Darach (8 page)

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
.
"
H
e 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
. H
e 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.

"
E
nfys
yn disgyn
,
"
Ceithin
said
simply, a smile on his face, his eyes l
it
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."

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.

Darach needed to get home, away from the Valley, or over to the Otherworld and Kian. On more than one occasion during supper, he made the effort to form the sentence in his head. Nothing happened. In spite of his feelings to the contrary, if he returned home, how would he learn more of Kian? What would happen to him back in the City? Would the Council exact punishment for his disobedience by removing his Fire? Was he doomed to remain here with these criminals in this village? And why did they not look more like the illustrations from the books he had read as a child? Rough and raw and ready to kill they were not.

In fact, they were clean, tidy, friendly, and smiling. Not one of them had leered at him, propositioned him, threatened him, or indeed done anything to suggest he was not a simple guest here. He listened and learned as much as he could from what he heard. They appeared to be a community of farmers, living from the land in this beautiful valley. Peaceful and calm, they used nature to its fullness, and the valley itself was warded against intruders. There were groups of Cariad spread out in this world, all communities living in apparent peace, and what he noticed most was that not one person who spoke used words of fear or intimidation. Years of hearing the worst and then being presented with reality made Darach uneasy. He had compartmentalized the Cariad into the same box as the devils in the night and the ghosts from old criminals, and it was hard to let the instinct to fear go.

They discussed why Darach had been looking for Ceithin. He was relying on Cariad assistance to pass over to the Otherworld. They looked at each other, looked at him, and told him they would show him the way to cross, but there was tension for a short while, Ceithin stubbornly refusing to admit why he had been in the City in the first place. The evening had closed in, a bright late autumn moon the only light they used in the corridors that spread from the main cabin, a rabbit warren of small rooms and halls. Quaint, rambling, old, and solid, it was unlike anything he had lived in before.

Brigid led him to a small side room with a comfortable pallet, and he really did try to sleep, despite the contradictions and thoughts in his head. His Fire was restless, uncertain, flickering behind his eyes, nagging at him, tracing impatient lines of blue along his bare skin. With a huff of exasperation, he sat up and rubbed the sparks away. Maybe getting some air would help? He pulled on his pants and a jacket over his sleep shirt to go and find somewhere he wouldn't feel so damn unsettled. Opening the door gently, he walked down the main corridor. The cabin was in peace, darkness, and he let himself out of the front door. There was no purpose or destination to the course he took, and he wandered aimlessly until the clouds covering the large full moon shifted to let moonbeams light the edge of the river and the beginning of the slopes of the valley. That something as beautiful as this place existed so close to the City and he had never even known of its existence was a shock.

Voices carried on the air, and the words reached him long before he consciously realized he was listening. Ceithin was there, and Darach caught the end of a sentence, shouted words, and the other voice he identified as Ceithin's father.

"…you think he would want you to die for him?" Llewellyn sounded so damn sad.

"Don't say that, you don't know—"