.”
Jaer’s mom cried harder . . . and louder. “Shhhh,” she whispered between sobs, stroking his hair. “Don’t talk. You’re going to be okay now. I’m here, my darling boy. I’ve got you.”
Erynn smiled through a rush of fresh tears, released Jaer’s hand, and backed away from the bed. His voice was the most beautiful sound she’d ever heard.
Nev ran the vitals again and ordered tests via computer link with Byan Skye at Glaskra’s Medical Unit.
After a short silence, Skye’s smiling face filled the screen. “I’m running them now, Nev. Give . . . me . . . a . . .” Her smile widened. “It’s clear, all clear. No sign of poison left in his cells, anywhere.” She frowned. “Nev, how is this possible? The antidote was administered too late, by at least a full day, maybe more.” She shook her head. “Jaer shouldn’t be waking up.”
“Doesn’t matter, Skye.” Nev glanced over at Erynn and nodded. “Sometimes things happen for reasons we’ll never know.”
Skye laughed. “I understand. I’ve been around Cale long enough to not ask questions.”
Cale shook his head and grinned broadly. “It’s about time,” he called softly from next to Erynn.
Erynn sensed Cale’s rush of relief. He must have been feeling hers, too. Cale hugged her before letting go.
Skye laughed again. “I’ll talk to you later. I’m sending a transport from Glaskra. We should get Jaer to the Med Unit here where we can keep an eye on him.”
Jaer’s mom stood up and came around to face the screen. “That won’t be necessary. I can take care of my boy now.”
Skye sighed and nodded. “You’ll be there, Nev?”
“I’ll be here.”
“Okay. I’ll send supplies and equipment, everything you need.”
“Thanks, Skye.”
Erynn edged up to Nev and pulled him into a hug. “What happened?”
He grinned down at her. “You’re asking me?”
Erynn dropped her head against his chest. “No.” She chuckled. “I guess not. It doesn’t matter now.” She stared up at him, studying his face.
I only see Nev. Is he back to being fully himself?
Nev tipped his head and frowned in discomfort.
She let go and turned away, not wanting Nev to feel he was being scrutinized.
“Wait.” Erynn stepped back toward the far window and glanced around the room. Her realization of the sudden quiet from outside—no crashing thunder, pelting of rain against the house, or howl of wind—caused Erynn to gaze with wonder out the glass. As if a giant vacuum sucked away the storm, clouds and fog swirled up, evaporating into a clear blue sky. Sunlight glittered like diamonts off wet surfaces left by the rain.
“The storm is over.” Erynn’s gaze shifted to Jaer.
His mother once again fussed, flitting here and there, propping several pillows under him.
Jaer studied Aven and smiled. “Little brother, you’re an Anbas? When? How long . . .” He reached up with a shaking hand to rub closed eyes and then opened them to look at his mother. “I’m a little confused. How long . . .”
Simi fluffed his pillows. “You’ve only been . . . sick a few days. Don’t worry. There’s time for explanations later.”
Erynn ignored the concern tugging at her mind and smiled, stepping to Jaer’s bedside. “Jaer, I . . . I’m so glad you’re better.”
Jaer turned his attention to Erynn and frowned. “Mmmm . . . Thanks. Yes. Well, I’m tired. A little weak.” He shrugged, dark hair spilling over his shoulders. “I’m sorry. I don’t know you.” He glanced quickly around the room. “Should I?” He tipped his head.
The air of happiness and relief rushed from Erynn, replaced by a punch to the gut that nearly dropped her to her knees.
Aven’s brow furrowed and he stepped up to Jaer’s right. “Are you jok—”
Erynn held up her hand, pressing the back of it against Aven’s chest. She spoke quickly, cutting off his question. “I’m a friend. I’ve just come to make sure you and your family are all right.” She retreated a step, and her smile disappeared under tremb
ling lips.
Jaer adjusted his bulk on the bed. He pushed up on one elbow. “Oh, you’re a friend of Jena’s, then.”
Erynn’s attention locked on Jaer, her lips pursed, chest tightening again. She controlled a rush of fear and resentment. After all she and Nev had done and suffered, Jaer didn’t remember her. In a steady tone she said, “No. Aven and I work together.” She took another step back, fighting the impulse to run out the door and into the forest, away from the growing bombardment of emotions.
Jaer stared at her, doubt evident in his features. “You? Work with Aven?” He chuffed, but his frown deepened. “I don’t remember my little brother being all grown up. And an Anbas Warrior.” He grimaced slightly, adjusting once again. “What is your name?”
Aven answered, his voice tight with self-control. “This is Erynn. Erynn Yager. She’s an Interceptor pilot. And good friends with Cale and Leathan.”
“A pilot.” Jaer’s eyes narrowed, closed, and then opened wearily. “But you’re so young.” He paused, gathering strength. “Just a child.” He turned to Aven. “Who’s Cale?”
The air in the room thickened and grew stiflingly hot. Erynn pulled at her collar. “I’m just so glad you’re better.” She spoke between clenched teeth so her voice wouldn’t crack.
Jaer sighed. He settled back onto the pillows and closed his eyes. “Tired.”
Nev shooed everyone from the bedside. “Jaer needs rest.”
“He needs food.” Jaer’s mom rushed from the room. “I’ll start cooking—all his favorites.”
From the bed, Jaer mumbled, “Favorites. Achcear, with red berries and nuts. And kree with lots of ice.” His breathing slowed into an even rhythm, and he slept.
Erynn gasped and turned back. “Those are my . . . my favorites.” She tipped her head, watching Jaer, waiting for him to call to her, and proclaim he remembered.
He didn’t.
His breathing deepened to a steady tempo.
Aven also heard Jaer’s drifting comment. He wrapped an arm around Erynn’s shoulder. “He’ll remember.” He snorted. “He thinks I’m still a kid, not an Anbas. Give him time to catch up.”
Muttered conversations came from beyond the narrow hallway. They sounded happy and celebratory.
“Shan and her posse must have left.” Erynn kept looking back until they turned the corner into the great room. Her emotions fell and rose, only to crash again.
Aven nodded. “They’re gone. By tomorrow, Shan will be on a flight back to her new . . . old . . . other relationship. As soon as Jaer is feeling better, he can sign the separation papers and be rid of her.”
Nev hurried from Jaer’s dark, quiet room. His gaze darted from Aven to Erynn. “Let him heal, Erynn. He’ll remember you. Why wouldn’t he? You’re not exactly easy to forget.”
Erynn attempted a brave smile and failed. She should have felt ecstatic, but just couldn’t get there. “He doesn’t remember,” she whispered. “Anything about me.” She slumped against the wall, allowing the solid barrier to hold her upright. “It’s okay. He’s alive and that’s what matters.”
“Maybe because of the poison—or how close he came to dying.” Nev guided her into the kitchen. “Let’s go outside and talk.” He hurried her through the great room, away from well-meaning thoughts and expressions full of sorrow and pity.
The warm, richly scented space of the kitchen remained empty except for Jaer’s mom, busily preparing a meal fit for an army. She smiled, brushing tears of happiness from her cheek as they passed.
Nev grabbed their jackets, handing Erynn hers, and opened the back door. Sunshine streamed through the trees and across the wide meadows. A fine silver mist rose in lazy twists to fade a meter above the ground. Aleuns had resumed singing, and the chattering of small animals joined their high chirping. Clean, fresh air, still charged with electricity and scented in a way only the aftermath of a storm can produce, swept over Erynn.
“Where is everyone?” Erynn asked in a monotone. Numb, her focus blurred, she continued to stare out at a day washed clean by the storm—their storm—hers and the children’s.
Nev stood behind her, his voice quiet. “Pyrn, Jess, and the other Anbas . . . ummm, helped Shan and her friends leave. I’m sure one or two remained, in hiding, keeping a safe watch over Jaer. They’ll want to spread the news—their Fayn is back.”
Tam and Aven hurried outside.
“Erynn,” Tam whispered. “Jaer will get his memory back. Just give him some time. He’s been through a lot.”
Erynn turned to Tam and smiled weakly. “Thanks, Tam. I hope so. But if he doesn’t . . .” She shrugged. “That’s okay, too. He’s alive. That’s what’s important.”
Leathan came outside followed by Iyan, Naren, Quin, and Wren. Their expressions made it obvious they knew what had just happened.
From across the space between the barn and the house, Cace ran forward, followed by Cale and Aynn. An older man exited the barn in a run, leaving the doors wide open. Erynn recognized the man as Jaer’s father, the similarities between him and his sons unmistakable.
Erynn glanced at Cale. She hadn’t realized he’d left Jaer’s room.
Cace threw his arms around Erynn, his tears hot against the chilled skin of her cheek. “It’ll be okay, Erynn. Jaer’s alive, awake, and he’ll get better. When he does, he’ll remember . . . everything.”
Erynn couldn’t handle anymore. She pulled from Cace and turned away from their pained features. “I need to be alone.” She stepped off the porch, onto the gravel path, and trotted away. She increased her pace, running into the woods, deeper and deeper, not stopping until she couldn’t see the house, the orchard, or the meadows. A rapid, bounding heartbeat pounded in her ears. Lungs burned from the icy air, her breathing ragged and quick. “They’re correct.” She panted. “Jaer just needs time. But what if he never remembers me?” She straightened and drew in a deep breath and held it, trying to calm racing thoughts. A shaft of sunlight broke through the needle leaves above creating a lacy pattern of shadows at her feet. “He fell in love with me once. Can he fall in love with me again?”
Erynn dropped onto the dense pack of the forest floor. Propped against a thick trunk, she let her mind stray, mostly through the memories of her short span of days with Jaer. She savored every moment.
Wind sang a changing melody in the treetops, a message of encouragement and consolation from Arranon.
Time slipped onward. Transports crunched across the gravel roadbed in the distance, leaving the house.
“Leathan and the children heading back to Glaskra,” Erynn murmured. “I should have thanked them. They took a risk to help me, and I just ran away.” A pang of guilt and self-pity washed over her. She spoke to the trees, to the wind, to the singing aleuns and small chattering animals, “Well, am I being childish?” Tears brimmed, blurring the forest.
Thoughts floated, leading her back through a kaleidoscope of images—her dad and a childhood he’d made sure was filled with love and was never less wonderful because of her secret. He’d wanted and protected her from the very beginning.
The sun drifted slowly across the sky toward the horizon. Color faded from the woods. The chirping and chattering quieted.
Erynn stared through the tangle of limbs above into the dying gold light in the treetops. “Cale, Aven, and Nev, everyone at the house, they’re probably concerned about me. But I can’t go back. Not yet.” Her whispered breath plumed in front of her, billowed, and disappeared.
The sky turned an orange red, slipped to a deep purple, and then darkened to an icy blue black. Stars winked among breaks in the forest canopy.
From the trees on the left, Aven appeared, his approach tentative. “Mom’s worried. You out here, in the woods, all alone, in the dark.” He chuckled. “I told her she didn’t need to be concerned. Nothing out here would hurt you. But Mom wants you to come in. She’s fixed a huge meal, a celebration—” Aven winced. “Sorry.”
“No, Aven.” Erynn glanced up. “You have every
reason to celebrate.”
He squatted down next to her. “Jaer thinks he offended you when he said you were a child and teased you about being a pilot.”
“Hmmm.” Erynn tossed a crushed leaf from her hand.
Aven took in a breath and stared up at the darkness. “Jaer told me once what he loved about you—your strength, your courage, and your stubborn, never-back-down attitude.” He stood up, saying nothing more, and walked away.
Erynn returned as everyone was sitting down at the massive family table in the dining room.
Nev sat next to Cace, with Aynn on his right. Obviously delighted, Nev couldn’t stop smiling, causing lines to deepen around his silver-blue eyes. He glanced up when Erynn entered the room, and his smile faded.
Jaer’s father jumped from his seat at the head of the table, coming toward her, his arms open. A behr of a man, he nearly crushed Erynn when he hugged her. “Thank you,” he kept whispering against the top of her head.
Erynn stepped back, not able to look in his eyes. “I didn’t do anything.”
“Erynn. Here.” Aven indicated a seat next to him and Tam.
Erynn sat down, watching Nev.
“Simi wants us all to stay.” Nev gestured to Jaer’s mother at the other end of the table, sitting next to her cheille. “Leathan already left with the children.” A slight smile returned to his lips. “Leathan felt this was not the time for too many guests. They’ve been invited back, along with the Anbas, for a celebration in a few days—once Jaer is stronger.”
Erynn nodded and glanced at Simi. “Thank you for your kindness.” She wondered which warriors were already here, assigned to the protection detail around Jaer. She smiled weakly with no amusement. No one would know they’re even here.
Cale sat down next to her and took her hand beneath the table, squeezing her fingers before releasing his grasp.
Storm of Arranon Allies and Enemies Page 26