Children of the Sun

by Linda Winstead Jones

  “We can fight them,” Keelia said in a lowered voice.

  “We?” They would eat her alive. They would tear her apart.

  “We. Truce, remember? Anwyn and Caradon fighting together.” She looked up at him. “It starts here.”

  The first beast leapt through the wall of fire, and Joryn placed himself between the creature and Keelia. A blast of fire blinded the creature for a moment, giving Joryn time to thrust his knife into the chest where a heart should be. The mutant fell.

  Another had already entered the circle of flame, and Keelia faced it bravely. Her arms were transformed, her claws ready. The sight of those claws took the creature by surprise, long enough for Keelia to swipe out and open its throat. It fell to the ground without ever touching her.

  She was not only strong; she was fast, much faster than he had imagined was possible. The hideous beasts were frightening in their deformity and their rage, but Keelia displayed no fear as she fought. The second beast she faced was prepared for her claws, so the fight was not as simple as the first. Joryn wanted to assist her, but he had his own attacker to battle. The creature was not afraid of fire, and it took several attempts to harm the tough monster.

  That’s what these things were, Joryn decided. Once Caradon or not, they were now monsters who needed to be destroyed if they could not be saved. He had put three down, Keelia had defeated two. As it seemed that the battle was done, her arms became a woman’s soft, seemingly gentle arms once again, and she took a long, deep breath that spoke of relief. Joryn allowed the wall of fire to die.

  The last thing he wanted or needed was this grudging admiration for the Anwyn Queen. But she fought well; she did not demur or wail in the face of danger, not even when that danger arrived in the form of decidedly unpleasant monstrosities. Perhaps she was accustomed to getting her own way, perhaps she did think she was entitled to command all that she desired, but she was not entirely spoiled and useless. Admiring her bravery and her willingness to fight made her even more attractive. Had he ever wanted a woman more?

  They believed that the battle was over, that they were safe at last, and then the creature by the stream, the one which was apparently harmless, rushed toward them, screaming a ghastly, earsplitting shriek.

  Joryn turned and grabbed Keelia, trying to move her out of the creature’s way as the beast hurled itself into the air and intercepted a sixth attacker who leapt from the woods.

  The two beasts wrestled, rolling across the ground just a few feet away as they bit and slashed. Deformed claws lashed out, grappled, and drew blood. Teeth were bared and used with vehemence until the gentle creature fell still, his throat bleeding and his heart ripped out of his chest.

  The monster that had appeared last, the one which had killed the gentler creature, immediately sprang toward Joryn. The thing was female, smaller than the others but just as bloodthirsty, as was evidenced by the dead mutant on the ground. Keelia’s claws appeared and Joryn readied a ball of fire, which might at least slow the beast’s progress. At the last moment the monster shifted course and came in low, burying her teeth in Joryn’s leg just above his boot.

  It happened quickly. Tearing through his trousers with sharp teeth had been no problem for the thing, and she chomped down with vigor and even joy. Joryn felt the venom enter his blood. It burned as it spread, moving into his veins too fast for him to think that he might be able to stop the infection.

  For a moment he froze, realizing his fate was sealed, knowing that on the rise of the next full moon he would become like them. A monster. A thing which should not exist.

  It was Keelia who grabbed the creature by the ears and yanked its ugly mouth away from his body. Her strength surprised the thing, and they took advantage of that disbelief. Before it had a chance to turn on the woman who had pulled it away from its prey, Joryn sliced his dagger blade across the monster’s throat.

  The female didn’t die instantly, but instead dropped to the ground and twitched a few times before falling still.

  Suddenly all was quiet in the once peaceful clearing. Joryn didn’t move. Keelia stared down at his bleeding, infected leg, as motionless as he. Blood soaked his trousers and the top of his boot, making clear that he’d been well and deeply bitten.

  “We can fix this, can’t we?” she said, her words quick and low. “Your Grandmother, the Grandmother, she can fashion a spell or a potion or something that will stop—”

  “No,” he interrupted sharply. “If she could bring an end to this madness alone, she would not have sent me to fetch you.”

  “Kidnap,” she corrected without her usual fervor. “You kidnapped me.”

  He hadn’t thought the Anwyn Queen capable of shedding tears for a Caradon, but as she stared at his wound, tears dripped down her delicate, pale cheeks.

  Chapter Six

  “It’s not too bad,” Keelia said, her voice quick and a touch too high-pitched. “Maybe you aren’t infected. It’s possible that the spreading of the disease only happens in some instances, not all. Maybe...”

  “I can feel it,” Joryn said as he sat down by the stream and rolled up his trouser leg to expose the break in his skin. Like her, he would heal quickly. Of course, it wasn’t the external wound that concerned her, but the poison that was rushing through his bloodstream at this moment, dooming him to become, on the rise of the next full moon, like the repulsive creatures who had attacked.

  Shaking, Keelia sat beside the wounded Caradon. It was the battle that affected her so deeply that tears welled up in her eyes and her entire body trembled. She had been trained in defense, of course, but she had never participated in an actual battle before today. That was the reason for her pounding heart and the heated rise of emotion, not Joryn’s injury or the fact—no, the possibility—that he would turn into one of the cursed creatures in a few short weeks. He was Caradon, after all, and he’d kidnapped her. He was an insufferable enemy, an insolent man, and she could not suffer this pain on his account.

  It was the dreams and visions which made her think of him more fondly than she should, and those fantasies were not real. If he became a monster, it was not her concern. True, their partnership would have to be severed if he became evil and twisted, but...

  “I want you to kill me before I turn into one of those things,” Joryn said, his voice calm and certain. “I will try to accomplish all that we must do before the next full moon, but if I don’t...”

  “I will not kill you,” Keelia blurted, before she thought to curb her emotion. Like it or not, she did care. Whether the emotion was real or a product of fantasy didn’t seem to make any difference. She did care. “What if you are not affected? We don’t know everything about this curse, and if it’s possible that you are not going to... to...” Turn into a monster, lose your soul, become like those aberrations. She shook off the disturbing thoughts and tried to gain control of her emotions. “It would be foolish of me to kill you before your tasks have been completed.” Best to make it sound as if she cared only for their mission, not for him personally.

  “At least promise me that you’ll kill me if I do turn into one of those things.”

  Keelia pursed her lips. She should not even hesitate, but her heart clenched. It was a connection created in her own mind, she realized, that made her feel more for this enemy than she should. As genuine as the visions seemed, those images of love were not real. They were fantasy. They were illusion.

  Besides, she would not want to survive if she were cursed in such a way, so she understood his request. “All right,” she said gently. “If you become like them and there is no other choice, I will take your life.”

  He looked down at her. “Swear it.”

  Again, she hesitated. Taking the lives of the attackers had given her no pause, not then or now, but where Joryn was concerned... She reminded herself of who and what he was, and nodded her head crisply. “I swear it.”

  He was visibly relieved.

  “If you would remove that bracelet you wear,” she said innoc
ently, “perhaps I could see into your future and tell you whether or not you will be infected.”

  “That would be a useless exercise. I know I have been—”

  “Oh, you don’t know anything,” she snapped. “This is a new and unheard of corruption of the body and soul. How can we say with any certainty that everyone who’s bitten will become like them?”

  “The Grandmother said it was true.”

  “Did the Grandmother see that you would be bitten?”

  “No,” Joryn answered crisply.

  “Then she is not without flaw in her divination.”

  Joryn twisted the wide bracelet on his wrist, but did not remove it. “Why was the first creature we encountered different from the others?” he asked. “He was not evil, he even assisted us in the fight and paid with his life, such as it was. Why was he not a member of the pack that ambushed us?”

  Keelia glanced back at the bodies which littered the landscape, her eyes landing on the beast in question. If she were to be killed while she was a wolf, she would soon shift to her human form. The same was true of all Anwyn, and Caradon as well. These beasts did not shift; they remained twisted and unnatural in death as they had been in life. She took a deep breath and reached for the knowledge she needed. Some she already knew, just from the moments she had spent speaking to the creature, but she wanted—needed—more.

  “The curse doesn’t just twist their bodies, it takes their very souls. A darkness rises up from the ground...” She shuddered. What she sensed was very much like her dreams of the atrocities that were taking place among humans, in the lands below her mountain home. “It rises up and takes their souls. Some few, like the first beast we met here, fight for their souls. They cling to their spirits and deny the demon what he intends to steal and feed upon. It isn’t easy, and the battle is constant, so they are in great pain and eventually they understand that they will lose. That’s why they jump off cliffs or cut their own throats, or...”

  “Or throw themselves into a battle which they know they cannot win.”

  “Yes,” Keelia answered softly.

  She did not like the worry that welled up inside her. Again she reminded herself that Joryn was Caradon, and that he had disabled her and snatched her from her home and mocked her and refused her and... and he was fighting for his people, in the same way she would fight for hers.

  “Our plans must change,” she said in a crisp and authoritative tone of voice. “Instead of wasting time going to see your witch for more information, we need to find the Caradon wizard who is behind this curse as soon as is possible. Once the stone I saw in my vision is destroyed, the curse will be ended. I’m not sure what will happen to those who have already been transformed. The ones who have been able to fight for their souls might return to their normal selves. Those who have lost their souls”—she shuddered at the very thought of such an unnatural tragedy—“I don’t know what will happen to them. Their souls have been taken. Maybe they’ll be returned when the curse is ended, but it’s possible those souls are simply... gone.” She turned her mind to what she did know. “If we can destroy that stone, I’m certain that you, and any others who’ve been bitten since the last full moon, won’t suffer the change on the next full moon.”

  “What if the Grandmother can lead us to this wizard?” Joryn asked.

  “What if she can’t, and we waste precious days which we cannot afford to waste?” She looked again at the wide silver bracelet on his wrist. “I can’t see everything, not from here, but if you would remove that enchanted bracelet and allow me to reach for what is meant for you in the days and weeks to come, then—”

  “What if I don’t want you peeking into my head?” he snapped.

  “You would rather become like them than let me help you?” She did not look at the bodies behind her, but she jutted one finger in that direction. “That doesn’t seem to be a very smart decision, and until now it never occurred to me that you were stupid. Stubborn, insubordinate, bad-mannered, and immoral, yes. But not stupid.”

  He didn’t make a move, and Keelia finally lost her temper. “I demand that you remove that bracelet immediately.” Her hand shot out and she clamped her fingers over the enchanted silver. She wanted to know if the man who had kidnapped her would change, like the monsters they had slain. She wanted to know if he would be in terrible pain, if he would fight for his soul until his last breath. She wanted to know if they would find the blasted Caradon wizard and undo his dark work before it was too late.

  Joryn’s hand clamped over hers. “You’re very fast,” he said.

  “When I need to be.”

  Again his eyes caught and held hers, and she was reminded of her dreams. “You could’ve escaped any number of times, once you were out of your prison cell.”

  She swallowed hard. “I gave my word, and whether I like it or not, I do believe that you and I are meant to work together.”

  “Work,” he whispered.

  “Yes, work.”

  With some hesitation, he removed his hand from hers. “Take it, then. Take the bracelet, and tell me what you see.”

  With caution, Keelia worked the silver band up and off Joryn’s thick, muscled wrist. For the first time, she was afraid of what she might see. What if she learned that he was her mate, the one she had waited for all her life? What if she saw that he was meant to become a monster like those they had battled, forever cursed?

  What if she saw that her dreams and visions were meant to become real?

  The end of the bracelet snagged on his arm, and then came free. Keelia waited for a rush of knowledge, but nothing happened. Of course, she continued to hold the enchanted piece that protected his mind. She dropped the bracelet to the ground, expecting something to come to her. Again, all was silent. Dark. So quiet.

  In desperation, she reached out and grasped Joryn’s wrist in her small hand, her fingers taking the place of the bracelet. Even though her gift had been dampened, she should feel something. A wave of emotion, a glimpse of the future, a vision of his past. Her fingers tightened and she closed her eyes.

  Nothing.

  ***

  Judging by the expression on her face, the news wasn’t good. Joryn began to think he’d be better off not knowing what the future held.

  Keelia’s grip on his wrist tightened until it was almost painful. For a little thing, she was surprisingly strong. She could’ve put up an impressive fight at any time along the way, but she hadn’t. Was she truly honoring her part of the truce, as she’d said? The Anwyn were annoyingly straitlaced and law-abiding in many ways, so that was possible.

  Finally she yanked her hand away as if she had been burned by his skin, and turned her attention to the stream before them. She apparently found the rush of water fascinating, the way she stared at the rivulets dancing over stone. Her jaw was tighter than usual, her lips slightly thinned.

  “Well?” he prompted.

  “I believe you are still tainted by the bracelet’s protection. The magic apparently has a lingering affect.”

  “What does that mean? You’re not seeing clearly?”

  “I’m not seeing anything,” she snapped.

  “Oh.” He leaned back, propping up on his elbows in a deceptively casual pose. “Does that happen often?”

  “It never happens,” she said. She screwed up her mouth in a way that told him she wasn’t sharing everything. “As I told you, my gift has been affected in some way in months past, but I can always see something of a person when I attempt to do so.” Again, she pursed her lips in evident frustration.

  “But...” he drawled, prompting her to go on.

  Her chin came, up, and her spine stiffened. “When my mother and father first met, she couldn’t see into him the way she did other people.” She spoke without emotion, even though a muscle in her jaw twitched. “He was able to block her ability to see his thoughts. Mother said it was a part of their connection, a sign of their destiny to be mated. He had to give himself to her freely, body, soul, and m
ind. He could not be subjected to an intrusion against his will.”

  “I don’t understand.” What did her parents have to do with this?

  “Neither do I, entirely. It’s really not... possible.”

  “What’s not possible?”

  She sighed and turned to look at him, her eyes narrowing slightly. “Over the years my mother speculated that when my mate did show himself to me, I would not be able to read his thoughts, as I do others. She suggested that in that way I might know who my mate is, if I don’t sense him in the normal way.” She squirmed, a little. “I don’t sense anything of you, and that does make me wonder...”

  Joryn almost forgot about his wound, and his fate. “I’m not anyone’s mate for life. The Caradon don’t live that way.”

  “I know that,” Keelia said sharply. “Do you think I want to consider the possibility that my mate is a Caradon? Prophesy or no prophesy, it is entirely unacceptable.”

  “Maybe we’re worrying about nothing, and the problem is a lingering magic from the bracelet the Grandmother made for me.”

  “Maybe,” she said, her voice slightly less strident. “When were you born?”

  “What difference does it make?”

  “Anwyn mates are born on the same day, or very close to it. They come into the world intended for one another. So, when were you born?”

  “Early summer, twenty-five years ago.”

  She sighed. “Me, too.”

  Joryn leapt to his feet. “This is ridiculous. I’m not meant to be bound to any one woman, least of all an overbearing Anwyn Queen who is quite comfortable when it comes to issuing commands.”

  “Surely some of your people form lifelong bonds. They’re not all vagabonds who spend their lives unconnected and wild and alone. Are they?”

  She seemed horrified by the prospect of living life alone, when in truth it was all Joryn had ever wanted. What he perceived as freedom, she apparently saw as loneliness. What he wanted most, she feared.