The Darkness of Light

by Tammy Farrell

Corbin rubbed her arms. “You’re shivering.”

  Her eyes fell. “I don’t have Dia blood in me now, and we didn’t sleep by the fire.” She could see the misery in his eyes when she said this, so she gave him a quick kiss and the happiest grin she could manage. “At least I have you to keep me warm.”

  “And you always will,” he said. “I promise from now on you always will.”

  As they sat up, Ailwen walked over from the campsite, tying his dark blond hair back with a leather cord. “Corbin, are we going back to Valenia?”

  “Yes. Can you bring everyone together? We need to discuss this with them.”

  Ailwen nodded and headed back to the camp.

  Corbin turned to Mara. “I guess that means we had better get up.” He seemed happier than the day before, but he wasn’t fooling her. And when he tried to wipe away the dried tears from her cheek, she could see what he hid behind his blue eyes. He looked at her and exhaled. “We will make it through this. I know we will,” he said.

  “I hope so,” Mara said.

  At the camp, Barrett, Ailwen, Gareth and Drake were preparing their horses while Annora sat near the previous night’s fire.

  Drake’s eyes fell on Mara and Corbin, and she could see the pain in his eyes. He stopped what he was doing and approached them, then looking at Mara he said, “Tell me. Is this my son?” He glanced at Corbin with shame etched on his face. “Am I the man they say I am?”

  Mara took his hand in hers. “I believe he is, Drake. Someone has caused you to forget. I have no doubt of it, and when I get my Light back, we will find out who has done this.”

  Drake nodded and met eyes with Corbin. “I am sorry. I would never abandon my son. I don’t know what’s happened to me,” he said.

  Corbin nodded and put an arm on his father’s shoulder. “We will find out, then.”

  Drake gave a quick nod and walked back to finish securing his bag to his horse’s saddle.

  Corbin cleared his throat, put his hands on Mara’s shoulders and looked to the group. “I think I should let you all know what you are getting yourselves into. By now, the truth of what we are is no secret. But you have to understand that going back to Valenia will be dangerous. Have a good look at Mara. She is mortal. She was not always so. Malcolm has somehow taken her Light, and we must get it back.” Corbin turned to Barrett and Ailwen. “You two know what we’re up against. Malcolm has the Light of three Dia, and he is strong.” Corbin stepped forward. “Drake, Gareth, I want you both to know that this fight is not your burden to bear, and should you choose to stay behind I will understand. I’m already forever grateful to you for what you’ve done for Mara.”

  Corbin returned to Mara’s side and squeezed her shoulders. “We are the descendants of the Tuatha Dé Danann, and we must see this through. If you wish to fight with us, we will welcome you as one of our own, but if you don’t, we will understand.”

  Mara was in awe of the way Corbin spoke, like a commander heartening his troops. She squeezed his hand and took a step forward to speak. “We can’t guarantee we will prove successful,” she said. “Malcolm is very dangerous, but I think the gods are on our side, so we have to try. I have to try.” She smiled, seeing the commitment in the eyes of her friends.

  Barrett gave a little cough. “You know we’re with you,” he said, walking up to Mara and Corbin. “I’d like to see that little fiend on his knees begging for his life.”

  Corbin grinned.

  Drake spanned the gap between him and Mara. “Well then, if what you say is true, my lady, then I am a Dia too, and that makes this fight mine as well.” He walked up to Corbin. “And I will fight beside my son.” Drake offered his arm to Corbin, who accepted. Then Drake added, “And my brothers.” He offered his other arm to Barrett and Ailwen.

  “Count me in as well,” Gareth said. “I’d prefer if the last time I drew blood wasn’t from a lady.” He gave Mara a timid look.

  Mara was humbled. In the midst of all the chaos of her life, she’d managed to find her place among a group of the best people she could have ever known.

  She walked up to Annora and took her hand. “I owe you my life, Annora. If it weren’t for you, I would have never gotten out of Valenia,” she said as grateful tears welled up in her eyes.

  Annora grinned. “Don’t say it,” she scolded before Mara could continue. “Of course I am coming with you. I am a Dia too, and I don’t want to miss the chance to see that bastard squirm.” She gave Mara a hug.

  Corbin brought his hands together. “Then it’s settled. We head for Valenia.”

  Annora helped Mara on to Corbin’s horse and looked to the other men.

  Ailwen held out his hand. “Here, Annora, ride with me.”

  She smiled and accepted his offered hand.

  Drake led the way with Barrett and the others following behind. Mara noticed several times that Barrett opened his mouth to speak to Drake, but stopped himself and kept on in silence.

  Mara sat in front of Corbin, protected by his arms around her.

  “I don’t understand how Drake doesn’t remember any of us,” Corbin said.

  “He remembered me,” Mara said. “He is a good man. I would have died in Moorthrop if it hadn’t been for him.”

  “I wouldn’t have let that happen,” Corbin said.

  Mara turned her head around to look at Corbin. “You know what I mean.”

  Corbin nodded. “I do. I just don’t understand how I didn’t see him.”

  Mara shrugged her shoulders. “You weren’t looking for him, I guess. He was the one who gave me the jeweled dagger. Did you ever see that dagger before your father disappeared?”

  Corbin shook his head. “No. The day I met you was the first time I ever saw it.”

  Mara bit her bottom lip in thought. “He said he’s been looking for me ever since that day. So even though he doesn’t remember you, whatever Dia is left in him must have been what drove him to find me.”

  Mara could hear Corbin scoff a little. “Or he just felt like a coward for sending a young woman into the forest by herself,” he muttered.

  Mara looked back reproachfully. “He saved me, Corbin. And he didn’t abandon you or run away. Something has happened to make him this way.”

  “I hope you’re right,” Corbin said.

  As they rode on, Mara saw Barrett finally work up the nerve to speak to Drake. He rode up beside Drake’s horse. “So Drake, you really don’t remember me?”

  Drake shook his head. “I’m sorry, I don’t.”

  Barrett glanced back to make sure no one was paying them any attention. “So you mean to tell me you don’t remember those lady fire-eaters…the twins? You know, the ones with the wide mouths.” Mara heard Barrett stifle a laugh.

  “No. I honestly don’t,” Drake admitted.

  Barrett shook his head. “Well, damn. I was sure you’d remember that one.” Then he perked up again. “So you mean to tell me that you don’t remember the night with the mead and the horse’s arse?”

  Drake gave him a strange look and then laughed. “No. But I’m beginning to wish I did.”

  Barrett roared with laughter. “Oh no you don’t, brother. Trust me. That one’s best being forgotten. But you’d believe me if I told you about the old times?”

  Drake stared at Barrett for a minute. “I believe you, friend. I am just sorry I can’t recall them myself.”

  Barrett slapped Drake hard on the back with a laugh. “No worries, brother. We’ve got a few days to travel, and I’ve got more than a lifetime of stories to catch you up on.”

  Icy rain and wind pushed against Malcolm and his men as they descended the steep valley at the foot of Cadaig River. It was midday, but the darkened sky made it seem like the night.

  So far, Malcolm was pleased with his newly-enlisted recruits. The warrior, Eli, had indeed been truthful that these were fighting men. And although they were mortal, they continued to push on through the harsh weather and terrain as only trained warriors would. They were headed for Va
lenia. It didn’t take long before Malcolm learned Corbin and his men found Mara and that little wench, Annora. He was surprised to see their little troop traveling the road south. And when he veiled himself to get closer to them, he was delighted when he overheard their plans to travel back to Valenia under some foolish notion that their band of castoff soldiers would fight him and win.

  The thought was laughable, really.

  What threat were four mortal soldiers, two of which were quite on in years, two women, and a half-blood? Malcolm expected that Corbin would be his biggest challenge, especially if Corbin knew what he had done to Mara, but no more challenging than perhaps a stubborn mule would be to a weary farmer. Malcolm was still more cunning and certainly more powerful than the dim-witted Corbin would ever be. And now with the added benefit of Malcolm’s warriors, there would be a massacre. Malcolm could have easily attacked Mara and Corbin right where he found them, but that wouldn’t have been much fun. Why not let them have their false hope for a while longer? Let them think they were going to Valenia to destroy him. He would savor their defeat and watch them die in the place they once called home.

  It would be simple. Malcolm would kill Corbin, and then he would keep Mara for himself. Annora—he would punish for helping Mara escape, and if she was fortunate, he might let her live. Perhaps he could keep her to amuse his men.

  He doubted Corbin’s four mortal soldiers would survive, but if they did, they would have to choose between serving him, or a long, painful death.

  Malcolm hoped that death would be their choice.

  He was actually quite astonished by his own malice. Was he always this vicious? He knew he could be cruel before, but it seemed that his new power had sharpened his thoughts into a blade of wickedness that shocked even him.

  Perhaps he would be gentler had he not been treated so poorly by those who should have loved him. He didn’t deserve their rejection. So it stood to reason that whatever happened to Rowan, Corbin, and Mara was merely a result of their own offenses. Or perhaps it was as Ethnea predicted, and he was simply the embodiment of his father.

  Now Malcolm and his men moved swiftly to get farther ahead of the traitors. They would be ready and waiting for them when they arrived at Valenia. Of the six soldiers under Malcolm’s charge, Eli was clearly the right choice for commander. Malcolm learned that before the invasion of Atrebatia, Eli was of a noble house that descended from the time of the Romans. The man Malcolm killed on the outskirts of Tyemore was set to inherit the land after Eli’s father’s death, but the invasion put an end to that. Eli made it quite clear he wasn’t vexed by his uncle’s demise and he and his men were certainly ready to fight for a new kingdom.

  The other five men were of lower families and didn’t bear the heraldic mark that indicated noble lineage like Eli. None of them were more than thirty years of age, but the many attacks on Atrebatia had given them the benefit of experience far greater than afforded by time alone. Eli identified the men as Achen, Richard, Sel, Uriel, and Taran. Some of them once had families, but all were lost to the invaders. And when Malcolm read their thoughts he could see their lack of familial ties and muted fear of him would keep them loyal.

  When they finally reached the shores of Valenia, Malcolm could sense the confusion among the men. They expected to see a fortress, but instead all they beheld were misty shores and a high cliff that plunged down into the sea. Malcolm pointed to the invisible dwelling and watched their puzzled expressions. Then he ordered them to dismount their horses and stand before the rock, and with a swipe of his hand the mist lifted, and the contours of Valenia began to take shape. Malcolm laughed as even the most hardened of the men stood agape when the mound rose up to reveal the high rock walls and drum tower that looked out onto the western sea. Malcolm let the men gaze at the structure for a moment. “This, my good men, is Valenia. Your people may call it a fortress, but my people call it a sidhe. It’s concealed from mortal eyes unless we reveal it to them, of course.”

  Eli approached Malcolm with his naturally narrow eyes still scanning the structure. “No one can see this?” he asked in amazement.

  “Not unless we want them to,” Malcolm said. “Come inside and let your men get some rest. The traitors will be here by sundown tomorrow, and there are some preparations we have to make.”

  When the men had eaten and rested, Malcolm had them fashion some of the chambers into cells. They closed off the windows and placed heavier barring on the outside of the doors. Initially, Malcolm intended to create two cells, one for Mara and one for Annora, but he decided that perhaps taking Corbin’s Light and keeping him alive might be amusing, so he had a third room converted as well.

  Then the men familiarized themselves with the layout of Valenia and the surrounding landscape. Malcolm was sure Corbin and Mara would come from the forest and wouldn’t be anticipating the new defenses. He had Eli appoint two men to wait in the forest, with the intention of ambushing Mara and Corbin between Valenia and their certain retreat.

  The plan was to occupy the four mortal men outside and trap Mara, Annora, and Corbin inside. Eli commanded the three remaining soldiers to stand guard at the front of Valenia, and he and Malcolm would wait for the other three to enter.

  “The dark-haired girl,” Malcolm began, giving Eli a stern look. “I want her alive. I don’t care about the others, kill them if you must, but I want the dark-haired girl alive. Do you understand me?”

  “I do, my lord.”

  Malcolm nodded. “Then once we have taken care of these traitors we can find the coire. Do you know what that is, Eli?”

  “I don’t, my lord.”

  Malcolm smirked. “The coire is what will give us the power to take any kingdom. We can bring back Dia long gone to the Otherworld. All of the realms will be ours, even the isles if we want them.”

  Eli looked intrigued. “And this coire, will it allow us to retake Atrebatia?”

  “Any realm we want, Eli. The whole world if we choose it. You get me that girl alive and I will give you Atrebatia if you wish.”

  “Then it will be done, my lord.”

  It was then that Malcolm had an idea. “Come closer, Eli.” Malcolm clutched the Lia Fáil around his neck with his left hand and put his right on Eli’s shoulder.

  Eli awaited his master’s command, but there was none to be given. Malcolm focused his energy and summoned his Light, envisioning it flowing through Eli. As he did this, a faint glow began to emerge from his fingers and spread across Eli’s chest. Malcolm could see the curiosity on Eli’s face while he watched the white light envelope him and then disappear. Malcolm retracted his hand and stood back to examine his champion. “How do you feel, Eli?”

  Eli looked at his hands. “I feel…strengthened, my lord.” His eyes widened and he walked back and forth like he was weightless. To Malcolm, Eli still looked mortal, but now he had the aid of Dia magic to strengthen his fight. Malcolm grinned with excitement. Now he possessed not only the ability to take power, but to bestow it on others as well. He truly was a Cian of the Tuatha Dé Danann.

  “Good,” Malcolm said with a nod of dismissal. “Now you will have no trouble with the half-blood, Corbin.”

  Eli bowed in gratitude and marched off to ensure his men were in order.

  Malcolm retreated to what was once Rowan’s chamber and threw himself down on one of the cushioned chairs, contemplating what he would do with the traitors once they were his captives once more. He fell back into his mind, mulling these things over until he was almost in a state of suspended consciousness. Then his eyes shot open when an unexpected presence in the room roused him from his thoughts. He sat up, tilted his head, and looked around the room. “What is this?” he asked himself, standing up to see out the window. There was nothing there, but he could feel it near him, like an invisible plume of smoke hovering about him.

  Malcolm engaged all of his senses. “Who is there?” he demanded.

  The air grew heavier.

  “You will show yourself to me at on
ce!” he urged.

  As soon as he said this, a cloud of pure white smoke appeared in front of him. He took a step forward and watched it slowly change shape before his eyes to reveal the figure of an old, decrepit woman standing before him. Malcolm jumped back. The woman was a pitiful sight. She had long gray hair and she looked upon him with eyes that had no pupils, only blue clouded irises.

  “What are you?” he demanded.

  The apparition regarded him with a thin-lipped grin and then in a croaking voice she said, “I’m your mother, Malcolm.”

  Malcolm stared in disbelief when the old woman’s form began to remold itself again until it became a tall, slender figure. The woman’s ashen hair turned a shade of snowy gold, just like his, and the eyes took on a silvery glow. When the apparition finished its transformation, Malcolm beheld a luminescent woman who seemed neither phantom nor part of this world. Her white hair was long and draped around her white gown, and her slim features were beautiful and celestial.

  Malcolm stumbled back when the white woman stepped closer to him. “What is this?” he stammered.

  She gave a gentle smile that seemed almost mechanical. “I told you. I’m your mother. My name is Daria,” she said in a voice that rang out like a chorus.

  Malcolm continued backwards until he fell into the chair at the end of the room.

  The woman stood there and watched him with her expressionless eyes.

  Was this some kind of trick? Was the Light inside Malcolm driving him mad? This creature certainly shared a resemblance with him, but it couldn’t be real.

  The apparition smiled. “This is no trick, son. This is your mother standing before you.”

  Malcolm put a hand to his mouth. “How can this be?” he whispered.

  She swept across the room as if her feet didn’t touch the ground. “I’ve been watching you for some time now, child. And I’ve waited for the right time to reveal myself to you.”

  “What are you then? How are you not of this world or trapped in the Otherworld?”

  The woman moved to a chair closest to Malcolm and sat down. He could see through her form to the back of the chair. She smiled at him again. “That is because I am of neither, Malcolm. I am what our kind call a Revenant.”