Helen huffed at the question. Then her face became serious. “I believe in whatever’s gonna keep me alive,” she said simply. “But I’ve been chattering on long enough. Ye boys must be tired. Yu’ll probably want to be on yer way in the mornin’.”
She grabbed the jug from the table, which made Osbert groan to attention. “Awe, Hel. Give us a bit more, would yah?”
“It’s late, Osbert. Don’t you think it best that you be on your way?”
Osbert laughed woozily. “I thought I already was.”
“Come now.” She tried to help him to his feet, but the old man fell back down on the bench.
“I’ll help him,” Barrett said. He lifted Osbert to his feet and ushered him out the door.
“I don’t have the most comfortable sleeping arrangements for ye,” Helen said. “Best I can do is a spot by the fire. It gets cold at night this time of year.”
“That will be fine,” Corbin said.
Helen gave each of them a fleece blanket and blew out the candles on the table. Then she shuffled off into the darkness of the adjoining room.
“How would the magistrate know about your kind, Corbin?” Ailwen asked.
Corbin shook his head, mystified. “I don’t know. But he knows something. We will head for Redlow tomorrow.”
In the morning, Helen fed the men porridge and filled a water sack with more of her cider. When Corbin offered her a handful of gold coins, she looked as if she might fall over. It was worth more than she would likely make in her lifetime selling her cider, but Corbin didn’t mind, he liked the widow.
Ailwen went to get the horses as Corbin and Barrett bid her goodbye. “Tell me something, Helen. Did Ethnea ever mention having a brother to you?”
Helen looked surprised by the question. “No. She didn’t. Like I said, she was a very secretive woman.”
And with that, Corbin left.
The small town was beginning to come to life when Corbin stepped out the door. Several yards down the road, Corbin saw Osbert, slumped against a house, snoring. A slender monk in a straw hat and black robe walked past, looking at Osbert with a disapproving shake of his head. Corbin could see by the monk’s robe that he was a lay brother and not a priest. He gestured to get his attention. “Excuse me, brother. Do you know where I might find Magistrate John?”
The monk looked Corbin up and down and shook his head. “No. Not unless he’s in Redlow.” And the monk continued on his walk down the road.
Ailwen came from the green, holding the reins of Corbin’s black courser.
“He’s got to be in Redlow,” Corbin said. “It’s another two-day ride from here.”
Corbin knew he asked a lot of his companions. A mortal man would ride a bit more than fifty miles per day, but with Corbin they were traveling much further, with fewer stops to rest. He wouldn’t have blamed them if they wanted to stay behind, especially Barrett, who was getting on in years. But as Corbin expected, his faithful companions agreed, and when the village gates opened, they set out for Redlow.
For her entire life, Mara was a Dia and didn’t know it. And while her ignorance of this led her to believe that she was a mortal, susceptible to mortal ailments and limitations, in truth, she never was. The true sense of what it felt like to be human was lost on her until the morning she woke in the dim light of Corbin’s chamber. Her entire body ached, and her limbs were as heavy as tree trunks.
Mara rubbed her eyes and sat up, but the motion was disorienting and her head began to throb. She fell back down on the pillow, trying to remember how she’d gotten there. When she lifted the woolen coverlet that was draped over her and saw she was unclothed, her heart began to thud. Everything in her mind was a fog as she closed her eyes, straining to remember.
Isa was dead. She knew that. And she remembered packing a small sack of clothing because she was going to leave Valenia, but what happened after that?
Abruptly, pieces of her memory began to connect. Rowan was dead. Malcolm killed him.
Mara took in short, quick breaths as she tried to recall the details. She held out her hands and turned them over. They looked different. It was then she realized she could no longer feel the energy of her Light.
Wrapping the coverlet around her, she stood up and walked to the glass above the wash basin. She drew in a horrified breath and stared at the face before her. It looked like her, but not like her at all. Her features were the same, but her complexion was a sickly pale and dark circles surrounded her eyes.
She looked closer, realizing it was her eyes that shocked her the most. The color was changed, dark like the sea on a moonless night. She lifted her hand to her face, desperately trying to awaken her Light, but it was gone.
Then the disturbing thoughts started to close in on her. She tried to shake them away, but she couldn’t deny the face staring back at her. Malcolm had done this. Malcolm had done this to her. But that wasn’t all he’d done. She began to tremble. Her eyes darted back and forth, becoming conscious of the truth, and then she heaved with sickness. Hovering over the wash basin, she took in several deep breaths, and when she’d regained enough control to move, she sat back down on the bed. Her stomach twisted and turned at the intrusive visions, and once again she found herself begging her mind to stop torturing her.
Mara looked around the room and spotted her dress on the floor. She was reaching for it when a sound at the door made her jump back. The door creaked open as if on its own and in walked Malcolm with a tray in his hand. Mara clasped the blanket around herself as he set the tray down on the table.
He looked monstrous with power. His eyes shone like polished silver, and his movements were now more fluid than they had ever been before. He seemed to float when he walked and the smile he gave her was luminously wicked. “Does my appearance frighten you?” he asked.
Mara saw her charm around his neck. She said nothing.
“My apologies,” he said. She could see him soften his appearance until he looked almost human. “Is that better?” he asked.
Mara pressed her lips together, unsure of what to do.
“Are you hungry?” He motioned towards the tray. “You must be.”
If Mara had her powers, the surge of her emotions would have caused her to strike at him, but now she could only glare at him with contempt.
Malcolm tilted his head inquisitively. “Now, now, don’t be like that.” He walked over, causing her to recoil further onto the bed. “You are angry with me now,” he said. “But in time, you will forgive me.”
“I despise you,” she spat.
Malcolm laughed and reached out to touch her bare shoulders. Mara tried to slap his hand away, but he caught her wrist in a painfully tight grip. “Don’t be hasty now, princess. You don’t want to anger me.” There was venom in his tone. He released her and stepped back. “I’m sure you must be feeling a bit out of sorts, considering your new condition. So I will remind you that it would be terribly unwise to proceed with your usual impertinence.”
Mara shook with abhorrence. “So are you to keep me locked in here forever?”
He shook his head. “No. Like I said, you will come around eventually. It’s in your best interest. And besides, you want your Light back, don’t you?”
“Not if it means becoming your slave,” she said. “That would never make me submit to you.”
Malcolm smiled and scratched his head. “No, you’re probably right about that, darling. But you fail to appreciate the authority that my new strength provides. You are human, my dear. I could easily compel you to…how did you put it? Submit to me?”
Mara’s heart began to race.
Malcolm gave a little laugh. “But that wouldn’t be right, now would it, my dear? I don’t want to compel you. I want you as you are. It’s the fire inside you that I love. I wouldn’t want to change that.”
“Then you’ll be sorely disappointed,” she said. “Because I will continue to despise you as I am.”
Malcolm tapped his finger to his chin in thought. “Do
you recall what I told you last night?”
Mara remained silent.
“As it turns out, our beloved master, Rowan, revealed to me that it was your mother who killed my father.”
As Malcolm said this, Mara remembered him saying something like it before he attacked her.
Malcolm continued before she could respond. “And in case you weren’t aware, Rowan believed that you are the Keeper of the coire, although he seemed a bit uncertain after the result of your transformation yesterday. Did you know any of this?”
Mara glared at him.
“Well, I think Rowan was on to something before he lost his mind, of course. And I think that you are the Keeper, or were before I took your Light. Were you?” Malcolm raised a questioning eyebrow at her. “And don’t forget, princess,” he said, tapping the side of his head, “I can read your thoughts now.”
Mara gritted her teeth. “I am not the Keeper. I told Rowan that.”
Malcolm watched her carefully for a moment. “Very well. It seems you’re being truthful. But I do have to consider that it was only yesterday you came into your full powers. Perhaps there wasn’t enough time for you to know for certain. So it stands to reason then that you may still be the chosen one, if you get your powers back, that is.”
“Is that what you want, Malcolm? The coire?”
Malcolm nodded. “Of course I do. It’s what Rowan wanted as well, don’t you see? Rowan called himself a guardian, but what you failed to see, Mara, is that he was collecting us. He was collecting the orphans of his kind so that he could control us once he found the coire. Don’t you think it’s strange that he allowed your mother to die? His own sister! He could have saved her. He knew she was going to burn. But he had to let her die because she would have never given you up to him.”
“I know that.” Mara’s eyes fell, the sense of betrayal thick inside of her. She felt the air in the room become heavy as Malcolm leered at her.
“So I will make this simple for you. You can either join me, and when I feel as though you are loyal, I will restore some of your former power. Or you can refuse me, and I will kill Corbin, and compel you to do my bidding. Either way, I’ll get what I want.”
Mara’s hand shook as she clasped it over her mouth. She took a deep breath and tried to calm herself. “You wouldn’t kill Corbin. He has been a brother to you.” She was trying to appeal to whatever compassion he might still possess.
Malcolm smirked. “More like an obstacle, I’d say.”
Malcolm began to pace the room. “I have always been the stronger one, and yet, Rowan treated Corbin as his beloved warrior. I am the pure one, like you, and yet you spurn me for him. Well, all of that has changed now. Rowan is gone, and whether you like it, or not, I have you, and Corbin’s fate is in my hands.”
Mara could feel the pressure rising inside her. “Corbin won’t let you get away with this. He will find a way to kill you!” she blurted with tears in her eyes.
“I am GOD Mara!” he raged. “And Corbin’s life is no longer necessary to further my ambitions.”
“And what are those?” she asked.
Malcolm calmed himself. “I will take back the kingdom that was lost two millennia ago. And you, my dear, will be my goddess.” He walked over and stroked the side of her face.
“I won’t,” she said defiantly.
“You will, or Corbin will die, and I will make you watch.”
Mara pressed her lips together, trying to stop herself from thinking. If Malcolm read her thoughts, nothing she could say would deceive him.
“You know it’s no use, Mara. Corbin will be back any day now, and as you can see, I can disguise myself from his half-blood eyes. He won’t even see it coming. Or…” Malcolm paused. “As a show of kindness to you, I can tell him you fled and that Rowan went looking for you. By the time he figures out the truth, you and I will be long gone. He will be hurt, yes, but he will be alive.”
“He won’t believe you,” she whispered.
“For his sake, I hope he does,” Malcolm said.
Mara remained quiet, trying to find another way out of the situation, when finally she said, “No.”
Malcolm groaned with frustration. “Even as a mortal you still persist with this stubbornness. You have no power, Mara! You must see the truth in that!”
Before Mara could answer, Malcolm dashed to the door and flung it open. Standing outside, eavesdropping, was Annora. She had no time to react before Malcolm dragged her by the neck into the room. She cried out as Malcolm held her before Mara like a caught rabbit. “Shall we test my strength?” He shook Annora hard as she clawed at his hands, and her blue eyes widened with fear.
Mara moved forward to the side of the bed so that her bare feet touched the ground. She wanted so much to stop this, but she was no match for him now.
“Stop!” she cried as the wintery light began to form in Malcolm’s hands. “Don’t hurt her!”
Malcolm gave a vicious smile and released Annora so that she fell to the ground. “So what is your decision?” he hissed.
Mara breathed shallow, violent breaths. “All right!” she cried. “I will do as you wish. But I must have your word that you won’t hurt Annora or Corbin.” She felt desperate and defeated as she said this.
Malcolm relaxed with a satisfied grin. Then he lifted Annora back to her feet and pushed her out of the room, closing the door behind her. His eyes were lit with amusement as he walked over to Mara and gazed down on her. “I knew you’d see things my way.” Hooking his finger under her chin, he forced her to look at him. “Your eyes aren’t as stunning as they used to be, but they’re still beautiful.” He tried to draw her face close to his, but she pulled away. Malcolm shook his head reproachfully. “If our arrangement is going to work, you must submit to your master.”
Mara was overcome with grief and disgust at the horror of her impossible situation. She began to tremble violently as he leaned in again and pressed his lips to hers. She let her mind wander. Just three days ago she had lain in this bed with Corbin, his arms wrapped lovingly around her. Now, Rowan and Isa were dead, and she was a prisoner. Tears welled up in her eyes as Malcolm pulled at the blanket that covered her. But she couldn’t stand to suffer it. “No, Malcolm, stop!” she cried. “Please.”
He wouldn’t listen.
Only yesterday Mara wished that she wasn’t a Dia, and now that she was mortal, all she wanted was her Light back. She didn’t even have the ability now to turn off her senses, and her human body forced her to endure every caress and touch from the monstrous being assaulting her. Malcolm was in no hurry, and when he rested his weight on top of her, all she could do to escape him was stare at the high ceiling of rock above her, mapping out its features.
And while his forceful touch amplified the unbearable indignity she suffered, she thought of the sheriff and instantly regretted ever loathing herself for killing him. She knew then she had been wrong to regret it. And when she got the chance, she would not lament what she was going to do to Malcolm.
The chamber door was locked. After Malcolm left, Mara heard the latch close from the outside. Normally this would have been no deterrent for a Dia, but she was mortal, and could no longer use Light to open the door.
It seemed an entire day and night passed as she lay there, stunned and trembling. Her body jerked involuntarily each time her mind flashed back to the memory she was so desperate to erase. The fact that she gave in to him made her sick. At times Mara found herself pulling at the roots of her hair, as if the punishment would ease her own shame. But it didn’t. And she only found peace in the rare moments when she could completely shut out her mind to any form of thought.
When she couldn’t lay there any longer, she summoned the strength to stand. Clumsily, she washed her face and dressed herself, not used to her heavier, awkward human limbs. Then she walked around the room, looking for some way out. The only options were the locked door and the small opening of a window. She looked out the window. It was a steep drop down an almo
st vertical incline of rock. There was no way for her to scale it as she was. Mara walked over and examined the door, but couldn’t see any way to open it from within.
Mara thought about the deal she made with Malcolm. Though he had given her his word, she was uncertain if he would let Corbin live. Mara hadn’t seen Annora either, and she started to wonder if Malcolm had locked her up as well.
The situation felt hopeless. Being trapped was frightening, and without her preternatural hearing, every creak, scrape, and tap made her jump. There was no way for her to distinguish one sound from another anymore and every time she heard even the slightest noise, she thought it might be Malcolm.
She cried intermittently through her spurts of determination. Had this been her room, she would’ve had the dagger that she kept under her mattress. But she’d left it there on the day she was going to leave and had only stopped in Corbin’s room to say her silent goodbyes. Now, because of her own selfishness, she had no weapon and might never see Corbin again.
If she could only get out and warn him.
Suddenly Mara remembered the bag she had packed. There might be something in it that could help her. She searched the sparse room, but it was gone. “Damn it!” she cried. All she had was what she wore and her cloak that laid on the ground.
As the sun set through the little window, Mara became anxious, and her throat tightened with the apprehension that Malcolm might soon return. She couldn’t bear the thought of laying with him again, and if she had to, perhaps the steep drop down the rock wasn’t so terrifying after all.
Mara was lost in her thoughts when there came a gentle tapping at the door and a hushed voice called to her from the other side. She ran to it and pressed her ear to the door.
“Mara? It’s Annora. Are you all right?”
Mara had to stifle a cry. “Yes. Yes, I am. Can you open the door, Annora?”
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