Embers in a Dark Frost

Embers in a Dark Frost Page 35

A field littered with the dead.

Everywhere I looked was the bones and tattered remains of bodies; men, horses, and hounds. With my red hair, the only bright color in a sea of misty gray and white, I made an unmistakable target. Goosebumps flared along my skin. Nox might have made the geás to not harm Balen, but there was none when it came to me.

Shaken, I wrapped my arms around myself and moved, picking my way over and around rusted weapons and jagged bones. The field was wet and I tried not to think of what my bare feet truly stepped in as I went.

Ahead a dark mass loomed just beyond the mist. My steps slowed.

And then I saw him.

Balen. Chained to a pillar stone.

“Balen!” I ran to him, heedless of my path. His head hung low between his shoulders. His dark hair was damp from the mist and hid his face. Carefully, I lifted his chin. “Balen, it’s me, Deira.”

Save for a few bruises on his cheek and jaw he appeared unharmed. “Balen,” I tried again. “Are you hurt? Talk to me, please.”

I placed both hands on his face. His skin was ice cold, too cold for a Fire Breather. Shadows curved under his eyes. I hugged him, pressing my cheek against his, trying to give him some of my warmth, and wishing to Anu that I had power to give to him as he’d once given to me.

Desperate, I tried and tried, but there was nothing there, no power to give to him.

I prayed and pleaded and cursed the gods.

“Deira… You’re smothering me.”

Balen’s ragged voice had me biting back a cry of relief. “Are you hurt? What did he do to you? I’m going to get us out of this, I—”

“It is but an illusion.” Balen’s throat worked as he tried to swallow. He glanced around with dull, haunted eyes. “All of this.”

Illusions didn’t cut into flesh, I thought, thinking of the wound on my foot.

“Where have you been?” He frowned, staring at me as though trying to see me clearly. “You’ve been gone so long.”

“I haven’t,” I answered, confused, suddenly wondering which one of us was right. I had fainted in the hall and couldn’t say how long I’d slept. But surely it had been no more than a few minutes. Yet Balen appeared gaunt and weak, as though he’d been chained, arms behind the stone, standing up, for many days. I tested the chains, finding the lock and then inspecting it. “These don’t seem like an illusion,” I muttered.

“No.” He lifted his head as though the weight of it was very great. “All this around us, the battle field . . . it is an image of the past. Of my past.”

“Your past?” I moved around the pillar to see if I could ease the tightness of the chains. “But why?”

“Revenge.”

An iron peg had been driven through the open link in the chains, holding them up high. “Stand straighter,” I told him so that there’d be enough slack to lift the chain over the peg. Once I accomplished the task, Balen slid to the ground. His arms were still chained behind the pillar, but at least he was off his feet. I came back around the stone and knelt next to him.

He looked at me. “Before I Challenged for leadership of my house, I led my father’s legions against Nox. This, all you see around you, is the damage I wrought. I captured him and chained him, and then I left him.”

“Left him,” I echoed. “For how long?”

“I know not. It was my father’s will and I did not question him. I never questioned him. Though at times I should have. I’m not proud of what I did, Deira.” Pain filled his eyes, a deep disappointment in himself that I understood. Our rules of engagement afforded high nobility quarter in battle—imprisonment, ransom, or, at the very least, offering a clean death. Things like torture, assassination, and so on were frowned upon. Due to his station, Nox should have been treated accordingly.

But then, Nox was never treated fairly, was he? He was never given the same acknowledgements and deference as the other leaders and aristocrats of the four houses.

“It was an old grudge. My father, his father before him, and so on, they constantly warred with each other… I should have ended it.”

Sydhr choosing one son over the other had created eternal strife among his sons and their descendants forever. All this, the war against Innis Fail, the personal vendetta against Balen, stemmed from a father’s choice.

I knew what that was like.

“Deira, I have done my part. You must find the Lia Fail and return home.”

“I’m not leaving you here. Nox made a geás to me. No harm will come to you. You’ll not die. I will see you home with the Lia Fail.”

His eyes went wide and disappointed. “You have bargained with him.” He struggled against the chains. “No, Deira, no. He is the grandson of a god. He does not bargain.”

I placed my hand on his shoulder, scared by his words and the horror that flitted through his eyes. “It’s all right. I—”

“No, you don’t understand. Don’t let him into your head. You’ll start to forget why you’re here, where you’re from, who you are... You must find the Light. Find it. That’s all that matters now.”

“But I don’t know where to look,” I replied hopelessly. Then, a rush of astonishment hit me. I did know. “I do know. I know where it is. The tree in the courtyard.” The Lia Fail was part of or in that tree somehow. It had to be.

“Go then,” Balen urged. “Waste no more time.”

“But I—”

“You have to.”

“I can’t leave you . . . not like this.” I cupped his face with my hands, my throat constricting with grief. “I’m supposed to save you, you know? That was the plan.” How could I walk away and leave him alone in that place of coldness and gray? I couldn’t. I hugged him, holding him tightly, hurting inside and filled with so many regrets. “I can’t leave you.”

I cried against his neck, knowing even as I said the words that there was no other choice.

“Drem flies free,” he said, his voice choked. “As long as he lives, I live. When he no longer flies, you will know I am gone.”

I drew back, seeing the grim determination in the warrior’s eyes. He was too strong and powerful to be here, chained and brought low by his own blood, his own family.

“Why did you do this? Why did you walk into this?” But I didn’t need an answer. He’d sacrificed himself, walked into Nox’s arms in order to bring me here. For a small chance, an opportunity to free our world from darkness and frost, to free it from Nox and give us a fighting chance.

“I have always known my path, Deira. I did the right thing for my people, my land. And I don’t regret it . . . because in the process I found you.” A bright flare flashed in his amber eyes. “I’m sorry I withheld the truth. I was afraid to risk it, afraid to trust in you. Deira . . . I’ll hold you in here for eternity,” he moved his arm, his fist not quite reaching his heart. “You can bear the Light, seirnann.” He gave me a gentle smile. “I know you can. Innis Fail needs a new champion.”

I stayed mute, biting the inside of my cheek so I wouldn’t sob. Rigidly, I held back the tears, pressure building in my face. I had to show him I was strong, that I could do what he said. But inside desolation and grief was eating away at me.

I let my forehead rest against his and closed my eyes, the motion squeezing out several hot tears. “I will come back for you.”

“I know.” He kissed them from my cheeks. “Go, Deira.”

For a long time I committed his face to memory, not wanting to forget a single detail. As long as Drem lived, I’d know Balen did too. I’d come back for him. I’d never stop until he was free. I kissed him hard on the mouth and then stood on trembling legs.

Being the one to leave hurt far worse than those times when others had left me.

One foot in front of the other, head held high, I strode through the macabre field of illusion. Mist would have swallowed him up by now and I tried not to look back, to let the image of him alone, lost in the mist, cripple me.

Leaving Balen broke something inside me. I felt a hardening taking place, and I embraced it, closing myself off and pushing Balen deep into a small protected pocket of my soul. I had no idea where I went, but it didn’t matter. Nox’s hounds would find me and lead me back to the palace.

CHAPTER 22

The hounds fell in with me, leading me back into the hillside, through the caverns, out into the courtyard, then inside of the palace to my chamber.

They left me alone in the opulent room. My feet ached, and I shivered despite the warmth emanating from the hearth. Beyond the bed chamber, a wide archway led to a private bath with steps leading into a rectangular pool of hot water. Columns ringed the outer edges. Candles burned in tall stands. Beyond the bath was a wide covered balcony with couches, flowering plants and a small fountain.

The echo of laughter wafted across the expanse. I followed the sounds, going through the bathing chamber and onto the balcony. The courtyard spread out below me, larger than I’d first imagined. The ray of sunlight still pierced the gray sky and bathed the golden tree in light.

That was my goal. My chance at making everything right. Balen’s chance. Nox’s chance. We all wanted that light, all for deeper reasons and motivations than anyone knew.

Across the distance, I saw other balconies. Movement caught my eye. Several women lounged on couches on a large balcony. The distance, and the plants, columns, and sheer curtains shrouded them from a clear view.

I hadn’t expected anyone else to be there in the palace, but of course there would be. Nox must have servants, family, females, attendants... In fact, I remembered the tales of the women he kept, and the wealth he lavished upon those who pleased him. And the brutality he exacted on those who did not.

I went back inside to find two female servants dressed in plain white gowns standing by the pool. One held towels and the other held a basket of soaps, oils and cloths. They bowed when I entered, but did not meet my eyes or say a word.