Corbin led the men through the hidden entrance and down the dark, narrow passage until they reached the door. He unsheathed his sword, its glowing blade lighting the passage as he pulled back on the latch, and with one heavy push, the door snapped open. A cold rush of musty air struck them as they peered into the darkness. All was still. Corbin took a tentative step forward, his eyes sweeping the hall, his steps as silent as air. He went as far as the center of the hall and listened. There was no movement within the walls of the fortress, but with his keen senses, Corbin heard the beat of a mortal heart, much slower than a Dia heart, and softer in its rhythm. Why was there only one? If Eli was here with Malcolm, there should be two heartbeats.
Corbin took another step forward and motioned for Barrett and Ailwen to look down the chamber hall. Drake went into the great hall, while Corbin ascended the steps that led to the main chamber.
The door was cracked open. Corbin pushed it the rest of the way, the hinges creaked, breaking the silence, and he stepped into the empty room. A tray of spoiled food sat on the table, a jug of ale overturned. The shutters on the long window stood open and beneath the sill, puddles of rainwater pooled on the floor.
A terrible wave of dread washed over Corbin as he turned and ran back to the entrance hall where Drake stood bearing the same wary look. Without a word to one another, they raced down the chamber hall and stopped at the open door of Malcolm’s room. Barrett and Ailwen stood facing the bed.
“What is it?” Corbin asked breathlessly.
They parted, wide-eyed, and that’s when Corbin saw the body, laid out like a corpse on the bed. Corbin traded a quick glance with Drake.
“Is he dead?” Barrett asked, stepping aside for Corbin.
“No,” Drake said. “Listen. You can hear his heart beating.”
“But there is no breath,” Barrett said. “He does not move.”
Corbin glared at Malcolm, whose skin was gray like death. He nudged the body with the hilt of his sword. “He looks dead.”
Drake approached and bent down, tapping Malcolm’s cheek. “He is cold to the touch.” Drake leaned in closer, his eyes glowing like pools of blue water, and when he finally stood, there was a deep crease in his brow. “Have you ever known Malcolm to shift his appearance?”
Corbin nodded. “He could take almost any human form.”
Drake stroked his beard. “But has he ever taken the form of another, not just looked like them, but took control of their body?”
“No,” Corbin said, confused by the question.
“What are ye gettin’ at, Drake?” Barrett asked.
Drake took a step back. “Mara may have taken his Light, but there is one thing, an inherent trait that may have stayed with him.”
Corbin’s breath quickened, his shoulders tensed.
Drake looked at Malcolm one more time. “I think Malcolm is, or was, a Revenant.”
“A Revenant?” Ailwen said.
Drake looked at Corbin cautiously. “They can take their souls and place them in the body of another.”
Corbin tightened his grip, his leather-gloved hands clamping around the hilt of his sword. “Eli. He’s taken Eli’s body.”
“It seems that way, lad,” Barrett said, scratching his head.
“But he was trapped here. How could he leave? How long has he been free?” Corbin muttered, as panic started to set in.
“Mara may have taken his power, Corbin, but no one can control a Revenant. It was just his body trapped here, not his soul,” Drake said.
Corbin stared at his father, his mouth dry, his teeth clenched. Somehow the bastard had managed to best him once more. “Then if his soul is gone, I am free to kill him.” Corbin lifted his sword and moved for Malcolm, but Drake stepped in the way.
“No, Corbin!” Drake put his hand on Corbin’s arm to lower the sword. “If you kill his body, it may yet kill Mara. Do you want to take that risk?”
Corbin jerked his arm away. “Their souls are bound, not their bodies. I see only a body here.”
Drake hardened his expression. “If you destroy his body now, he will remain in spirit forever, able to possess anyone.”
Ailwen moved closer, his eyes locked on Malcolm. “Then you might never know who you are speaking to.”
A cold shiver ran up Corbin’s spine as his attention turned Ailwen.
“A Revenant must die in the body they possess. Otherwise they are wandering spirits,” Drake said.
Corbin groaned and turned away from his father, Ailwen, and Barrett. They were all looking at him with apprehension. He didn’t want his suspicions to be true, he didn’t want to pose the question, but he had to. He dropped his arm and took a step towards Ailwen, his sword still warm in his hand. “Malcolm is missing, and you have this extraordinary power that we cannot explain.” He eyed Ailwen. “Enlighten me, brother. Put my mind at ease for once. Tell me something of our boyhood. Something only the two of us would know so I can be sure you’re not possessed by this demon.”
Ailwen looked stunned, his eyes bright and wide. “You can’t possibly think I’m Malcolm?”
Corbin tightened his grip on his sword. “Something is amiss here. I need to know that you are not part of the reckoning. Tell me now, Ailwen. Tell me something.”
Ailwen stepped back, taking a moment to think before saying, “Y-you and I used to play hoodman’s blind in the old keep next to the manor house. You were a cheat, always lifting the sack to see.” Ailwen paused. “And Madge’s daughter, Julia, the pretty blonde who was more than a foot taller than us. You always had eyes for her. It nearly got you beaten bloody one day.” Ailwen stood there, his eyes sincere, his expression injured. “I am your friend,” he said.
Corbin took heavy breaths as the sweat formed on his brow. He lowered his sword and quickly felt remorse set it. “My apologies, brother. I am not in my right mind at the moment.”
Ailwen nodded.
Dropping his arms to his sides, Corbin looked at the three men and turned on his heel to free himself from their stares. He sheathed his sword and marched down the hall, back up to the main chamber. He pushed the tray of food to the floor and kicked the table so that the cups and jugs crashed.
Drake walked in and looked at the mess. “He’s been gone a while, if this was his last meal.”
“How will we find him?” Corbin asked. “Where could he be?”
Drake shook his head. “If he is traveling in Eli’s body, he still has no Light, no power. He is a mortal man. I suggest we take his body back to Ayrith. Without it, without his Light, he will be forced to live as a mortal.”
Corbin leaned on the table and wiped his brow. “What about the spell that keeps him here?”
“I helped Mara create it. I can undo it. You should go on ahead, get back to Ayrith. We will follow with the body.”
“No,” Corbin said, shaking his head. “I will see him brought back with us.”
Corbin hoped Drake wouldn’t be able to break the spell, and when they carried Malcolm over the threshold he would burst into flames.
But after Drake had broken the spell, that didn’t happen, and when Ailwen carried the body out into the damp air, Corbin had to suppress the fire rising in his gut, begging him to act. He watched Ailwen secure Malcolm to the back of his horse. Somehow Ailwen’s assurances didn’t put his mind at ease, but he was sure he would know if Ailwen was somehow possessed by Malcolm. There would be more signs. Signs that only he would see. Malcolm may have been powerful as a Dia, but he was certainly not as clever as he thought himself to be.
Corbin leapt on his horse and grabbed the reins. Perhaps he was simply paranoid, fearful of letting his guard down enough to let the darkness slip back into their lives. If Malcolm was in Eli’s body, he would be suffering a mortal existence. For a moment, this made Corbin smile. He hoped Malcolm was suffering, starving, injured, or better yet—dead. That would solve at least one of his problems. But for now, he would take Malcolm’s body. And Corbin knew exactly where to put him, where not
even a Dia could break free.
They were close to Valenia. Malcolm felt its presence pulling him in. But first, he needed to rest. Even twenty more steps would have crippled him, so they spent the night in the forest, his home so close, but his body too weak to reach it.
In the morning, Malcolm smelled smoke, but he didn’t want to open his eyes. The crackling wood gave off a warmth that touched only parts of his body, warming him just enough to keep the worst chill at bay. He’d not gotten used to being so cold. Mortals must spend their entire lives shivering, he thought miserably.
He’d only slept a few hours during the night, jolting from sleep, fearful that the mud walls of Bram’s slave keep were still around him. But when he opened his eyes and saw the stars above him, and open air all around, he forced himself to settle back down, remembering that by the next morning, he would be back in his own body, in his own skin. The rest he would figure out after that.
If Malcolm was ever certain of anything in his life, it was that he would never use his Revenant power to leave his body again. Never. Not even if he somehow managed to regain his Light. His soul belonged in one place, and the hard lessons he’d learned since leaving Valenia would stick with him for as long as he lived.
Without warning, his thoughts reached back to the hamlet and the sound as his four fingers rolled onto the ground echoed in his mind. Malcolm shuddered and pushed the thought away. Soon it would be a distant memory, and this body, Eli’s body, would no longer torture him.
The rattle of a raven’s caw finally forced Malcolm to open his eyes. Tristan stood over him, his gaze shifting between Malcolm and Seren, both settled by the fire. “I hope you’ve had a good rest, because you’ll be going back to Valenia on your own,” Tristan said.
Seren sat up. “What are you going on about, Tristan?”
Tristan put his hands on his hips. “This place he’s taking us to, there are others there.”
“What do you mean, others?” Malcolm asked.
“There are other Dia in the fortress as we speak. Four of them, armed like they’re invading Troy.”
Malcolm jumped to his feet, a frosty hand gripping his heart. “They are inside Valenia?”
Tristan nodded. “This very moment. Seren and I are not walking into a trap. If you want your body back, you’re going to have to go in there yourself.”
Malcolm shot Seren a desperate look while a thousand thoughts raced through his mind. Who could be entering Valenia, and worse, what would happen to him if they discovered his lifeless corpse?
He didn’t wait a minute longer before taking off in a hobbled run.
“Malcolm,” Seren shouted, her voice trailing behind him.
“Let him go, Seren. This is not our battle,” Tristan called after them.
Soon Seren was at Malcolm’s side, running, while the raven flapped its dark wings overhead. Malcolm ignored the pain in his leg, ignored the burning of his lungs, and ran as fast as his twisted mortal limbs would take him. When he was nearly blind with exhaustion, and a mile of forest lay behind him, Seren grabbed his arm and pushed him forward, supporting his weight as the fortress came into view.
He stayed in the trees, and the closer he got, the more his heart began to race. When he was close enough, he hid behind a tree and peered around it.
Four horses grazed on the sloping green hill that led to Valenia, but no one tended them.
“Who could it be?” Seren whispered, her body pressed up behind him.
The raven settled on a branch above, cawed angrily, and glared down with golden eyes.
Malcolm tried to catch his breath; his lungs felt like they were filled with sand. “It’s them, the ones who imprisoned me,” he said, pointing. “That’s his horse. Corbin’s horse,” he huffed. “I’m done for.”
He tried to stay as still as the tree he hid behind, watching for someone to emerge, but his throat tightened with fear. Would they stay and guard the prison, or would they slay him on the spot? He couldn’t stop them. If they took his body, he would be forced to stay like this, a cripple, for the rest of his life. The thought nearly made him vomit.
As he contemplated the many possible fates that might befall him, he saw four men emerge onto the beach. Malcolm squinted and saw Corbin, storming through the sand up to his horse, followed by Drake and Barrett.
“They are all Dia,” Seren whispered in Malcolm’s ear.
“All of them?” Malcolm asked. He looked harder. Mara must have given them Light, just like he’d once done with Eli. Malcolm looked up to the raven. “You said there were four of them?”
The raven cawed again.
Malcolm looked back, wondering if Mara would be the next to appear. But he let out a startled gasp when he saw Ailwen, carrying his body.
“How did they get my body out without Mara to break the spell?” he whispered to himself, but then he realized it must have been the old one, Drake, who broke the spell. Now they were taking his body, and he might never find it again. Malcolm began to panic, but then it occurred to him—now he was free; free from the spell, and free to follow them.
Ailwen flung the body over the back of his horse. Malcolm winced and bit his knuckle.
“What are you going to do?” Seren whispered.
“Follow them,” Malcolm said.
Corbin mounted his horse and kicked it into a gallop ahead of the others, his face etched with anger. The others soon followed, but just as they passed the forest, coming dangerously close to Malcolm, Ailwen slowed, falling behind the others. His eyes swept over the trees. Malcolm held his breath, and just when he thought Ailwen had overlooked him, their eyes met. Malcolm’s heart beat so hard he thought it would implode. Ailwen was looking directly at him. And if he was a Dia, surely he could hear Malcolm’s frantic heart. There was a moment of stillness, their eyes still locked, and then for a split second, Malcolm saw Ailwen’s eyes shine like black marble, his lip curl into a smirk. Malcolm took in a breath, and Ailwen looked away, kicked his horse into a gallop and was gone.
“That was strange,” Seren said when they were safely alone.
“Indeed,” Malcolm mused. He stepped away from the tree and paced back and forth. He didn’t have much time to go after them. Soon they would be so far ahead he might never find them. He looked up at Tristan, sitting on the branch. “You have to help me follow them,” he begged.
Tristan jumped down and landed on his feet. “Out of the question. You saw them, they are ready for war. And if you’re their enemy, I’d rather not march into that battle.”
Seren looked in the direction the men had gone. “We will help you,” she said.
Tristan clenched his fists. “This is not our battle, Seren. We came to see Valenia, there it is.” He glared at Malcolm. “You wanted your body free from its prison, it’s done. We need not endanger ourselves for this fool. If there is a Dia who can take Light from others, I’ll not have us marching into her lair.”
Malcolm ignored him and turned to Seren, taking one of her hands in his only good hand. “Please. I will get my body back, and I will get my Light back, and when I do, the world is ours.”
“Seren!” Tristan yelled.
Seren glared at her brother a moment before saying, “If not for Malcolm, we might never have escaped that village and our mother. Whether you want to admit it or not, we owe him a great debt.” She softened her expression, but kept a firm tone. “With or without you, I am going.”
Malcolm watched the very subtle slump of Tristan’s shoulders, giving in to Seren’s demands. He then gave an exasperated sigh. “I will follow them. Head north.” Tristan’s body melted into the raven and he took flight.
Malcolm let out the breath he was holding. Hope was finally within his grasp. “Why do you let him speak to you that way? He is but a child, and if you are, as you say, fifty-three years old, you must be more like his mother than his sister.”
Seren laughed lightly. “It is not for me to manage him. Tristan is his own man. He is simply protective. But he
is also loyal. If I go with you, he goes with you.”
“Can I trust him to lead us?” Malcolm asked, looking up to the sky. “He loathes me, though I can’t understand why. You’d think he felt threatened by me.”
Seren smiled, revealing a dimple in her cheek. “Tristan and I look out for one another. We are connected by blood. You could say we are one in the same, at times.”
Malcolm nodded as they began to walk, wondering what that kind of bond felt like. “But why does he treat me as though I am a danger to him? Look at me.” Malcolm held up his mangled hand.
Seren reached for Malcolm’s good hand and laced her fingers with his. “Because you are a danger to him, and he knows it.”
Malcolm blinked, surprised by her flirtatious tone. The old Malcolm would have seized the opportunity to bed Seren, but now he was maimed, weary, and still unsure of her motivations. Her eyes were too wise, too cunning to be the naïve damsel she claimed to be. There was a plan in those amber eyes, Malcolm could see it; he just couldn’t fathom what that plan might be.
He pulled his hand from hers and lifted the hood of his cloak. “The last thing I need is a vengeful brother to worry about.”
This made Seren laugh. “I will protect you.”
“I don’t seek protection from women,” Malcolm said, hoping to put her off. “Even Mara won’t be able to protect her Dia when I’m through with them.” He heard the deception in his own voice, but forced himself to believe it anyway.
Seren’s eyes lit up. “So that’s her name. Mara?”
Malcolm’s shoulders tensed. He stopped walking and gripped Seren’s shoulder as hard as he could. She looked amused instead of hurt. “Don’t repeat that name in my presence again,” he said as he seethed.
Seren smirked and jerked her arm free in a show of strength. “As you wish.”
They continued on in tense silence. Malcolm’s mind whirled with thoughts. He had no plan. All he had was hope. Perhaps his mother had found them, and if not, perhaps she would find him soon enough. There was no way he was going to get his Light back on his own. He was going to need some powerful intervention if he was ever going to succeed.
The Embers of Light Page 16