“Enough!” Rowan bellowed. The room shook like an earthquake. “Either you stop this or I will stop it for you,” Rowan threatened.
Corbin and Malcolm were breathing hard, still glaring at each other. Mara walked out from behind Rowan and put a gentle hand on Corbin’s arm. “Enough,” she whispered. She could feel Malcolm’s piercing eyes on her now, leering with a defeated sneer on his face. “I suppose not then” he hissed.
He looked from Rowan and back to Mara before throwing up his hands and storming out of the room.
“I should kill that fucking bastard!” Malcolm fumed as he stormed past Annora and Isa in the chamber hall. They cowered as he thundered by. Malcolm slammed the door to his room. He was livid, his hands shook and his head throbbed. What was Rowan thinking, allowing humans into their lives? And who was Corbin to speak to him like that? He was clearly beginning to think of himself as an equal instead of the bastard halfling that he is.
Malcolm couldn’t believe Rowan would allow Corbin to behave that way. He felt utterly betrayed. Malcolm stormed up to the table by his bedside and shoved the ceramic wash basin to the floor. It crashed and shattered into pieces around the room. Malcolm took deep breaths, trying to exhale his rage, and walked over to the reflective glass that hung on his wall. The fierce expression that stared back at him was frightening, but he liked it. Long gone were the impish features of boyhood. Now he was a man, a vicious-looking creature with immeasurable power. He brushed his white-blond hair from his face and examined his lighted eyes. He took several deep breaths to calm himself and watched as the eyes dimmed into a soft glow. The creature began to fade with each breath, and when he finally looked more human, he smiled. He must have been quite a frightening sight to the others just a moment ago.
Corbin was lucky. Malcolm could have killed him if he wanted to, and not Rowan or Mara or the king’s army could have stopped him. He was strong, and Corbin was weak. No one could dispute that.
As Malcolm relaxed and his mind became clearer, he sat on the edge of his bed, regretting his words to Mara. He didn’t intend to bring her into it, but it was the only way he knew to hurt Corbin. Malcolm thought about it and shook his head at himself. He recalled the image of Mara with that horrified look on her face. But he had to remind himself that she had already chosen a side, and it certainly wasn’t his. Malcolm knew that even long before this fight. She had already chosen Corbin, and knowing that was beginning to drive Malcolm mad.
Had he not been kind to her? Had he not taught her with a tolerant disposition? And yet every time he was near Mara, he could sense her distrust of him. What more could he do? And now Rowan seemed to be abandoning him as well, favoring his half-breed champion over him. Malcolm was like a son to Rowan. Truly like a son. So why wouldn’t Rowan let his progeny have some authority over the others? It was as Malcolm had always feared. They were pushing him out.
He knew Mara and Corbin were spending more and more time together. He saw it himself in the woods when Corbin rode up with the humans. He listened to their conversation and noticed the flirtatious way in which Mara held on to Corbin when they rode to Valenia. Had it not been for that, perhaps he wouldn’t have been so harsh about the humans’ arrival. After all, they were soldiers, they could be of some use. But Malcolm wasn’t about to let Corbin have his way. Not without a fight, anyway.
And Mara was a fool if she didn’t see that Corbin would just use her and then tire of her like he had with so many other wide-eyed girls in the village. Malcolm, on the other hand, would not abandon her, and one day, she would realize her mistake.
He threw his head back and put his hands to his face. How could he let things get like this? He knew he wanted Mara. Her image sprang to his mind often, even when he slept. Sometimes he would wake from a dream in which he held her in his arms, her slender curves pressed up against him. But the dream was never complete, and Malcolm would always wake with the disappointment of an unfulfilled desire.
He tried to compensate by visiting the brothel in Dunport, seeking out the fairest whore with the darkest hair. But he couldn’t fool himself into thinking it was Mara, and each time he left feeling cheated. On the nights Rowan and Corbin were gone, Malcolm would veil himself and sneak into her room. At the edge of her bed in the darkness, he would stand, watching her for hours. He wished he could manipulate her dreams, to place himself in her mind, but her Dia mind was blocked to him.
As he lay there on his bed, thinking about her, he suddenly wished he hadn’t lashed out at Corbin in front of her. Her reservations about him were now doubly reinforced. But it was too difficult to suppress his natural instincts. He could only pretend for so long before his true nature came out.
Maybe she would forgive him if he seemed sincere enough. Malcolm stayed alone in his chamber for the rest of the day, planning what he might say to Mara in order to regain her trust. When it was finally dark, he decided to go in search of her, hoping she wasn’t with Corbin.
Malcolm slipped down the hallway, hearing laughter coming from the dining hall. It sounded as though Corbin and his humans were into the ale, but Malcolm didn’t sense that Mara was with them. He surreptitiously slinked by the doorway, not wanting Corbin to see him, and walked out to the beach. He found Mara on the sand, facing the sea. The steady breeze blew her hair about her and her dress clung to her body. Malcolm saw a faint glow around her. She was trying to invoke her Light.
She stopped what she was doing when she saw him approach and quickly turned to walk the other way. Malcolm ran after her and stepped in front, walking backwards as she marched on.
“What do you want, Malcolm?” she asked coldly.
“Will you please talk to me?” he asked.
She ignored him and kept walking.
“Please.” He put his hands on her shoulders, forcing her to stop, and with the most sincere expression he could muster he said, “Please, talk to me. I am sorry for what happened earlier.”
She pierced him with watchful, narrowed eyes. “I highly doubt that,” she said in a tone that was pure ice. He was going to have to try harder.
“Look,” he sighed. “I lost control. I honestly didn’t mean to offend you or even Corbin for that matter. I was wrong, and I would take all of it back if I could.”
Mara arched an eyebrow and stared at him. “You are cruel, Malcolm,” she said.
Malcolm groaned with regret. “I didn’t mean to be. It goes deeper than that,” he said. “Do you have any idea what it’s like to have never known a single person in your life that cared about you? And I mean truly cared?”
Her expression turned to curiosity.
“When I heard Corbin found people from his village, I suppose I was jealous. I’ve never had family besides Rowan, and while he took care of me, he is not my father. You’ve had a mother, and Corbin’s had a father, and now he has these humans to bind him to his old life. And what have I got? Nothing.”
Mara’s face fell, and he thought he saw a touch of compassion in her eyes.
Malcolm continued, “I was wrong. And what I said about you was wrong. I wasn’t trying to be cruel. I only said it because I was angry.” Malcolm hung his head and practically pouted.
Mara examined him for a moment and then seemed to soften. “I will forgive you, Malcolm, but just this once. I don’t want to hear you speak of me that way again. And I don’t want to see you attacking anybody the way you attacked Corbin today.”
Malcolm swallowed hard. “I won’t. I swear it,” he said, trying to suppress the elation that washed over him.
Mara kept her eyes on him. “But I think it’s going to take a lot more than that to get Corbin to forgive you. He’s very angry,” she said.
Malcolm nodded. “I will have words with him tomorrow.” Malcolm thought he might have sounded halfhearted, so he tried harder to look sincere.
Mara’s face brightened with a soft smile, and she touched his arm. “I forgive you,” she said.
Malcolm felt like a weight had been lifted from h
im. “So what were you doing out here?” he asked.
She seemed to hesitate, and a hint of skepticism returned to her eyes. “I was trying to shift my appearance,” she said. “Since it’s such an egregious offense that I can’t, I thought I would try again.”
Malcolm winced. He forgot he’d insulted her abilities. “Once again, I apologize. My intent was to say that you aren’t strong enough yet, not that you are hopeless.”
She pursed her lips. “All the same to you, I suppose.”
Malcolm shook his head. “No. Not the same.” He moved closer to her. “I know shifting is difficult, and it feels strange, but it just takes practice. Please, let me show you.” He gently grasped her wrists and pulled her hands up so that her palms were facing him. Then he touched his hands to hers so she could feel the level of energy he used. She watched him with interest as he drew on his power until a soft, silvery light began to appear. He kept his eyes fixed on hers, becoming almost lost in her gaze until the light was strong enough. Then he closed his eyes and focused on the image in his mind.
When he finally opened his eyes, the hands that now held hers were speckled with age, and he knew the face before her was wrinkled and sallow. She gasped at the vision of the old man standing before her, and reached out to touch his face. “It looks so real,” she whispered.
When Malcolm was sure she understood, he withdrew his Light, and the sullen face transformed back into his own. “Now you try,” Malcolm said, taking a step back.
He smiled, watching her focus as the circles of pale green light formed in her hands. She closed her eyes, deep in concentration. At first there was a flicker, and then slowly an image began to take shape. From the top of her head down, Mara began to disappear, and in her place, a misty green fog emerged. It circled her, and it was only a moment before he found himself standing before a vision of his own likeness. He gaped in amazement. She had shifted into him. He marveled at the accuracy in which she projected his gray eyes, and high cheekbones.
She opened her eyes. “I did it,” the apparition said, in Mara’s voice.
“You did,” Malcolm said, feeling proud. It wasn’t more than a moment before the image began to melt away and Mara returned to herself. She looked tired and pale.
Malcolm took her by the arm and helped her sit on the sand. He sat down next to her, letting her catch her breath.
“How do you hold it for so long?” she asked.
“It takes time, and patience,” he said.
He waited a few minutes for her to regain her strength until her eyes were more alert and the color returned to her cheeks. Malcolm didn’t mind. He was just happy to be near her, watching how she ran her fingers through her thick black hair and touched the back of her hand to her cheek.
“Thank you,” she said, touching his arm. He put his hand on hers and then in the rush of the moment, he leaned in and kissed her, hard. Her hand was on his chest as he fell onto her, but by the time he realized she was trying to push him off, a bolt of light shot out from her hands, sending him reeling backwards. His head spun. Hadn’t she kissed him back?
“Malcolm!” she cried, her eyes wide with anger.
Malcolm grabbed his chest as if a blade had just cut through him. He couldn’t stop his pride from feeling the jagged edge of her rejection. There was a moment of painful silence as he searched his mind for the right thing to say. Then he blurted, “It’s really him you want, isn’t it?”
Mara’s dark eyebrows came together. “I don’t feel that way about you, Malcolm. I never have.”
Malcolm moaned with frustration and his face grew hot. “You are a fool if you choose Corbin over me! You and I are the best match. Even Rowan knows it!”
She gaped at him. “The best match?”
“Yes!” He couldn’t stop himself from speaking. “You and I are true Dia. Corbin is a half-blood.”
“And what does that have to do with anything?” She stood up hastily, a look of disbelief on her face.
“Think about it, Mara. We are the purest of blood. Do you think Rowan would have the last of his kin diluted by human offspring?”
Mara’s face went stark white. “So am I just some animal to be bred? Is that what I am to you both?”
“No!” This was coming out wrong. Malcolm tried to soften his tone. “Don’t you understand the power between us? Why else would Rowan ask me to teach you instead of having Corbin teach you? And besides all of that, I love you. We could be so strong together. Don’t throw it away for a halfling who will just use you and tire of you.” This was probably the most sincere Malcolm had ever been with anyone in his entire life, but the look of disgust on her face held firm.
She took an angry step towards him and then stopped. “Do you know what the difference between you and Corbin is?”
“And what is that?” Malcolm asked.
She inhaled a deep breath. “Corbin is kind, Malcolm! He is kind. You are not. And that’s why I don’t want you,” she said. “And I won’t be used like cattle. You are a selfish, manipulative creature, Malcolm. I could never love you.” Her face reddened as she spat out the words.
Before Malcolm could respond, she turned and hurried back towards Valenia. Malcolm pressed his hands to his head and fell to the sand. This was not what he’d intended to happen. All he wanted was to make Mara see that he loved her, to make her see they were meant to be together. He felt it in his soul.
Malcolm sat down dejectedly. What would Rowan have to say about this? Surely he would be even angrier than he already was. And Corbin would certainly never forgive him now. Malcolm exhaled. How had he managed to push away all of them in one day? Malcolm looked back at Valenia. It was all slipping from his grasp, and he felt powerless to stop it. But he couldn’t just give up now.
He would have to smooth things over with Rowan first. That was the key. If he could get Rowan on his side, he could repair the damage with them all. But tonight would not be the night to design such things. He would wait and think it over, and when he was certain the tension had settled, he would seek Rowan’s aid. It was time to set things right.
Mara’s face was burning with rage when she ran into Valenia. She could barely see where she was going through the mist of bitter tears. She let her other senses guide her as she stormed into the dining hall, where the three reunited friends sat earlier in the evening. A few low candles burned on the table next to an overturned jug of ale, and three half-filled cups sat unattended.
Mara turned back and ran towards the corridor, not caring if her frantic steps disturbed anyone. She stopped when she came to Corbin’s door at the top of the hall. With her keen senses, she heard his breathing and felt his presence inside. She quickly wiped away the tears from her face and put her hand flat on the door.
Then she paused.
Why was she standing there? What was she going to tell Corbin? She thought about it carefully. If she told Corbin that Malcolm kissed her, he would be furious, and it would surely sever whatever fragile bond remained between the two. And if she told him about what Malcolm said, things would only be worse. She didn’t want another fight between the two. And then there was Rowan to consider. He was certainly angry with Malcolm already. What would he do if he had to choose between his two sons? No. She couldn’t tell anyone. The outcome was too uncertain.
Mara pressed her forehead against the cool wood of the door. Maybe she should leave Valenia. If she told Corbin how she really felt about him, if he didn’t already know, maybe she could persuade him to leave with her. They could go to the north, or even to Ireland. But would Rowan let her leave? Would he let her vanish into the mortal world like her mother had? And if what Malcolm said was true, perhaps he had other plans for her; maybe she wasn’t safe here after all.
Mara looked up, praying for an answer to whatever god might be listening to her.
But no answer came. She was still alone; as alone as she had always been.
All she could think to do was wait. Perhaps time would suppress whatever f
eelings Malcolm thought he had for her. And if it didn’t, she would have to find the strength to leave.
Mara’s head jerked up when she heard the sound of footsteps in the great hall. She feared it might be Malcolm. Before waiting to have her suspicions confirmed she cracked open Corbin’s door and stepped in, closing it quietly behind her.
A silver beam of moonlight shone through the window, bathing the room in a soft glow. Corbin lay asleep, shirtless, with a thin blanket on his legs. Mara tilted her head, admiring the beautiful man, and blushed as she looked unabashed at his bare arms and molded torso.
She took a few steps towards him, and with a trembling hand she reached out and touched his head, letting the shorn bristles of his hair give way to the resistance of her touch. He stirred and opened his eyes. “Mara?” he said. “What’s wrong?” His blue eyes filled with alarm.
All of a sudden, the reason she’d come into his room escaped her and she found herself unable to form a coherent thought. She could only feel the tingling throughout her body that rose and fell like a breath of wind with each passing moment. She smiled at him. “It’s nothing,” she said.
Corbin nodded but didn’t look convinced. “You look upset.”
“No, I’m not.” She took a step back, and without thinking about it she lifted her dress over her head and let it fall to the floor. Corbin’s eyes widened when she kicked it aside and boldly moved towards him. She wanted to feel the warmth of his skin against hers, have his tongue in her mouth, and get lost in his arms. There was no other explanation for what came over her in that moment.
All she wanted was him.
Corbin sat up, watching her intently, his chest moving up and down with each breath. She touched her hand to his cheek, feeling the tender shock of his energy as it connected with hers. This was like nothing she had ever done before, but to her surprise, she was calm, and sure of herself. Corbin gazed at her, and then grabbed her hand in his and stood up, his crystalline eyes searching hers. “Are you a vision?” he whispered.
The Darkness of Light Page 11