Mara traveled through the great hall in no hurry, grateful for her clear mind. The ache in her head and the ringing in her ears had finally stopped and when she laid to rest the night before, sleep found her and she didn’t wake until nearly dusk the next day. The only thing missing, the only thing that could complete her sense of ease was Corbin’s return. Mara forced herself not to think about where he’d gone or why, only that soon he would be back in her arms.
She walked past the gilded throne and through the towering doorway of the private chamber. Isa sat near the large open window, dragging string along the ground for her kitten to chase.
“You look well,” Annora said with a smile, adjusting the large manuscript on her lap. “I was going to bring you some broth. I wasn’t sure if you were still unwell.”
Gareth looked up from the text in front of him. “She looks right as rain to me.”
Mara gave an appreciative nod. “Much better, I dare say.” She motioned towards the pile of texts. “How goes the reading?”
Gareth shook his head with a furrowed brow. “I can’t make hide nor tail of it.” He looked up, a little embarrassed.
Mara offered a reassuring smile. Gareth had been a farmer’s son before joining the guard. And in both professions, literacy was but a vain pursuit. “Neither can I most of the time,” she said to be kind. She folded her skirts, knelt down in front of the pile of texts, and frowned. She’d hoped they would contain some answers to Ailwen’s strange transformation, or at least some account of mortals made Dia. But so far there was nothing. Then she felt a lump in her throat, recalling the peculiar way in which Ailwen took the Light. There was an unmistakable sense of dread that had washed over her then, and even now, though she felt her strength returned to her, she couldn’t shake it.
Annora stared at her, the little star beneath her eye crinkling with concern. “What’s the matter?”
Mara shook her head. “I don’t like where they’ve gone.”
Annora bit her lip. “I know,” she said. “I don’t like it either. But you needn’t worry.” She rubbed Mara’s arm to comfort her. “They are all Dia now. If there was ever a time to be assured, I think it’s now.”
Mara nodded, wishing she felt as certain. She shifted a little closer to Annora, making sure Gareth was distracted with the texts. “How have you felt since the transformation?”
Annora’s sapphire eyes glistened. “Wonderful. I know my magic is still subdued because of my age, but it’s stronger than I thought it would be.”
Mara looked off. “And what about Ailwen? Have you noticed anything different about him? Other than his obvious strength?” Her tone was even, almost casual, but the weight of the question made her heart quicken.
Annora shook her head, oblivious to the undertone of the question. “He is as kind as ever,” she said cheerily. “He even talks of marriage.” A broad smile lit her face. “It must have been the wedding in Silver River that moved him so.”
Mara nodded thoughtfully, wondering if Annora might be too young for such things. “Don’t you think it’s a bit soon for that?” she said with caution.
“Oh, no,” Annora protested. “We are deeply in love.”
There was an unbridled fervor in Annora’s voice that made Mara envious. If only she could be as enthusiastic and hopeful with youth. “Yes,” Mara said with a mollifying smile, “but both of you are meant to live a great many lifetimes. Is there any harm in waiting a while longer?”
Mara’s attempt at a gentle reproach did not go over well with Annora, whose glowing face turned to a frown. “You and Corbin didn’t wait. You might as well be married. And besides, you are but a few years older than me. Why does it concern you?”
Mara softened under Annora’s childlike glare. She was right. While Annora bore the countenance of a gilded cherub, in the mortal world she was of marrying age. “You’re right,” she said. “I’m sorry. I know what it’s like to be so in love.”
Annora glanced at Gareth and Isa. Both were paying them no mind. She leaned a little closer. “We’ve given ourselves to one another.” Her cheeks flushed.
“Have you?” Mara asked, a little surprised.
Annora nodded. “He came to me the night before we were reborn as Dia.” She put her finger to her lips bashfully and then dropped them in her lap. “Oh, Mara, he was so gentle and kind. I didn’t know men could be so—” She paused, looking for the word. “Tender.”
“That’s wonderful,” Mara said evenly. “Has this happened many times?”
“No,” Annora said with a little frown. “Just the once.” Her face darkened a little. “I’d wondered if perhaps the transformation had turned him off of me. He never comes to my door now. At first I worried it was something I’d done wrong. After all, I’m sure he’s been with far more experienced women.” Her cheeks flushed again, only this time she looked a little sad. “But he treats me so well, and still talks of marriage.” She turned to the open window. “Perhaps it’s because he thinks it improper for us to couple before we are wed.”
Mara pursed her lips into a little smile and took Annora’s hand. “That must be it, Annora. Corbin has always spoken of Ailwen with the highest regard. If he wants you as his bride, I think he will be a wonderful husband.” Mara felt her voice stutter unexpectedly with doubt, but Annora didn’t seem to notice.
“And perhaps we should have another wedding for you and Corbin,” Annora said, loud enough to get Gareth’s attention. He looked up but said nothing.
“I don’t think so,” Mara said. “Corbin and I are bound together by the gods. We don’t need a ceremony to prove our devotion.”
“Very well,” Annora said with a dismissive wave. “But you may yet change your mind once you see Ailwen and I become husband and wife.”
Mara smirked. “Perhaps.”
The room had darkened with the night sky. Mara snapped her fingers and all the candles in the room burst with flame. Isa gave a start and then smiled, never bored of the little trick.
Getting to her feet, Mara joined Isa near the window and scratched the kitten’s head. It purred in Isa’s lap contentedly.
“I think it’s time you were off to bed, little one,” Mara said.
Isa pouted, tightening her hold on the kitten. “But why?”
Mara gave Isa’s nose a light pinch. “Because you are little girl, and little girls need their sleep.”
Isa shook her head. “I am no little girl. I am a Dia, just like you. I don’t need sleep.”
Mara put her hands on her hips and smiled. “Then you are a little Dia, and little Dia need their sleep, too.” She held out her hand and Isa reluctantly took it to follow her down the corridor to the chamber hall.
Once Mara had Isa in her nightdress and pulled the coverlet up to her chin, she kissed her forehead.
“Why are you looking through all those books?” Isa asked.
“We are reading about those that came before us. They are called our ancestors.”
Isa repeated the word. “They are stories, then?”
“Yes,” Mara said, brushing the wild hair from Isa’s face. “They are just like stories.”
“Will you read me one sometime?” Isa asked with a yawn.
“Yes, of course.” Mara got to her feet and moved toward the door. “But it’s late for you, little Dia. Close your eyes and I will see you in the morning.”
As soon as Mara shut the door, she felt the familiar rush of Corbin’s energy near, like a subtle vibration beneath her skin. She ran through the darkened hallways until she got to the entrance door and stood beneath the canopy of stone, scanning the mountain for him. The flurry of trepidation rose in her stomach. His return was sooner than the two dawns he’d promised. She bit her bottom lip and, with watchful eyes, waited for him to appear. He finally emerged on the path, marching up the mountain.
He was alone.
She couldn’t stand to wait another second and raced down the mountain. He looked up, his expression flat until she jumped into h
is arms.
“I’ve missed you,” Mara said, taking a moment to linger with her body pressed to his, letting the vibration soothe her.
“As have I,” Corbin said.
She let go and looked into his eyes. Now she saw the telling stare that made her skin prickle. “What is it?” she asked.
Corbin put a hand on her cheek and looked her over. “How are you feeling? You look much better than when I left you.”
Mara clutched his hand and brought it down. “I am better, now that you’re here. But tell me, please, what did you find at Valenia?”
His hesitation only made her more anxious, and each time he moved to speak, the words seemed to catch on his lips.
Mara realized she looked too fragile, her eyes too worried, so she straightened her back and hardened her stare, trying to appear stoic despite the tremble in her hand.
“Was he at Valenia?” Mara asked, avoiding the mention of his name.
Corbin opened his mouth but paused. “Yes…and no,” he finally said.
“What do you mean? Tell me, Corbin.”
Corbin took her hand and motioned for her to sit on the rock. He stood in front of her and began. “His body was there, laid out like a corpse. But his spirit has gone.”
Mara’s throat wrenched closed for a moment and she couldn’t swallow. “And Eli?”
“Gone,” Corbin said. “Not a trace of him in sight.”
Mara pressed her hands to her thighs to steady herself. “A Revenant,” she whispered, looking down the mountain.
“You know of them?” Corbin asked. He moved closer, his eyes fixed on her as though he might need to catch her.
Mara nodded. “In the texts. I read about them yesterday.”
“And what does it say?” Corbin asked.
Mara took in a breath, still not believing that her captive had escaped. But then she recalled what she’d read, and felt a small measure of relief. “They are nothing without their bodies, merely ghosts.”
“But if they inhabit another?” Corbin said.
“They have no power. Revenants can take mortal forms. They can possess a Dia, but that Dia’s Light would have to be incredibly weak.” Mara let out a sigh, deep enough so that it felt like chains were being loosened around her chest. “I wish I’d known this sooner,” she said. “In spirit, he is nothing to us, he will harm no one but himself.”
“And Ailwen?” Corbin said. “What do you think of him?”
Mara shook her head and closed her eyes against the night. “Our Dia are too strong. At least we know Ailwen’s not possessed by him. Of that I am sure.”
Corbin nodded and lifted her chin, forcing her to look up. His pure blue eyes engulfed her in their beauty. “We took his body from Valenia. I asked the others to fall back, to give me time to tell you what’s happened,” he said gently.
Mara nodded, the knot in her stomach loosening at Corbin’s proximity. She pulled him in by his rigid arms so that his firmness pressed her against the rock. “How long until they arrive?”
Corbin watched her thoughtfully. “Dawn.”
She nodded in acceptance of what was to come back into her world by sunup; the form of the being she hated most on earth. This was her last moment without it near; her last moment when she felt strong, her will yet unshaken. Corbin tilted his head to look at her, outwardly amazed that she hadn’t collapsed like a castle of sand.
Mara raised a brow at him. “You need to stop looking at me like that.”
The corner of his lip curled up. “Like what?” he asked, his voice low and raspy.
“Like I’m breakable,” Mara said, leaning closer so that their lips were only a breath apart. “Have you seen me break, Corbin? Have you seen me falter?”
“No,” he said, his eyes hooded as he looked down on her. “But what am I to do? You are the Keeper and I am your guardian. I am meant to protect you. But you insist you don’t need protecting. I’m beginning to think the only thing you are keeping is me.”
Mara nodded “I would say that’s a fair assessment, Corbin North.” She let her hand rest in the center of his broad chest. “And as the guardian, perhaps you are meant to be kept.”
Corbin let out a quick laugh, his expression finally brightening, and he bent down to claim her mouth with his own. He placed his hands on the sides of her face, holding her there until he was ready to draw back. “You are a strange sort, Mara Black. A strange sort, indeed.”
“And why is that?” Mara asked.
“You are no damsel, my dear.”
Mara leaned in and rested her head on his shoulder. “I know.” Her eyes drifted down the mountain and she closed them, not wanting to look into the dark. “Come,” she said, taking Corbin by the hand and leading him into Ayrith. “Let’s make the most of the hours before dawn.”
Corbin was alone when he woke. He hadn’t intended to sleep, or rather it seemed, Mara hadn’t intended to let him sleep. But his frantic travel back to Ayrith followed by Mara’s fervent need of him had Corbin exhausted, and his eyes closed of their own accord.
He splashed cold water on his face, dressed quickly, and hurried to the entrance hall where the doors stood open with Mara leaning on the wall.
Morning light spilled onto the gray marble floor, edging towards the feet of the Dia effigies. Corbin eyed them cautiously, still rubbing sleep from his eyes. He didn’t like the stone Dia, with their hard expressions and roving eyes. No matter which way he stepped, they followed him with their vigilant stares.
He came up behind Mara and put his hands on her shoulders.
“They are here,” she said distractedly. “Coming up the pass.”
Not more than a minute later, Ailwen, Barrett, and Drake marched up the path with Malcolm’s wrapped body slung over Drake’s shoulder. Corbin felt Mara’s body tense under his hands and the shiver of her energy turned to needles on his skin. In silence, they waited for the ominous procession, neither of them taking a breath until the men were on the threshold of Ayrith.
Drake set Malcolm’s body down on the floor.
“Unwrap him,” Mara said without a word of greeting.
Drake looked from Corbin to Mara. “I don’t think that’s a good—“
“Please,” Mara said firmly. “I want to see him in the flesh.”
Drake nodded, bent down to loosen the cords around the sack, and pulled them free.
Mara took in a quiet breath, put the back of her hand to her lips, and moved closer. Corbin watched her, expressionless as she examined the body. She tilted her head from side to side, until finally, she straightened and the flame in her stare went out. Corbin thought he saw her face twitch.
“Thank you,” she said to the men, her gaze lingering a moment on Ailwen. “But what shall we do with him?”
Drake removed his gloves. “The vault.”
Mara nodded.
Barrett took the order and picked up Malcolm without effort, hoisted him over his shoulder and headed with Ailwen for the vault beneath the throne room. When he’d gone, Mara turned to Drake. “You had no trouble breaking the spell?”
“None, dear.” He put an affectionate hand on her arm. “You know we couldn’t leave him there?”
“Yes, of course,” she said. “This is the best outcome, is it not? Let him rot in mortal flesh while his body rests beneath us.” She spoke the words as though uttering a curse.
“I think you’re right about that,” Drake said gently.
Corbin couldn’t read her expression, but watched as Mara’s hands clenched and unclenched, and then rose to her temples.
“Are you all right?” he asked, alarmed by her sudden shift.
“Yes. Yes,” she said. “I’m upset, of course. If you’ll excuse me, I need some time alone.” She brushed past Corbin and Drake before they had a chance to say any more.
Corbin looked after her. “I don’t understand her. She changes like the wind.”
Drake put a hand on Corbin’s shoulder. “She is the wind, son. This is not the gir
l you met in the forest. Her power is strong and right now, her suffering is stronger. Be gentle with her, as you’ve always been. Time will bring her back to you.”
Corbin nodded. “Gods know we’ve got plenty of that.”
“Have you told her?” Drake asked.
Corbin shook his head. “Not yet. I will.”
“Good,” Drake said. “I suppose the others will rise soon. I shall go wash up.”
“Yes, of course,” Corbin said, heading into the throne room.
The entry to the vault sat directly in front of the gilded thrones. Barrett and Ailwen waited for Corbin to open the latch, hiding within the stone floor. He held the door open for the men and followed them in. Down a set of uneven steps, the long corridor was so black only preternatural eyes could navigate its winding curves and jagged ground. Corbin followed without thought until they reached the entry.
Ailwen lifted an unlit torch from the wall just before the doorway of the chamber and it burst into flames, sizzling at the tip with momentary black fire. Ailwen smiled in the firelight.
Corbin halted and his breath caught in his throat. Fire. Ailwen can make fire. Corbin cast his eyes down, not wanting to reveal his shock. Only Mara could control the elements, the weather…fire. And now it seemed that affecting the weather was not Ailwen’s only gift.
Taking a moment to gather his thoughts, Corbin stepped into the vault, giving Ailwen no hint of suspicion. Barrett set Malcolm’s body down on a stone slab. Corbin gritted his teeth at the sight of his one-time brother who was now his eternal enemy. There was not an intimation of life in Malcolm as he lay like a waxen image of death. It made Corbin shake with anger. “This will be your tomb now,” he whispered to Malcolm. As he stood, he could feel Ailwen’s eyes on him and a chill ran up his spine.
“There’ll be no getting out of here,” Barrett said, seemingly unaware of the tension in the room.
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