Shattered: An Urban Romantic Fantasy

by E E Everly

  “Bronwen was showing me the property,” Dad said. “We’d hiked into the woods and came to the meadow. It’s common that portals are between rocks or on rocks or sometimes in caves. I’d been trained to look for them. My father taught me how at a young age. Portals can be found on just about any world, leading to just about anywhere. Emira is usually the central hub where most portals converge, due to Emira’s magical properties, but some worlds have been found to link directly to each other.”

  Trysten was the only other person making a sound as my dad spoke. Her random coos and sucks were increasing in frequency, so I had to eat fast.

  “The boulder was unusual in the meadow, a dead giveaway that it could be a rift.” Dad shifted in his seat. “I trained my inner eye on it and was able to see the small tear. I’d told only Bronwen that day. We didn’t open it then.”

  “How is it open now?” Tomos asked.

  “Rhosyn, my cousin, was trying to replicate the magic that sealed Uffern—”

  Bronwen leaned toward me. “The Dark Master’s prison.”

  “—She sought a way to concentrate the two energies of darkness and light,” Dad said. “She had craftsmen working around the clock. A stone, called a moon jewel, was forged in the volcanic land of Caer and fired with dragon magic. The two half-emrys who forged the stone imbued it with their powers, one giving all his light and the other giving all his darkness.”

  “All?” Bronwen asked. Her astonishment led me to believe this was something serious, to give all of one’s light.

  “Yes, they died for their pursuits.”

  “Died?” I asked.

  “The strain was too much for even an emrys,” Dad said.

  Tomos straightened. “A stone that can break seals? A seal is entirely different from a portal, Vaughan.”

  “Yes, well, it was a failure in that respect,” Dad said. “Uffern hasn’t been opened, and by Deian’s blessing it never will.” Dad looked at me. Which is why you will be coming back to Earth.

  No.

  What can I do to make you trust me? Dad asked.

  Give me one memory. Show me one truth.

  Silence on his part. Figures.

  My father’s language and manner of speech linked him to this world. He didn’t bat an eye when it came to his talking of emrys things. It was as if he were some other self, a part I had never known. Although, when he left Mom and me when I was five, I hadn’t known him well. Just enough to cultivate an eternal hatred toward him.

  Dad continued. “On a hunch, Rhosyn asked me to try the moon jewel on a portal, one that had been opened but was at the time closed. She was most interested in giving Dark Emrys the ability to open portals.”

  “This is so confusing.” I looked pleadingly at Cystenian.

  “Here are the basics of opening portals.” He glared at Dad briefly before continuing. “Light and darkness are needed to open portals. I believe I told you that earlier.”

  “Yes.”

  “On Bryn, two half-emrys, one harnessing each energy, could easily open any known portal to another world. But Bryn has many Dark Emrys, those who carry no light. They could never open a portal without help, and many half-emrys wouldn’t be inclined to help them. Most portals are closed for a reason.”

  “Like the portal from Bryn to Belyven, the fae realm, where the fae originally came from,” Bronwen said. “That was closed to stop more of them from entering Bryn.”

  “How in the world did they get on Earth, then?” I asked.

  “From a portal from Belyven to Earth,” Dad said.

  “Oh wow.” I rested my hand on my forehead and propped my elbow on the table. Too many things. Too much to know.

  Cystenian grinned goofily at me. “That explains the fae by your house. There must be another portal to Belyven close by. But returning to your education on portals. Since darkness can’t be harnessed here, your father would have needed a moon jewel to pass through our portal. Am I right?”

  “Exactly,” Dad said. “With the help of another emrys or half-emrys, I can use my powers on Bryn to open any portal, but I can’t use my darkness here nor could anyone else. On Bryn, I tested the moon jewel on a portal to Grimoria, a demon world, and I ended up fighting a demon that nearly killed me.”

  I jerked and turned toward Dad. “What?”

  “It’s another story for another day,” he said.

  “I guess that’s why portals stay closed.” I fiddled with my napkin. Wait a minute. “Dad. I think I’m missing a basic fact.” Dad had said use my darkness.

  “You’re wondering about being a half-emrys. Half-emrys have light and darkness and can harness one or the other.”

  I’m a half-emrys. “You’re saying I have both?” The black specs in my sun?

  “Yes.” And yes, Dad said.

  Not only do I have to learn how to use my light, I have to learn how to use my darkness. Oh goodie. I’m two sides of a coin. Welcome to the light… and the dark side.

  Focus on the light for now, Anerah. You can’t practice the darkness here on Emira anyway.

  Is the darkness evil? I asked. Is that why Cystenian’s family pushes so hard against it?

  Not necessarily. It depends on intentions. Darkness grows in the absence of light. The greater your light, the less your darkness.

  Dad made it sound so simple.

  The table had grown quiet, just a few clinks of dishes while the others ate. They must have understood that a deeper conversation was going on between Dad and me. Maybe Cystenian was having one with Bronwen too. Possibly Eiluned with Tomos, because I assumed they were mentally bonded if they were husband and wife.

  I went back to speaking out loud, because the mental communication seemed rude. I hated the thought that they could be discussing me. “Okay, so if you and I are half-emrys, why couldn’t I open the portal on Earth’s side?”

  “Half-emrys can harness only one energy at a time,” Dad said.

  “Only light or darkness?”

  “Yes.”

  “You could have helped me do it.” A muscle twitched near my eye, and I had to relax the tension in my jaw before I spoke. “We could have done it together.”

  “Yes.” He closed his eyes in a pained expression. He knew he had deceived me, and he felt bad for it.

  What was with his constant one-word answers? I stood and spoke as calmly as I could. “I’ve had enough. I can’t sit here and listen to how you’ve hurt me for months while I was expecting Trysten.”

  “Anerah, it was to keep you safe.”

  “You keep saying that.” I hurried over to Trysten and took her from Aelwen. “Nothing will change what you’ve done or fix the lies you’ve told.”

  Cystenian rose, but his mother touched his arm. “Let her go, Cystenian.”

  He shook off his mother’s hand.

  I snarled at her. “That’s right. Let me go. You’d like me to go right back to where I came from.” I headed toward the door. Which would suit your purposes just fine, Dad.

  Cystenian hurried to catch up. Out in the hall, he cornered me. “I don’t want you to go, Anerah.”

  He’d finally said it, but I was too hurt to rejoice. “Leave me alone, Cystenian. Don’t you have a festival to train for and a bride to woo?”

  He grabbed my hand, a desperate touch, certainly not romantic. “I’m not worried about any of that. I’m worried about you. Don’t you see? This means you have a way to travel between worlds. You can stay here and still see your mother.”

  I shook my head, my heart feeling heavy and my voice filled with sorrow. “She’s not even my real mother.”

  Cystenian stepped closer and caressed my cheek, stopping my head from shaking. His scent, the same scent I remembered from our meeting on Earth, put me at ease. His chest rose and fell, so close to me that I was tempted to smooth my hand over it.

  “That doesn’t matter,” he said. “You love her. You need to see her. I’ll talk to Vaughan and get the moon jewel for you.”

  I looked into
his intense eyes. He did care. “Thank you, Cystenian. That means the world to me.”

  TWENTY-THREE

  A breeze ruffled my hair. “Tell me what happened with you and Vaughan.” I tucked Trysten into her blanket even though Bronwen had assured me that Trysten’s inner light regulated her temperature.

  “It’s complicated.” Bronwen shredded a piece of grass. “Wait until I talk to him more. He is your father. That makes things difficult.”

  We sat beside a pond, on a little peninsula surrounded by reeds. Strange brown birds, what I would call geese with short necks, lounged on the banks, occasionally honking at us.

  “You think it’s difficult?” I sighed and stared at a cloud passing overhead. “I’m still not over how young he looks, as if he’s in the prime of his life, as if he should be going to clubs or something.”

  Bronwen’s grin flashed flawless teeth. “He’ll always be in his prime.” She blushed, absolutely crimson.

  Oh good heavens. She was thinking about how hot she thought he was, wasn’t she?

  I huffed, disturbed by the idea of my new sister and my father together. “Were you in a relationship? Do you have feelings for him?”

  She shook her head and rubbed her cheeks. “You are persistent.”

  “I have horrible memories of him. I’m trying to see him from your point of view.

  “The Vaughan I knew was a good man. He’s still a good man.” Bronwen touched my hand. “I’m sorry he wrecked your memories.”

  “I don’t know if I can ever forgive him.”

  “I hope you can someday.”

  “Yeah, right,” I said.

  Cystenian’s head appeared over the reeds as he strode toward us. “Nice day. How are my ladies?”

  I caught Bronwen’s eye, giving her a look that said I needed a moment with Cystenian.

  She tipped her head slightly, understanding. “I’ll leave you two so you can talk.” Bronwen jumped up from the blanket and skipped away.

  Cystenian took her place, making himself cozy as he peered at Trysten in my arms.

  I pulled the blanket from her head. “See how her hair is wispy red curls? Bronwen hopes her hair will be thick and curly with heavy spirals when she’s older. She’s very excited.”

  Trysten’s locks lay in little crescent moons around her head. Not full curls—the hairs weren’t long enough yet—but they were delicate smiles all over her scalp. Typical of baby locks. Mom said my hair had been strawberry blonde fuzz until it fell out when I was a toddler and grew in with thick-stranded auburn waves.

  I passed my daughter to Cystenian, who shushed her with a gentle breath when she stirred. I loved his attentions to my daughter—the way he leaned over her and brought her to his face for kisses.

  I hated to think about Aria’s arrival. Our tentative improvement in my relationship with Cystenian wouldn’t last long with her around. I’d have him to myself for almost five weeks before Aria arrived, so I had to make the best of it and win Cystenian over.

  Trysten’s fist plopped into her mouth, and she sucked on the knuckle of her index finger.

  “She’s hungry again.” As Cystenian spoke, his voice was full of awe. I caught the slightest hitch before he looked at me. “You need to feed her.”

  I nodded. “Right.” I looked around. I didn’t see anyone. “Right here?”

  “Anerah, you don’t have to be shy, although I do understand.”

  “Do you mind turning away?”

  He grinned. “Very well.” Cystenian settled Trysten into my lap and then turned away. He bent his knee and propped his elbow on it, resting his chin. I smirked. He was making a show of his position. He wouldn’t stay that way for long, and I knew it.

  I slipped the fabric away from my left breast. I figured I should switch sides since the left one felt tingly. At first I was worried about screwing up the latch, but once Trysten was happily sucking away, I realized we had this. She knew how to nurse, and that was brilliant. I relaxed and allowed the beauty of this moment to delight me.

  “Look at her!” Cystenian cooed over my shoulder. “Her mouth works like a newborn calf’s.”

  “Cystenian!” I exclaimed in a whisper as I covered the top of my chest with my free hand. I startled just enough that Trysten paused her little sucking cheeks, but she quickly resumed her gorging. “This makes me really uncomfortable.”

  He leaned in closer—his chin almost rested on my shoulder. “It’s not as though I haven’t seen your breasts before.” His voice lowered. “It’s not as though I haven’t touched your breasts before.”

  My face flushed. What was he doing? Betrothed to another woman but watching me feed his daughter. I’d need an antipsychotic if he kept up this level of intimacy.

  Don’t fight it. Use this to your advantage.

  Cystenian laughed. “I’ll have to teach you to control your emotions. I love that you’re so pure and naïve about all this—about everything.”

  “What do you mean control my emotions? Why should I have to control them?”

  Cystenian pivoted so he was facing me. He was still much too close, so close my breath could barely catch up. “I knew this would have to be brought up some time. I was hoping that Bronwen might be the one to tell you.”

  “Tell me what?” Good gravy, here comes another ball drop. I wasn’t sure how much more of this alien culture I could handle, even if I was one of these aliens as well.

  “I don’t have to be touching you to sense your emotions—”

  “Wha—?” Huge ball!

  “Touching enhances the transmission and allows me to send emotion back, which is why intimates touch foreheads.”

  My eyes closed, and I tried not to feel annoyance, humiliation, disgust—with myself.

  His family, the awkwardness I’d felt around them during meals, the looks Bronwen gave everyone in my behalf, the snickers that people covered around me when I was embarrassed because I was so new to this world—

  They could sense everything!

  Embarrassment spun in my chest like a tornado.

  “It’s quite all right, Anerah. My family couldn’t help but be amused by how adoring you are.”

  “Adoring! My colossal naïveté is not adoring!”

  “I should tell you that we’re used to this. We share emotions all the time. Most emrys don’t bother to block them.”

  “Hang on. Now you’re talking. ‘Block them.’ Yeah, teach me that.”

  “All in time, and before you know it, it’ll become second nature.”

  “I hope so. The first time I used magic, I didn’t have any inkling of who I was and what I could do when I jumped off the cliff and flew.”

  “Remember, it’s not magic. It’s light.”

  “Like I said before, in my world, that’s magic.”

  Cystenian swirled his finger in one of Trysten’s curls. He was absolutely taken with her. “That was the first time, then?”

  “I’ve done it twice since.” I was so thrilled that Cystenian and I were talking. I pressed my lips together. Could he sense how thrilled I was?

  “We can do so much more with our light.”

  “Will you show me?”

  His nose touched my ear, and he whispered, “I will show you everything.”

  Chills ran up my neck, and I shrugged him off. “Stop that.” What was he doing? He was clearly flirting with me. Didn’t he know that?

  I didn’t care. I didn’t want it to stop.

  Cystenian’s face bubbled with amusement. “You are so endearing.”

  I was going to kill him. “On earth we say cute.”

  “Cute. Very well. You’re cute.” His voice became breathy and hushed. “I dreamed about you—about us—every single night.”

  Oh? I was starting to hyperventilate. He would end up seducing me with his sexy whispers. I looked around. Two “geese” floated nearby. No inkling of a fae’s presence. The sensations I was experiencing were because of Cystenian. Why was he stirring up emotions he knew darn well he
shouldn’t?

  Trysten had fallen asleep, so I broke the latch with my pinkie finger, appalled when my nipple popped out of her mouth and Cystenian got an eyeful.

  “Here, I’ll burp her.” He pretended not to notice my exposure as he scooped her up so I could cover myself.

  I didn’t want to think about our spelled interlude and nursing Trysten at the same time while Cystenian stared at my naked breast. Every interaction with him was awkward and so messed up. It shouldn’t matter; he was my baby’s father.

  And, apparently, naked flesh didn’t faze him.

  Decent, I turned to Cystenian, watching him pat our daughter and absorbing the wonder. We had made this little potato. In fact, she felt like a ten-pound sack of potatoes. Whenever I hefted a bag in the grocery store, the potatoes shifted around in a jiggly mass, and oddly, the image reminded me of my baby.

  I was losing it.

  “Cystenian, I thought about you every day too and dreamed about you. I came to the portal once a month, begging those stupid fae to let me in.”

  He shook his head. “I swear I did the same thing. Several times a week. I was desperate to find you. You knew nothing about this world, and I worried that you were facing your new powers alone.”

  “It was confusing, and the pregnancy was a shock. Who would have thought that after a one-night stand I’d become pregnant?”

  “About that. Can you forgive me for being such a jerk the first day you were here? It was insensitive of me to worry about my virtue when you also had the same experience. I should have been worrying about you and your virtue. I’m just glad that our physical bonding happened because of a spell. I would have been devastated had I been the one to destroy your virtue.”

  “Whoa, hold on. How do you know that you were my first?”

  His eyes widened. “I wasn’t? That’s not possi—”

  I raised my hands. “No, no. You were.” I couldn’t believe I was discussing this with someone I hardly knew. With someone who had now seen my breasts three times. “I didn’t want you to think…” What did I want him to think?

  I looked at the woven blanket. Tell him how you feel. “I felt something between us that night. It felt right. I knew I wanted you. It was as if nothing else was right in the world but you.”