Spellkeeper

by Courtney Privett

  Nylian glanced down at the copper dragon, as if previously unaware that he carried the small beast. “Caedron has brought you a gift, but you will not receive it until you accept my lesson.”

  “And what is it you want to teach me? How many days will you steal from my memory this time? I don't think there is anything you could teach me that I want to know,” Shan growled.

  Nylian tilted his head and ran a finger between Caedron's wings. “I need to teach you about lightbinding.”

  “Why? I'm doing fine teaching myself.”

  Nylian kept his eyes fixed on Caedron as he shook his head. “No, Shannon. You are not. You already revealed that when you revived Lumin. I need to teach you about the strengths and limits of our shared skill before you hurt yourself or someone else.”

  “What do you care if I hurt anyone?” Shan asked. His head spun as the sting in his hip intensified to a scald.

  “I care.” Nylian looked up at Marita and nodded. “You may join us. It will lessen your worry if you see that my lesson will bring him no pain. Shannon, I have allowed you time to adjust to the horror of losing Lumin, but you have taken to using your lightbinding skill to create malicious objects and that must end. You have enchanted spoons to gather and embed themselves in the kitchen walls to spell out colorful profanities, manipulated books into biting their readers, and caused the stairs within view of your doorway to turn into into slides once stepped upon. I fear your experimentation will hurt your wife or the children who live within these Halls.”

  Shan winced as he shifted closer to Marita. “Fine. I've . . . I've hurt enough people already. I don't want to hurt anyone else. Teach me. But don't make me walk far, and I can't sit down properly so don't expect that.”

  “I do not intend to take you from this suite. If it pains you less, you may lie on your bed.”

  Shan bit the inside of his cheek as the pain flared further. “Yeah, I'll do that. Pull up a chair and say what you have to say. Marita, don't leave me alone with him.”

  “I don't intend to,” she said.

  Once Shan was settled on the bed with Marita cuddled up behind him, Nylian dragged an upholstered chair from the corner to the bedside. Caedron leapt off the High King's arm and perched upon the dresser behind him. The cat-sized copper dragon was an even more unwelcome presence than Nylian. He looked nothing like Lumin, but he was still a bound dragon, live and healthy with functional wings intact.

  Nylian folded his hands over his lap and stared at Shan with a touch of apprehension in his turquoise eyes. “Lightbinder witches do not typically reveal their secrets to those without the skill, so I ask that neither of you ever reveal what I speak today, especially where it concerns my parentage.”

  “Your what?” Shan asked, confused.

  Nylian's eyebrows knit as he looked down at his hands. “Lightbinding is a hereditary magic, found only in a small number of family lines. Even within those families, it is sporadic, showing up only once or twice every few generations. You are unique in that you are magic-skilled as both a warlock and a lightbinder witch. It has taken me some time to figure out why. I thought at first that it was because as the Eclipse Spellkeeper you are simply of higher aptitude than other magic users, but that made little sense once I recognized the nature of your opposing skills. To figure you out, I had to acknowledge something I had kept hidden from my own memory.

  “The Nightshadow family practiced intentional marriages and matings in the same way they bred their dragons. They created a family line of warlocks, and any child born without shadow magic was cast aside. Your father was an exception, but only because he was necessary to maintain his father's line.”

  Shan adjusted the position of his head on the pillow and sighed. “No. He wasn't an exception. Ranalae cast him aside as soon as he was born. She wanted nothing to do with him. He told me he remembered being about four years old and screaming because he didn't know who the strange woman trying to take him away from his nurse was. He didn't think he'd ever met her before. Ranalae herself told me the only reason she acknowledged my father at all was because her visibility as Daelon's wife left her no choice.”

  Nylian continued to stare at his hands. “Ranalae's views on most subjects were shameful, but the worst was her mistreatment of dragons and of her own child.” His chin snapped upward and his eyes settled on Marita. “This is not part of what I want to teach you today. I will continue.”

  “Do what you damned well want,” Shan muttered. Marita's fingers walked up his shoulder and came to rest at the nape of his neck.

  “The Lightborns also cultivated magic skill within their line,” Nylian continued. “My mother's ancestry consisted of mostly witches, with a few warlocks and mages depending on which other highborn families married into ours. My family is not like the Nightshadows, however. We do not cast out children born without magic-skill. Two of my own children are not magic-skilled. Most of the others are green witches. Nyssandrian is a mage. None of my children are lightbinders. But you are, and you inherited it from me, and possibly from my sister Nyra. She was not a lightbinder, but our father was.”

  “King Consort Nyrantor was a lightbinder?” Shan asked. He searched his memory for any reference to the magic-skill of Nylian's father, and what he found was quite specific. “He was a green witch and your mother was a warlock. High Queen Kyriana married him after they worked together to restore the forests of the Mordova Mountains after wildfires devastated them. We learned that in school. Everyone knows he was a green witch.”

  Nylian shook his head and returned his attention to his folded hands. “Nyrantor was not my father. He was the father of my brothers, Kyrandian and Nyshan, and he lived to his death believing that Nyra and I were also his children.”

  “But you weren't?” Shan asked. He reached back and laced his fingers through Marita's. “Who was your father if not Nyrantor?”

  “Argenor Emberflight, the royal lightbinder witch who had worked for my family for two generations. Just before she died, my mother told me that my sister and I were the results of an affair. I do not believe she meant to tell me, but her psychosis had become severe and I had to keep her confined to her residence so she did not reveal the secrets of the kingdom to everyone she came into contact with. She was honest about everything else she said to me, so I do not doubt she correctly revealed my paternity.”

  “Oh. Ohhh...” Realization swept over Shan and left him gasping. “That's why the Moonlight Guardian gave you the deepwater dragon. It wasn't about you. It was about your mother. Lorra Zephyrain wanted to punish your mother for having an affair with her husband without revealing that she knew, so she gave you Keersa to shorten your life and claimed it was a mistake.”

  “That is what I believe,” Nylian said with a sharp nod. “The Guardian had only sons with Argenor. She needed a daughter to continue her line, so after her exile she married again and gave birth to Lyssandra's mother, Kaedra.”

  “And after your mother died, you brought the estranged lines back together by marrying Lyssandra.”

  Nylian shook his head. “No. I married Lyssandra because I fell in love with her. Her title and ancestry were irrelevant, and her mother nearly disowned her after learning that the next heir to the Moonlight Guardianship would also be a Lightborn. Kaedra didn't live long enough to meet her granddaughters.”

  “Did you have the wings when you married her?” Shan asked.

  “No.” Nylian's wings rippled as his shoulders shuddered. “I woke with these thirty years ago. It is irrelevant to this conversation.”

  “Then what is the relevance? Why are you telling me your family secrets?”

  Nylian interlaced his fingers and held them in front of his mouth. Behind him, Caedron peered down at the bed with distinct unnerve in his copper eyes. “It is relevant because there is a warning in my paternity that you need to heed. Argenor developed a degenerative disease of the nerves. Even before he began the affair with my mother, it was slowly taking away his ability to walk and speak.
My mother, not understanding the constraints of lightbinding, encouraged him to infuse light into himself to save his own life. No, encouraged is the wrong word. She ordered him to draw the light into himself. I was barely a year old, my sister was a newborn, and my mother wanted to use Argenor to save my life, but she couldn't because of his now-rapidly deteriorating condition.

  “She took him to the Star Tower, the highest point of The Halls of Anthora, and told him to use the starlight to heal himself. He pleaded with her and told her to light-infuse any person aside from a Spellkeeper was forbidden, but she demanded his compliance. Starlight is the most powerful source of light for a lightbinder witch, and the most unpredictable. He drew the light into himself. It ran through his veins, his nerves, his bones, and instead of healing him, it turned him to glass. She touched him and he shattered, then crumbled further into a cloud of fine sand as the shards hit the floor.” Nylian reached into his pocket and held forth an hourglass full of luminescent, sparkling sand. “This is what remains of Argenor Emberflight, the sand my mother gathered as the frigid wind tried to blow it away. I carry it with me as a reminder of what happens if I bind beyond the limitations of light magic. I've received little guidance and have made mistakes, many mistakes. I made a mistake when I revived my brother. I have made mistakes with you. I want to help you avoid the errors I made.”

  “Why? Why do you care if I make mistakes?” Shan asked. Marita squeezed his hand but remained silent.

  Nylian reached back toward the dresser. The copper dragon crept down his arm to sit upon his lap. “Shannon, I do not think you understand your own power. You are the result of many generations of careful and intentional pairings within three elven lines of considerable magic skill. I thought that would culminate with the Eclipse Spellkeeper in a child of Ranalae and Daelon, but I was not aware at the time that Spellkeepers need to be half-elven. The resilience of your mother's line gives you a strength I can barely comprehend. Strength of mind, of body, of magic. You are both shadow and light in a single soul. Your mistakes could very well be fatal to yourself, to the people you love, and possibly to every person of this world. You have a vengeful nature, but also a loving one, and we have already witnessed the unfortunate results of you trying to use lightbinding to relieve pain in both yourself and another. Lumin suffered, if only briefly, for your mistake. Let me help you avoid making another.”

  A sob caught in Shan's throat at the mention of Lumin's name. Never again, never, never again. He would never curse another being to Lumin's fate. He had partially forgiven himself for what he had done, but only because he hadn't yet known better. What else was there to avoid? There were no other lightbinder witches to teach Shan about his own abilities. His only choices were to make more horrible mistakes or to trust the words of this monster. He took a deep breath and exhaled out a whimper before whispering, “Okay.”

  Nylian adjusted his wings before relaxing against the back of the chair. The gold scaling on his face glistened in the sunlight that poured in through the window opposite the bed. “All witches can create charmed objects, but light infusion is different from using herbs and spells to call the wind or give a draft horse additional strength. Lightbinding is strong and specific. It changes the very purpose of the object, transforms it into something that looks identical but is entirely new. Light is temperamental, and different light sources yield different results. Starlight is the most powerful source of all, but it can bring with it unpredictable consequences. It can heighten the healing properties of a potion, or it can be used to bring destruction. Nearly every starlight-infused object has secondary properties that conflict with the main purpose of the object.”

  “Like an axe that grows trees instead of chopping them down?” Shan asked. This explains a lot, he thought. He'd used starlight to enchant some of the objects in the Owlfae meadow. Marita's pendant, Rose's temperature-resistant collar, and his own compass were created with the help of firelight. Tessen's translation spectacles that wouldn't allow him to read Common or Dwarvish, Iefyr's infinite quiver of mediocre arrows, and Ragan's tree-growing axe were all infused with starlight.

  “Yes. Did you create such an object?” Nylian asked, an eyebrow raised.

  “Among others. I was still trying to figure out how all this works,” Shan replied. “What about firelight?”

  “Chaos and humor.” Nylian tilted his head toward Caedron, who nuzzled him in return. “Firelight is best for pranks and whimsy, and it is the source most commonly used by lightbinder witches of history and lore. It's also excellent for enchanting weapons. Forged in fire, infused by fire. Sunlight is benign and predictable, best for everyday objects requiring everyday magic. Moonlight is mystical and healing. I've found that each day of the moon cycle brings with it a new set of properties. I will allow you to read my notes on the matter another day.”

  Shan ran his fingers along Marita's bracelet. “Dwarfstones?”

  Nylian's eyes narrowed slightly as he glanced toward Marita, then back at Shan. “Have you used dwarfstones to enchant?”

  “Yes.” Shan held up the pendant he wore around his neck. “My first. This is how I found out I'm a lightbinder.”

  Nylian shifted in his seat, but his face returned to stoic. “I am not able to pull light from dwarfstones. I know of no other lightbinder who can. Use caution, Shannon. I do not know what risks may come with this light source. Dwarfstones are deep magic, old magic, created during the birth of this world. Tell me, does this light feel like starlight or something else?”

  A grin spread across Shan's face as he recalled the comfort dwarfstone light had brought him. “It feels like life, like cave mushrooms and glow worms and bioluminescence. Can't you feel it, Nylian? Can't you feel that the stones are alive? They burrow slowly through the underground, so slowly you and I can't see. But we do see. The Nightshadows saw, and that's why they were able to use dwarfstones to spy. I bet you do that too, Nylian. I bet you can see every bit of this castle that is lit by a dwarfstone sconce. And you know what else it feels like, Nylian? Pain. It feels like generation upon generation of Uldru pain, of slavery and blood and death. Not all dwarfstones, certainly. The ones here were mined by dwarves and they are quite content things. But the ones in Mountain Home and in your daughter's lairs, those scream in anguish. Do you know why, Nylian? Because dwarfstones have memories.”

  Nylian's bright eyes widened as he stood from his chair. The dragon fell to the floor, shook his head, then looked up at Nylian in confusion.

  Shan pursed his lips and laughed. “So, I'm curious about other light sources. Lightning, lava, fireworks, aurora, will-o-the-wisps, phosphorescence. Things like that.”

  “I think we need to continue this lesson later,” Nylian said, his hand at his throat. Shan's words had clearly rattled the High King. It was enough of an accomplishment to make him forget about the pain for a moment. “Yes, I can tell you about those, and others. I have experimented with many sources. I have extensive notes on the less-common lights and I'll let you read them when I bring you the moon phase notes. I believe . . . I need to go read from the tomes Argenor left behind. You have given me some things to think about, and I must address them before I can instruct you further.”

  Shan flicked his hand in the air. “Well, go on then.”

  Caedron stood on his hind legs to nip Nylian's fingertips. Nylian shuddered, then stuck his hand in his pocket. “Yes, I nearly forgot. Caedron has brought you a gift.”

  Shan recoiled as a copper egg the size of a chicken's was laid on the bed next to him. “Take it back. I don't want it. You can't replace Lumin with whatever that is.”

  Nylian took a step toward the door. “I have no intention of replacing Lumin. This egg is Caedron's. He fathered it with his mate, a wild dragon who has taken up residence in the Star Tower. They have chosen to give it to you. Copper dragons are nothing like solar dragons. They are the smallest of dragons and Caedron is full-grown, but they are far more intelligent than pixie dragons. They form loose binds with us com
pared to every other dragon breed capable of becoming bound, but they are loyal companions.”

  “So it's a pet?” Shan asked. The egg gave a tiny shiver, then rolled onto its side. Shan instinctively reached out a protective hand to keep it from toppling off the bed.

  “No, it's a dragon,” Nylian said. The previous discomfort he showed was gone. “The loss of Lumin will always be devastating for you. I am the cause of some of that devastation and I am sorry. I cannot in good conscious bind you to a dragon who will grow large, but I know from experience that the only way to begin to heal from this type of loss is to sew together the wound with a new bind. It will create a painful scar, but it is better than continuing to bleed.” He leaned forward so Caedron could jump back onto his arm. “It is your choice whether or not to accept our gift. If you choose not to, I will give this egg to one of my children.”

  “Will its wings be clipped?”

  “No. It will be free to fly.”

  Marita leaned over Shan and whispered into his ear, “Take the egg, Shan.”

  “How long until it hatches?” Shan asked. He didn't want another dragon, not at all, but he couldn't continue to live with this open chasm in his heart.

  A faint smile crept across Nylian's lips as he crept toward the door. “Not long now. Days. Keep it close, and make sure yours are the first eyes it sees.”

  Marita waited until Nylian was out of the suite before kissing Shan's cheek. “What a lying gods-damned asshole. Creeps in here with his gentle charisma and his stories after we watched him murder his own son. Treason? Is that just something he made up because he tired of Liantor?”