The Embers of Light

by Tammy Farrell

  They arrived in Moorthrop at first light. The modest village, nestled in the hills of Dumnonia, was surrounded by tall stone walls, built up year after year to protect them from the barbarians.

  Corbin noted the wall was another foot higher as they approached, and when they entered the gates, the ruins of the old prison, once a monastery, told him where the villagers had gotten the stone.

  He stole a glance at Mara as they walked into the village, surprised to see the lack of emotion on her face. He’d expected to see some trepidation, perhaps some grief, but instead she kept her gaze steady and her steps sure. From what Corbin knew, Ethnea’s execution was the last to take place in the little village. But even though the burnings had ceased and the vile prison had been dismantled, the fog of murder and injustice still lingered in the air.

  They veiled themselves as they got farther into the village, passing children playing and people who gave them little more than a glance, until they reached the village green and the spot where the execution scaffold once stood.

  Corbin held his breath and stopped, while Mara took a few steps closer, pausing before the spot where her mother had taken her last breath.

  “It looks so different now,” Mara said, looking around. “I feel like I’ve never been here—like I’ve never known this place.”

  Corbin rested a gentle hand on her shoulder. “That’s because it isn’t the same place, and you are not the same girl who lived here.”

  Mara nodded thoughtfully and pulled up the hood of her cloak. “You’re right,” she said with a hint of sourness in her tone. She gave the spot another quick glance and turned toward the dirt road.

  Helen’s cottage sat near the far end of the village, one of the last before the rear gates. Mara stopped several feet from the small vegetable garden in front of the house, and watched Helen with her back to them, tending the herbs. Corbin moved in front of Mara, squeezed her hand and cleared his throat.

  Helen whirled around with a start, her eyes wide. Since he’d last seen her, she hadn’t changed much; a few extra strands of gray in her hair, and an extra wrinkle or two were the only notable differences.

  “Corbin?” she said, her face filling with recognition.

  On their first meeting, she’d given him nothing but scowls, thinking him no more than a rogue soldier. But after his generous offering of coin, she’d forgotten her misgivings. “What brings ye to Moorthrop?” She got to her feet and rubbed the dirt from her hands on her skirt.

  Corbin dipped his head. “We’ve come to see you.”

  Helen frowned suspiciously. “Oh?” She craned her neck to see who was behind him.

  “Can we go inside?” Corbin asked.

  She stared at him a moment longer, but yielded with a nod. She led the way through the green door of her cottage and opened a window shutter to let in some light. “What’s this all about?” she asked, turning to Corbin and the hooded figure beside him.

  Mara stepped forward and let her hood fall. Helen gulped and stumbled back, bumping the trestle table behind her. “God in heaven,” she whispered. “Is this a ghost?” Her eyes darted from Mara to Corbin and back.

  Mara must have looked very different to Helen. Mara’s girlish features were gone, replaced by an ethereal woman’s countenance, with magic in her eyes.

  Mara waited for Helen to catch her breath.

  “Mara?” Helen whispered. “Is it really you?”

  “It is,” Mara said, taking a step closer. “I am alive and well.”

  “I thought ye long dead, child.” Helen’s voice cracked with emotion. She held out her hands to Mara and embraced her. “Where have ye been all this time?” She pushed Mara back to examine her, and when she made the connection, her eyes darted to Corbin. “And what are ye doin’ here with him?” She cast an accusing finger at Corbin that made him smirk.

  Mara gave Helen a gentle smile. “I’ve been with Corbin ever since I left Moorthrop, Helen. He saved me after the magistrate put a price on my head.”

  The suspicion never left Helen’s face.

  “He saved my life,” Mara assured.

  “I see,” Helen said with a distant nod before her expression hardened again on Corbin. “And why didn’t ye tell me that when ye showed up on me doorstep? You knew she was alive. Were ye playin’ some awful trick on me? Wantin’ to see an old woman’s grief?”

  “No, of course not,” Corbin insisted with a shake of his head. “I couldn’t tell you then, not with the magistrate hunting her. And besides, you wouldn’t have believed me.”

  Helen eyed Mara again, looking closer. “Ye look different, child—” She broke off and looked away as if trying to ignore the preternatural being standing before her. “It’s done now,” she said with note of relief. “The magistrate died last winter. The sickness got him.”

  “I know,” Corbin said, remembering how he’d killed the magistrate himself.

  Helen exhaled and wiped her forehead. “Sit down, the both of ye, and let me fix something for us to eat.” She took another curious look at Mara then busied herself near the hearth. She picked up the flint and firestone to start the fire, but Mara walked over and put a hand on her shoulder.

  “Let me,” Mara said.

  Helen watched with her mouth open as Mara formed a green flame in her hand and dropped it onto the dry wood, causing it to burst in to flames.

  Helen gasped and stepped back. “What in heaven? What witchery is this?”

  Mara shook her head. “It’s not witchery, Helen. This is what I am, it’s what I’ve always been, and it’s what my mother was, too.”

  Dropping her hands from her mouth, Helen stumbled into a chair. “I always knew ye was different, child. I just didn’t want to believe it.”

  Mara took the seat across from her. “We are Dia, Helen—descendants of the old gods.”

  It took Helen a long moment to stop shaking her head. “I always knew,” she repeated. “Ye never were of this world.”

  “But I am of this world,” Mara said softly. “I’m sorry if I’ve frightened you. I’m sorry I didn’t come back sooner.”

  Helen looked Mara over once more, her expression obliging. “Well, dear, I’m just glad to know yer alive…finally.” She stole a quick glare at Corbin and put her hand on Mara’s.

  Corbin sat down with them, unable to conceal his affection for the bitter woman. “Now do you see why I couldn’t tell you?”

  Helen thought for a moment, her eyes combing over Mara, “I suppose,” she said. “I certainly wouldn’t ha’ believed this. But it would’ve been nice to know she was safe!”

  Corbin put a hand on his chest. “You have my sincerest apologies, my lady.”

  For the first time, Helen smiled. “Where have you been all this time?” she asked Mara.

  “We live in Gwynedd now,” Mara said.

  “Oh, ye’ve come all that way?”

  Mara glanced at Corbin as though she wished he wasn’t there, and took Helen’s hand. “I want you to come back with us.”

  Corbin’s head shot up. Mara only said she wanted to see Helen, not bring her back with them. Why would she keep that from him?

  Helen considered it for a moment, and then shook her head. “I’m an old woman, dear. I’ve lived in this place all my life. I can’t be leavin’ now, I just can’t.”

  Mara’s expression fell. “Please, Helen. I can make you one of us; I can give you powers…”

  “Mara—” Corbin tried to interrupt, but she went on.

  “You will have many lifetimes to live if you come with us. Please, Helen.”

  This time there was no pause when Helen shook her head. “I can’t, child. You might be a descendant of gods, but I am a human. My husband was a human. Whatever comes after this life, that’s where he’s waitin’ for me, and I’ll go with him when my time comes.”

  Mara pursed her lips and sat back. “I want to know you’re safe here, that another man like the magistrate won’t come and start executing people again.”


  Helen smiled. “Oh, this village is as secure as it ever was. Before the magistrate, that is.” She waved her hand in the air. “There are no more magistrates comin’. They say King Erbin is using all his men to fight the barbarians. We’re on our own out here. We have our own village council now, and the young men, well, they’ve been manning the walls. If you ask me, this is the safest place in all the realm.”

  Mara let out a breath of resignation. Helen would not be moved to change her mind.

  “But you’re the closest thing to any family that I have,” she said softly.

  Helen’s expression melted with a sad smile as she reached out and took Mara’s hand. “You don’t look alone to me.” Her eyes shifted to Corbin. “And you’re always welcome here.”

  Mara nodded.

  “Perhaps we could bring Little Isa to see you,” Corbin said.

  Helen raised an eyebrow. “Isa?”

  “She’s a foundling that we care for,” Mara said. “We’re all she has.”

  Helen stood and walked toward the hearth. “You see, you are a young woman now. And this child you speak of, she needs you.” Helen hung the heavy pot over the fire. “My bones may creak like an old wagon, but I’m as strong as ever. Don’t you worry about me, child.”

  Corbin felt the mood in the room lift slightly, and Mara’s smile returned.

  “I’ve missed you so,” Mara said.

  Helen wiped her hands on her apron and sat back down. “As have I, dear. Now, tell me what you’ve been doing these last two years.”

  Corbin listened while Mara told Helen all that had happened since her escape from Moorthrop. Helen’s eyes were as wide as saucers for most of it, and Corbin suspected that even though two Dia were sitting right in front of her, Helen would never fully believe the truth of what they were.

  Corbin paced the long length of the great hall of Ayrith, his hands clasped behind his back, his thoughts giving him an anxious flutter in the pit of his stomach. Mara had been quiet the whole way back to Ayrith.

  He’d hoped their time with Helen would have lifted her spirits, but instead she seemed tired, and when she thought he wasn’t looking, he noticed her rub her head and wince as though she were in pain.

  It was unusual. Something wasn’t right, and he knew it, but each time he asked her about it, she gave him no answers.

  He was the Keeper’s guardian—her guardian—and yet, more and more, she was shutting him out.

  As Corbin continued to pace, the smell of roast goose traveled in from the dining hall. Annora was preparing a feast, but Corbin didn’t much feel like celebrating. Whether it was his own instinct, or some secondary sense that came with being a Keeper’s guardian, he was almost certain trouble was near.

  He grunted, and decided he would have to speak to Mara, compel her to reveal whatever she was keeping from him. He’d been gentle with her since leaving Valenia, maybe too gentle, careful not to stir unhappiness in her. Whatever was gnawing on his senses now, wouldn’t allow him to indulge her any longer.

  If he was going to protect her, she had to tell him the truth.

  He found Mara in their chamber, sitting in front of the fire with the window shutters drawn. He wondered why she’d lit a fire in the middle of summer? Her far-off gaze remained fixed on the flames even as he walked in, and she didn’t look up until he touched her shoulder.

  She gave him a soft smile and smoothed the skirt of her dress.

  “I didn’t hear you come in,” she said. “I was mesmerized by the flames. They can be so hypnotic, sometimes I forget where I am.”

  Corbin wrinkled his brow in response, but she didn’t see, having looked back into the fire.

  “You have to tell me what’s wrong,” he said gently. “What secrets are you keeping? How am I to protect you if you keep things from me?” He grabbed a wooden stool and sat directly in front of her, forcing her to meet his gaze. “Tell me,” he said, his voice firmer than he’d intended.

  She stared at him for a moment with a distant look in her eyes, then her focus came back, like a candle lit in the darkness. “It wasn’t easy, you realize?”

  “What wasn’t?” Corbin asked.

  Mara exhaled. “Going back to Moorthrop. It’s a different place now. It’s the place I should have lived.”

  Corbin nodded. “It’s that way now because of you. That village was spared the evil of those men because of you.”

  “And you,” Mara said quietly.

  Corbin nodded again and paused before he spoke. “I know you wanted Helen to come back with us. But she will be fine in Moorthrop now. It’s what she wants. You didn’t even tell me you wanted to make her a Dia, never even consulted me. Was that your plan all along? Is that why you wanted to go back there?” His shoulders tensed and for the first time he realized he was angry with her.

  Mara’s face darkened slightly and the mood in the room darkened more. “I didn’t realize I was to consult you on my decisions.”

  Corbin shook his head. “That’s not what I meant.”

  Mara’s fingers curled into her hand. “Then what did you mean? Because, to me, you sound just like your father right now. Drake thinks I require his approval as well.” Mara shook her head irritably and looked aside. “Men try to rule in the guise of guardians and protectors.”

  Corbin shot to his feet, finding it hard to keep himself from glaring at her. “Is that what you think I’m doing—trying to rule you?”

  There was no retreat to her severity and she continued to look at Corbin with a fixed, cold stare. “It would seem that way, don’t you think? I am reproached for wanting to make our friends Dia, I am admonished when I don’t consult you about my plan for Helen. Who is the Keeper here, Corbin? Who has the Lia Fáil and the power of the coire? You and your father are my counselors, not my leaders.”

  Corbin was utterly speechless for a moment, confounded by the strange woman before him. Never had she looked on him with such accusing anger. He waited for her expression to change, for her to realize she was being unreasonable, but that moment didn’t come, and he found himself seething. “How dare you make such claims!” His voice rose involuntarily. “How dare you suggest that my father or I have some plot, that we want to control your power in some way. Listen to yourself, Mara. How can you say such a thing?”

  Mara stood and glared, challenging him. “My uncle was that way—my own blood. Why should you be any different?”

  Corbin wanted to shake her, to grab her by the arms and shake the sense back in her, but he clutched his fists to his sides, willing his arms to stay down. “You have lost your senses. And to say that your insinuations don’t rip my heart in two would be a lie. I want to help you, not control you. The same goes for Drake. We are your guardians, not your rulers.”

  Mara frowned and turned her head from him. The silence that rose between them might as well have been a stone wall.

  Corbin watched her, unable to understand what had changed, what had caused her to lose faith in him. He wanted to take her by the wrist, bury her in his chest and beg her to stop this.

  He waited until the silence became so thick, he had to break its wall down. “What are you not telling me, Mara? What secrets do you have?” he asked in a softer tone.

  When she didn’t answer, a blaze of frustration rose up in him. He seized her arms and forced her to face him. “Tell me!”

  Mara jerked her arms free. “Don’t make demands of me, Corbin! In one breath you say you don’t want to rule me and the next you give me orders! Which is it? Am I free to make my own choices or am I to consult with you first?”

  Corbin’s chest rose and fell with tumultuous breaths and he knew his eyes were blazing at her. “This has nothing to do with men and women, Keeper or guardian. This is about you and me, Mara. My job is to protect you, and I can’t do it if you’re not honest with me.”

  Mara paced to the window and then marched back as though she was about to attack. Despite being more than a foot shorter than he, she confronted him with the
air of a man twice his size, and a glare as vicious as a hungry wolf. “You want truth?” she shouted. “I wanted to give Helen power not only because I love her, but because I need her. We need her! There are too few of us, Corbin, and there are others out there like us, thousands maybe, and I don’t want our little kingdom to be weak!” She huffed with frustration and turned away from him.

  It took a moment for Corbin to gain his composure, to truly understand what she was saying. He took in a breath, feeling his heartbeat slow. “What do you mean, thousands?”

  Mara refused to look back at him, instead, choosing to stare out the window. “Thousands,” she repeated. “There are possibly thousands of Dia on earth. I can feel them, their souls call to me from the shadows in which they hide.”

  Corbin let out a long breath and shook his head. “Why didn’t you tell me this sooner? Why keep it from me?”

  Mara’s knuckles were white as she clutched the windowsill. “I didn’t understand it until recently. I didn’t know what it was.” She finally turned, pressing her back to the wall, her expression a little softer. “I didn’t tell you because it wasn’t time for you to know. I don’t think they’re a threat to us. But you and Drake are suffocating me with your protection. And while I feel the need to be cautious, I don’t want to feel controlled.” She pressed her hands to her temples and squeezed her eyes shut. “And I’m tired, Corbin. I’m so very tired.”

  Corbin took her face in his hands as her glistening green eyes filled with tears, all hint of anger washing away. “I would never want to suffocate you. That was never my intention. But, Mara,” he lifted her chin to look at him, “you can’t shut me out.”

  Mara’s eyes dropped as she nodded. “I know,” she finally admitted. “I’m so sorry.”

  Corbin stared at her, searching her face for a truth he sensed remained hidden. “There is more, isn’t there? I can see it in your eyes. You are changing before me and I am powerless to stop it because I don’t know the cause.”

  There was a long moment of silence. Mara seemed like she wanted to speak, but hesitated. Then she said, “I think I’ve made a mistake. I—”