He nodded, his sapphire eyes serious. The other patrons within the warm bustling inn seemed far away and not quite real to her. “No one is starving yet, but if something doesn’t change, that point is not far off.”
She scraped her fork across her plate, suddenly feeling a bit guilty for not wanting the unappetizing portion before her.
Eywen reached across the table and put a hand on her arm. “While I am eager to hear what you meant about allying the burgh with a dragon, you said you had something you wanted to ask me.”
She tried to summon some of her earlier indignation, but it seemed to have left her tired and sad. Her eyes remained on her plate. “We brought your sister back with us. Why did you never tell me about her?” Finally, at a small spark of familiar anger, her eyes raised to his. “Why have you told me almost nothing about yourself, when I have told you everything?”
His arm dropped back to his side. “My sister? Syrel?”
“What, do you have more than one?”
He shook his head. “No, just the one, I’m just surprised. Where did you find her?”
“You didn’t answer my question, why didn’t I know about her to begin with? Why do I know nothing else about you? How am I supposed to trust you at all?”
His shoulders slumped. She hadn’t meant to empower her words with so much emotion, but it had all come tumbling out.
He met her gaze. “My past is lengthy and very painful, and with the long slumber of the faie, much of it has faded from my memory. Only the time since I awoke, since you and your companions were taken prisoner by Oighear, seems real to me. And you know everything of that time.”
“But your sister. She has not faded from memory?”
Finally he smiled, a sad, almost wistful smile. “Though it is true Syrel is my sister by birth, we were never what one of your upbringing might consider a family.”
“My upbringing did not include a family, but go on.”
He inclined his head, acknowledging her point. “Oighear treated male and female Aos Sí very differently, and her mother before that as well. Lads were trained to be soldiers from childhood on. Women were little more than slaves. I barely knew Syrel beyond our youngest years, and the times I did encounter her—” He shook his head. “Well, I cannot tell you what sort of trouble you’ve brought to this burgh. Nothing malicious, mind you, but I promise, there will be trouble.”
She listened intently to his story, realizing she’d only been looking for a reason to be upset with him. She could understand why he did not speak of his more distant past. “I apologize for bringing all this up. I shouldn’t have made you talk about it.”
He reached out and touched her arm again. “You can ask me anything you please. Just know, I do not speak of that time because it does not seem real to me. My real life is here, with you, and it has only just begun.”
“And it’s likely to end in roughly ten days too, if Finn doesn’t feed a god to the black dragon.”
His eyes widened for a moment. When he recovered his natural calm, he gestured to her plate. “Eat your meal, and tell me everything.”
She stabbed her fork into her trout, then ate a bite. It wasn’t as bad as it looked. Both the fish, and other things. “You should eat too. We’re going to be here a while.”
He grinned. “I’m glad you’re back. I found my thoughts constantly with you, and was unable to focus on much else.”
She frowned. “I was gone less than two days.”
“Two days into danger. I would rather not face such worry again.”
She blushed, then quickly stuck another bite of fish into her mouth, stifling what surely would have been an embarrassing reply. This life may have been new to him, but it was just as new to her, at least the part where an ancient faie warrior could make her blush like a maiden at her first Ceilidh.
Branwen
Branwen crouched in a dark corner created by two adjacent estate buildings. The trees close to the outer wall had been cut down, preventing anyone from climbing up from the outside, but she didn’t need that easy route of entry to move about unnoticed. In fact, it seemed she was noticed less and less by the day. There had been a few moments on her way in when someone walking by should have spotted her, but they looked past the space where she stood, as if something compelled their eyes away. Perhaps their minds just didn’t want to comprehend what she was, an abomination. Her body should have been long since dead, but remained animated by all the in-between magic now coursing through the land.
Shaking her head, she turned her attention back toward the courtyard. Now was not the time to ponder her mortality, or what might happen to her in the future. She had one goal, and one goal only.
Finally, those she awaited came into view. She’d watched them enter the burgh too, but thought they might feel more secure within the estate.
Finn and Iseult talked quietly, too soft for her to hear, still in their traveling cloaks, but now without their horses, satchels, and bedrolls. Jealously boiled in her stomach as she watched them, Iseult leaning close, Finn trusting him with her life, though he was a rather dangerous man. Why did Finn get to be with the one he loved after all she’d done? Finn knew who killed Anders, yet she had continued to work with Niklas. She’d protect all of the nameless faces of the burgh, but would see to no vengeance for someone who’d been her friend.
Bolstered by her anger, she straightened and walked across the courtyard, wondering if Finn’s eyes would avert from her like all the rest.
She approached their backs, noticing as Iseult’s spine stiffened. That dratted man’s senses were too keen for his own good. He touched Finn’s shoulder, then gestured for her to turn with him. They faced Branwen as she finished her approach, though the way they watched her made her feel like she was walking through thick, slippery, mud. One wrong move and she’d slip into the muck, and might not be able to rise.
As Iseult’s gaze was the more intimidating of the two, her eyes remained on Finn. She smiled sheepishly as she reached them.
Neither spoke. She’d expected Finn at least to have a reaction, to wonder where she’d been since their last meeting, but she supposed she really didn’t matter to anyone.
She resisted the urge to look down at her boots.
“Why have you come?” Iseult asked finally.
She took a deep breath. “I wish to end my cowardice. I’ve been hiding all this time, hoping things would get better and I could perhaps return to the archives, but things only seem to be getting worse. Some of the archives have even disappeared.”
They both watched her, neither acknowledging what she’d said. When had Finn grown so cold?
Branwen hoped her expression looked pleading, belying her rage. “I want to help now, in any way I can. I’m a wraith, I can travel far, and I’m good at going undetected. Please, forgive me my cowardice and let me help.” Or do it because you owe me, she thought. You brought me into this mess to begin with.
Finn’s expression softened slightly. “Why now?”
She clenched her fists, hidden beneath her black cloak. “I fear that my family’s Archive might disappear too. I can’t let that happen.”
Finn took a step toward her, compassion clear in her expression. She should have known from the start that family would be the key to Finn’s heart. This would be far too easy. She dared a glance at Iseult, and had to resist the urge to cower. Perhaps not that easy.
“How did you get into the estate?” he asked. “Did someone let you through the gates?”
Ah, perhaps she’d made a mistake in confronting them here. “I—” she swallowed a very real lump in her throat. “I apologize, it is not hard for me to slip about. People don’t seem to notice me. It’s how I know I can be useful. Please, just let me prove myself.”
Finn, seeming to have an idea, patted Iseult’s arm. “We need someone to find Keiren,” she turned to Branwen, “do you remember who she is? She must be brought here straight away.”
“The red-haired sorceress?”
>
Finn nodded.
“Alright, I’ll do it. Do you have any idea where she is?”
“No, that is why no one else has been sent.”
Did they take her for an utter fool? Was Finn just trying to get rid of her? “Thank you. Thank you for allowing me to help. I’ll search for her high and low, and I’ll report back every so often.”
Finn smiled, if it could be called a smile. It was more an upward tilting of her lips conveying sadness and exhaustion. “Be careful.”
Did she really care? Branwen nodded with mock excitement, then hurried off before Iseult could think of more questions to ask her.
Fully within their sight, she scaled the nearest estate building, hopped the dangerous distance to the top of the wall, then turned and waved.
They both watched her, Iseult, like he was considering fetching a bow to shoot her down. His trust would be the most difficult to gain.
She hopped down, gripping the outer wall’s edge with her fingertips. Her intention had been to wait until they went to their chambers where she could return to listen outside their window, but their soft words carried on the wind.
Finn’s voice, “What do you think she’s up to?”
Then Iseult’s, “It is not important. We must focus on the task at hand. We only have ten days.”
Ten days? Ten days to what? Branwen remained hidden on the other side of the wall for a long while, but no more words came. No matter, she’d find out everything soon enough. She had no intention of leaving the burgh. She’d wait, and watch, checking in every few days to gain Finn’s trust. According to Arawn, Finn was already on the right path. Therefore, her task was to simply ensure Finn did not stray, and when the time came, everyone would play into her plan for once. They might hardly notice her anymore, but they’d all come to regret it. Sometimes the unseen things were the most important detail of all.
Naoki
Naoki stalked through the forest outside the burgh, pleased to be able to hunt freely. When her mother was in the woods, she was too concerned with protecting her to completely focus on the joy of pouncing rabbits and swallowing them whole.
She wove through the trees, then abruptly halted against her will. Something was tugging on her, or maybe she was tugging on it. She craned her neck back to find her rump had become wedged between two trunks. She chittered in annoyance. She’d grown too big to comfortably stalk in the deep forests where the rabbits liked to dwell.
She gave her rump a shake, cracking one trunk until she was loose, then continued on her hunt, wings tucked in tightly to not get damaged.
Her large round eyes caught movement, and the scent of rabbit. She crouched down, waiting for the perfect moment to leap.
The sound of tiny wings, then something fell upon her back. She jumped with a shrill shriek, trying to shake whatever it was loose. A piece of cloth? No, a net? The net pulled taught, pinning her to the ground. She thrashed and spewed ice crystals from her maw, unsure of what was happening.
One of the trees she’d hit with ice animated before her. Its knobby nose and craggy features crumbled the ice coating it. The trow smiled at her. “Apologies, dragon, but the trees of this forest are no strangers to cold.”
Naoki blinked at the trow, confused. The tree faie liked her mother, why would they harm her?
More trow ambled into view, and surely more were pinning the net around her. She heard a faint buzzing noise, and felt something tickling her belly, and suddenly the sound of tiny wings made sense. Flashes of color, dulled by the moonlight, danced around her. She snapped at the pixies, but they were too fast for her to catch. She spewed ice all around, coating the trow, but missing most of the pixies.
The ropes continued to wind, and she couldn’t move. Soon she was entirely bound with thick ropes, wound too many times for her to snap. Finally her head was pinned, and her beak bound.
She blinked at the trow who had spoken, wishing she could ask why.
The trow seemed sad, though it was hard to tell with the rough bark coating his face. “Tree Sister has done something bad, dragon. She ate faie magic. She will come for us all soon, we think. We like being free, and we will not give it up. Once Tree Sister swears with her blood not to harm us, we will give you back to her.”
Naoki struggled at his words, but the other trow barely seemed to notice. They began dragging her through the forest, having to stop frequently as she became wedged between trees. She shrieked and cried through her sealed beak, but to no avail. She was too far from the burgh for her mother to hear her. They’d never been separated before, not like this! Not where she couldn’t run through the trees and different realms to find her mother once again. She had to fly to reach that other realm, and bound as she was, she could not even walk. If her mother went there . . .
She let out one last muffled wail. This time, her mother would have to come to her. She would come, wouldn’t she? She wouldn’t let the trow keep her.
Would she?
Late that evening, under cover of full darkness, a red-winged pixie alighted upon a particular windowsill. It hadn’t been difficult to find. She could sense the monster within, their Oaken Queen no longer. Tiny fingers trembling, she tugged the rolled parchment from her belt, glad to be rid of it as it impeded her flight. She slipped the parchment through the window shutters, waited one breathless moment, then took flight.
They’d taken a massive risk in stealing the dragon, but they could see no other way. To be bound again like they once were, or to have their magic eaten . . . well, it simply couldn’t happen. Every creature deserved to be free. Those with wings, most of all.
Finn
For Finn, the next morning brought with it a relative sense of peace. At least she had a plan now, an end in sight. Iseult had risen before dawn, like usual, leaving her alone in their chambers. She washed her face in her basin, then dressed in thick leather breeches and a gray woolen tunic, a little too big for her small frame. The breeches, crafted by Slàine’s assassins—though she hardly thought of them as such any longer—were meant for swordplay. Despite her better mood, she wanted more than anything to feel safe. Protected. Perhaps it was because Ashclaw would likely arrive that morning. Or perhaps it was because of what she must do next. Either way, no one would care what she wore, and the breeches made her feel better.
As she ran a comb through her waist-length hair, she approached the shuttered window. She had set the comb aside, prepared to open the shutters, when she noticed a tiny roll of parchment on the stones near her stocking-clad feet. Curious, she retrieved and unrolled it, then scanned the words hastily scrawled on one side. They were almost illegible, as if written by a child.
Her face grew hot as she read. By the time she reached the end, her hands were trembling. She read through the note again, growing angrier by the second. Her body quaked with rage. She crushed the note in her hand, then tossed the crumpled parchment at the wall. It pinged off the stone with hardly a sound.
Forgetting she was yet to don her boots, she stalked across her chamber, flinging the door open before storming out into the hall. She rushed down the stone corridor, not really sure what she intended to do—except murder any faie who had harmed Naoki. The note said her dragon was captured, but alive—she better be alive—else Finn would burn the entire forest to the ground.
She was so blinded by the hot rage coursing through her, she didn’t even notice Kai as he came around the corner. Reacting just before she would have barreled into him, she darted aside, then continued on.
“Finn!”
She ignored his words. Nothing must stand in her way.
She heard footsteps following after her, then felt a hand around her arm, spinning her around.
Kai’s face held plain concern. “Where are you storming off to, woman?”
She blinked back tears, but wouldn’t let them fall. She liked the anger better. “I’m going to kill every last faie in the forest.”
His eyes widened. “What in the Horned One’s name are you
going on about?”
The tears threatened again. She forced them back. “Naoki. They took Naoki. Did you not notice she is not in the courtyard?”
He tightened his grip on her arm, then lowered his voice. “Calm down. She’s probably just out hunting.”
She wished she hadn’t crumpled and tossed away the note. “The faie took her. They want me to swear a blood oath to not harm them, and they will give her back.”
His eyebrows lifted. “So your solution is to kill them all?”
The rage returned like a flaring ember in her heart. Molten metal flowed through her veins. She tugged away from him. “They took her!”
He grabbed her again. “Finn, calm down, I think I know what’s going on. This is the, for lack of a less silly term, the dragon blood in you.”
His words quieted her rage, just enough to listen.
“You got emotional, didn’t you? And you didn’t react how you normally do. You didn’t worry, or cry.”
Was he right? Would she have normally reacted in a different way?
He watched her expression shift. “There now, it seems you’re beginning to see reason.”
Her limbs went weak. What had she been thinking? If she’d directly attacked the faie, Naoki might have been killed. She fell to her knees, then looked up at him. “How did you know?”
He joined her on the floor in the middle of the hall, kneeling in front of her. His chestnut hair, longer than it used to be, draped forward over one eye. “Because I went through the same thing after the Dearg Due infected me. The Dearg Due are hunters, as are dragons, driven by instincts and . . . hunger. You must not let those instincts entirely overwhelm your rational thoughts.”
She blinked at him. He was absolutely right. She was feeling instincts she had never felt before. Well, that wasn’t quite true. She felt them when her daughter was killed too. They had always been a part of her, only now they seemed . . . amplified.
Dawn of Magic: Sea of Flames Page 9