Reign the Earth

by A. C. Gaughen

  I left Iona a little later, looking for Kairos to make arrangements. I found him out in the wood around the inn, reclining in the heart of a tree, looking at the sky. Osmost was making lazy circles, hunting, and we both watched as he swooped, silent and deadly, striking for a kill.

  “So Galen says we’re going to the desert,” Kairos said without looking back.

  “Yes,” I said, coming beside the tree.

  He nodded. “Good.”

  “What happened?” I asked, my voice low. “Since we parted.”

  His eyes swept down, but he still didn’t look at me. His throat bobbed. “After you put up an epic fit?” he asked, but his joke didn’t work. “I had you,” he said, shaking his head. “I had you, and then your power just ripped me away from you. I couldn’t hold on, Shy,” he told me, and he finally looked to me. The pain in my brother’s eyes tore at me. “I’m so sorry. I couldn’t hold on.”

  I shook my head. “I’m sorry I couldn’t save them, Kai.”

  He looked thoroughly confused. “What? How could you save them?”

  I pushed a tear off my cheek before it fell completely. “What good is this damned power if I can’t protect them? I should have learned to use it earlier. I was just so frightened of it—of Calix—”

  Kairos waved his hand. “Unfortunately, my dear sister, you’re not allowed to take credit for the actions of others.” He rubbed his hands over his knees. “Even if it would make it easier to blame yourself. To feel like you had some kind of control in the situation.”

  I crossed my arms. “Then why do you get to be sorry for Calix capturing me?”

  He looked at me with a sadder version of his sly smile. “I’m older; I get to make the rules.”

  I gave him the best smile I could muster.

  But his smile faded. “And I should have known,” he said softly, squinting into the forest rather than meeting my gaze. “The visions—I should have figured it out sooner. And I was so clouded trying to make sense of visions of our family buried in rock that I didn’t look past it. I didn’t know what was coming for you.”

  I wanted to tell him that like his vision of our family, there might have been nothing he could have done to change what happened to me, but it felt too much like rubbing salt in a wound. I put my hand on his arm, and tried to let that say everything I couldn’t.

  He cleared his throat. “So Galen?” he asked.

  A piece of quartz in the dirt near the roots of the tree caught my attention, and I unearthed it with my shoe, delaying my answer. “I think Rian is going to murder him.”

  Kai smiled. “Not everyone is quite so enlightened as I am.” I made a face, and Kairos’s smile broke wider. “Rian wants you to be happy. Galen makes you happy—he’ll see that eventually. But he’s been lied to, and no one enjoys that.”

  I ran my finger over the tree bark. “I love him, Kai,” I told him.

  “I’ve known that for a while,” he said. He sighed. “I think I knew that before you did.”

  “You did not!”

  He looked at me and raised his eyebrows. “The day you selected the Saepia. Knew it then.”

  “I didn’t love him then!”

  “But I could see that you would.” He shifted in the tree. “Go find Rian; Osmost is about to come back with something exceptionally bloody, and I’d rather spare you the violence of it all.”

  “Very well,” I said, pushing off the tree. “I love you, Kai.”

  He didn’t look at me. “Love you too.”

  I heard Osmost’s cry as I turned away and didn’t look back to see what he’d caught.

  It wasn’t difficult to find my oldest brother. He was in the common room of the inn, sharpening his sword and looking out the window to where Kairos was in the tree. When I came in, he looked down.

  “Were you watching us?” I asked, sitting across from him.

  “Yes,” he said. “I’m not letting either one of you out of my sight. Ever.”

  “You punched Galen.”

  His jaw knotted with tense muscle, but he didn’t respond.

  “Rian.”

  “What do you want me to do, Shalia? I can only imagine what kind of advances he’s made on you. You trusted him, and he abused that. He dishonored you—”

  “No,” I snapped. “Do not say that anymore. My honor has nothing to do with what man is married to me, or touching me, or loves me. I will not be broken or diminished or belittled by the choices of men around me. Do you understand me, Rian d’Dragyn?”

  He stopped sharpening and looked up at me. His eyes darted over my face for a moment, and he said, “I understand.”

  “Good.”

  His hands moved on the blade again, slowly dragging the whetstone to sharpen the blade. “You sound like Mother, you know.”

  My eyes shut. That was everything I had ever wanted, but now—now—

  “It’s a good thing,” he said, his voice rough. I looked at him, and he raised his head up, his eyes bright and ringed with moisture. He sniffed and fixed his eyes on his sword again.

  “I’m worried, Shalia, and I have that right. You don’t know him like I do. There’s no one else I would want beside me in a fight, but he will hurt you.”

  “I’ve been hurt,” I said softly. “And if he does hurt me, it won’t be the same way Calix did. Galen’s heart is strong and good.”

  Rian’s throat worked. “What heart, Shalia? Galen may have emerged on the side of good in that family, but none of them are unscathed. Calix? Danae? They’re damaged. They’re broken. Galen has been lying to everyone he loves for years. He has killed for one cause while he believes in another. He is the most dangerous man I have ever met.”

  “And you don’t have to see what I do,” I told him. He opened his mouth, and I raised my hand. “I trust him, Rian. I trust him and his heart.”

  “Shalia,” Rian said, frowning at me. “You’ve always been tenderhearted, but he is not a bird with a broken wing.”

  “Calix betrayed me in every way I can imagine,” I told Rian, my voice soft. “He stole my will. My voice. He made me feel small, and quiet, and trapped. Galen has protected me, at great cost to himself. He’s made me feel valued, and valuable, and precious, and loved. He doesn’t see his own valor, his own worth, and I think it’s shameful that you claim to be his friend and don’t see it either.” Rian scowled at me. “Galen may be broken, but I have been broken too. And if we can break and rebuild together, that’s all I want.”

  Rian swallowed, shaking his head. “I want more for you. I will always want more for you.”

  “It’s my choice, Rian,” I told him. “After everything that’s happened, don’t take my choice away.”

  He sniffed. “I don’t regret punching him.”

  I crossed my arms. “I suppose that’s your choice.”

  Rian looked out at the darkening sky. “You should sleep. We’re going to be moving fast tomorrow, and you’ve been through a lot. As has my niece,” he said, looking to my stomach.

  I smiled. “I’ll try. Is there somewhere to send the other Elementae? They don’t want to come to the desert, and they need to be safe. To heal in more ways than Kata can give.”

  He nodded. “I’ll see to it.”

  “Are you going to stay here until Kairos comes in?”

  “Yes.”

  “Very well. Good night, Rian,” I told him, going around to kiss his cheek. He touched my arm for a quick moment and let me go.

  I didn’t go to my room. I drifted down the hallway, wondering how I could figure out which room Galen was in without bursting in, or knocking, or somehow making myself known. I walked the long hallway twice when a door opened.

  Spinning around, I spotted one of the soldiers. He stopped when he saw me, and I froze. Blushing and feeling utterly foolish, I went back to my own room, shaking my head as I shut the door.

  “Oh.”

  I knew his voice even from such a soft syllable, and I looked up to see Galen standing by the window.


  “Galen,” I said.

  “I was just making sure no one can get up here,” he said. “The windows seem sturdy, and I’m fairly certain that the pitch of the lower roof would take a while to climb. However, if we get ambushed, we might be able to make use of it for escape. But still, I’ll have a guard outside, just to make sure.” He was flushing, the red bright on his skin from his flimsy excuse, and he nodded once before starting to move toward the door.

  “I was trying to find you,” I said.

  He halted, his eyes wide, watching me. “You were.”

  He was closer now, and I could see the redness near his eye where Rian had punched him. I touched it gingerly, and he smiled, a tiny, wry thing. “That doesn’t hurt?” I asked.

  His eyes swept over my face. “I can’t really feel pain when you’re touching me like that.” The smile widened. “Or when you’re touching me at all.” Then he saw my wrist, and the white lines that remained from where Kata healed the wounds left by the manacles. He caught my hand in both of his, brushing his fingers over the scar.

  His breathing was heavy and erratic as he touched me, not speaking. “Galen?” I whispered.

  “He tortured you. He was supposed to love you, and he tortured you.”

  “No,” I murmured. “Not in the way you think.”

  This drew his stark gaze to mine, and there was so much fear there. Fear for me. “Shalia, he knew how to torture you in a way that was far more effective. Just because he didn’t strike you doesn’t mean it wasn’t torture.”

  I couldn’t deny how true that felt. “Iona lost her eye. Because of me. Because I couldn’t do it. I wanted to, but I just couldn’t.”

  “Shalia,” he said again.

  “And another girl died. She couldn’t have been more than thirteen. He was right,” I told him, faster, trying to get it all out in a rush. “I was still able to use my power. I guess I just didn’t—didn’t care enough for them.”

  He stepped closer to me, and I nudged my forehead against his, closing my eyes and sinking into his touch. “No,” he said, and his chest rumbled with the sound. “That’s not your fault. Nothing he did was your fault.”

  “I should have saved them, Galen. If only I could have controlled my power.” I shook my head hard, bringing my hands up to curl my fingers in his shirt.

  He brushed kisses on my temple. “You said your power comes from your heart, didn’t you?” he whispered.

  I nodded.

  “You can’t control your heart. You can only trust it.” He took one hand, and brought it to his lips, kissing my knuckles. “Like I trust you with mine.”

  He looked at me, slowly, for a long time. His eyes traced over every part of my face, and a slow smile came over his mouth. “I love you, Shalia d’Dragyn. Your heart is my heart.” He took the hand he was holding and put it on his chest, like I could feel his heart there. He drew a long breath under my hand. “And I know right now, the only thing you can think of is surviving, and grieving, and being free of my brother. But when that happens, I will be there. I will keep you and your baby safe for the rest of your days.”

  My fingers eased on his chest, straightening and smoothing over his shirt, and I wondered if it were that easy, to take something and hold it. “I don’t want that.”

  He looked like I had struck him, and my fingers wandered, finding the pulse at the base of his neck. This seemed more tangible, a brighter piece of his heart for me to hold.

  “I went from being a sister and a daughter to a wife, a guarded queen. I have little idea what my life will be like if I’m free from Calix, but I don’t want to be something you protect. I won’t teach my daughter that her only choice is to be sheltered by the men around her. I want to stand beside you,” I told him, running my fingers lightly over his chest. “I want to learn to fight with you. I won’t accept you as a protector,” I whispered. His eyes were wet, shining and bright green because of it. “But I will accept you as something else. Something far greater. Because with whatever scraps of my heart are left, I love you too, Galen.”

  My breath shuddered as it came out, but I leaned up, staring at his green eyes. I pressed forward, grazing his upper lip, opening my mouth to kiss his bottom lip.

  Then he moved, and his mouth opened to meet mine. His tongue stroked into my mouth, and I raised my arms, twining them around his neck, our bodies sliding together. His hands ran down my sides, making my skin feel hot and alive everywhere he touched.

  With relief so sharp it felt like pain, the threads strained against my fingertips, and I stepped back from his arms, holding up my hands.

  “Your power?” he asked.

  I gazed at him, his hair spiky and dark and slightly disheveled, his chest rising and falling hard. I nodded, and stepped back into his arms, pressing my mouth to the cords in his neck. His pulse hammered under my lips.

  “Shalia,” he said, catching my shoulders. “I shouldn’t do this. I can’t do this. You just lost your family, you almost lost your child—”

  “You’re not doing anything,” I told him. “We’re doing something. And after all the pain of the past few weeks, I want to know what this is really supposed to feel like. What it is to be touched by someone who moves the heaven and stars for you. Please give that to me, Galen.”

  His thumb touched my lip, and his eyes followed, like he couldn’t look away. “It won’t fix anything. It won’t change anything he did.”

  “No,” I told him. “It won’t be about him at all.” I kissed the pad of his thumb on my lip. “It will be different, with you, won’t it?” I asked him, my voice quiet and small.

  “I’ve never been so damn scared to touch a woman in my life,” he whispered, his fingertips on my shoulder, barely grazing my skin. “So I’m fairly sure it’s different for me.”

  My shoulders drew up. “I meant … with you, when you touch me, I feel things that I’ve never felt.”

  His fingers brushed my hair back, letting it slide over the skin of my shoulders, and following it with his fingertips. “I like the sound of that,” he whispered.

  His touch made me dizzy, but my thoughts sobered me. “Every time with him, it was awful,” I breathed.

  He swallowed, meeting my gaze, touching my face. “My sweet,” he whispered. “It will be different. The only thing I want you to feel with me is pleasure. My love,” he said, kissing my cheek. His lips moved to the corner of my mouth. “My lovely dragon.” He pulled back a little.

  Tentatively, I moved forward until our lips met again, and his hands fell, going to my waist and back, pulling me tight against him. His mouth left mine a moment later, kissing my chin, my jaw, my throat. His hands pulled up to slide under the coat and slip the garment off me. I shivered against him, and he kept kissing me.

  I had never had a desire to touch Calix, but now my hands were restless and busy, trying to touch as much of Galen as I could. I pushed off his jacket and ran my hands over his shirt, feeling the firm knots of muscle as they moved and twisted and leaped up to meet my fingers. I loved how he couldn’t seem to catch his breath, and I felt his heart beating hard under his skin, everywhere I touched.

  He loosened the cords keeping my dress together beneath my breasts and around my waist, and as he pulled the knot, his fingers brushed my stomach and he stilled. He kissed his way down my covered body as he knelt in front of me, parting the cloth to show my stomach to him. His hands covered my child as he kissed me.

  “You can feel her,” he breathed, covering the spot where my skin had turned from soft to firm. He pressed a chaste, earnest kiss there, and stood up, looking at me. “You’re a miracle, Shalia. And this child—it doesn’t matter to me who her father is. I will love her like my own every day of my life. You know that, don’t you?”

  I ran my fingers through his hair and pulled his mouth to mine to keep from crying again, and I started tugging ineffectively at his clothes.

  He broke our kiss to pull his shirt over his head and looked at me again. “You’re sure?” he
asked.

  Nodding, I let the cloth of the dress slip off my shoulders.

  He stared at me for many long moments, and then leaped into action, shucking his clothes in seconds and coming to me, wrapping his warm arms around me as he led me to the bed.

  The threads crackled around me, but I let them slide away from my fingers. Galen was right; I had to put my faith in my heart, in my power, in him. I let it go, and I felt the power shimmering around us, soaking into everything that was of the earth as he touched me. I didn’t have to try to control it; it was just there.

  I couldn’t help but think of Calix, and the way he touched me when I didn’t want it, the way it was never my choice. Twice I stopped, touching Galen’s face until I was sure it was him and not his brother, and both times Galen waited, halting until I asked him to continue.

  The second time I felt embarrassed tears in my eyes, and I tried to laugh them away. “You have excellent self-control, you know,” I told him.

  He frowned at me, kissing me gently. “What control would I need? There’s nothing exciting about the idea of hurting the woman you love, Shalia.”

  I stroked his back, pulling him closer to me. “You love me,” I whispered.

  He grinned, a sweet, bright smile. “I love you,” he said.

  I knew then what my mother meant when I was first married, when she told me that this was wondrous, the most intimate act that two people could share.

  It had nothing to do with the closeness of our bodies. It felt like he saw everything I was, full of hope and scars and faults and love. He let me see him the same way, without his armor and masks. Open, and whole.

  He continued when I asked him to, and as our lips met, everything seemed to shift inside that kiss, a new future spinning out in each other’s arms.

  Over the Edge

  We woke in the night to shouting. My heart seized for a moment, the terror of the past few days overtaking me, but Galen caught me. “Hush,” he said gently. “Something’s happening. I have to go see what it is. Stay away from the windows and don’t open the door.”