Shadows of the Keeper (18 page)

“Her eyes.  Do you see her
eyes?” a Lumynari whispered.

“Hide yer’ swords,” Finnegan
warned.

Dezenial’s gaze narrowed. “They
were fostering you, and for that, they were slaughtered.  Drakar’s hunt
for you continues, even after three millennia.  We thought you safe amongst
the light-dwellers.”

“But who did you have me run
to?  I was no more than four, yet you sent me into a forest no small
child—“

“Do you not feel kindred amongst
the forest . . . amongst the shadows?”  Dezenial murmured.

You are in my mind.  Always
have been.  The forest, it always called to me.  And, the moon. 
The night is my solace
.

He nodded, letting her know he’d
heard her thoughts.  “I covered your memory, hoping to protect you from
horrors you witnessed that long ago day.”  His azure eyes mirrored inner
pain.  He could heal her, fulfill the longing in her heart, her
soul.  But for himself, there existed no freedom from desolate pain of
denying the feel of her flesh, binding of her soul to his.

Slowly she shook her head, privy to
his inner thoughts; suspecting he did not realize this.  She cast her gaze
downward. 
Soul
pain awakened.

“Milady, you
must
allow me
to tend to your wounds,” Colin pleaded, but Emily held up a shaky hand.

“I will ask but once, Dezenial, who
did I run to?”

A dark sentinel eyed Emily
curiously.  “She knows your name.”

“Yes,” Dezenial smiled.  “Her
memory returns.”  His eyes twinkled.  “And, her power.”  He
nudged his chin towards her.  “Your eyes glow molten amber.”  He
called attention to her eyes for Inzyr’s sake.  The Lumynari was actually
grinning.  “Typical arrogance,” Dezenial muttered in Balkorian.  “You
never disappoint, assassin.”

Aunsgar stepped in front of Emily,
as did his elite guards surrounding their queen.  “You have saved her, for
that you will be granted unchallenged passage through the gate and leave these
grounds.”  He switched from English to Elvish.  “Since you desire to
leave her in our custody, your time now grows short of my gratitude.”

“What happens to Peter?” 
Emily whispered.

As if on cue, Peter screamed from
behind his gag.

“Do you grant him pity?” 
Dezenial asked, majestically walking around the Elves in order to better see
her.

Emily watched as a Lumynari reached
down and tore the gag from Peter’s face.  Surrounding voices claimed her
eyes glowed.  Like Dezenial’s had?  Really?  She couldn’t help
being a bit pleased by the notion that, if her eyes glowed, it would terrify
the shit out of Peter. 

He’d shot Aedan.  Immediately,
her little bit of glee curdled into profound sorrow.  He’d shot
Aedan.  Beat her.  Kicked her.  Aedan was dead.  No more
O’Shay-antics.  She looked down at Peter, her upper lip curling.  “Do
what you will.  It matters not to me.”

Peter’s eyes bulged.  “You
whore!  Bitch!  I should have killed you the
first
time I
choked you!  Look at you—pathetic!”  He barked laughter.  “No
one but these animals will screw you—“

Dezenial’s fist shot into Peter’s
mouth and yanked forth his tongue.  Inzyr sliced it free.  Emily
turned from the gore and Peter’s guttural shrieks.  The vile man moaned,
writhed, blood and shattered teeth littering Maeve’s polished flagstones. 
Bile rose.  Dezenial clutched Peter’s throat, lifting him until his
twitching feet dangled high above the pool of blood.  Just as suddenly,
the powerful Lumynari half turned and with a force none but a few of his
brethren were privy to, threw his prisoner.  Peter soared across the vast
hall, his body crashing out the wide double doors still standing open.  To
Emily, it had looked as if Peter had been shot from a canon. 

“See that he lives.  If not,
restore him.  His torture begins this night.  I will not be
denied.”  A flick of his dark hand, the human’s foul blood vanished from
both his flesh, and the flagstone floor.  “He will wish for death. 
This is all I will share of what is in store for him, Keer’dra.  You will
be avenged for his assault.”  An odd look came over him.  “For his
cruelty to your heart.”  Dezenial then aimed a lethal smirk at
Aunsgar.  “Too often, humans assume themselves to be purveyors of fear;
therefore, schooling this Peter with the true meaning of evil will be most
satisfying.
None
touch what belongs to me, and remain unpunished.” 
Dark massive shoulder shrugged with cold indifference.  Chiseled raw
masculinity, from his high cheekbones, strong jaw, down to hands she was
certain could kill with little effort . . . or caress with blissful heat. 
Mental shake.  No good.  Didn’t work.  White glowing hair
cascaded to narrow waist, very tight black leggings clung to his thighs like
second skin.  One temple boasted several thin braids cascading down to his
chest she had yet to peel her eyes from.  Tiny bones dangled from the ends
of each braid. 
Morbid souvenirs?  No matter.  He’s the most
exotic male I’ve ever seen.  Much, much, much better than her dream of him
. . . and his mouth.  Why do I feel such an urge to run to him, cling
forever, never, ever letting go
—

His gaze snapped to hers, his smile
erotic.

Take me from here
.

Ever so slight, he shook his head.

Pain constricted her heart. 
Raw, primitive grief overwhelmed her.  With his silent denial, it was as
if air no longer filled her lungs.  Light no longer existed. 
Darkness consumed.  Peripherals faded.  As did the murmur of
voices. 

He frowned.

Her mind became languid. 
There existed nothing for her. 

Azure eyes looked on with
concern.  He took a step closer.

She dropped her lashes quickly to
hide the hurt.  “Broc?” 
To hell with you.  Another male;
another betrayal.  Go screw yourself
. 

“Aye, love?”  His gaze bore
into the Lumynari, daring the Shadow Master to react to his words.  The
laird was rewarded with Dezenial’s scowl.

“Help me.  The pain.  All
this blood.  I’m covered in it.  Medicine, maybe a warm bath?”

“Aye, milady.  Garreck? 
Carry the princess to her chambers.  Colin, follow and see to her needs. 
I’ve a door ta’ see our guests exiting—“

Piercing shrills erupted from
outside.

“Danu!  ‘Tis the Lady
Falcon.  Canna’ be good.”  Warriors gave a wide berth as the falcon
flew in, her talons clutching a very limp and bleeding O’Shay.  Dropped
gently upon the floor, the bird landed a foot or two away and proceeded to
twist a sort of macabre dance of hopping, wings outstretched.  Feathers
contorted.  Reignsfeugh snatched one of the numerous plaids from the
drying hooks, and threw it across the bird as the wee beast fell upon its back.

From under the plaid, a shape grew
and grew until Maeve inhaled deeply, then reached up to grapple Reignsfeugh’s
forearm, seeking his strength.  “Mi’ Aedan.  He won’t survive the
night.  I wanted him ta’ breathe his last here . . . family.”  Sobs
stole her voice.  She tucked the plaid around her, and accepted the Celt’s
assistance to stand. 

Collectively, their audience of
Lumynari retreated several paces away from the Fey priestess.  Warily,
they kept close watch.

“Laddie, wake up.  Yer’
home.  Make the change.  I carried ye’ home as promised.  Let me
look into yer’ eyes, Aedan.”  Maeve tenderly stroked the cat.  Soft
mewling and the cat’s hindquarters kicked several times.  Fur rippled. 
Mewling grew louder.  “I need a plaid.  ‘Tis cold against the floor
for the lad.”

Several were suddenly provided.

“Put me down, Garreck,”  Emily
commanded.  The need to get to Aedan was overpowering.

“Milady, you need to be seen
to.  Your head, it bleeds again.  There’s nothing any o’ us can do
for Aedan.  Right now, ye’ look worse than the first time I found
ye’.  We canna’ lose you too.”

She turned a fierce gaze up at
him.  She felt him sway and nearly lose his hold on her. 
“Put-me-down,” she enunciated, her eyes burning orbs.  Complying, he stepped
back, grappling hilt of his ancient sword.  Lady Emily’s hair erupted into
white flames.  Her eyes were now amber beacons in the near dark
hall. 

Garreck freed his weapon. 
Only a Lumynari priestess possessed power of flame-hair.

None noticed the assassin, Inzyr,
proudly smiling—save for Dezenial.  Almost, the Shadow Master rolled his
eyes over the assassin’s reaction.

Emily stumbled towards Aedan. 
Broc reared, he too grappling hilt of his sword.  Aunsgar stopped
him.  Aedan was covered with a plaid, its center already blood
soaked.  She pulled back the plaid—her hand was grasped, immobilizing her.

“ ‘Tis no’ something ye’ want to
see,” Maeve warned, seemingly indifferent to the change in Emily.  “He is
dy—milord!  Her hands!”  Maeve yelled out.  “They
burn
!” 

“Speak the words, Emily.  Feel
the heat flow through you.  Pass it along into his wound,” Dezenial softly
commanded, not wanting to frighten her of her own power.  “Do not fear
your power.  It remembers you, though you know not of it.  Hurry,
Keer’dra, or he’ll pass.”

Broc looked to Aunsgar, fury on the
brink of exploding. 
How dare the Lumynari bastard verbally caress
her!  Promises be damned!
  But the Elven prince gave a slight
nod, yielding to the Shadow Master.  In that moment, Broc desired nothing
more than to rip Aunsgar’s royal throat into morsels of wolf-feed.

Emily’s hands seared.  She
shook them to ease the fire coursing from wrist to fingertips.  Words
filled her head, swirling until compelled to speak them aloud.

“Place your hand upon his wound,”
Aunsgar ordered.

Emily shook her head, tucking her
hands deep under her arms.  Dezenial glided closer.  “The burning
will cease when placed upon his wound.”  He caressed her slim shoulders,
offering strength.  “The more you fight it, the more you’ll burn. 
And he will die, Emily.  You are his only hope.”

As if Aedan’s innards were ice-cold
water, Emily plunged her hands upon the area that had once been a taught
abdomen.  Glowing engulfed his wound, spreading across his ribs to
encompass his entire torso.  Words in her head expelled from her mouth
before she realized she spoke.  Louder and louder, she chanted, a chorus
of male voices joining her din.  An ancient ritual from a world far from
any they’d conceived, the chant strengthened, power flowing through her, and
into Aedan. 

Forest Lords gaped.

Lumynari sank to their knees, heads
bowed.  Several Elves did likewise.

Dezenial supported her petite
frame.  Inzyr observed, spellbound.

Male chorusing crawled down from
balconies, swirling and dissipating. 

Everything stopped.  

For long moments, silence sounded
louder than the chanting had.  Emily slumped.  Dezenial caught her
and scooped her up into his powerful arms.

“Keer’dra,” he whispered against
her brow.  She was too weak to even raise her eyelids.  With much
regret, he turned to Garreck, the Forest Lord quickly accepting her into his
outstretched arms.  Almost, Dezenial changed his mind, but never must he
allow her into his world.  Her death, a fourth time, would be his end.
 “Wipe the scowl from your face, human, I do not enjoy returning her to
you.”  He turned to Aunsgar.  “I cannot take her into my world. 
Tides turn.  Treachery abounds, more than ever in either of our
pasts.  We take our leave.  Unthreatened passage?” He grinned most
wickedly, obviously mocking Aunsgar’s earlier offer.  No greater joy would
come than a small skirmish allowing him to bleed a few Forest Lords.

“Safe passage.”  Aunsgar
couldn’t hide his own smirk, hand tightening on his hilt. 

Dezenial chuckled.  Several men
shuddered from the chill of it.  “Don’t worry, mountain Elf, your precious
Outlanders won’t lose ability to fill their lungs with air this eve.  You
do, however, have guards eager to kill from your watch towers.”

“They will not be foolish enough to
start a war.”

“Halt!”  Broc commanded.

Slowly, Dezenial turned.  “I
grow weary of your assumptions that you deal with a simpleton.”

“How is it you are here, in my
mountains?”

“
Your
mountains?  I
have always been here.”  He looked to where Garreck ascended the stairs
with Emily, then back to the Outlander.  “Wherever Emily is, I am not
far.”

“Impossible for you to be
here.”  Broc closed the distance between them.  “We are cursed, but
not even Lumynari live
this
long.”

White brow arched.  “As son of
both the goddess Shadow and the god of Underworld, Hades, I will outlive even
your pathetic immortality, human.”  Dezenial was amused by the Elves
losing their ability to hide their shock.  Never had they really
understood who and what he was.  “Be grateful I am who I am, otherwise
Emily would have been slaughtered in her fourth winter of this life;
furthermore,
human
, should you ever again kiss her, I will peel your
face down to your knees.  Doubt me?  You were sworn to guardianship. 
Fulfill your duty.”  He gazed lovingly across the expanse separating him
from Emily.  “As if she was ever yours at all.”  His longing, no
matter the mere seconds on his face, did not go unnoticed. 

Wave after wave of shock slapped
against Aunsgar.  Dezenial a
god
?  Why had Pendaran kept this
from him?  Why had the Elders denied her from Dezenial if such a claim
were true?  He would need to ponder and reflect upon this strange
night.  He knew Urkani felt it as well, his commander openly displaying an
expression of confusion. 

Broc took a step closer.  “Who
did Emily run to when you
saved
her that long ago day?”

Dezenial’s lip curled.  “I
will not mention him by name.”

Aunsgar stiffened.

Broc looked from the Elf, back to
the Shadow Master.  “I will no’ ask again.”