The Marked Son (Keepers of Life) (30 page)

The Price of Love

War, even the tiny clash we were in, isn’t a pretty sight. Men and women clean up the mess of bodies littering the ground. The “kinds” are separated. The
firsts
laid out respectfully, the “tainted” tossed in a pile. I stop counting the
firsts
pile at twenty-eight. Pop did some major damage. No wonder Navar singled him out. I glance around for his ghost. For all I know, he’s done what Leo’s advised me to do, and walked into the light.

I don’t see a beckoning light. Is that a bad sign?

I move through the forest, seeing everything through a misty lens, like a gray cloud separates me from everything else. I hadn’t noticed it before, because the forest in my world is dense and dark. Here, the light penetrates, as if the leaves are only a veil and the branches more tissue that solid wood.

As a spirit, I’m not sure what I can do, or if the same rules apply here as they do in my world. I’m hoping they don’t. Faldon’s surprise at my continued existence makes me think they do, though. I’m glad I was able to surprise him with a few tricks.

Whatever the result, there’s no denying I’m being drawn to Kera. While alive, I craved the comfort she offered, the feeling of belonging. Now, I suspect my need is more honorable. The obsessive yearnings I constantly fought when I was alive have been replaced with an altruistic desire—I need to make sure she’s all right.

What if she isn’t? I refuse to think of that possibility. Her father would never harm her, but Navar? I can’t stop the doubts. Just like Bodog has warned me, Navar’s heart is encased in cold, hard granite. He’s the epitome of a
first
—self-serving, and obsessed with attaining his own desires.

Just like I’d been.

I enter a familiar clearing and see a lump lying under the drooping boughs of an old oak tree. Bodog. He’s bleeding. I draw near, seeing he almost made it to the tunnel before he fell. His eyelids crack open and a tear slides down his cheek. “All for naught? Was it all for naught?”

“What can I do?” I say aloud.

Bodog taps my knee. “Stop Navar. Take his power.”

At my shocked look, Bodog smiles. “Surprised Bodog can see you? Touch you? You move in a different space. To Bodog, you are as alive as you ever were. Bodog’s kind sees everything, good and bad.” A hiss of pain rattles through his teeth. “Bodog failed you. Tried hard not to. Still did.”

I can’t look at him. “I failed
you
, Bodog. Faldon’s dead. I killed him.”

“His heart broke long before his body.” He lifts himself on an elbow. “Bodog wants to go home now.”

I call on the powers hiding deep within the earth and open the tunnel, widening it. Bodog smiles and scoots toward it. “How long will my powers last?” I ask, thinking about what Faldon had implied, that I would weaken until I was nothing more than a misty memory.

In true form, Bodog says, “Need is a power all its own. Take Navar’s powers. Only then can Teag find peace.” With that, he slithers into his tunnel and out of sight, but not before demanding that I return the tunnel entrance to its original size.

I’m supposed to destroy Navar? “But I’m dead,” I say to the empty forest.

My death doesn’t seem to affect Bodog’s faith in me. I can’t let it destroy my own. To save Kera, I’ll do whatever it takes. I’ll go to hell and pound on the devil himself if I need to.

I follow my instincts, and like a homing pigeon, I find myself staring up at the manor. Its main doors are thrown wide in a welcome that is in contrast to my prior treatment. The place is swarming with people.

I enter the main hall. Worry is etched into every face. Concern hums through every voice. Kera is loved. Her people adore her. I’m not surprised. I move to the back stairs and climb. The burden of movement no longer hampers me. I float, even though I move my legs like I still need them. I wonder if time will cure me of the habit.

I move along an upper hall and stop at a thick, oak door, delicately carved with an image of a unicorn and a girl. My body slips past the heavy barrier. The ability to walk through walls is shocking, but definitely convenient. Once inside, I find Kera being attended by a woman as Kera’s father stands nearby.

“She’ll be fine?” he demands. “No problems healing?”

“Once the cure takes effect, and if she limits her movements until her muscle can repair itself.”

Kera’s father begins to pace. “Where’s Faldon? He should be here by now. He could heal her in no time.”

I’m drawn to Kera’s side, to the heat of her life and the ache of her soul. “I’m here,” I whisper, studying her face, wishing I could hold her. Comfort her. “I’ll never leave you.”

For a moment, her face softens and her eyes grow misty. Does she know I’m here? Can she feel my presence?

“I’m fine,” Kera says, though I can see she isn’t. Her skin is too pale, blending with the white undergarment she wears, and her violet eyes no longer sparkle. “I’m tired.”

Without even a cursory knock, the door opens, and Navar strides in, followed by Granel. The lieutenant darts ahead of Navar and waves toward Kera. “See, my lord. What did I tell you? She’s fine. The ceremony can resume this evening.”

Kera’s father blinks, his cheeks redden with his tightly controlled anger. “She’s wounded!”

“The pain doesn’t seem to affect her overly much,” Navar says.

If only I could manifest in some way, I’d gladly kill him, but I need to be smart about this. I’m pretty sure I’ve only got one more chance to make him pay for all he’s done.

Kera’s father steps in front of her, blocking Navar’s view. “An arrow has pierced her shoulder. Your
poison
-laced arrow.”

Navar takes a threatening step forward, his voice a rumble of violence. “Do not test me further, Hadrain. We all make sacrifices. A little discomfort isn’t much compared to the sacrifice Faldon made. I expect her to cleanse herself and rise a woman worthy to marry the future king.”

“You go too far.”

“And I tire of your interference.”

The two glare at each other like pitbulls before a fight.

Kera slowly rises, her legs unsteady beneath her. Her father turns and murmurs for her to stay in bed, but she shakes her head and clutches his arm. She faces Navar, her breathing deep, tattered. A flicker of defiance hides behind her deference. “I swear, I’ll do as you wish.”

I stare at her in disbelief. “No, Kera.”

Within her eyes, a twinge of sorrow uncurls before she can hide it, and I begin to wonder. “Kera. Can you hear me?”

She doesn’t respond, only stares at Navar. He takes her fingers and kisses the back of her hand, gazing at her with greedy eyes. “Clearly, you see what your father’s forgotten. This is a great alliance, one that must be formed quickly, if the throne is to be mine. Ours.”

He releases her hand, his smile triumphant. When he turns to the woman standing with a wad of bandages and tells her to see to the preparations, Kera slyly wipes the residue of his kiss on her skirts.

I lean close. If I were alive. I would smell the scent of summer that lingers on Kera’s skin. My lips move against her ear. “What game are you playing?”

She turns her head away, her hair cascading over her ear and across her suddenly flushed cheek. I have my answer, though not directly. She can hear me.

Navar considers Hadrain. “She has until nightfall to regain her strength.” He flicks his wrist at a nearby basket. “Granel brought you the sage’s medicine basket. Surely you can scrounge up something to ease her pain. We needn’t wait for Faldon’s return to see her comfortable.”

If they did, they’d be waiting an eternity.

Hadrain helps her back in bed, and Navar eyes her possessively. “Rest. Tonight we begin anew.”

“A new
nightmare
,” I say, watching Kera’s father bow and the woman curtsey. When Navar and Granel leave, the three breathe a sigh of relief.

“Is there anything for her pain?” Hadrain asks.

The woman rummages through the basket. “I’m not as familiar as Faldon with the art of potions, but this,” she pulls out a brown bottle, “I’ve seen him give this, a strong painkiller. Mixed in water, it works in minutes.”

Her father puts a few droplets in a glass of water.

“I’m fine,” Kera says, but she doesn’t fight when he lifts her head for her to drink. She makes a face. “Bitter.”

The woman presses the bottle into Hadrain’s hands. “She’ll need more in a few hours.”

Kera’s father places the bottle on the bedside table and walks the woman to the door. I bend and read the hand-written label. Opium. It’s nothing like taking a few Advil. People go crazy on the stuff.

When her dad comes back, Kera catches his hand, her eyes big and imploring. “What sacrifice has Faldon made?”

“That was long ago.”

“I need something to take my mind away from the pain.”

He sits on the bed and adjusts her hand in his. “Faldon had a son. He was bright and ambitious, and a good friend of mine. His name was Baun. You know him as the Lost King.”

“But he’s evil, isn’t he?”

A sad smile crosses her father’s face. “Sometimes I wonder. Greif can destroy honorable intensions. I believe forgiveness can heal all wounds. He was never afforded that mercy.”

“Do you know where he is?”

“I’m one of the few who do. I was his guard. I went with him everywhere. Over time, he became obsessed with power. Obsessed with knowing everything about the world. We were young. And we crossed a line. We entered the human realm.

“At that time, only a few were allowed the privilege. Being king, he thought it ridiculous that he’d never seen what others had. We traveled throughout the human realm, performing miracles, or so the humans believed. We had fun…and then I fell in love with your mother. She became pregnant.” He smiles at her lovingly.

“Unfortunately, Baun was not amused. He didn’t like my devotion wandering. I had become more of a possession than an equal. He insisted we go home, and that I leave your mother behind.

“I was, and ever am, a servant to the throne. But on the day we were to go back to our land, Baun met a girl. She was wild and beautiful, and he fell in love.”

“Why are we such foolish creatures when it comes to love?” Kera asks.

Her father shrugs. “Foolish, but lucky. There is no doubt. No regret.”

“No,” she whispers. “No regret.”

“Baun sent me back, refusing to leave his new love. I was angry. Then I did a thing I never would’ve thought possible. Before I returned to Teag, I found you and your mother and brought you with me. Faldon’s wife took you both in.

“Life was good, but our king’s continued absence caused frictions to rise. Within months, humans became our enemy. A terrible war threatened to break out. Faldon’s wife died protecting you and your mother. During that time, I was dispatched to bring Baun back. It was hoped he would calm the rising storm.”

“He didn’t want to leave,” Kera says.

“No, he didn’t, but he did. He wasn’t a complete fool. He loved his people, had taken an oath to protect them, and that oath called him back. His strong leadership calmed tempers. The threat of war abated.”

“But I know there was a war.”

“Yes. When tempers cooled, he went back to bring his love home, but she was gone. His heart broke. His spirit shattered, and he turned bitter. Insane, even. After that, nothing would please him. It was he who called for the extermination of all humans in Teag. That was when your mother died, and I pretended to find you in a nearby village. Many fought the order. Most didn’t. So crazed had Baun become that he entered the human realm and went on a rampage. It was clear to everyone he was out of control. Our king was no longer able to rule. Faldon and I were sent to find him.” His eyes grew dark. “To kill him, if he couldn’t be reasoned with.”

Her father grew quiet. “It was a fate no father should endure, but Faldon agreed. The things Baun had done, the pain he’d caused, made his life forfeit. We both understood that, but in the end, neither Faldon nor I could do it. We ended up offering Baun to the
pux
, but only if they kept him chained. And that’s where he is to this day.”

“Faldon knew Dylan was Baun’s son.”