The trow’s face fell. Tears glittered at the edges of his green eyes, dampening the bark below. The other trow stepped away. The pixies overhead whispered frantically.
“What has become of you, Tree Sister?”
“Finn.” Kai’s voice sounded behind her. “Think about what you’re doing.”
It was the trow’s tears that finally got to her. If he would have reacted violently, she wouldn’t have been able to stop herself. But the trow were peaceful, even kidnapping a dragon had been so thoroughly against their nature.
She looked at the tears leaking down his bark and fell to her knees, shaking her head over and over. Her rage was still there, so thick she could taste it. “I cannot give you what you want,” she rasped. “If I do not steal the magic of the faie, everyone I hold dear will be killed. I must restore balance to the land, and I must defeat Belenus before time runs out.”
Kai knelt by her side, but it was Sage who spoke. “Why must you shoulder such a burden alone? Why is it your task to restore balance to this land, when you are just one life upon it?”
Her head hung lower. If the trow attacked her now, she probably deserved it—though she didn’t think Sage or Kai would let it happen. “I am the only one who can do it. The only one who can take magic from the faie, and use it against Belenus.”
Sage’s voice again. Closer this time. “Weren’t you their queen once? Can you not use them against the gods without robbing them of everything?”
Blinking away tears, she looked up at the trow before her, then over her shoulder to Sage. “Even if they would fight for me, that would not restore balance to the land.”
Sage leaned against his staff, seeming unworried the trow might attack, not after Finn’s threats. “I’d say that’s a problem for a later time. You brought that black dragon to us, and limited yourself to only ten days to defeat Belenus. Let us face that problem first. The rest can be figured out later.”
“He’s right,” Kai agreed. “Listen to him. Think about what you are doing.”
She gnawed her lip, considering, then shook her head as she looked to Kai. “But your family. I must restore balance before it is too late for them.”
Kai hesitated, then slumped his shoulders and shook his head. “It may very well be too late already, but if they can be saved, it will not be like this. You will save them because of who you are, not what you’re in danger of becoming.” He offered her his hand.
Her fingers trembled as she took it, then together they stood. She felt ashamed of what she had almost done. The trow had helped her so many times. They were kind and peaceful, and now, they were only trying to stay alive.
She forced herself to meet the lead trow’s eyes. “What say you? Will you join me in my fight against the gods?”
The pixies hissed and muttered from the branches above, none daring to move closer. It seemed they were all as wary of Sage’s fire as they were of Finn’s magic.
The trow took the opportunity to step away from her, far enough that she could not quickly reach him. “Swear an oath to never harm us, any of us, and we will aid you. We want only peace with the mortals of this land. An end to being hunted.”
Finn opened her mouth, then closed it. Swearing such an oath would negate the only plan she’d managed to come up with. She was not strong enough to face the gods as she was, not without more faie magic, but could she really have gone through with it in the first place? Could she have survived what she would have become?
Even so, she could not doom them entirely. “I will swear an oath to not harm the pixies and trow, and any who will fight for me. If the Dearg Due cross my path again, this oath will not protect them. I cannot completely cast aside my burden.”
Sage moved closer, leaning near her shoulder. “It will not be your burden alone. Ealasaid will not abandon you. We can figure out the imbalance together.”
She swallowed the lump in her throat, her gaze on the trow. “I will swear your oath with these conditions. If you agree, return Naoki to me, help me defeat Belenus, and I will not harm you. Ever.”
The pixies above cheered. The trow before her leaned forward in a nod, but was not so quick to share in their joy. She could see in his leaf-green eyes that he had seen what lurked inside her, had seen exactly of what she was capable.
For a brief moment, she had seen it too, and it was utterly terrifying.
Branwen
Days had passed, and Branwen watched on. Finn’s dragon had been returned, and light faie were flocking to the western forest near Garenoch. The black dragon remained beyond the front gates, biding its time. The plan she’d made with Arawn had been derailed. Finn had refused to steal more magic from the faie, and instead was enlisting them into her army. Did she not care that things were growing more unstable? Was not her ultimate goal to balance the land?
She rolled onto her back atop the roof of the main estate. It was high enough that none would spot her as long as she remained pressed against the slope, out of sight of the guards atop the estate walls near the gates. A corner created by the western wing and the back part of the building created a nice crevice to cradle her body.
She remained on her back for a long while. She barely felt the sunlight on her face. It was as if nothing really touched her these days. She couldn’t remember the last time she had truly felt it, and the memory seemed to fade more with each sunrise. Would she soon no longer remember the warmth of day?
A shadow moved across the sun. She squinted upward, not surprised to see Arawn standing over her.
“You should crouch down before someone sees you.”
Shading his eyes with his palm, he looked out toward the back courtyard. “No one will see me. It is you who should be worried. You have failed me.”
She couldn’t really bring herself to care. Over the past days she’d sunk into a deep depression, wondering if her vengeance would ever be had. “It’s not my fault Finn’s too soft-hearted to steal magic from the trow and pixies.”
Arawn continued to gaze outward. “Fortunately for you, one end is as good as another. As long as Finn can use them to defeat Belenus, it is all the same to me.”
Not wanting to remain flat on her back, but unwilling to hop to her feet like a whimpering maiden, she lifted her upper body enough to lean on her elbows. “What about the balance in the land? Is it not the gods’ job to fix it?”
“I already told you why we’re really here. This is our punishment.”
These gods were almost as infuriating as mortals. “You said this land is dying.”
“Yes. From war. Too much power attracts destruction. The dragons are proof of that. War and hatred will destroy this land, and most of its inhabitants.”
She stared up at him. “But what about the disappearing burghs? I thought that would be the end of things?”
Arawn snorted. “That, you naive little girl, is the work of the Ceàrdaman. They hope to guide Finnur toward some goal, though what that is, one can only guess.”
“The Ceàrdaman do not have such power!” She slapped a palm across her mouth, her heart thudding as she waited to see if anyone below had heard her.
Arawn didn’t seem to care. “Silly, silly girl. How can you hope to conquer your enemies when you do not truly know them? The magic of the Ceàrdaman was restored when the barrier broke. It was their goal all along, as you know. They are the ones shifting people and places to a different realm. A realm near enough and similar enough for the transition to be made with relative ease. As these occurrences seem to be centered around Finnur—where she will see them, or experience them herself—I believe their purpose is to guide her along a certain path.
Branwen’s face burned with fury. Niklas had told her none of this, which meant he’d never trusted her at all. He’d been pulling her strings, just as she’d thought. She shook her head. As if it could ever be any other way.
Arawn glanced at her, then continued to watch the courtyard. “I’m glad to see you still hope for vengeance. I was beginning to th
ink you’d lost your nerve.”
“Never.”
“Good.” He smiled at something he saw below.
Branwen sat up and looked down. Finn was crossing the courtyard with Naoki trotting happy circles around her.
Branwen turned back to Arawn. “What would you have me do?”
“Our plans have not changed. Gain her trust. I don’t want to end up on the wrong side of a faie army.”
She blinked, and when she opened her eyes he was gone. She tilted her head, staring at the space he’d previously occupied. So the gods didn’t care about balance, and the Ceàrdaman were responsible for the disappearing burghs. She sealed this new information close to her heart. If there was one thing Niklas had taught her, it was that knowledge was power. As long as she knew more than Finn, she could always remain one step ahead.
Bedelia
Bow ready at her side, Bedelia watched the forest, and the crest of the distant rock cliffs jutting up beyond the trees. Tired mages toiled nearby to expand the walls and prepare soil for planting winter crops like hardy neeps and winter squash. She wasn’t sure how they could focus on such mundane tasks when the world was coming to an end, but she supposed people must eat. If they survived, they’d be glad crops had been sown in preparation—though Oighear’s presence could mean the death of those crops and a critical wasting of seed stores. She shivered at thoughts of the Snow Queen, hoping she’d never return to Garenoch.
Sensing eyes on her, she turned to see Syrel approach, wearing the tan linen tunic and black breeches Bedelia had provided for her. The tan color did not suit her. It made her pallid, grayish skin seem even odder—though she did not seem to care about appearances either way. Her black hair had been freshly washed, and was pulled away from her face in a series of intricate braids, leaving the back loose, and her pointed ears bare.
Reaching her, Syrel stood at her side, her eyes scanning the distant forest. “What are you doing out here? I’d think the massive dragon out front is enough to ward off any malevolent faie.” She tapped Bedelia’s bow. “Not sure what you hope to accomplish with that.”
She frowned. “I’d like to be helpful in some way, and fighting is all I know how to do.”
Syrel looped her thumbs in the waistband of her breeches and rocked back and forth on her heels. “If we really wanted to be useful, we’d seek out more of the Aos Sí. An army of lesser faie is fair enough, but the Aos Sí are the greatest warriors this land has ever known.”
Realizing she’d already deserted her task in favor of paying attention to Syrel, Bedelia whipped her gaze back to the rock cliffs, half expecting to see figures standing there, watching her in turn.
There was nothing there. Perhaps the dragon really was keeping the burgh safe.
Sensing that Syrel was still waiting for a reply, she huffed. “The Aos Sí no longer follow Finn. You know that. She cannot command them to help.”
“But maybe they’d want to help. She did free them, after all. Some did not only follow her because she was the Oaken Queen. They could still be made to see reason.”
“If that’s the case, why hasn’t Eywen recruited them?”
Syrel shrugged. “He’s soft at heart. This is the first time the Aos Sí have experienced free will. As their former general, he probably doesn’t want to take it away from them.”
Syrel gasped, then held a hand to her heart, startled by someone walking up behind them.
Bedelia lifted her bow and whipped it around, then quickly lowered it. Eywen stood just a few paces away.
“I have looked for the other Aos Sí, actually,” Eywen explained. “I cannot find them. None of our scouts who have actually returned have seen any trace of them.” He eyed Syrel. “Which is why I was so surprised to see you, Syrel. You’ve done a fine job of avoiding me since your arrival.”
Gnawing her lip, Syrel glanced at Bedelia, before turning back to Eywen. “I was hoping to prove myself invaluable before you could ask me to leave.”
“Why would I ask you to leave?”
Shrugging, Syrel looked down at her boots, then seemed to force her eyes to meet his. “That’s what you’ve always done.”
They seemed to have forgotten Bedelia was even there. Eywen’s mouth twitched into a brief frown. “For your own safety, you know that.”
“You mean for the safety of others,” Syrel corrected. “It was only one time, and it was an accident.”
Now Bedelia was more confused than ever. All she could be sure of, was that this reunion was not something she was meant to witness. Eywen had seen his chance to corner Syrel, and he had taken it, regardless of her presence.
Eywen watched his sister for a long moment. “I suppose you will believe as you choose. I am not here to ask you to leave, but know this, should you cause mischief within this burgh, or should you have any hidden motives, you will be punished. I find it odd that you would so easily leave those you’ve traveled with since Oighear lost her hold.”
Looking down, Syrel muttered. “I’ve never been one to frolic with the herd. You know that.”
He smirked, and some of the tension of the moment seemed to ease. “Yes, I’m well aware. Now you should probably find some way to make yourself useful, and stop distracting Bedelia from her task.”
Bedelia looked between the two of them, nervous to have attention drawn to her. She really should have walked away from the start.
At least Syrel didn’t seem angry. With a quick nod, she smiled at Bedelia, then hurried off, not even sparing a formal farewell.
Bedelia watched her back as she retreated, wishing she had stayed.
Eywen cleared his throat, drawing her eye. “I do not know you well, but a word of warning. Syrel cares only for herself. She is not a bad sort, not really, but any who choose to care for her will be cast aside whenever it suits her.”
She furrowed her brow. “Who says I care for her?”
He smiled softly, a knowing look in his eyes, then turned and walked away.
Bedelia watched him go, then turned back to her task, but soon found it too difficult to focus. She found her heart just wasn’t in it quite as much as before.
Keiren
Keiren had always hated surprises. She had not expected to find an entire army congregating past the cliff’s edge, let alone an army of Aos Sí. The immortal warriors had quickly apprehended her, and it had not taken much longer to ensnare Óengus, though the fool now had fresh bruises and a bloodied nose to show for it.
She had been wise enough, at least, to not fight the Aos Sí. Not without her magic.
The warriors tasked with keeping guard watched her and Óengus silently. They sat in the dirt side by side, ankles, wrists, and upper bodies bound. It was absolutely humiliating. A swath of red hair had fallen over one eye. With the other she saw only a sea of Aos Sí bodies so thick she could not see to the end of the camp—there were that many of them—and the only other route of escape was back down the cliffside. A trip that would kill them, bound as they were.
Occasionally a female Aos Sí passed, and their glares seemed even more intense than the males’.
Óengus had not once ceased to glare right back, and in between, he aimed his angry eyes at Keiren, which he was doing right now. “What have you gotten us into, sorceress?”
“As if you had a better plan.”
“I had no plan at all. You said you could stop all the magic from shining, from searing my brain all the time.”
“And I can.” It was fortunate his magic sight could not see through lies. She had stolen what he’d referred to as “his shadow” once before, but once the in-between had rained its magic down upon them, there was no containing it.
Óengus snorted, letting loose a spattering of blood onto his silver moustache and beard, then grumbled, “Not if we both die here.”
“If they wanted to kill us, they would have done so. Once Niklas arrives, we will be freed.”
“Are you quite sure of that?”
“Yes.” Another lie, but s
he was tired of his whining, and she just wanted him to shut up.
She noticed movement in one of the far tents made of dirty canvas, blending in with the bleak landscape and few scraggly trees. The flap opened, revealing three Ceàrdaman in white robes. The one in the center was Niklas.
“He was here all along?” she growled to herself. “That black-livered vermin!”
“Not so sure of anything, then,” Óengus muttered.
She had no time to chastise him. Niklas broke off from the other two Travelers and approached. The Aos Sí guards stepped back, making room for him to stand before her and Óengus, his bald head gleaming in the murky sunlight.
“What a surprise,” he purred. “I would have never guessed you’d enter a place without magic.”
She straightened her spine, wishing she could stand. “I would have thought the same for you.”
Niklas crouched down, placing himself at eye level. He completely ignored Óengus. “Only in-between magic works here, my dear. If I will it into being, I am far from defenseless. Now tell me, why have you come?”
She was so humiliated, she almost didn’t answer. “I need your help.”
“And why would I give it to you?”
She sneered. “You know how useful I can be.”
He rose, forcing her to crane her neck to look up at him. “Yes, that is true, but I need little help these days. You and the three queens saw to that. When you released the in-between magic, I became more powerful than any other.”
“Then why do you hide up here, oh powerful one?”
Niklas laughed. “You know me better than that, girl. Why dirty my hands, when others do my work for me?”
“What do you mean?”
He grinned, showing sharp teeth. “Since you will not be leaving this place as you are, I will tell you. We have orchestrated a war. The gods, dragons, mages, mortals, and faie will kill each other. When they are finished, I will be waiting.”
She swallowed the lump in her throat. Without her magic, he really could keep her here. Her father would die and she would be powerless to save him. “Waiting for what?”
Dawn of Magic: Sea of Flames Page 11