Shadows of the Keeper (55 page)

Broc’s sappy grinning turned
grim.  “Yer’ sure?”

A weak nod before she slid down,
Vaide arranging pillows and pulling a blanket up.  She was sound asleep,
too deeply exhausted to be aware of the men shooed so Cianna and Maeve could
apply ministrations to begin healing her body.  Nor was she coherent of
Vaide standing at her shoulder, should the enchantress, Cianna, command he
supply his queen with blood if Emily’s began to ebb.

Broc watched her for a time. 
The guard, he knew, would never be far from her side.  She’d be safe with
this one.  None were taking chances.  They’d been careless protecting
Aurelia.  Emily, however, was acquiring her own little garrison.  He
lifted his foster son. 
Son
.  His to raise.  To teach
everything he knew so the boy would grow into a man.  He nestled the tiny
body closer to his heart.  It felt good.  Powerful. 
Awe-inspiring.  His hands were the size of the infant’s entire body. 
He knew, without looking, Inzyr scrutinized, weighing if he were worthy. 
He supposed, if he weren’t, he’d have long been dead by now, the assassin
fiercely protective of his daughter.

“You have good insight,
Outlander.”  Inzyr clapped the Forest Lord on the shoulder.  “We are
bonded now.”  The assassin shrugged.  “Now, I’ll have to make sure
it’s truly a worthy reason before I kill you.”

Broc narrowed his gaze.  “You
may refer to me as your liege—“

Both males laughed.

And both were vastly aware of the
strange turn of events uniting ancient enemies.

“Well, laddie,” Reignsfeugh said
from the door, Aunsgar pushing past him to see the new arrivals, “what did she
whisper to ye’?  What is it she said she needs?”

Broc grimaced.

“You look to be facing death,”
Aunsgar noted.  Urkani stepped around the laird.  Both nodded to
Emily’s sire before taking a closer look at the newest members to join the
motely inhabitants of Castle MacLarrin.

Maeve confiscated Denzyr and passed
Broc a small tumbler of scotch.  “Might as well tell them.”  She pat
his arm and moved to a newly fashioned cradle, whittled by Aunsgar. 

“Ye’ ken?”

“Aye.”

“Yer’ hearing frightens me, auld
woman.”

“As it should.”

Broc downed his scotch.

Reignsfeugh cursed, knowing it must
be bad.  He eyed Erchyll, who had just picked himself off the floor,
daring the priest to lecture him about blasphemy.  Broc’s next words
rendered them speechless . . . save for a bandy-legged priest who shouted
gleefully, clamped a hand over his mouth and looked at the still sleeping
twins, then rushed from the chamber towards his church.

Inzyr cursed in Balkorian.

Vaide chuckled.

The twins were to be
baptized.  Erchyll’s Holy water would finally have a use.  God help
them all, they’d never hear the end of the priest’s bragging.

Had it been a painting, it would
have been labeled exaggerated.  Surreal.  Pooh-poohed as
fantasy.  Too beautiful to exist as genuine topography.  A freakish
late season storm last night, Old Man Winter howling his rage before taking his
leave of these lands.  She snapped the shutter again, hoping the camera lens
would capture what her eyes beheld.

It mirrored her soul.

Icy terrain.  Frozen trees looking
as if their limbs were made of glass.  White contrasted sharply against a
sky so cold blue, it looked bruised; the azure of Dezenial’s eyes.

Was he looking down at her? 

Nothing stirred.  Even Sister
Wind huddled somewhere, her brother, Winter, obviously winning their
forever-battle. 

Wish you were here to see this,
Dez
. 

Thick mist halted, barricaded by an
invisible wall of ice cold.  Swirling, thickening, trying in vain to
stretch across the iced land, it could travel no further than the outcropping
of trees.  As a last effort, it soared, searching for away over an unseen
barrier. Faint shadows of smile played with her bluing lips.  Maybe it was
the ghost of Dezenial trying valiantly to return to her.

“You need to feed.”

She flinched, still not used to
Vaide’s sudden appearances, nor his insight.  “No.”

“My Lord Dezenial’s children wean
your strength.”

Her gaze swiveled to Vaide’s, his
yellow eyes reminding her of a tiger’s, pupils diamond in shape.  She
nodded, and leaned against him when he drew near.  “Why am I so
comfortable with you?  Why do I fight it?”

He wrapped his arms around her, his
body heat warming her.  “We were . . . companions, when Hades guarded you,
until Zeus cast you out into the mortal’s realm.”

She looked up at him from the crook
of his arm.  “Lovers?”

His answer wasn’t immediate. 
“Yes,” he finally said.

“There was a pause there, Vaide.”

“Lord Dezenial knows of our
relationship.  It is why he chose me to be with you, should anything ever
befall him.  I never thought it would come to pass.”

“I didn’t either.”

He kissed the top of her head, both
content to hold each other, ancient friends, and seek comfort in shared
heartache.  Skies darkened, the sun finally saying goodnight.

“Come, I will ease your
thirst.  Do you wish to dominate again?”

Gently, she smacked his arm. 
“You should at least pretend you need a shirt in this cold.  No, I’m still
not used to the idea of having sex with you.”  She held up her finger,
pointing at him.  “One word about how it didn’t seem to be a problem the
other night, and I’ll . . . well, I don’t know what I’ll do—stop grinning.”

Gently, he confiscated her icy hand
and placed it on his neck, pulsating artery pushing against her fingers. 
Her gums itched, teeth stretching the delicate skin.  “Just a little.”

His throaty chuckle was the last
she heard, Vaide having sunk to his knees so she could better reach his
neck.  Her ears roared with the sound of his blood coursing through his
magnificent body.  His hands trailed down her arms, delicately placing her
fingers in his hair.  The Daemon knew this act would
awaken
her.  The rest was a blur, as she yanked his head back; too long without
the hot liquid his body nourished hers with.  She drank deeply until her
jaws ached.  Lapping droplets of blood, she disentangled her fingers from
his hair and dabbed at her mouth as he stood.  “My father still rages that
Dezenial and he spoke many times in regards to you and I being together. 
I just can’t go to the next level with you, Vaide.  I’m not ready.  I
feel like, you drinking from me . . .” she shook her head, and turned away.

Vaide held her from behind, every
so often sweeping Emily’s hair back, Sister Wind determined to swish some of
the wayward strands.  “In the mortal’s realm, you are taught a different
way than Lumynari and Daemon.  You are my queen.  My loyalty is to
you and Prince Dezenial.  It is not to make you unhappy, or
uncomfortable.  My duty is to you, regardless of how you see fit for that
use.”

Quickly she turned, and buried
herself against him.  He held her tightly, comforting her as she sobbed
for her beloved.  Cupping the back of her head, holding her close, he gave
her long moments to dry her eyes.  “Though the guardian banded around your
arm warms you, it grows too cold for you to be up here much longer.”  He
cupped her chin, softly tilting her head.  He kissed her brow.  “A
few moments more, Lady Emily, and then you must seek shelter and true warmth.”

She nodded and he stepped away,
once again merging with shadows.

Emily moved closer to the low wall,
caressed her abdomen and looked out over the upper bailey.  Her stomach
was flat again.  She grinned at her vanity.  Her body had become
strong again thanks to a mercilessly untiring Urkani.  A truce had settled
between she and the Elf commander.  Daily, they sought each other, each
seeming to achieve a certain solace only found in the other.  He kept her
so physically active during her training, she slept free of dreams.  She
had voiced that she was indebted to him forever for the small window of peace
he’d provided her with, enabling her to sleep again.  He had smiled, but
said nothing.

“I’ve never seen you smile. 
You should do it more often.”

“It is the first time, in a long
time, that I have felt the need to.”

“Do you see me as Aurelia . . . as
your lost betrothed?”

Surprisingly, he nodded.  She
cherished his honesty.   “I chose a path I was duty bound to
follow.  It doesn’t mean I liked it,” he’d said before turning away. 

“Urkani?”

He halted his horse and allowed her
to catch up.  Pain marred his otherwise ethereal face.  “Tell me.”

“I’ve spent thirty-six hundred
years wondering if my choice was selfish.  If I’d not given fealty to
Aunsgar, if I’d married you as destined . . . would you have still been
exiled?  Would you have still been murdered by the Lumynari—maybe at the
keep, or along the shore?  Just because you would not have fallen under
guardianship of the Forest Lords, would Ardra have still murdered you?”

“Would destiny have still brought
about my demise, regardless where I called home.”

He nodded.

She expelled air.  “Seems like
we have many paths, though at the time, we don’t know it.  And we
certainly don’t know where they’ll lead.  Maybe Aurelia would have
survived,” she looked straight at him.  “And you would have
perished.  Defending her?  Defending your children—“

He flinched.

Absolute realization washed over
her.  Amber eyes pricked, tears, sudden knowing.

“You never had children. 
Because of your decision.  And then, Pendaran’s curse.”  His eyes
were the only admission he dared.  “And now, I have children.”

“Who are endearing, very
cherished—“

“But still fill you with pain of
what could have been; what will never be.”

“I am sorry for it.”

She shook her head.  “Don’t
be.  I know your pain, Urkani.”  She looked above, dark clouds
promising another storm.  “Trust me, I know your sense of loss.”

He took her hand, their horses
moving closer.  “I will find a new path, and on it, will be the one I’m
intended to be with.  Now that you’ve returned, so too will our destinies,
for all of us.”

They embraced, pulled apart, and
allowed their horses to canter back to the stables.

Memories faded to incoherent
echoes.  Urkani had trusted her with innermost revelations about himself,
something Elves never partook in.  She treasured what they now had. 
Gently, she placed her camera on the small table, having taken one last shot,
and returned her grasp upon the cold stone wall.  “Kendara squeals
continuously, watching Aedan shift back and forth from man into cat.” 
Emily looked down, hint of a smile.  “Your men tease he will do this too
often, ending up a man with feline whiskers and tail.”

“How long ‘ave ye’ known I was
here?” Broc asked, coming closer.

“Since you arrived.  Aunsgar
has departed?”

“He prepares, but says it may be
one or two more days.  He’s no longer able to ignore his visions regarding
the woman called Kit.  Strange name.”

“I worry for his safety in the
mountains of California.  People of my realm are very . . . what are you
hiding from me?”

“Your father will accompany him.”

Emily inhaled so sharply, not only
did Broc rush closer, but also, Vaide manifested from shadow.

“No, no, I’m fine. 
Sorry.” 
I will be alone
. 

No, my queen, you will not
.

She looked at Vaide
quizzically. 
How long have you been in my mind?

Only when we are this close, and
only when you are truly distressed.  Remember, I was sent to keep you safe
and comfortable, mind, body and soul, when needed
.

She nodded, dropped her gaze and
blushed a bit.  Broc looked between the two of them.  Vaide nodded to
the laird, and returned to his stance within shadows.

Longingly, Emily looked towards the
strange mist swirling again, this time higher than before.  It called to
her, pulling her, pleading she vacate the castle, allowing the white billowy
mass to encompass her.

As Dezenial once had.

His exhale had been her
inhale.  Would her heart never cease this anguished cinching?  The
twins were her singular light.  His legacy.  Warmth thawed her for a
moment.  Each mirrored him in their own way.  Kendara with high
cheekbones, his chiseled mouth, but with amber eyes and Inzyr’s temper. 
Denzyr had a peculiar calmness, indifferent to Kendara’s screams . . . his eyes
azure blue that near broke her heart.  The twins babbled in a strange
language, and actually seemed to understand each other.  Her father spoke
with them as well, stating they spoke the language of the gods. 
Perfect. 
Thank you, Hades
.  The twins would one day plot, and
she’d never be the wiser, because she didn’t speak whatever they spoke on Mt.
Olympus.  Her twins were very bonded.  And though they had dozens of
uncles, their own personal assassin, a dog-beast who surprisingly relished
tail-tuggings, explaining it was the reason for owning two of them, and their
clamoring all over him as if were a giant couch . . . never did they tolerate
too long, their mother being far.  Even if held from the terrace, as long
as they could see her below while she practiced sword fighting, archery or
wrestling, they were content.

Oddly, they always knew when her
heart was heaviest.  Kendara would screech until brought to her, Denzyr
not far with the same demand.  That strange language between them and,
suddenly, they would stare at her.  She’d take them both, fitting them
onto her lap where they’d latch onto her hair, and pat her back. 
Unsettling.  Tender.  It never failed to warm her.

Emily breathed deeply, and held in
the crisp air as long as she could.

“Colin and Reignsfeugh prepare to
play the cello and pipes.  They sent me ta’ invite you.”

“Perhaps, in a while.”

“Emily?”

Turning her head slightly, she
peripherally offered her attention.

“Lass, he’s gone.  I ken yer’
pain.  I suffered, long ago, the same loss.  Ye’ve got ta’ begin the
journey back.”  His voice dropped, barely above a whisper.  “Ye’ve
got to, Emily.”

“Every time I laugh, it’s a
betrayal to him.”  She looked out to the mists again.  “Every day I
think of him, but no matter how much . . .” she knuckle-dashed her tears and
turned to face the laird.  “His image fades.  Where clarity resided,
now mere glimpses are all that remain.  Sometimes, a rare smile, or
laughter he never allowed any to hear from him,” she pointed to her head, “I
can hear it, as if he’s just down the way.  Twice,” she held up two
fingers, “I actually took off down those stairs, nearly broke my neck, just
sure it really was him I heard.  Wind.  Nothing more than a trick of
wind.”  More tears needed to be wiped away.  “His hair, or an
expression . . . but no longer, do I see him in his entirety.  No
paintings.  No photos.  Nothing left behind enabling me to refresh my
mind’s eye, that I can say, ‘don’t even think about forgetting’.  Why does
my memory betray me like this?  So, when I’m up here, if I’m very, very
still, for a time, I can hear his voice upon the wind.  Sometimes, Broc,
sometimes, I can even laugh again over something he said meant only for me.”

Vaide moved to her, strength
without touching he offered her.  Black hair swaying against powerful
shoulders forever void of tunic.  How much longer before she entwined
herself to him?  Her father had warned, not much longer would he abide her
grieving.  He understood the reasons, but demanded, for the sake of the
twins, she take Vaide and begin anew, as much as she was able in the wake of
her profound loss.  Emily knew too, her father did not want to suffer loss
such as he had when her own mother had passed.  What right did she have to
put him through that again?  No, she knew she would give in to her
father’s reasoning and accept Vaide.  The Daemon was protective, loving
and soft spoken, unless they were sharing their bodies.  He fully
understood that she was Lumynari.  But never did he try to override her
memories or her love for Dezenial.  For that, she loved him already.
Maybe, one day, she could offer him more than just the shell she currently was.

“Fading memories force ye’ ta’
heal,” Broc said.

“Then why doesn’t it start with the
pain of heartache instead of erasing his image?”

Broc lacked answers as she turned
from him, her shoulders trembling.  He’d accepted, many months ago, Emily
would never be his.  He’d grieved in private, keeping to himself for many
weeks.  Until his men’s panic brought his attention to the fact that she
was waif thin.  Silence her constant companion, her eyes always watching,
observing life, but never truly participating.  He’d gone to
Aunsgar.  And demanded Vaide step from shadows.  Both Daemon and Elf had
agreed with Broc, the twins, nothing else, kept her from slipping so deeply
within, none would find her.  Broc had railed at Vaide to take her, Inzyr
having explained what would happen to Emily if she did not accept the Daemon as
her new mate.  Vaide had told a tale, holding Broc to secrecy—as if he
would dare break an oath given to a Daemon.  Emily would have to make the
choice, whether or not to allow Vaide to claim her, similar to Dezenial’s
claim, though not as soul deep.  Theirs would not be for eternity, that
was reserved for Dezenial.  But what Emily and Vaide would share would
enable Emily to continue in this life, her heartache lessoning with time versus
intensifying.  And he could not push.  It was not their way.  It
was not his place.  Emily was his queen and he loved her deeply, but not
in the way mortal men love mortal women.  In that, he’d not been able to
fully make Broc, nor Aunsgar understand the difference.  Broc’s heart
pounded over a recent event, the memory still making him break out in a
sweat.  Two separate occasions, Emily had stood upon the outer curtain
wall.  Urkani had coaxed her down, Elven footing more sure than any of
theirs.  The second time, her Daemon protector had leapt from the ground
to the forty-foot high wall top—his men still spoke of it—and simply whisked
her into his arms and jumped down.  He didn’t think he’d ever forget
Maeve’s shriek.  Vaide had handed her to Urkani, spoken a few words to him
in Elvish, and stepped back, becoming one with the wall.  By now, his men
were accustomed to Vaide’s uncanny ability to appear next to Emily without
warning, then vanish.  The Elf commander had forced her into physical
activity, his daily teas secretly laden with Elvish herbs to begin putting
color in her cheeks . . . and increase her appetite.  Maeve made sure to
serve everything she could create with potatoes, oats, and barley.  Meat
on the bones was what the lass needed, the auld woman had crowed.