by RJ Scott
"I can't leave immediately. I need more training. There are books I need to see in the library, magik I must try to understand. Will you make yourself comfortable in my closed quarters and assist me?"
"Of course I will, Guardian. It is my role in this to support you."
Guardian smiled ruefully. "You make it easy for me to go and do what I need to do. Can you not tell me instead that I can stay here and not have to worry?"
"I wish I could, youngling." Guardian shivered at the resignation in Madoc's voice. "I wish I could."
Chapter 4
Ceithin smelled the familiar scents of home. The chill of night that heralded the impending winter was pushed back by the low, early morning sun. The canopy of gold and red leaves provided shelter from the rain as they drew closer to home. They were little more than an hour away, and each bush, all of the trees, every path, all that lay around them was as familiar to Ceithin as the siding on his own home was familiar to Darach. With each stride of their horses, memories of the City faded as Ceithin let his guard down and welcomed his world, his home, back into his heart.
Darach was finally, blissfully, quiet next to him, and the horses had slowed to a sedate but constant walk, the rolling gait lulling the other man to a half doze in the saddle. The path they followed climbed gently until finally they reached the cliff overlooking the south plains. Every last bit of tension slid from Ceithin's shoulders. He allowed some of his Fire to call to his father's, letting his family know he was home, then he pulled his mount to a halt. With a soft word, the mare stopped next to him.
"Darach?"
Unimpeded blue shimmering about him, Darach half opened his eyes with a small groan, catching himself as gravity tried to pull him from his seat. "Are we here?" He coughed and unconsciously moved a hand over his chest as if it hurt. Ceithin imagined the damp and the ride had taken its toll on the youngling and he leaned over the horse, placing a hand on Darach's thigh, feeling the tension in him. Like iron, he was stiff and unyielding against Ceithin's palm. However, his touch provided enough contact to allow Ceithin to pass over some of his scarlet Fire, which he knew would heal any infection inside his companion.
"Don't," Darach protested weakly. He pushed the hand away ineffectually, gasping as the crackle of their two Fires spat at them. Blue Fire and the tempestuous scarlet were not best suited, if the writings of the Ancients were to be believed. Ceithin sighed inwardly at both Darach's protests and the snap of the Fires. Color flooded Darach's face, and he half smiled, sleepy and unfocused. Ceithin's gut clenched at the sight of the man whose Fire tempted his own. Lulled into a false sense of security by the beautiful smile, Ceithin was stunned when Darach suddenly pulled himself back and upright, the smile disappearing in an instant.
"Get your hands off me, Cariad. I will not be violated by you." Darach's voice dripped with bitter accusation, hate, a healthy dose of fear, and a splash of outrage.
Ceithin couldn't help it. The snigger broke through his shock with explosive force. Violating Darach. God… in his dreams. "I didn't—"
"You can cast all you want." Darach was really digging his heels in on this one. "You've dragged me this far, but I won't let you inside my head as well."
"Wait. I didn't drag you here! You came of your own accord."
"You spelled me—"
"Like Annwn I did." Ceithin laughed again. "You got on that horse all by yourself, youngling. The Council on your back is enough to make any man run."
"The Council doesn't frighten me." Darach's conviction sounded so positive Ceithin sobered immediately.
"It should."
"I'm a good and noble citizen, not a murdering thief of a clan who hide like cowards in the forest."
The snap of Ceithin's finger was harsh and fast. His magik tore through the barrier Darach's Fire instinctively attempted to raise like a sharp knife through skin, finding its mark and sending Darach toppling to the ground. Ceithin followed him down, leaping from the gelding and straddling Darach, his hand curved around Darach's throat. The hold wasn't as tight as it had been against the tree or in the prison, but it was enough to mark Darach with the fizz and snap of Ceithin's anger.
"Listen here, noble—" Ceithin spat the words and leaned close in, seeing the abject fear and horror in Darach's face. "If you have heard all the stories, you know I could flay the skin from you with my thoughts or move silently into your house and kill every single member of your family, even the children."
Darach tried to buck him off but Ceithin merely wriggled to center himself and placed his other palm flat to the ground for balance. There was nothing to Darach. He was slim, spare, strong in the face, but not equal to Ceithin in either muscle or Fire. "Maybe, if you don't push me too much, I won't find a member of your family and kill them. Maybe I will just steal some children!"
Ceithin added the last with a twist to his mouth, and Darach went rigid beneath him, complete horror in his eyes, his mouth opening and closing uselessly as if he wanted to say something but didn't know what.
"Failing that, I could eat them," Ceithin finished with a smirk, his sudden temper gone as fast as it had manifested. He let Darach buck him up and off. Once he'd released his hold on Darach's neck, he rolled onto his back, grinning at Darach's anger and wondering what he was going to do next. Darach pulled his hand back, intense sapphire shimmering around him, and Ceithin had to admit he was gorgeous, all hissing disapproval and blue eyes. Eyes narrowed with intense concentration, he let the first of his Fire fly. Ceithin didn't bother to block the attack, just tensing as it coated and prickled his skin. Violet sparks danced up from the connection of Darach's blue and his own scarlet, and he watched mesmerized as the sparks flew into the air and then settled in the trees above him.
"You leave my brother alone!" Darach shouted as he hefted another shaft of Fire. This one Ceithin blocked. "You filthy Cariad." Frustration lacing his voice, Darach stopped casting Fire, clearly defeated when he realized none of it could penetrate Ceithin's wards enough to do damage.
"I was joking. I won't touch your family," Ceithin grunted, and rolled, pushing himself into a sitting position. "Contrary to popular lore, the Cariad are peaceful and have been for millennia."
Darach snorted his disbelief and clambered to stand, using the nearest tree to balance himself. "So I can go? You haven't spelled me, and you are not forcing me? I can turn and go home?" He put his hands on his hips and tilted his head to one side.
Ceithin stifled the sudden thought that his charge looked kind of cute in a messed up, pathetic way and crossed his arms over his chest. "Why did you want to find me?" It was a simple question, but he could see Darach looking down and away, not wanting to answer. "I could torture it out of you."
"You wouldn't!" Darach had a blatantly terrified look on his face again, and Ceithin merely shrugged. There was something about this youngling that brought out the child in him.
"I might." There was a faceoff, Ceithin grinning and Darach blustering with false confidence.
"It was the journal, Kian's journal. He left it for me, and it said he had made contact with the Cariad and wanted to use their ancient magik to cross the barrier." Darach's voice held disbelief. Ceithin imagined for Darach to read his friend sought Cariad help probably shook the foundations of his limited world.
"And?"
"He wrote…" He sighed deeply. "His last entry said if I wanted to follow him, then I should seek the Cariad. I had heard rumors a stray Cariad had been found so I followed them up."
"A stray?" Ceithin bristled and his Fire pushed insistent inside him, ready to cause Darach real damage for the insult.
He waved a hand in front of him. "Well, it's what we call…"
He didn't have to say any more. It was what non-Cariad called the Cariad, likening them to dogs or vermin at every turn. Ceithin knew that. He chose to ignore the slip because he wanted to know more. To know more he had to reveal some of what had happened with Kian.
"Kian came to us." There, a simple enough start
, and at least Darach looked half way interested. "Very brave to approach the forest and try and find the Cariad."
"He always was the brave one," Darach murmured.
Ceithin considered the words. Darach wasn't exactly a coward, facing down the stuff of his nightmares alone in a haunted forest. "He had nature's Fire, already had mastered many of the old ways, knew when and where to pass to the Otherworld. He needed a little extra to be able to punch a hole."
"I wanted to go with him."
"But you couldn't, could you? You had no real Fire. Kian said you were days away from your Fire's birth."
Darach dropped to a crouch, holding his hands loosely between his spread knees. He was despondent, grieving. "He left me here."
"Is he your kin somehow?" Now that was a valid question. Ceithin sensed some connection between Darach and Kian, but he just couldn't put his finger on it.
"Blood brothers. Myself, Kian, and Eoin. When we were just twelve, we swore we would be together always."
That explained a lot, and what Ceithin found most interesting was even though Darach might not believe in the old magik of the Cariad, he did have faith in the ancient ritual of blood kinship. A blood bond between two was strong, but between three it was unbreakable, irreversible. A great deal of ancient magik and the blood of each was used to make the connection. He wondered briefly what it must be like to be separated by an entire world from the other third of you.
"So Kian is gone, but where is the third, this Eoin? Did he not follow you on this adventure of yours?"
"He had amber Fire and it consumed him when he came of age."
Ceithin's eyes narrowed as Darach's voice grew cold and emotionless. Amber Fire was the most powerful of all Fire. The Council members all possessed some version of amber gold. The color was the most volatile. Incredibly rare, it was sought after and jealously hoarded. There were only two with amber in the Valley, his own father and a distant cousin. "I am sorry." He genuinely was more than just simply sorry. He had seen the Fire go wrong before. The end for the hapless person who bore it was quick, but immolation was also a terrible way to lose your life.
"The bond we had with him died in the blaze."
"It would."
"And then Kian left. So it is just me."
"And your family?"
"My parents died a long time ago, and I have an older brother who is training for council assistant and had left our home. He is getting married next month."
"You have no plans for marriage then, youngling?"
"Why do you call me that? I am twenty-one, and I have my Fire now. Stop calling me that when you can be no more than a few years older than me." Darach pushed himself up and stretched out the muscles he had used to stay crouched.
Ceithin desperately wanted to have a quip ready as a comeback, but he had nothing. Limping slightly, he walked to the horses. If they pushed, they could be in the Valley by nightfall. When they were both seated on their mounts and had started to move off, Ceithin deliberately kept the pace slow so they could talk.
"You asked why I called you youngling, and I guess it is because the Fire in a Cariad isn't new like yours. I may only be twenty-five, but my Fire is one of the most ancient in my clan."
* * * *
"Will you tell me your name?" Darach asked as the warmth of the day began to wrap around them. He tried to say it as confidently as he could. He couldn't keep on calling him the Cariad bastard. He winced as the Cariad turned in the saddle and just stared at him.
"Ceithin," he replied, and then turned back to concentrate as his mount scrambled up the shallow banks of the stream.
Darach turned the name over in his mind. Ceithin. A strong name and one he hadn't heard before. Ceithin with the red Fire of a healer. He had never seen scarlet Fire before. It was rarer than one of Kian's jokes. There were maybe a handful of healers in the City, and their skills were prized. As he tried to stay upright on the damn horse, he wracked his brain for spells and magik that could maybe defeat the thrall of red Fire. Because, clearly, despite assurances to the contrary, this Ceithin had spelled Darach to follow him into the forest and across the river that marked the county border. He wouldn't have gone otherwise.
"Ceithin," Darach murmured to himself as first the gelding and then his mare broke into a canter along the steadily widening path. More riding was not doing him any good.
Just then, Ceithin reined in his mount, which stopped immediately. Leaning forward over the gelding's neck, Ceithin whispered then sat up and turned, catching Darach's mare's reins. They stood, and Darach blinked at the sun emerging through the morning rain.
"Look," Ceithin said, his voice soft, and Darach lifted his gaze to follow the line of Ceithin's gaze.
They had moved out of the tree cover and now looked down over a long, narrow valley with beautiful sloping grass-clad sides, a deep decline to a river at the base carved by ice many millions of years ago. There were water courses making their way in long straight falls, and rainbows that curved into the sky towards the sun. Paradise. All of it was so perfect—the smell of it, the taste of the air, the spectrum of color casting a hue of light Darach had never seen before.
"Beautiful." He breathed the single word.
"Enfys yn disgyn," Ceithin said simply, a smile on his face, his eyes lit with happiness.
"Rainbow Falls," Darach whispered, translating the Ancient and finding himself unable to do anything but smile back.
Ceithin nudged the mare forward and they began following a path Darach hadn't even seen. A shallow fall twisted in and around water and rocks. Trees and plants were so vivid a green the brilliance of the hues almost hurt the eyes.
Kian would be so happy here. He loved nature, loved things he could grow and touch, although not many people outside himself, Darach, and Eoin had known this.
Before too long, they reached the bank of the river. The sounds of water rushing over and around boulders were deep and resonant, giving a hint of the stream's depth. Darach hoped to Annwn they didn't have to cross it on horseback. He didn't know if he could survive a combination of his fear of horses and the whole I-can't-swim problem.
"There's a bridge."
Ceithin was smirking, damn Cariad, and Darach pasted what he hoped was a disinterested expression on his face. They crossed the bridge, solidly built of wood and stone, and the air changed as soon as they reached the other side. He might only be a baby with his Fire, but he knew wards when he passed through them. They had crossed some kind of barrier, and he remained intact. He consciously checked himself over, including touching the Fire coiled inside him, just making sure everything was still in place and pointedly ignoring Ceithin's chuckle.
"Ceithin Gawain Morgan!"
Ceithin smiled broadly at the name and jumped down off of the mare in a smooth move, striding five paces to swing a woman into his arms. Tall, slim, dark hair reaching her waist, she gripped Ceithin tightly, and Darach watched with amusement as she stepped back and thumped Ceithin hard on the chest.
"Ouch! Is that really necessary?"
"You are in so much trouble! Pappa could see everything! He was all for mounting a rescue."
"I didn't need rescuing. I was fine." Ceithin's tone was underlaid with defensiveness, along with what Darach perceived as a healthy dose of guilt.
"Don't say I didn't warn you." She paused, tilted her head, and turned to face Darach, and a shiver of fear coursed through him. There was something about this woman, a certain familiarity, and his gaze moved from her to Ceithin and back. They were similar in height, in coloring, and her dark brown eyes were focused on Darach with the same unnerving perception he had seen in Ceithin. "Hello, Darach, I'm Brigid, this idiot's sister."
"Dar—" He started to introduce himself then realized she had already called him by his name. Instantly, his suspicions arose once more. He gripped the reins harder, not willing to let go of his last means of escape should he need it. Ceithin offered his hand, but Darach just shook his head. "I'm happy here."
&n
bsp; Ceithin just raised a single eyebrow with a smirk.
"The youngling thinks we are going to eat him."
Darach narrowed his eyes as Brigid slapped her brother around the back of his head.
"For Annwn's sake, don't tell me you—"
"Ouch." The tone of his voice was stern but he had a grin on his face.
"He has no respect." Brigid offered her hand to Darach. "Come on. I have people who would love to meet Kian's friend with the big heart." Funny how the smiling woman he had just met was easier to trust than Ceithin, who just stared at him, daring him to turn his sister down.
Huffing, he gripped her hand and slid as gracefully as he could from the mare's back, only stumbling slightly as the solid ground didn't give as he expected it to.
Chapter 5
Llewellyn Morgan, Ceithin's father, was a whole mountainside of intimidation. Not only did he have amber Fire, he was a big bear of a man with silver hair and a voice that was deep and certain and, at the moment, only barely this side of damn scary.
"You managed to save my son from the Council. We are grateful," he said simply as he held his hand out in welcome. Darach took the offered hand, excuses already on his lips.
"He didn't—" Ceithin attempted to interrupt. Darach smirked inwardly as Llewellyn pointedly stared Ceithin into silence.
Quite a few more people stopped to see Ceithin and the City man he had brought home with him. The one story, sprawling cabin where the Morgan family resided swarmed with Cariad as people stopped by to welcome the traveler home. Several of the visitors thanked Darach. But, and he had to be honest with himself, Ceithin was right. Darach had done little to help the Cariad escape. Darach ate with Ceithin's small family, listening to the bickering between Brigid and her husband, Alan, and Ceithin. At some points, Alan and Ceithin joined forces to annoy Brigid, but clearly she knew their measure.