Son of Sun (Forgotten Gods (Book 2))

by Clair, Rosemary

  I took a final running stride and leapt as high into the air as I could. Holding my breath and closing my eyes, I waited. Time waited, too. Slow motion took over the frantic pace of Daoine’s chase, lulling my senses into peaceful calm. For the first time, I felt as if I might live to see another day.

  My body took on a weightless feeling, as if giant, fluffy clouds were lifting me skyward. No longer in control of anything, I relaxed my muscles and allowed the pool to suck me into it like a vacuum cleaner. Daoine faded from my consciousness. Neither her insufferable wing flapping or ear-bleeding screams registered anymore. I was being pulled far away from her wicked world.

  Silently, my body slicked through the water, held so tightly movement was impossible. Struggling was futile. I simply relaxed, and gave my fortunes over to the portal. Warmth overtook my body, and soft, familiar sounds of life pricked my eardrums.

  I was back! What’s more, I was alive!

  When I opened my eyes, Ennishlough’s inner garden held me in its white walls, the sunshine streaming over my face. I sucked in a huge breath, my lungs near bursting, and body tingling as LisTirna’s poisonous spell faded, and my magic came out of hiding.

  Sunshine was too garish for my eyes after LisTirna’s ethereal light. I squeezed them shut as I leaned forward, clasping my hands on my knees and trying to reorient my senses. Still, my body shook violently, and I contemplated sitting down on the cool grass to rest.

  Turning back to the pool, a single wave skittered across the surface. I gasped. Was she coming? I gasped again when I realized I wanted her to. I wanted a chance to face Daoine in this world, where my power was so strong she wouldn’t stand a chance. Balling my fists at my side, I widened my stance on the grass covered bank, and waited.

  But the wave lapped into nothingness, and the pool stilled. Looking around, Ennishlough was just as it had always been, a relic of my world, not theirs. I was safe from Daoine on this side, she knew better than to challenge me in my world. When I realized what else that meant, I fell to my knees in gut-wrenching despair.

  Sadness crashed into my chest like a wrecking ball. Sure, I was safe. I was back where I was meant to be, but I was still just as alone as I had always been. Still in just as much danger. And I hadn’t even managed to bring Dayne with me. My entire reason for risking my life in the first place.

  Once again, life was in a tailspin, too confusing at that moment to comprehend what was going on. Too ravaged by the whirlwind that had suddenly kicked up and strewn my world beyond all recognition.

  Heading back into LisTirna was neurotic at that moment. Living in my world alone was suicide. It was an impossible choice to make. Neither going or staying seemed right. I was in a weird limbo that didn’t have an easy answer.

  What should I do? Stay or go? My gut was screaming its answer at me. Defeating Daoine would at least put Dayne on LisTirna’s throne and give me an ally in the mess my life had become. But not yet. I had to gather my thoughts, and come up with a better plan before I charged in so unprepared.

  With a heartbreaking groan, I turned and began to trace my way back up the white rose lined path toward Ennishlough’s great hall.

  I’m not sure how far away from the pool I had gone, not that it would have mattered anyway.

  One second my eyes were focused on the uncontrollable tremble wracking my hands, the next a flurry of movement ahead caught my eye and I instinctively raised my gaze to meet hers.

  My blood ran colder than dry ice.

  Ara blocked the gravel path with an unnervingly evil perfection only she possessed. Caught in some unseen wind that touched nothing else, her platinum blonde hair billowed like a sail, and garish designer clothes clung to her body like spiderwebs. Her dainty, yet unmistakably formidable presence alone told me how wrong I had been about things.

  I hadn’t yet escaped with my life.

  A harlot red smile cut a wicked line up her cheeks, but the emotion went no further than her lips. Staring at me in a cold, unfeeling way, with eyes darker than death. In a graceful movement, she leaned to the side to peeked behind me with playful eyes.

  Pleasure washed over her features. Fear washed over mine. Ara cleared her throat as if she pitied my ignorance. Her small hand raised to trace her harlot red lips and then pointed behind me with a weak gesture, like she was showing me something that should’ve been obvious.

  It was an instant reaction, turning my head to peer at the pool.

  I should’ve run.

  Rising tall as the white walls of Ennishlough’s garden, every bit of water in the pool’s banks gathered in one giant wave before my eyes. I turned to run, but it was useless. The swell crashed over me, slamming me to the ground and holding onto me like super glue. No matter how viciously I fought, it was pointless. Nothing in the world could have released me from the water’s spell. Slowly, it dragged me back into LisTirna’s depths. Back to an evil queen who waited with an army of death to snuff me out.

  I screamed, but there was no one to hear me, and death was once again knocking on my door.

  Chapter Thirty Two

  Inevitable

  “ARGH!” I screamed as loudly as I could. The lungful of air I had just gulped down in my world hurtled from my throat when her talons tore through my bloodstained cotton top and into the soft white flesh on my upper arms. I swear that stupid bird’s beak curled into a delighted smile.

  I wriggled to free myself from her grip. Her claws clenched tighter. The pain was so violent I feared my arms were close to ripping off, snapping right in two from the sheer force of her hold. If she squeezed any tighter, I was sure they would.

  She held me in her razored talons as we flew over LisTirna, following a trail in the woods, and back to the altar where her army waited to kill me. All the while, my body hung like a limp snake in her grasp.

  Daoine’s eyes had gone from brilliant purple to stormy puce as she glared down at me with a snarling beak. Had she been a wild animal, she would have already ripped into me by the look on her face. But she wasn’t wild at all. She was calculating. And in my weakened state, I was incapable of being anything more than a pawn in her wicked games.

  When we popped through the trees, the amethyst mountain with her carved stone altar appeared. The army circled its base, all eyes raised to the skies as we approached. Again her cry rang over the land. A cry so loud and feral it ripped through my ear canals and stunned my brain.

  Finvanna stood by the altar in his glorious robes of royalty. As we descended, his arm raised from the folds of flowing fabric, reaching for Daoine.

  We were still about twenty feet in the air when she released me from her talons and began her transformation, becoming Sidhe again just in time to take Finvanna’s outstretched hand.

  When her claws released me, I fell the remaining distance to the ground, landing on the unforgiving purple ground with so much force my body bounced. An unsettling crunch radiated from my ribs, followed by a violent pain that tore through my body like boiling acid. I wanted to scream again, but the pain stopped me, searing my insides when I inhaled any further than a weak gasp.

  So I lay there, trying to talk myself through the pain, and all but giving up any hope that I would get out of LisTirna with my life again.

  Daoine was furious. Her skirts whisked over the ground as she paced, teeth grinding in rhythm with her stomping as she fumed in a small circle. She was obviously deciding what to do to me. Would she throw me to the army who waited like a salivating pack of wolves to tear me limb from limb? Or would she do it herself?

  “Here he is, Mother.” Ara’s triumphant voice interrupted my thoughts, and the thud of another body vibrated the ground I had decided to bury my face in.

  Opening my eyes, I saw that my nightmare was only getting darker. Dayne kneeled before his mother—bulging, muscled arms tied tightly at his back, blood staining his white shirt, hair all mussed around a face that was still beautiful marred with dirt and dried blood. It was hopeless. No way would Daoine forgive his bet
rayal again.

  Defiantly, he raised his weary head and glared at his mother with honest, unfiltered hate. His body oozed contempt. Stiff shoulders obstinately daring her to try to break him...again. Incapable of saving him and unable to watch what she was about to do, I turned my face back to the purple stone, sniveling into the small crevice my nose had found.

  “Dayne!” I whispered helplessly at the ground. Tears and snot mixed with spittle stringing from my mouth, and all I could do was sob silently. He couldn’t possibly have heard the weak whisper my voice had become. Whenever I tried to move, even to speak, my ribs felt like they were slashing giant holes into my lungs and heart.

  “My son.” Daoine’s voice was clear as a bell, ringing loudly enough so every Sidhe gathered at her altar could hear. Her words dripped with sugared contempt, sarcastically mocking the relationship they shared. “Will you never fail to disappoint me?” Her skirts whisked over the amethyst stones again.

  The next moment, I wished my body would rip apart when she grabbed me by an arm and began to drag me over to where Dayne still knelt defiantly at her altar. She dropped me like a sack of potatoes, but I managed to scoot my knees under me before I fell to the ground again, catching myself in a kneeling position beside Dayne.

  I looked up at his stone cold face, but he didn’t even acknowledge me. Assuming he knew something I didn’t, I snapped around to face forward too, wincing at the effort.

  “Well, my attempt at distracting you obviously didn’t work.” Daoine crossed her arms and sighed disappointedly, casting her gaze to the left. I followed that gaze and saw that it landed firmly on the girl from Dayne’s room….my twin. She stood dreamily in the fray of people, her simple smile a million miles away as she stared forward with empty eyes. I chanced a quick glance at him, realizing the girl wasn’t his prisoner after all, but a sick, twisted trick by his mother to try to make him forget about me. Somehow, I felt like I had won some small battle against Daoine. She had always dismissed our love, but finally, she had to admit she was wrong about us.

  “Just get on with it, Mother,” Dayne said through clenched teeth.

  “Oh, I’m going to. I just can’t decide who should die first. Should you be forced to watch me kill Faye to suffer for your treasonous sins, or should she watch you die first for daring to bring her magic into my world?” Daoine crossed an arm over her stomach, resting the elbow of the other hand in it and tapping a finger thoughtfully on her cheek. She looked like she was trying to decide what to order for dinner, not who she should kill first.

  “Don’t think for one minute your will decides my fate!” I shot back defiantly, before I even knew the words were out of my mouth. I gasped at first and then punched my chin in the air. Realizing I faced death really put fear into prospective. What more did I have to loose? “I am not bound to follow the laws of a queen who isn’t even my equal!” I seethed at her.

  “Oh, really?” She turned an intrigued, yet smug, face my way. “So tell me, Faye, if I’m not your equal, why are you the one on your knees?” She paused, giving me time to answer. I said nothing, staring at the ground and gritting my teeth in anger. “I thought so!” She snorted and turned back to the crowd.

  “What about you, Ara? Who would you kill first?” Daoine tucked her hands behind her back as she walked over to where Ara stood.

  With a smile that was about to make her face explode, Ara turned to us.

  “I’d make them kill each other,” she answered. An excited murmur danced over the army, causing the blood to evaporate from my veins.

  “And how would you do that?” Daoine shook her head, knowing we would never turn on one another willingly.

  “If you command Dayne to kill her, he has no choice but to obey.” Ara threw a hand up in the air as if the answer were obvious. “Look at her.” She shrugged in my direction with a weak toss of her head. “Her magic’s useless in LisTirna. There’s no way she could fight him off. Then you let him live with what he’s done. Life would be far worse than death for him at that point.” Ara smiled in a satisfied way, and crossed her arms over her chest.

  “Beginning your reign in terror, Ara?” Daoine’s brow furrowed, her eyes looking at Ara as if she were finally seeing how deep her cruelty ran. She turned, pursing her lips in thought and looked to Finvanna who had remained silent. “What do you think?”

  Finvanna cleared his throat.

  “Your father began his reign by beheading every Sidhe who had ever spoken a word against him.” Finvanna’s voice was strained and hollow, like there was dust permanently lodged in the folds of his throat. He bowed his head as he said this, a humble servant presenting a gift to his queen.

  “Hmmm….” Daoine thought as she stepped back to where we knelt. I chanced another look at Dayne. Still, his eyes stayed forward, staring off at some distant view, as if I wasn’t even there.

  Daoine stuck a hand out to me, resting it on my forehead and closing her eyes like she was trying to see inside my brain. I jerked to the side, meaning to free my head from her grasp, but she moved with me.

  “Get your foul hands off me!” I snarled, and then screamed when a guard stepped forward to restrain me.

  Daoine’s hand was cold and clammy, an unsavory mix that felt vile against skin as warm as mine. But it wasn’t her touch that withered my insides to ash. It was the way her rancid thoughts invaded my brain, flipping through my future like a Rolodex. A future Dayne said she had seen, but had yet to reveal itself to me.

  I tried to push her out, to think of things that might distract her, or throw her off the path of whatever she was chasing. It was no use. Her powers were so much stronger than mine at that point. So, I decided to try and use her touch for whatever I could.

  Closing my eyes, I leaned into her palm, and used the connection to search her future. Pushing all my energy into the hand resting on my forehead, I fought through the stinking layers of her consciousness, looking for the tiniest morsel of what she had seen. Maybe it was foolish to push my tiny bit of remaining magic to its breaking point looking into someone else’s future. But it was all I had.

  Until one scene, clear as any vision I had ever seen, came into sharp relief.

  Fire. Hot and sizzling flames seared their way across the ground, burning everything in their path. Destroying anything that dared to rise against it. Leaving nothing but a swath of scorched earth where beauty once had grown. Fire so deadly, it made me fear what was bubbling in my veins.

  I wanted it to end. I’d seen enough. But the vision wouldn’t release me. I writhed under her touch. Still, her hand didn’t move. The orange flames morphed again, blurring the edges of yet another image. For a fleeting second I saw a hand. Daoine’s golden amulet. And then nothing.

  Daoine gasped and jerked her hand away. Staggering backwards with wide, disbelieving eyes, her vision stayed locked on that far way future. What she continued to see, I no longer knew. But her horrified eyes stayed locked on mine, her chest quickly rising and falling as her features washed into blank nothingness. That’s the moment Daoine’s confidence began to waver. As if the rest of that fiery tale was more than even she wanted to see.

  It was the tiniest morsel of time. One of those startlingly clear, ah-ha type moments, where the world tells you all its secrets if you’re still enough to listen. The type of moment that was so clear, it didn’t need to be prolonged. The type of moment only noticed by people who were a part of it.

  And no one else did. Not even Dayne who still knelt at my side.

  Daoine recovered first, the veil of her indifference falling over her features and masking them in the bored expression she always wore. She grazed a quick glance down to the hand that had held my forehead. In the shadow of her sleeve, the light was beginning to leave her skin, dulling from a soft white glow to a sickly grey color as if my touch had snuffed out its magic. Her hand fell back to her side, but only I was close enough to notice the tiny flutter of her sleeve as she incessantly clutched and released the greying fist.
/>   “Then so it shall be.” Daoine’s voice was tight, pinched, almost robotic, as she consented to Ara’s barbaric plan.

  Acting as if she were totally unaffected by whatever she had just seen, she turned from me. Placing the back of her hand along Dayne’s cheek, she stroked the hard line his jaw cut under clenched teeth.

  “I always had such high hopes for you, son. But you have managed to be an utter disappointment.” She dropped her hand and began to walk away.

  It was then that he turned to me, his head facing down as he shot me a sideways glance over the hulk of his upper arm. Arms that would soon be commanded to kill me. He shook his head and mouthed the words I’m sorry.

  Chapter Thirty Three

  Whose Blood Will It Be?

  Numbness crept over my limbs like a cold, dense fog.

  It wasn’t death I feared. Though, maybe I should have. Losing something that was more precious to me than life—that was what I feared. Yet, for all my fire-goddess magic, there wasn’t a thing I could do to stop it.

  Irony is the cruelest master.

  My hands were bound and I was forced to fall in line behind Dayne, surrounded by guards laden with cruel, medieval weapons of war. I didn’t protest. I didn’t fight. I didn’t even whimper when my wounds ached so badly I swayed to keep my feet.

  Silently, we marched toward the pale pink castle playing peek-a-boo with the mist. Along the way, overzealous guards prodded Dayne with their spears and blade points. Not because he was lagging, but because they could. They were Garyn’s men. Soldiers trained to fight like him, and to hate Dayne as fiercely as he did, too. I wanted to rip their heads off and impale them on the weapons they carried. But that sort of vengeance was beyond my power. With each step I took—my eyes resolutely glued to Dayne’s boots as they trudged along the path before me—my fate slipped further from my control.

  At the queen’s command, Dayne would kill me, that much I knew. Once the queen’s will was spoken, he wouldn’t be able to refuse. Which left me with two options. Fight back and possibly kill him; or willingly die at his hands, and be done with it all. It wasn’t really a choice, and I hoped that Dayne’s heart would be rendered as numb as his mind was by Daoine’s murderous spell. The thought of his eternity being tormented by the memory of killing me was worse than the thought of actually dying.