Shattered: An Urban Romantic Fantasy Page 12
Dad nodded. “She is the first emrys. Revered. Much like royalty.”
Cystenian and I both came from children of Urien. Were we cousins? “My child’s not inbred, is she?” I hope I’m not inbred.
“The lines break from Urien’s several thousand years ago. You’re third cousins.”
I shivered and rubbed my arms. Third cousins? That’s cutting it pretty close. “This is so messed up. Couldn’t the prophecy be about you?”
“Valid point. Your mother wasn’t a pure emrys, so it couldn’t have been about your mother and me.”
“Wait. Hold on a moment. My mother wasn’t a pure emrys? What about Mom? She’s human, right?” I’d guessed that she didn’t have powers and couldn’t have been an emrys.
“Jessica is your adopted mother,” Dad said. “She’s human.”
I shook my head, ignoring the blow to my heart that speared pain through me. “Was she never planning on telling me?” I closed my eyes and pictured Mom. I hadn’t given our differences much thought. Her hair was brown. Mine was auburn. Red coloring could come from anywhere on the family tree, even if it wasn’t evident for generations. Did my birth mother have red hair? Maybe the trait came from her.
“Jessica knows nothing about this world. She believes you are her biological daughter.” Every word that came out of his mouth was so straightforward, without emotion, as if he’d spent years compartmentalizing so he’d be indifferent to the truth.
It made me hate him even more. I suddenly felt hot. “How? Did you add that to her memories?”
My father looked down. “Yes.”
An emrys skilled in manipulation. Maybe with all these powers, emrys were not to be trusted. “Who’s my real mother? How’d you end up with me?” My skin itched along my arms and legs, as if in response to my rising irritation. I ached to scratch myself raw while the heat and itch kept building under my skin. I just might shoot flames right out of my eyes and torch Dad.
“I won’t tell you that.” He drew back a step and raised his arms defensively. He could tell something was brewing inside me.
Good. Be afraid.
“It’s too dangerous knowing,” Dad said. “No one knows who your mother is.”
Why not? Was my mother an evil half-bred spawn? Was she cruel like my father? Maybe she was nice. Perhaps he had taken me away from her. Had he kidnapped me because he was cruel? That was the only explanation for why someone as coarse as my father would even raise me in the first place.
“Anerah, I’m not a horrible person. And I wouldn’t say your mother was cruel. She’s misguided. Severely. There’s just so much to explain.”
Stay out of my head! “Why can’t I know who she is? Don’t you think I could look up some emrys genealogy and figure this out?” I’d seriously hoped I could. They had to have extensive records.
“Your birth wasn’t documented.”
“You have to be kidding me.”
“We also didn’t bind our light,” Dad said. “It was a one-night fling. A mistake. The result of a fae spell.”
“A fae spell? Again?”
“They are a much-used tool in the hands of evil.”
“I hate these freakin’ fae!” Fueled by the outrage in my voice, energy lurched from me, without a single command. It ripped through the sky, straight toward my father.
He spread a single palm wide in front of him. That was the only movement. My energy slammed against his palm. A bright flash momentarily blinded me before my energy flew back, all in the blink of an eye.
I was too dumbfounded to duck or dive away.
The energy hit me hard. I sprawled backward onto my butt, winded.
I squeezed my eyes tight with annoyance. I wasn’t really hurt. My pride had taken a beating though. So this was what it felt like to be an emrys, to harness power and to take a hit.
And my father had let it happen.
He stood over me, with his hand extended. “Your mother, your real mother, planned this,” he said calmly. “She enlisted the fae to make our union. It was part of her ultimate design.”
I ignored his hand and rolled onto my side. “So she could have a child?” I pushed to my feet. This was a nightmare. Look how many lies he’d concealed. Look at the hundreds, probably thousands, of memories he’d fabricated. I wasn’t letting my father into my life. There was no way.
“So she could have a child without bonding with me.”
I glared at him. I couldn’t possibly understand all the implications this held. “Look, Vaughan. I don’t trust you. I trust myself.” I stepped toward the cliff’s edge. “Stay out of my head. Don’t ever tamper with my memories again, and stay away from my daughter.”
He cocked his eyebrow.
“Oh, and stay away from Bronwen too.” I took a breath, spread my arms, and I jumped.
TWENTY-ONE
My hawk wings ignited without much more than a thought, and as soon as my father was out of sight and I was soaring high, I broke down in tears that streamed off my face and into the oblivion. His presence lingered too close, as if he was prying into my mind.
Back off!
I would have to talk to Bronwen about this bond between my father and me and see if anything could be done.
I flew toward the estate, only marginally worried that the locals might see me. I didn’t care. My wings didn’t need to be kept a secret like my relationship with Cystenian. Everyone would find out soon enough when Bronwen and I spent time flying together.
Unfortunately, I was too upset to enjoy being airborne in this glorious world. Everything blurred before my sight. I knew the trees and the buildings only because of the messy colors, like smeared paint on a canvas. That was all I needed not to crash.
Despite everything, I followed my intuition—which I now guessed was an emrys maternal bond, since I was learning so much about bonds today—toward Trysten. I was drawn to her.
My milk had come in after the stress at the portal with Cystenian this morning. After the midday meal and before we’d left for the bluff, Bronwen had me practice a trick to keep from embarrassing myself with a wet chest, by using my energy to prevent my milk from leaking. (I was just beginning to glimpse the skills the emrys possessed.) I was too distraught to focus my light. My top stuck to my breasts as milk dribbled out and froze to me in the cold air.
I landed, with a small trip of my feet, outside the estate near the rear gardens that led up to the house. I pulled my shirt away from my chest. I was a soaked and an embarrassing mess between the moisture on my face and chest. But Trysten was close. I could sense her in my mind, a few hedges and a bedroom wall away. I tried to think of her instead of my father and his words.
My daughter is the only important thing in all the worlds combined. I would not fret about Cystenian or his betrothal or how I wasn’t supposed to “bond” with him.
I didn’t understand any of this.
I rounded a hedge and smacked right into something hard. I thought I ran into one of the garden’s many statues, but I looked up into Cystenian’s face.
He gripped my shoulders in a gesture that shouldn’t have sent bees buzzing through my gut. “Anerah. Are you all right?”
I squirmed, trying to break his hold. I couldn’t deal with him, not when I was so angry at my father. I was too overwhelmed. I wanted to be home, on Earth, in my bed, with Mom and Trysten cuddling with me. “Let go of me!”
He dropped his hands, and instantly I felt their loss.
“What’s wrong?” he asked. “What happened? You can talk to me. Bronwen arrived home with a tear-streaked face, and you’re blistering mad… and wet.”
Oh no. I covered my chest with an arm and swiped at my eyes. “My father happened. That’s what.”
“Your father? He’s here?”
I squeezed my fists and challenged Cystenian with my tone. “Do you know him?” Please, don’t tell me you do. Please, can’t I keep everything in my life separate from him?
“I’m not sure. What’s his name?”
/> “Vaughan.” I cursed his name in my heart as I said it.
“I know a Vaughan,” Cystenian said with careful, thoughtful words. “He had a dalliance with Bronwen. She made me swear not to tell our parents.”
“You can’t be serious.” Everything crumbled inside me. My heart broke apart and dropped to my feet. My emotions clashed together like loud cymbals.
“He’s your father?”
“If it’s the same guy.” I covered my face with my hand while making sure I kept my chest covered. This whole mess, especially my leaky breasts, was mortifying. I could die on the spot.
After more than a minute, in which I fumed and wondered how much my father could hear, I wondered what the heck Cystenian was thinking of all this. I forgot about my dribbling milk and paced in front of Cystenian, wringing my hands, debating what to tell him.
I couldn’t tell him that it was dangerous to bond with him. He was betrothed. He wasn’t thinking about bonding with me. I wanted so badly to confide in him. For months I’d had one-sided conversations with him at the rock in the fairy glen. I told him stories about our growing daughter. I wondered what he was like. I’d fantasized about being his wife.
All of which my father had doubtless heard…
I glanced at Cystenian. He was waiting patiently, following my steps with his eyes, noting my twisting hands.
“Oh, Cystenian.” I quit moving. “Dad tells me I’m part of some prophecy. He says it’s not safe here for me, because I’m a half-emrys. Do you know anything about this?”
“A prophecy? What does it say?”
I wouldn’t tell him the part about bonding. I couldn’t. It was too absurd for me to presume that we might bond someday. “What do you know about the Dark Master’s prison? Do you know how it might be opened?”
“A prophecy was made, but the details are unclear. I just know that the chances of the prison opening are remote. It was shut by Urien and Siana, using powerful magic. It would take powerful magic to undo such a seal.”
“Okay.” I nodded. This must not be a concern or I’d think babes would be quoting the prophecy from infancy. Dad didn’t even know the exact wording. “I feel better.”
“Why’d this upset you so much?”
I took a steadying breath. “Dad wants me to go home, back to Earth. Apparently, he has a way to open the portal between here and Earth.”
Cystenian frowned. “If you think you must.”
Why did he have to be so accommodating? Would it kill him to say something like, over my dead body? “You don’t understand. My father has been lying to me my entire life. He abandoned me when I was five. He planted memories in my head, horrible memories that will haunt me forever. I don’t know the real him. I can’t trust him, so I can’t return to Earth because he wants me to.” Even if it will keep a prison from opening. “I can’t take Trysten away from you either.”
“You’re afraid I won’t be a father to her.” This time when he reached out to rub my upper arms, I let him. “I will always be there for her.”
“Do you promise?”
“I swear it. Nothing will change that. Even if you decide to go home. I’ll figure out how to open the portal so I can visit you. I’ll ask your father how he did it. I’ll do whatever you ask of me.”
I wanted him to be mine. To be betrothed to me. “I’m staying here for her. For you.”
As it dripped off my jaw, Cystenian caught a tear and rubbed it between his index finger and thumb. “All right.” He nodded. “Anerah, you’re strong. Don’t worry about some prophecy. You’re safe here. I don’t see how Emira is any different from Earth. The Dark Master’s prison is on Bryn. If you don’t go there, I can’t see how you could take part in any prophecy.”
“Will you look into the details? Do you have someone you can ask? I want to be sure.”
“I’ll consult one of the scholars who frequents Pryderi, the second vale, where the Grand Library is. I believe they keep records of prophecies.”
“Records. Plural?”
“Bryn is home to the seers—the tegyd. They expound all sorts of wisdom. Sometimes it’s just ramblings. Their people write them down, and then they bring the prophecies to the library and catalog them.”
I rubbed my neck. The muscles were rock hard from stress. I’d have a full-blown tension headache in a matter of hours. “Thanks. I’d feel better knowing something was being done.” Because I can’t trust a word from my father’s mouth.
Cystenian’s hand slipped underneath my heavy waves to the base of my neck. He pressed his forehead to mine, nearly taking my breath away. Heat rushed from his fingertips into my tense muscles. The developing pinching diminished. Cystenian broke his hold and swept away before I could thank him.
Wow. This healing stuff is awesome!
As I stood there, caressing the heat his fingers had left on my neck, I realized he left me with one of his emotions.
His devotion.
He might not have been able to love me, but I was something to him, and that made all the difference in the world.
TWENTY-TWO
Shock, utter shock.
I walked into the dining hall and found Cystenian’s family seated around the table in their usual positions—
And my father seated at the end, across from Tomos.
I couldn’t believe Dad would impose on their hospitality.
I couldn’t contain the fury under my skin. A heat rash bloomed across my hands and forearms, matching the shade of my berry-colored dress. Behind me, Aelwen, with Trysten in her arms, scurried over to an armchair in the corner. It seemed the estate was set up for Aelwen to be close with Trysten but never actually joining us.
Equality my butt.
Aelwen didn’t seem to mind.
I was late to dinner because of changing Trysten. The meal hadn’t started—everyone was polite enough to wait.
My father rose to his feet when he saw me, and everyone else followed his lead. With my head held high, I afforded Dad one glare and then hurried as regally as I could to the last seat, which unfortunately put me to his right. As I sat, I smiled at Cystenian and nodded to his parents. Bronwen took my hand as soon as we were tucked in. She squeezed it, as she always did when she was afraid I’d explode. Her touch portrayed caution and excitement. I stole a glance at her but saw her looking past me, to Dad.
Oh, here we go.
They had no doubt been secret lovers. A simple dalliance. Yeah, right.
Supper was going to be awkward.
The sun was setting, so the sky was gloriously streaked with a myriad of colors. The drapes were open, allowing the show in, but the light was dim enough that several glowing orbs on candlesticks dotted the table. Bronwen had told me that the orbs were hollow glass infused with light. The magical equivalent to a light bulb, I guessed.
Tomos and Eiluned were in good spirits as supper was served. It seemed my father’s presence hadn’t upset them. Clearly they didn’t know of Bronwen’s feelings for him.
“Vaughan, it’s nice to see you after such a long time,” Tomos said as he cut a piece of steak. “What’s kept you away?”
I swallowed my drink before I choked on it. Yes, Father, what has kept you away? I was greatly interested in his past with these people.
“I had some business on Earth.” Dad smiled across the table as if all were right in the world.
“Earth, ah, yes,” Tomos said. “Bronwen told me you had gone. Whatever for?”
Yes, Father. Whatever for?
Dad afforded me a blank stare before gazing across the table to Tomos. “My reason is my own. It should suffice to say that it was for the benefit of Bryn.”
I blew air out my nostrils. For Bryn. Really.
“Our Cystenian passed through the portal to Earth and met your daughter.” Eiluned set down her goblet after taking a sip. “We understand that fae opened the portal twice now, but tell me, how did you pass through? Surely you can’t command the fae?”
Oh, it was on. Eiluned wa
s challenging Dad. Her voice left no room for doubt.
“Of course not,” Dad replied.
“Then what can you tell us about our children being put under a spell by them?”
“Mum,” Cystenian said, “You can hardly insinuate that Anerah’s father had any part in a fae spell.”
“Obviously, he didn’t.” Bronwen furrowed her brow in my father’s direction. “Vaughan, you’d better tell them the truth about the portal, about the last time you were here on a diplomatic mission. Anerah needs to know as well.”
“The truth, Bronwen?” Dad asked in earnest as he held her gaze. Bronwen’s eyes reddened with moisture.
Apparently, he was trying to figure out what part of the truth to share. I was sick of these games. “What is going on here?” I threw my napkin down, ready to rise if I wasn’t given some real answers. “Dad, tell us about the portal.”
“This happened years before you were born, Anerah. I traveled between worlds as an ambassador for my father and mother.”
“My grandparents?” I asked. More people I hadn’t met.
“Meuric and Catrin.”
“Catrin?” I looked at Cystenian. “The same from your story?”
“The one and the same,” he said. “There’s a time-travel story that goes with it. Very complex.”
“But she opened the rift into…”
“Gorlassar,” Dad said. “But that’s not this story. Meuric and Catrin had taken over rule in Morvith, one of the realms on Bryn. Civil war was fought off and on for centuries. None of the lords could settle on boundary lines and trade, not since Empress Rhianu had given up rule.”
“This doesn’t seem to do with the portal,” I said.
“I’m getting to it.” Dad tapped his plate with his fork as he gathered his thoughts. “Remember, I was here to convince Bronwen to come to Bryn to aid me in my treaty with the southern province.”
“I remember,” Tomos said.
“You didn’t want me to travel to the mortal world,” Bronwen replied.
“With good reason,” Eiluned said.
“None of that matters anymore,” Cystenian said. “How did you know a portal was on our estate? How did you open it?”