The Embers of Light

by Tammy Farrell

  “Fire cleanses, you see. Purifies,” Kain said, the ominous smile now plastered on his face. “And vanquishes.”

  Mara pushed back the angry tears in her eyes. “You cannot take this power from me,” she said through gritted teeth. “I know, as the true Keeper, I am protected. My Light is strong now. I am not the girl I once was.” She said the words with conviction, but doubt started to creep through her. Was she strong now? Was she more than the girl who’d run from her village? Or was she about to watch more people she loved burn?

  Malcolm got to his feet and brushed himself off. “Give me my Light back! Give us what we want, and we will let you go.”

  Let her go? So she could run again? Run away from the fire? Not this time. Mara pressed her lips together and stiffened like an ancient oak. “Never,” she said as the image of Corbin in the flames taunted her. She turned to him, his face still hardened with anger and courage, and looked on the scene before her. There were few options to choose from.

  In a breath, Mara raced over to Corbin and stood next to the pillar of fire. “If you mean to kill them, I will turn myself to ash faster than you can blink!” she raged. “The stone will perish and the Keeper’s Light will vanish before your eyes.” She balled her fists and glared at Kain. “And if I die, your son will die with me.”

  Kain tilted his head indifferently. “Do you think I don’t know about the curse, dear? Your soul is bound to Malcolm because of the exchange of power. Who do you think created it?” he shook his head and clicked his tongue. “You really are a fool of a girl. A stupid fool of a girl.”

  “Don’t test my courage,” Mara said, stepping closer to the flames.

  “How very courageous, indeed,” Kain said. “But you misjudge me. Do you think I care whether Malcolm dies? We are but strangers to one another. His wants have nothing to do with mine.”

  Malcolm’s face fell as he gaped at Kain, his eyes narrow.

  “Although,” Kain said, “giving Malcolm his Light back would be to your advantage. It’s the only way to break the bond of souls. Restore the imbalance, and the souls are untied.”

  Mara looked at Corbin through the curtain of flames.

  “Don’t do it, Mara,” he said with a hard stare. “Give them nothing.”

  Mara nodded and moved so close to the fire, the folds of her skirt began to singe. “We will all burn before I give in to you.”

  Daria slanted her head with a sympathetic pout that looked so much like Annora. “You will take your little Isa into the flames, too?” She regarded Mara with a devious smile. “Moorthrop is not so far away. I’m sure little Isa would be thrilled to see her beloved Annora again.

  Mara’s heart sank to the pit of her stomach. Isa had died once because of her. She couldn’t let it happen again. In one swift move, they’d toppled her determination and brought her to her knees. She took a step away from the flames.

  “Mara!” Corbin shouted.

  Mara hung her head. Neither her death nor her life would save any of them. Her only chance was to give Kain and Malcolm what they wanted. Once again Malcolm had won, forcing her to give in. She let out a long breath. “What am I to do?” she whispered to herself.

  A victorious smile spread across Malcolm’s face, making Mara ill.

  “I think we may have hit the mark, darling,” Kain said to Daria.

  “Mara, no!” Corbin shouted over the flames. “Mara,” he called out desperately.

  She looked back at him with her palms up. “I’m sorry, my love. I can’t let Isa die again.”

  Corbin nodded, his expression sure. “Isa is not in Moorthrop,” he whispered. “Do you understand me? She is not in Moorthrop. I told Barrett and Gareth to get Helen from Moorthrop and take them somewhere else.” He nodded, his eyes wide. “Don’t give in to them. They will never find her.”

  Mara pressed her lips together, her heart lifting slightly. She nodded in response and turned back to Kain. “No. Kill them if you must, but I will go with them. You’ll not get this stone from me, and your son will die with a mortal’s heart.” She smiled slightly as Kain’s expression of delight faded.

  He looked away for a moment. “Very well, my queen. You can refuse for now, but you will relent. Even if it takes centuries, I will toy with your mind until your will is as firm as butter.”

  Mara summoned her Light, preparing to bring him to the flames with her, when her body stiffened and an all-consuming agony enclosed its vicious arms around her. She grabbed the sides of her head, unable to stop the torturous shrill in her mind as every tendon in her body pulsed so painfully she thought she was coming apart inch by inch.

  She could hear Corbin and Drake shouting, but their voices were muffled as though they were under water. And when she opened her eyes, the air was like acid. She squeezed them closed and willed her Light to protect her, to stop the unrelenting pain. But Kain’s power was within her, twisting her mind like a torrent of madness. She had to make it stop. She thought it over and over, begging her Light to protect her, when suddenly she felt it rise up, driving away the pain, swathing her in transcendent warmth just before she gave in to it, closed her eyes, and lost all consciousness.

  Malcolm was sore in every muscle of his body. Corbin’s attack had left him black and blue. While he’d not broken any bones, the unforgiving bruises rising to the surface of his skin made him feel like a side of battered meat.

  He couldn’t believe how poorly things had gone for him, and was still in shock that Mara had refused to give him his Light. That was the last thing he’d expected, given how pliable she’d once been. It seemed the passing years had changed her, made her stronger. She’d had too much time to come to grips with her power, while Malcolm rotted away.

  Back at Valenia, when Malcolm had taken her Light, she didn’t know how to use her power, didn’t know how to protect herself. But now her Light created an iron fortress around her. Not even Kain could simply take the Ruler’s stone from her. It was hers by right, protected by the gods. If Kain was going to get it, she would have to hand it over, or he would have to kill her.

  Malcolm winced as he shifted on the soft chair.

  The private chamber behind the throne room was his sanctuary at the moment, far from the sanctimonious glare of his father. He clenched his teeth so hard his head hurt. How could his father bait him like that—make him believe he would get his Light back and then throw him to the wolves? Malcolm’s life was nothing to him, a mere consequence of procreation.

  Or so it seemed.

  Could his father have been bluffing, trying to take away any chance Mara might have to fight back? Malcolm shook his head at himself. What did it matter? The humiliation he’d felt in front of Seren and Tristan, and the look of defiance in Mara’s eyes made him shiver with anger. This was not how he’d imagined reuniting with Mara and Corbin. Not at all.

  But the more he thought on it, the more he realized it wasn’t seeing Mara and the bastard Corbin that had him so vexed. It was Kain. Kain’s condemnations, Kain’s ridicule, and Kain’s complete dismissal of him made his blood turn to lava in his veins.

  With a grunt, Malcolm got to his feet and shuffled to the empty throne room. He eyed the golden ring in the floor, grabbed a torch from the dais and lifted the hatch. He quivered as he looked through the darkness; the dank, musty smell of the vault bringing him back to the underground slave keep, and the long weeks he’d spent there. He took in a sharp breath. The torchlight danced as he descended the first step, and each one after it, bringing the noose tighter around his neck.

  He willed himself to breathe. This was a prison for Dia, this was not Bram’s earthen dungeon. He was not meant to be contained within its solid walls.

  The torch flame shrunk down to a small globe of fire as the air thinned, and when Malcolm came to the door that led to the main chamber, he put his hand on the latch and stilled, wondering why he was so afraid. The fear gripped him so tightly he could barely take in a full breath, and his mind flashed images of the soil, and the sp
iders, and the twisted branch of his leg. Malcolm held the torch lower to make sure his leg was fine, his fingers still there. He was himself. Light or no Light, he was still himself.

  He swallowed hard and opened the door.

  Even in his mortal form, he felt the tremor of magic as he crossed the threshold. He made sure to leave the door open and held the torch up, moving it from left to right. Eli’s body was still on the floor, already starting to give off a stench, and Mara was curled in the corner, her hair a curtain over her face, and her hands bound in front of her. Corbin and Drake were held in barred stable-like enclosures off the main chamber, with thick iron locks on the doors. They were completely powerless here, and even if they did manage to break free from the stalls, the vault door was impassable.

  The two men looked at him through the bars, their faces grave, their eyes dark. For the moment, in this shadowy vault beneath the mountain, the balance of power between them had been leveled.

  Corbin rose, grasped the bars and pressed his forehead to them, silently scowling at Malcolm as though looks could kill. Malcolm returned the gaze with equal measure and turned the torch to him. “You would be dead now if it were up to me.”

  Corbin’s lip curled, his savage eyes fixed. “I could say the same,” he hissed.

  Malcolm nodded with a tilt of his head. “You could spend a century down here, you know. Kain will keep you as long as it takes to get what he wants.”

  “So long as you suffer your mortal existence, I would wait an eternity,” Corbin said.

  “And what about her?” he asked, motioning to Mara. “Would you watch her suffer an eternity? Kain has the power to control her thoughts, play with her mind. What Dia have you ever known to possess such a power—a power that can bring down a Keeper?”

  Corbin’s gaze drifted to Mara, and for a moment, his face melted with sorrow. “She will fight it,” he said. “She will find a way to fight it.”

  Malcolm shook his head reproachfully. “You’re an idiot, Corbin. You’re supposed to be her guardian. What have you protected her from? The enemy lived right under your nose, and again you waited until it was too late to act. Your ability for foresight is seriously flawed.”

  Corbin’s face reddened. “There only seems to be one bloodline I need to be wary of. I see that now.” He narrowed his eyes. “Though, from what I see, your kin are less than eager to assist you. It must be difficult—to know your father doesn’t care whether you live or die.” A hard smile stretched across his lips.

  Malcolm kept his expression even despite the rage brewing inside him. “No worse than finding out your father is a traitor, I suppose?”

  Drake lifted his eyes. “I am no traitor, Malcolm. You will see who the real traitor is. Your father is loyal to no one, to nothing. He will burn you just to save himself. It’s only a matter of time.”

  Malcolm shook his head in spite of his own reservations and turned his attention to Mara.

  As he took a step closer, Corbin violently shook the bars of his cell. “Stay away from her, Malcolm, or I swear to the gods I will break through these bars and rip you to pieces!”

  Malcolm glanced back, wondering if Corbin actually could get through the bars. “But then you’d kill your beloved,” he said, bending down and hooking a finger under her chin. He turned her head from side to side and then released her. “She’s really in a bad way. I wonder how long she can endure Kain’s attacks.” Malcolm turned to Corbin with a smile, savoring the defeat on his face.

  “I swear to the gods—” Corbin stopped himself, looked down, and took in several controlled breaths. Then he looked up, his expression more obliging. “Let us free, Malcolm,” he said in a more subdued tone. “Let us out. It’s the only way for her to fight him. She has no power in this place. If you ever wanted to make peace for your wrongs, then this is the way to do it.”

  Malcolm bristled, listening to the same pleas he’d been forced to make as Bram’s captive, and his body began to shake. “You suggest I let you out,” he began, “only for you to kill me?”

  Corbin shook his head. “You have my word that if you release us, your life will be your own.”

  Malcolm thrust the torch closer. “And my Light?”

  Corbin’s knuckles went white as he squeezed the bars, his rage so close to the surface, Malcolm could almost touch it.

  “Your life,” he said through gritted teeth. “I can promise you your life. No prisons, no spells. You will be free to live as you are.”

  Malcolm considered it for only a moment. While life as a free mortal was better than life as a caged mortal, he couldn’t accept it. He was born a Dia, and he would die a Dia. Mara would give in sooner or later. He just has to find a way to convince her.

  Malcolm shook his head and turned to the door. “That is not a deal I am willing to make. You can rot down here for all I care. You can rot the same way you left me to rot.” He stopped with his hand on the wall at the door. “I hope there aren’t too many spiders down here. They can be quite bothersome in the dark.”

  Malcolm closed the door and let out a long anxious breath as he ran a hand through his hair. Being a mortal was making him soft. It had taken every ounce of his will to keep his hands steady. The memories of his imprisonment were far too near in his mind to give him peace, and even though he loathed Corbin and had dreamed of seeing him suffer more times than he could count, there was something about that dark cell that seemed too cruel even for Malcolm.

  He tried to push the thoughts away as he marched back down the corridor, and when he reached the top of the steps, voices caught his ear. He stopped and listened; it was his mother and Kain, their voices hushed.

  “That girl is a disgrace,” Daria said. “The Teg are not our kind.”

  “Are you bothered by her, darling?” Kain asked cynically.

  “No more than you should be,” she said. “What do we need them here for anyway? Send them away, the both of them.”

  “What do you have to fear from a Seiren and a Raven, my dear? They may come in useful. Why don’t we send Malcolm away? He is more of a disgrace than our little Welsh vixen and her fowl. Malcolm is mortal. He no longer has a place among Dia.”

  Malcolm dug his fingers into his palms and bit his lip.

  “He is our son, Kain. Your son. I think you’re just envious that he got closer to the power than you ever did.”

  Kain grunted. “He had his hand on the world for a moment and he let it go. He will fail us again if we give him the chance.”

  “Or,” Daria said, “is it that you’re threatened by him? He succeeded in doing what you couldn’t. He knows that Keeper better than anyone. Maybe you’re worried he will be the victor instead of you.”

  Kain laughed. “Don’t be ridiculous. The years of wandering in spirit have clouded your mind, Daria. Don’t think you can overstep your bounds with me so easily. Malcolm will give us the answers we need to break Mara, and when he does, I care not what you do with him.”

  There was a moment of silence and Malcolm held his breath, fearful they would discover him eavesdropping, but then he heard footsteps leaving the room. Shaking from top to bottom, he waited until he was sure they were gone, made his way to the top of the stairs, and closed the hatch. He stood there a minute, staring up at the two magnificent thrones, feeling like someone had just punched him in the gut.

  There was no father for him in this place, and his mother was simply a minion whose loyalty to her beloved would outweigh any bond with her son.

  Malcolm clenched his teeth and stormed into the chamber behind the throne.

  Seren turned to greet him. “There you are,” she said. “I’ve been looking for you.”

  Her amber eyes widened as Malcolm charged at her, wrapped a hand around her waist, and crushed his mouth to hers. His body shook with rage and passion. He wanted to feel strong. He wanted to feel powerful. He wanted to get lost in the only person who’d showed him any concern.

  He wanted to feel in control.

  Se
ren bent like a windblown flower as he clutched her, his tongue overpowering hers. And taking her head in his hands, he grasped fistfuls of her hair, causing her to emit a quick grunt of pleasure. She was moldable in his commanding grip, bending and twisting however he wanted her to move.

  Malcolm took a step back, panting, his eyes as sharp as spears, his mind clouded with feral passion. As he lifted his shirt over his head and tossed it to the floor, a shameless smile spanned Seren’s lips. There was no need for her magic now. Malcolm was flooded with hatred and lust, envy and despair. He lunged for her again, using all of his weight to force her back onto the cushioned settee, and pinned her arms above her head.

  “Malcolm,” she breathed. “I—”

  Malcolm forced her silence with a kiss and seized one of her breasts in his hand. She writhed beneath him, and cried out when he twisted the delicate nipple between his fingers.

  This was the most power he’d felt in ages, the vigor of passion all but forgotten until now. In this moment he was simply a man with needs, and Seren was the one to fulfill them. He kissed her viciously, ravaged her, and pinched her until he thought the thrill of it might cause him to burst into flames. And then he lifted her skirt, pulled down his trousers and drove into her, sheathing himself to the root.

  He gripped her shoulders, striking over and over again with merciless thrusts, the desire and fury within him mingling until one burning emotion remained; one that he could neither loathe nor deny. He was a mindless animal, driven by instinct as her entire body convulsed, her breaths escaping in moans and gasps. Malcolm amplified his attack as she quivered, pressing her wandering hands above her head again. He thrust harder and faster, as though penetrating her to the core would give him his power, give him his dignity, give him his life back. And when he finally cried out, his body letting go of all the tension, she cried out with him, her arms pulling all of his weight onto her until they both panted like dogs.

  Beads of sweat dripped down his head and pooled on his back. He let his head fall into the crook of her neck as he tried to catch his breath.