The very legs beneath me gave out then, and I fell to my knees. In my mind, I screamed. CALI. No. You can’t leave. You can’t go!
She’d died without becoming my wife, without having truly been mine. I would never have the chance to love her, really love her.
Arawn’s voice brought me back. “What other choice do you have, Kellen?” Arawn said.
My mind flashed back to all that I had learned. Cali, Gabe, Dillion, Stephen…all were dead. No one was left in my life. I was out of options and Roger needed my help If I went along with Arawn, perhaps I could somehow stop him, use the amulet to keep the rest of the world safe.
Looking to Roger, my gaze locked on his own as he continued to stare at me with an evil glint in his eye. Regardless of how he’d treated me, his actions were a reflection of his own origins. They had nothing to do with me. I could no more condemn him to a life with Arawn than to walk over there and murder him myself.
Cali is dead. The statement repeated in my mind like a mantra. Cali is dead. My memory flashed back to the picture of her standing in the doorway at Gabe’s parents’ house. I’ll come back for you. Those words had been a lie.
I looked up at Arawn. “If I join you, then Roger becomes fully human and you free him.”
“Of course.” Arawn smiled.
“He’ll be sent back to school with no memory of any of this.” I continued adding more conditions, remembering Grandda’s words. “No recurring nightmares, not the slightest hint that it ever happened.” My hand idly fingered my mother’s pendant, which continued to heat up against my skin. It had almost grown uncomfortable to wear.
“You have my word.” Arawn extended a blackened hand that peeked out from beneath the sleeve of the robe. Grasping his hand in a firm grip, he surprised me with the tangible quality of his handshake. Arawn had always seemed like more of a mist to me than a solid being. His hand felt rock-hard in mine.
Refusing to let my face contort into disgust, I shook his hand. “We have a deal. I’ll join you.”
CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX
CALI—BLOOD
Watching the battle from afar, keeping track of the movements of the man in white required no effort. Who was he? He stood there, calmly battling the angels, the color of his clothing so at odds with his cause. In truth, the man looked as though he hadn’t been in a fight at all, but rather had only just woken up. His appearance was now more youthful than when I’d first glimpsed him; in minutes, he’d transformed himself from an old man to a handsome warrior. Then suddenly all the fighting ceased.
The man in white jumped atop a rock, clapping his hands to call the group to order. “Friends, I am Ainmire and I come in peace. Let us put a stop to this madness. Lord Arawn lives! What’s more, the second part of the prophecy has been fulfilled. If you’ve been fighting for the correct side, we know about it and you will be rewarded.”
“Hooray!” and “No!” came the alternating cries on the battlefield. I could see expressions of horror from many. None of them had even known Arawn was alive. Yet what role did Ainmire play in all of this? How did he know about the prophecy and Arawn?
Once again I found myself paralyzed, unable to move. Ainmire didn’t even glance my way, so it must have taken very little energy for him to freeze my mortal body.
“Perhaps our opponents should go home to their families and take this time to say…farewell.” Ainmire’s voice spurred on the group and a loud cheering followed. Then the meaning of his words settled in on me. Could it possibly be true? No, not my Kellen. He was good, good to his very core, and he would never do this. He’d probably searched everywhere for me by now, had been going mad trying to find me.
The pain intensified and I curled myself into a ball and sobbed. The need to press myself into the ground, to become invisible increased, so much so that I actually hurt myself more in the process. Even if there had been a solution for my injuries, a way to heal me, I could not live in a world where Kellen was evil.
It had to be a lie. It just had to be.
“Kellen.” My voice couldn’t rise above the sound of the dispersing armies. Many were fleeing, most likely planning their escapes, but others, the ones that appeared to be in better shape, stood around talking. No one looked at me. They had to know that I would be unable to do anything, particularly now that the portal had closed.
“Calienta.” My eyes opened at the sound of my name. The voice sounded familiar to me though I couldn’t place it. “Do not think that he chose their side, my dear. He would not do that. You know that as well as I do,” said a short man with kind hazel eyes that crinkled at the edges and made me feel calm. He carried a shotgun. I’d seen him before, somewhere, but it had become too difficult to think about anything. Even thinking tortured me, even concentrating on this man who so obviously tried to be kind to me.
Then I remembered that I’d seen him once before on a visit to Earth. “Taiclaigh, it’s you. You’re Kellen’s Grandda.”
He smiled, seeming immensely happy that I remembered him. “Yes.” He touched my cheek, his brow creased with worry. “I would have been proud to have you as a granddaughter.”
Tears streamed down my face as I stared at him. It hurt to speak and somehow he seemed to understand this. My tears were confirmation that I would have been proud to have him for a grandfather.
Gingerly, Taiclaigh reached down and touched my head. For a moment, I felt safe. He reminded me of Kellen and that brought with it a long-lost sense of peace. Perhaps it only came from Taiclaigh’s connection to Kellen, but either way the pain lessened.
When I looked up again, Taiclaigh had gone and Cabhan knelt over me, a smile on his face that seemed to convey a world of sadness. He sat down on the ground next to me and began to stroke my hair. “Cali, it’s almost time for me to go,” he said.
“What happened with the battle?”
“They claim they have won and all have retreated.”
Pain clenched my heart with a solid grip and several tears squeaked out of my eyes. Deliberately I closed them, unwilling to break down in front of my dear brother, even if he had become an angel.
“Cali, I do not believe for a moment that Kellen joined sides with them, and you should not believe it either.”
I opened my eyes again and looked at my dear brother. “I do not understand why he would even want Kellen to join him. What does Arawn want with him, apart from revenge?”
Cabhan stared at me for a moment. He seemed to be considering carefully whether or not to proceed.
Why had everyone learned the rest of the damn prophecy and I hadn’t? “Cabhan, if you know something that I don’t, then you need to tell me.”
“I wish I did.” Cabhan kept his eyes trained on me and it reminded me of the days when we would run together in the sunlight through the hills and valleys of our home. His hair would dance as he ran, always waiting for me, always making sure I was right there with him.
“Who is this man in white?”
“I have no idea, but he has immense power. Even twelve of us could not defeat him. They’re all gone now, though.” Cabhan looked around as if to double-check his own words.
Tears burned the backs of my eyes. “Why did I have to come here? What was the point of this battle, of opening the portal?”
“It was the only way to get you to our parents. To get help.”
“It wouldn’t open. It forced me back,” I insisted.
“I know. Things did not work as planned. I think that’s all down to Ainmire again.”
Shifting closer, I tried to raise my hand, to touch his cheek, but found that I could not. It stayed where it was on the cold ground. “You do know something, don’t you?” I asked, again.
“Kellen is the only one with true control over the amulet. If Ainmire claims that the other side won, than that can only mean…” He squeezed my hand.
Head spinning, I closed my eyes for a moment to suppress the dizziness. Tears slid down my cheeks. I couldn’t believe that, but I found myself asking
the question anyway. “Why would he decide to choose Arawn? To wield the amulet by his side?”
“I don’t know, but if I know Kellen at all, he probably thought he might be able to stop Arawn if he had the amulet. Cali, it was not a simple choice,” Cabhan said. “He would have been sacrificing himself regardless.”
Willock’s words came back to me. There’s no future for you with either of us. Surely you must know that. He’d know that this would happen. He’d probably even foreseen it.
The anger shook me then, forcing a scowl upon my injured face and making me cringe, twisting my heart in selfish ways. Kellen had not only sacrificed himself, but he had sacrificed our life together. Just as quickly, I let go of the anger. It wouldn’t change things.
“You sided with Arawn once. Is there anything that you can do or say to help Kellen?”
Cabhan winced at the reminder. “It was not the same. I went…willingly.”
Shaking my head, I tried to sit up, but again my limbs wouldn’t obey. “I’m sorry I reminded you. I shouldn’t have.”
Cabhan stared at me. “Cali, you have to come with me, honey.” Cabhan’s voice soothed me as though covering me with a warm blanket. What did he mean? Why would I be going with him?
“Where to?” I shouldn’t have bothered asking the question. It was obvious. The time for my death was at hand, and he was my angel come to take me home.
My eyes roamed the mountaintop and found the area empty except for Cabhan and myself. Refusing to tear my gaze from the mountain, I continued to stare ahead. “If I go with you now, I’ll never see Kell—” My throat closed up; I couldn’t finish.
Cabhan lifted his hands from my head for just a moment and pain claimed me again. Returning my gaze to meet his, I cried out, and Cabhan quickly replaced his hands. The pain lessened. “You have sustained too many injuries. Your heart will give out soon. I’ve only been masking your pain. Someday, you will see him again.”
The tears came easily and I wept. Would Kellen even know that I had died? Would he remember me? I hoped that he would, for I could not stand it if Arawn erased all of his memories of our time together.
“Cali, come with me.” Cabhan’s voice began to lull me to sleep.
Closing my eyes for a moment, nothing but white light showed behind my lids. It glided toward me. It didn’t matter what was coming. Not anymore. All of the fight in me had disappeared.
Goodbye, my love.
CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN
KELLEN—BLOOD BROTHER
The need for sleep pummeled me, urging me to give in and simply collapse on the ground from exhaustion. My muscles ached, my voice strained, my head hurt…everything hurt. I stood on the back patio that overlooked the rolling backyard of Stephen’s estate and stared into the night. My thoughts represented a jumble of emotions, but sadness played the lead role. Cali was gone. Gabe was gone.
Nothing that I did from this point on would have any meaning. There’d been too much loss in my life. Too much pain. Now my father had died too and I’d become an orphan.
Arawn’s confession that Stephen was dead—and a changeling on top of it all—wrought within me a new collection of emotions. He may not have been the most loving father, but Stephen had never let us starve or go without a roof over our heads. Though he certainly could have, he never did. Not once.
Arawn said that a changeling’s responsibility was to never let anyone know of its presence. To act normal. Though the Stephen that I’d known hadn’t been normal, this certainly explained a lot.
Placing my head in my hands, I tried to block it all out. Make it go away. Just make it all go away.
“Master Kellen.” Willock’s voice interrupted me from my reverie.
A chill went through me at hearing myself addressed like that. Turning, I looked at Willock. “Where are the servants?”
Willock stared at me. “Servants?”
“Jane, Sarah, Jesse…Where are they?”
“I fired them.” Willock’s voice sounded even. “I was too late to save the housekeeper, though.”
Nodding, I digested this information. “Before or after Arawn took over Stephen’s body?”
Willock shifted in place. “After, but before he realized that they were here.”
Nodding again, I examined him from where I stood. He’d protected them. Willock would have known that Arawn would kill them as soon as he discovered their existence.
“And you convinced him to keep Roger alive,” I said.
Willock scrutinized me now, the mocking smile that I’d come to know so well absent once again from his face. He didn’t deny it.
“You didn’t do that for me.”
“No.” Willock shook his head vehemently.
“Then you could have just taken me from the house, or let me drown, but you didn’t.” Another piece of the puzzle clicked into place. “You did it for Cali. You love her.”
Willock’s face contorted for a moment, and then he stepped onto the balcony and turned, shutting the French doors behind him. Holding his hands out in front of him, he muttered something at the door and it glowed a brilliant golden color before returning to the white trim and glass that defined it before.
He walked closer but kept his distance, choosing instead to lean against the outdoor table, which had two chairs stacked on top of it. All part of the end of summer preparations for the New York winter…
“I loved her from the first moment I laid eyes on her,” Willock confirmed.
“But she’s your cousin.”
“It doesn’t mean what it does in your world.”
“She loved me.” My words were intended to convince me as much as they did Willock. I forced a determined edge into my voice as I fought to keep the tremors from it, brought on by the chill air.
Willock touched his hand to his mouth. Was he remembering his shared kiss with Cali? Bastard. He looked at me. “I know she loves you. She never pretended any different.” He moved to stand closer to the wall. “But,” he continued, “she made me see, for just a moment, how it could be.”
His cheeks glistened with tears and I pitied him. At least I had dozens of memories with Cali. Though they still weren’t enough, they were more than the one memory that he held in his heart so carefully. The youthful appearance of the twenty-something young man that Willock once assumed was gone. Now a broken man stood before me.
“Then why are you helping Arawn?” I asked.
“Because it’s the only way—”
The door burst open behind him and Arawn stood inside the frame. Though his facial features were not distinguishable, I could sense his displeasure. “You thought to bar me entry, Willock?”
Willock stepped back for a moment, possibly to hide his face in the shadows. “No, my lord. I took the initiative to prevent Master Kellen from escaping.” His voice had that wry tone that I’d become so familiar with.
Arawn said nothing, but continued to stare at Willock until the man’s legs began to shake beneath him.
Interceding, I stepped forward. “Are we going to save my brother or not?”
Without a word, Arawn beckoned to me, turning away from Willock. The man collapsed on the patio. Not daring to stop and help him, I kept pace with Arawn as we made our way back through the house, which looked as dark and dismal as ever. Even more so, for it looked like it had fallen into a state of disrepair.
Curtains hung at odd angles from the windows, the rods broken or falling out of the wall brackets. Chairs lay sideways on the floor; newspapers were everywhere. The kitchen, which had once been so open and bright, was littered with spoilt food. Gagging, I held my breath until we passed to avoid being sick. The image of Roger in this place popped into my head. I forced it away.
When I entered the study again, a clean-cut Roger sat fully dressed on the couch next to his suitcase. His eyes were closed. Was he asleep or unconscious?
Arawn seemed to sense my questions and he snapped his fingers, causing Roger to open his eyes, much like at the end of a h
ypnosis session. Without the influence of the changeling blood in his veins, Roger had a much more positive appearance. He stared at me and then looked around for a moment. I assumed he couldn’t see Arawn, as he hadn’t even glanced in his direction. If he had, he would have gaped at his impossible form.
“Kellen?” He barely seemed to manage my name.
“Hey, Rog.” His nickname sounded foreign on my lips; I hadn’t spoken it in years.
“I didn’t know you were home. Where’s Dad?” he asked.
My head throbbed to hear Roger call Stephen Dad. Either he’d had more of a relationship with Stephen, or something in their connection made him feel like there was more there. I didn’t know.
“I’m sorry, Rog, but he died. Remember? We went to the funeral.” Glancing at Arawn, I willed him to plant memories of the funeral in Roger’s mind. It must have worked, because after a moment of what appeared to be furious pondering, Roger spoke up.
“Oh yeah. I forgot somehow.”
“You probably tried to put it out of your mind. I know I’ll be doing the same.” I let out a sigh intentionally.
“Right.” Roger glanced at the bags all around him.
“You’re going back to school tonight, huh?” I prodded, testing him out after the de-changeling process.
Roger looked at the bags again. “Looks that way.”
“Okay, well, have a safe trip.” Turning, I started walking to the door. Roger needed to leave and this conversation with him only delayed his departure.
“Kellen.”
His voice stopped me and I turned around, giving him my full attention. I hooked a thumb in my back pocket to assume a more casual stance. As if it weren’t of the utmost importance that Roger get out of there for his own safety.
“Thanks for the letters from Mom,” he said.
My stomach did a flip as I recalled the letters addressed to Roger that I’d found hidden at Gran’s. I’d sent them to Roger a couple of days before my almost wedding. “No problem.”
The Fallen Stars (A Star Child Novel) Page 30