The Fallen Stars (A Star Child Novel) (40 page)

“It doesn’t mean what it does in your world.”

“She loved
me
.” My words were intended to convince me as much as they did Willock. I forced a determined edge into my voice as I fought to keep the tremors from it, brought on by the chill air.

Willock touched his hand to his mouth. Was he remembering his shared kiss with Cali?
Bastard.
He looked at me. “I know she loves you. She never pretended any different.” He moved to stand closer to the wall. “But,” he continued, “she made me see, for just a moment, how it
could
be.”

His cheeks glistened with tears and I pitied him. At least I had dozens of memories with Cali. Though they still weren’t enough, they were more than the one memory that he held in his heart so carefully. The youthful appearance of the twenty-something young man that Willock once assumed was gone. Now a broken man stood before me.

“Then why are you helping Arawn?” I asked.

“Because it’s the only way—”

The door burst open behind him and Arawn stood inside the frame. Though his facial features were not distinguishable, I could sense his displeasure. “You thought to bar me entry, Willock?”

Willock stepped back for a moment, possibly to hide his face in the shadows. “No, my lord. I took the initiative to prevent Master Kellen from escaping.” His voice had that wry tone that I’d become so familiar with.

Arawn said nothing, but continued to stare at Willock until the man’s legs began to shake beneath him.

Interceding, I stepped forward. “Are we going to save my brother or not?”

Without a word, Arawn beckoned to me, turning away from Willock. The man collapsed on the patio. Not daring to stop and help him, I kept pace with Arawn as we made our way back through the house, which looked as dark and dismal as ever. Even more so, for it looked like it had fallen into a state of disrepair.

Curtains hung at odd angles from the windows, the rods broken or falling out of the wall brackets. Chairs lay sideways on the floor; newspapers were everywhere. The kitchen, which had once been so open and bright, was littered with spoilt food. Gagging, I held my breath until we passed to avoid being sick. The image of Roger in this place popped into my head. I forced it away.

When I entered the study again, a clean-cut Roger sat fully dressed on the couch next to his suitcase. His eyes were closed. Was he asleep or unconscious?

Arawn seemed to sense my questions and he snapped his fingers, causing Roger to open his eyes, much like at the end of a hypnosis session. Without the influence of the changeling blood in his veins, Roger had a much more positive appearance. He stared at me and then looked around for a moment. I assumed he couldn’t see Arawn, as he hadn’t even glanced in his direction. If he had, he would have gaped at his impossible form.

“Kellen?” He barely seemed to manage my name.

“Hey, Rog.” His nickname sounded foreign on my lips; I hadn’t spoken it in years.

“I didn’t know you were home. Where’s Dad?” he asked.

My head throbbed to hear Roger call Stephen
Dad
. Either he’d had more of a relationship with Stephen, or something in their connection made him feel like there was more there. I didn’t know.

“I’m sorry, Rog, but he died. Remember? We went to the funeral.” Glancing at Arawn, I willed him to plant memories of the funeral in Roger’s mind. It must have worked, because after a moment of what appeared to be furious pondering, Roger spoke up.

“Oh yeah. I forgot somehow.”

“You probably tried to put it out of your mind. I know I’ll be doing the same.” I let out a sigh intentionally.

“Right.” Roger glanced at the bags all around him.

“You’re going back to school tonight, huh?” I prodded, testing him out after the de-changeling process.

Roger looked at the bags again. “Looks that way.”

“Okay, well, have a safe trip.” Turning, I started walking to the door. Roger needed to leave and this conversation with him only delayed his departure.

“Kellen.”

His voice stopped me and I turned around, giving him my full attention. I hooked a thumb in my back pocket to assume a more casual stance. As if it weren’t of the utmost importance that Roger get out of there for his own safety.

“Thanks for the letters from Mom,” he said.

My stomach did a flip as I recalled the letters addressed to Roger that I’d found hidden at Gran’s. I’d sent them to Roger a couple of days before my almost wedding. “No problem.”

“I haven’t read them yet, but I will,” he said, patting the side of his suitcase.

“Yeah.” Turning to leave, I looked back. “Hey, when you read them…if you need to, like, you know, talk, call me or something.”

Roger nodded, paling slightly. Perhaps he guessed how bad they would be.
He had no idea.

Arawn waved a hand in front of Roger and he was gone then, luggage and all.

Glancing in the direction of my new partner, I demanded, “He better have made it home.”

“And he did.” Arawn’s voice no longer held the silky, amused tone that he’d used with me earlier. Now his voice betrayed his impatience, and perhaps a touch of weariness. “Willock!” His shout jarred me as Willock practically scurried into the room.

He’d cleaned himself up, looking calmer than when I’d seen him on the patio. “Yes, Masters.”

It was disconcerting the way that he’d started referring to me as “Master”. Though I supposed that such a title had become my only identity now. I was the Master of Danu’s Amulet.

“It is time for Kellen here to lose his humanity.”

Stepping forward, I forced myself to remember that I would not think about who I had been, about who I had to become to protect anyone else from becoming Arawn’s victim. I would only think about Cali and how she would have wanted me to protect her family. Inside, my heart steeled under my own resolve.

CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT

KELLEN—
AMULET

“
Willock, get Kellen into position for our ceremony.” Arawn sounded infinitely pleased, like a kid on Christmas morning. He appeared to rub his hands together.

Willock led me to a chair in the middle of the room. He stood in front of me and placed his hands on my shoulders. It was a good thing, too, because I nearly fell out of the chair when his voice sounded in my head.

I am going to relax you. Look at me. When I give you the sign, start twitching about like you’re in pain. And try to look evil
, Willock said, communicating with me telepathically.

Raising my eyebrows slightly, I otherwise acted like nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Arawn looked on.

As the effects of Willock’s spell relaxed me, I sat back in the chair. My breath hitched slightly, but I did my best to focus on calming it. Bringing it down to a slow even keel. I closed my eyes.

Cali. Her hair, her scent, her smile…

Though I’d planned to keep my thoughts positive, to focus only on Cali as she was before and not as she had become, my thoughts drifted to the negative. Cali was my everything, and now she’d gone from this Earth. She would never be my wife. She would never be mine.

What would I become now? What did being a changeling entail? Immortality? I’d already turned it down once, and without Cali I didn’t want to revisit the discussion. I should have asked these questions before, but what did it matter now?

Maybe Willock could help me somehow. I couldn’t take down Arawn alone.

“Kellen.” Arawn’s voice jarred me from my thoughts. “This is going to hurt.”

Now, Kellen!
Willock’s voice in my head prompted me to remember his earlier instructions.

“Ahhh!” Crying out, I grabbed my mid-section and cringed, making my legs flail about in the chair. I even made a point of falling onto the floor for good measure. I didn’t find it too difficult to pretend I felt the pain. Thinking of Cali made the emotions come alive for me.

“Noooo!” Curling into the fetal position, I made myself twitch erratically on the floor. Why wasn’t I feeling some intense pain? Did Willock prevent it from happening?

“Ahhh!”

Slow it down. Not as intense now.

I eased the fake spasms until they were almost non-existent. With my shouts no longer filling the room, the silence overwhelmed me.

Cali is dead.
I choked back tears. I couldn’t think of her.

Arawn’s voice broke the stillness. “Okay, Kellen. Get up.”

Quickly I stood, my back to Arawn. Calling to mind every horrible thing that had ever happened to me, I slowly turned on the spot and looked to Arawn. Meeting his eyes, I willed him to believe me. Willock had clearly done something to save me. He was my only shot at getting the heck out of this twisted mess. I had to trust him.

“Very good. You will make a fine changeling,” said Willock.

“Now, Kellen, Willock has given me the amulet. You will give me the pendant from your neck and I will insert it into the amulet,” Arawn said.

My brow furrowed, but then I remembered that I was supposed to look evil. “Should I not be the one to do that? You said that you needed me to wield the amulet’s power.”

Arawn smiled. “Yes, but Willock, my loyal servant, has guaranteed that if I join the two I will be restored to my original body. The one that the amulet stole from me all those years ago.”

Willock’s voice was there again, in my head.
Give it to him, Kellen. It’s the only way.

Knowing I had little choice, I offered my mother’s pendant to Arawn. As Arawn’s hand reached for the pendant, I remembered Lugh’s words that my pendant had little more than sentimental value.

As Arawn snapped it roughly from my hand, its absence made me want to stop him, to reclaim what was mine. Greedily, he held my mother’s pendant up to the light and inspected it. Then, ever so carefully, he brought it down on top of the amulet.

For a moment, he transformed in front of my eyes into one of the most handsome men that I’d ever seen. His hair was long and blond, falling down over his ripped muscles. He had the same blue eyes that all of Cali’s family members did. They looked up at me and they were alight with triumph and evil.

“I own you now, Kellen St. James,” said Arawn.

Take cover!
Willock’s astounded cry broke my concentration and I turned and ran toward the same chair that I’d sat in earlier. The explosion threw me forward, past the chair and against the wall with a resounding thud. A sickening crunch, along with accompanying pain and the taste of blood in the back of my mouth, told me that my nose was broken.

An immense blast of light filled the room, taking out the windows and burning my back. Closing my eyes, I shielded them with my other arm. I stayed there until the heat of the explosion died down.

Rubble had landed upon me in the explosion and I shifted it, grabbing the back of a table for support as I stood. I squinted in the darkness. The light had gone and smoke filled the room, hovering in the air like a thick fog for several feet above the floor. I crouched back down, coughing, and crawled, making my way over to the spot where Arawn had stood only a moment ago.

Where Arawn had been, however, nothing remained but a large black ring burned into the carpet. Like a carpet crop circle. In the middle of the circle lay my pendant. Inching forward, I extended my left hand toward the pendant.

“You can pick it up. Nothing will happen.” Willock’s voice made me jump. Turning in the direction from which I’d hear it, I found Willock sitting up on the carpet. His face and hair were tinged with soot, but otherwise he looked unharmed. Willock waved a hand and the smoke vanished.

Standing up, I walked over and extended a hand to him. He took it and stood as well, brushing the filth off his clothes as he rose.

Okay, I’ll ask the obvious question.
“What happened to Arawn?” Standing straighter, my back cracked and I tried not to wince from the pain.

“Arawn was given misinformation. He thought that if he held the amulet in his hand and joined it with your pendant that it would heal him.”

“And that wasn’t true?”

“It might have been, if I had given him the real amulet,” Willock said with a grim smile.

There was a rushing sound in my ears as I digested this. “So what did you give him?”

“A decoy, a fake. I have the true amulet. When the two are joined it can only be done by one person.”

“Me.” Though I said the word instantly, my tone betrayed my lack of conviction.

“Yes. You are the only one who can join them and the only one who can touch them once they are combined.”

“But I don’t understand why. If I’m part changeling, why would I have control over the amulet?” This stuff was messed up. All I wanted to do was go home, though I probably had no home to go to now. Who knew if Gran’s house had been spared?

“That is what I am trying to get to, Kellen, if you’ll let me. You’re
not
part changeling. The Stephen that you knew, that you lived with, wasn’t your father. He fathered your brother, but not you.”

The rushing in my ears came back full force. I wasn’t Stephen’s son. I had a different father. I wasn’t a changeling? As per usual when dealing with Faerie, it overwhelmed me.

Cali is dead. Gabe is dead. The pseudo-weird Stephen is dead. Where do I belong? Where?

I looked to Willock for answers. “Then who am I?” I asked, trying to remain calm.

“I think that we should wait until—”

“No, we’re not going to wait!” Taking a step back, I ran a hand through my hair and let out a slow breath. “Who am I, Willock?”

“Kellen—”

“You people mess with me all the time and I’m sick of it!” I said, my anger building as I got right up in his face. If he wanted to kill me, let him. I was so done.

“But I don’t know if I’m—”

“
Who the hell am I, Willock?
”