Bound In Blue: Book One Of The Sword Of Elements (11 page)

BOOK: Bound In Blue: Book One Of The Sword Of Elements
10.95Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

 

CHAPTER NINETEEN

 

When I drove home, Peter’s mom was sitting on the porch of the main house and motioned for me to park. Rising to greet me as I climbed the wide stairs, she gave me a warm hug. Even though I’d known her just about all my life, I still called her Mrs. Larsen. The Larsens were formal people and older than most other parents of kids our age. Peter sometimes called them Sir and Ma’am.

“C’mon in, Rhi. There’s something I need to talk to you about.”

I nodded and followed her into the house. I was surprised when she went into the formal living room and sat down on the sofa. It was going to be one of
those
kind of talks. She must have found out Peter was lying to her. I sat down beside her and braced myself to cover for him.

“I got a call from the school. They said you missed classes on Monday.”

It took me a moment to remember the Larsens were listed as my guardians and of course the school would call them.  I came up with the first excuse I could think of. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t even think to tell you. I didn’t feel well and I went home. I should have let you know.”

Mrs. Larsen shook her head. “I’m not worried about that. But you see, it reminded me that I’ve been putting off something I need to do.” She stood and walked over to the fireplace to pick up an envelope sitting on the mantle. “It’s no secret I never agreed much with your mother’s style of parenting—you were so little when you came to us and so starved for affection.” She turned suddenly. “I don’t mean to say she didn’t love you. I’m sure she did.” Her voice hardened. “She just never seemed to show it. I never once saw that woman hold your hand or kiss your cheek.”

There was nothing I could say to that. I had no memory of Viviane—Mom—doing those things either.

Mrs. Larsen tapped the envelope against her palm and then crossed the room and sat back down beside me. “I’m sorry, honey, I shouldn’t have said that. It just used to make me so mad. When you and Peter became close, I thought maybe I could give you some of the affection you were missing.”

Tears sprang to my eyes. “And you did. I love you and Mr. Larsen.”

“We love you too, sweetheart. You know that, right?” I nodded and she handed me the envelope. Typed across the top left corner was
R. Goodfellow and Associates
. “Your mother and I had an argument a few days before she collapsed.” Mrs. Larsen grimaced. “Well, I had an argument anyway.”

“What about?”

“You. Your mother told me she knew she was dying. Informed me just like that as if there were nothing else that needed discussing except for who would take over caring for the gardens—as if that was the only thing I would be concerned about. She actually seemed surprised when I asked if we could become your guardians. She said no. I wouldn’t have argued if she had someone else in mind, but she seemed to think her death wouldn’t make much difference to you at all.”

“But she did make you my guardians.”

“After I threatened to contact Children’s Aid! The next day she presented me with this.” She motioned to the envelope.

I pulled a sheet of paper out; it was another birth certificate. According to this one, I’d turned eighteen on my last birthday.

Mrs. Larsen shook her head. “I don’t know why she lied about your age. Maybe it was a mistake she never bothered to correct. She gave me permission to take care of you for a little while, but you’re legally in charge of your own life. I’m sorry it took me so long to give this to you, but I guess I wasn’t ready to let go.” She grasped my hands and gave them a little shake. “It doesn’t change anything. We’re family and no piece of paper can take that away.”

After twenty minutes of reassurance accompanied by chocolate chip cookies, I went home. Sitting on the couch with the two nearly identical documents on the table in front of me, I searched my memory of the years and could only come up with seventeen of them. Goodfellow did say Mom had a few copies made up. This one had been created to free me from the Larsens’ watchful eyes, but why? They’d never tried to enforce any authority over me after she died, but maybe only because they believed I was already legally an adult.

Viviane Lynne was listed as my mother, but no father. I looked at my name printed out in duplicate and a wave of pain passed between my temples. The words on the papers in front of me seemed to writhe and crawl. The longer I looked at my name—Rhiannon Lynne—the less it seemed to have any meaning and the more exposed I felt. Acting on impulse, I picked up the certificate Goodfellow gave me and ripped it right through my name. The pressure immediately eased.

I was just about to do the same to the other one when a thought occurred to me: even if it was a lie, the new certificate would come in handy. I didn’t have to answer to anyone if they thought I was eighteen. I was free.

How can I be free when I don’t even know who I really am?

After I put the remaining certificate safely between the pages of a gardening book in the book case, I felt better. Making a decision, I pulled out my phone to text Peter that I was coming and was ready to get some answers.

As if in response, three howls echoed through the fields behind the house.

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER TWENTY

 

Hunting for anything that howls is a bad idea, but I ran out of the house and circled it. Nothing. I even walked over to the guesthouses, but they were locked and quiet. Convincing myself it must have been Old Tom’s collie, I put it out of my mind and went home to get ready.

Changing into jeans and a long-sleeved shirt, I tucked the charm bracelet under my cuff. I’d been wearing it almost every day even though red irritation ringed my wrist like a burn. I also decided not to show Excalibur to Taliesin. I didn’t know why, but I wanted to keep both the charm and the sword a secret.

Just between me and Mom.

When I arrived at the mansion, Rowan was working in the garden and waved me over. “Did you do all this?” I asked as I admired the neat beds of shrubs and flowers.

Rowan brushed the dirt from his hands. “I thought I would make myself useful and leave things better than we found them. It’s too late in the season to do much, but it’s still an improvement.”

I knelt down beside him and pointed to the clump of pink, ruffled flowers he’d been clearing the weeds away from. “They’re pretty. What are they?”

“Anemone. I’ve been helping them along.” Rowan ran his hands over them, murmuring words I didn’t recognize in a humming drone. The plants swelled and stretched to meet his palms the way a cat arches its back to be stroked.

I gasped. “How’d you do that?”

The tanned skin around his eyes crinkled into deep lines when he smiled. “In another life I was a druid, a priest in the religion of the Celts.” He touched a small Celtic cross on a chain around his neck. “In many ways, I still am. The earth blessed me with the power to nurture life. I may have wandered from the religion of my youth, but the abilities I developed have never left me.” Following my gaze, he lifted the cross to show me. “You’re wondering why I wear this symbol of faith.”

“I guess I thought magic made religion irrelevant.”

Rowan chuckled. “There are no more definitive answers to be found in magic than there are in anything else. Magic is just an ability; one as valid as a talent for singing, or painting, or fixing cars. There are Christian, Muslim, Buddhist, and Jewish magic users. There are some who cling still to the gods of the old world. There’s even a small contingent of Rastafarians among the Greylanders beyond the Wall.”

I stared at him for a second. “You’re joking.”

He laughed. “Yes, but I wouldn’t be surprised. All beliefs are found among us, and for all our powers, not one of us knows for sure what lies beyond the veil of death, especially those of us who have cheated it for so long. We have merely been given more time to ponder the question. Despite what some might believe, we are not gods. I have faith there is something out there greater than myself, otherwise, why endure at all if everything we know and love will disappear into nothingness?” A shadow passed over his face, but then he smiled and it was gone. “I hear you met my wife.”

I was thrown by the sudden change of topic. “Your wife?”

Rowan stood and offered a hand to pull me up. “Boudica. Or Bo as we call her. Tall, red hair, plenty of attitude. I think you ran into her at some bakery around town. Sound familiar?”

I brushed the grass off my knees. “You’re married to
her
?”

He laughed again. “I see she made quite an impression. She usually does. I love my wife, but diplomacy is not one of her strengths. She caught it from Tal when one of the other Protectors tattled on her about your little encounter. Tal figured that’s why you hadn’t been by.”

I nodded. My encounter with Rowan’s wife had nothing to do with me not coming, but it seemed smarter to let them think that.

Rowan put a gentle hand on my shoulder. “Before we met, my wife suffered a great tragedy. She has a suspicious nature, but she’ll come around. Try to give her a second chance, if you can.”

I nodded and it seemed to satisfy him. As the druid escorted me inside, he called out—“Tynan, she’s here!”—before winking and leaving me standing alone in the foyer.

Tynan bounded down the stairs “You’re here!”

“I’m here,” I repeated.

“Hello, Rhi.” Dressed in a black leather jacket and jeans, Daley emerged from the dining room and my heart jumped in my chest as if I’d been shocked. Considering him with fresh eyes, I wondered how any of us had ever believed he was a high school student. Miko must have helped that along with a little fairy glamour. “You shouldn’t have let Boudica put you off from coming.”

“Yeah, well, it didn’t exactly inspire me with confidence.”

“If you’d heard Taliesin rake her over the coals about it, you might have been reassured—but then, you weren’t here, were you.” It was an accusation, not a question.

Tynan had edged closer to me and the way he hunched to hide his height made me feel like he was bending over me, cornering me. “It was bad. Dad stripped her of her command. Rowan thinks she’ll get it back, but I don’t know. Once Dad makes a decision, he usually sticks with it.”

Daley’s voice was cold. “She shouldn’t. Boudica was under strict instructions to leave Rhi alone. She’s never been good at taking orders and that makes her a liability.”

Tynan looked away. “You don’t understand her pain.”

“It doesn’t make it OK.”

Great. Five minutes and I’m already in the middle of a sibling spat.

I cleared my throat to get their attention. “So Daley, how old are you anyway? Cuz you sound positively ancient. You’re not Ty’s Dad, you know.”

“I’m old enough to know better.”

“Better than who? Me? Or someone who buys her outfits at Bondage R Us and got her butt kicked by a girl carrying a box of pastries.”

“From what I heard, nobody got their butt kicked, as you so politely put it. Boudica recognized she was facing someone reckless and untrained and made the smart decision to back down. The only smart thing she did, I agree, but still a lot better than throwing magic around in front of a bunch of civilians. She chose to walk away from a confrontation that might have hurt someone.”

“She didn’t walk. She ran.”

That might be a little bit of an exaggeration.

Daley looked disgusted. “Is that something to be proud of? If you knew anything at all about what you’re doing then you’d know how wrong that is. It isn’t fear to stay clear of a rabid dog.”

“Am I the dog in this scenario?”

“Don’t be stupid. You know what I mean.”

“No, I don’t think I do. And Boudica didn’t back off because she was smart. She was scared. I think she knew she couldn’t take me. But if you don’t believe me, maybe you’d like to give it a try and see how far you get.”

“Are you challenging me?”

Strange emotions colored hot pink and candy apple red seemed to fill the air. “Not a challenge—a promise.”

And could I be any more clichéd?

“Stop it!” Tynan stepped between us. With shame, I realized I’d forgotten he was even there. Glancing back at Daley, I saw sparks glistening in his hair and a hot light glowing in his eyes. Looking like that, I could believe he was the god of thunder.

“Ah, I thought I heard voices.” Taliesin appeared in the foyer and I wondered how much he’d heard. “Tynan, please tell Miko to bring the harp to the study.” Tynan nodded and went up the stairs.

“You two, come with me.” The bard’s tone was icy.

I guess he heard enough.

“I’m sorry. And it’s twenty-one,” Daley murmured as we followed Taliesin.

“What?”

“I turned twenty-one last April, so not so old after all.”

My heart jumped again. I had no name for the colors I was seeing/feeling.

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

 

Taliesin led us to the study. I pretended to examine the books in the bookcase and endured the awkward silence until Miko burst in carrying her leather bag over one shoulder.

“Finally! Now we can get some answers.” She stopped and frowned. “What’s wrong?”

Tynan pushed past her. “Rhi and Daley were fighting.”

Peter’s arrival spared me from responding. “Hey, Rhi. Did you see Mom and Dad?”

I punched him in the arm hard enough to make him wince. “I saw your mom. Don’t ever make me hide anything from her again. They bought your story. That’s not what we talked about though. I’ll tell you about it later.”

Peter looked curious but didn’t press it. We turned together to face Taliesin who was sitting at the desk with his fingers steepled—his favorite pose. I held his gaze to make sure he read the message of our solidarity. Peter might be drinking the Kool-Aid here, but he was still my best friend.

Taliesin’s lips twitched. Satisfied, I sat on the couch and Peter plopped down beside me.

“I am pleased Rhiannon has returned. I have used the time during her,”—the bard paused, eyes glittering—“
delay
to consult with an earth magician who has devoted his life to the cataloguing of the various types of magic currently present in this world. He agreed that Rhiannon’s connection between magic and color—both in her own perception, and in its manifestation to others—may be unique. I have also spoken with Morgana to try to determine Rhiannon’s true parentage. She confirmed that Viviane had never had a child of her own. She had thought her sister had simply taken in a foundling for her own inscrutable purposes.”

I was surprised. I’d thought Morgan Le Fay—or Morgana as he called her—was Taliesin’s enemy, and yet apparently he could pick up the phone and give her a ring any time he wanted to chat.

“What does it even matter? Whoever my real parents were, they obviously didn’t want me.”

Taliesin shook his head. “It matters a great deal. No Greylander or earth magician would give up their child willingly. Children of magic are precious.”

“So what happened then?”

“I do not know, but it is a great and worrisome mystery that you should end up being cared for by Viviane. She was known to have long ago put aside any real interest in the human world.  You are the second child I have encountered with unknown magic parentage.” He gestured at Tynan who looked down so the sweep of his hair hid his face. “I do not believe in coincidences.”

The mauve swirling through me was speckled with other, darker colors, but I shrugged. “I don’t understand why any of this is important.”

It was Daley who answered and his voice was angry again. “You don’t understand because there are things no one here has told you yet.” Surprisingly, it wasn’t me he was mad at; he was glaring at his father. Taliesin nodded for him to continue. “About time,” Daley muttered before turning back to me. “You might have destroyed that Cŵn Annwn. At the very least, you changed it. I could feel the power leave it like an electric charge in the atmosphere before it dissipated. You shouldn’t have been able to do that to a hound of Avalon.” Sparks of static electricity were flying from Daley’s hair. Since no one else seemed worried he might set the house on fire, I wondered if they could see the manifestation of his power the way I did. “The Cŵn Annwn were created from mortal dogs to serve Cernunnos. If one falls, his power revives it; their power is his power.” He paused for a moment to let that sink in. “There’s no precedent for what you did except in the tales of the very darkest of creatures.”

I swallowed hard. “What creatures?”

It was Taliesin who answered. “I have never encountered one outside of myth, but the Leannan Sidhe were said to have the ability to steal the life force out of a man, leaving only an empty shell behind. What you did could be described in a similar way. I think you can understand why this might give us cause for concern.”

My head began to pound. “What do you want me to do?”

“Can you show me how your ability manifests itself?”

“I don’t know. I’ve always seen my colors when my emotions were strong. I thought that’s all it was—some kind of weird synesthesia. Maybe since my colors tell me something about myself, they can also tell me things about other people, like their abilities. I don’t know how I made a color actually appear.”

“Perhaps your power is strong enough to create a reality out of your perception. Or perhaps your special ability is the power to make corporeal some essential nature of magic we have not understood till now. You will never know unless you try, Rhiannon.”

“OK.” I stood and closed my eyes. Faint traces of the indigo binding still lingering in the house distracted me—it was like looking through glasses smeared with oil. I opened my eyes in frustration. “I can’t.”

Daley had crossed the room to stand beside me. “Boudica said you grabbed her and I saw you touch the Cŵn Annwn.” I nodded and he took my hand. “Try again, Rhiannon.”

His use of my full name did strange things to my insides and when I closed my eyes again, I saw streaks of hot pink shooting through the indigo. The outline of his form appeared in my mind, lined in blades of cyan and orange lightning. I jumped as electricity passed between our entwined fingers.

“What do you see?” he asked.

“I see you.”

A pause. “What do I look like?”

I answered without hesitation. “Lightning. Cyan light and orange flame so bright it’s almost colorless. And a stormy sky—charcoal and blue lined with silver.”

After a moment of silence, Taliesin spoke. “Can you touch what you see?”

I heard the hiss of Daley’s indrawn breath and white fear shivered across my vision of him. “What if I hurt Daley?”

The bard’s voice was cold. “You did not hurt Boudica.” Either Boudica didn’t know what I’d done to her, or hadn’t admitted to it.

“You can do it.” Peter’s voice was closer; he stood beside me now and I could see the bright green thread connecting us. Trust and confidence seemed to flow through it.

“I’ll try.” I tightened my grip on Daley’s hand and lifted it in front of my closed eyes. In my mind, lightning danced over our fingers and around a small ring of light on my wrist.

The wheel charm.

The light flared and my interior vision was blinded as my wrist seemed to catch fire. I tore my hand out of Daley’s, but I could feel some of his power come with it. There was a moment of resistance and a strange aqua iridescence swirled around me, but then Daley’s power was mine. Opening my eyes, I gasped for breath and then froze.

A ball of lightning lay in my palm.

The wheel charm no longer burned where it was hidden beneath my sleeve, but the lightning I held was almost too hot to endure.

Taliesin frowned. “An illusion?”

Daley leaned down to touch the power in my hand with a cautious finger and then straightened and backed away. “It’s real,” he gasped. “She took a part of me.”

I stepped towards him and held out my hand. “Take it! Take it back!”

He recoiled from me. “What did you do?”

Taliesin stood and put a hand on Daley’s shoulder. “What did it feel like, my son?”

“Like she was clutching at my soul!”

“Be calm. How much did she take? Will you be all right?”

Daley took a shuddering breath and then seemed to get himself under control. “Not much. I’ll be fine.” There was no expression in his voice.

I had to say something. “Daley, I’m so sorry.”

Taliesin interrupted, “No need to apologize, Miss Lynne.” He returned his attention to Daley. “Could you have stopped Rhiannon if she had tried to take more?”

Daley’s face was now a calm mask. “Maybe. I’m not sure.”

“Take it back,” I begged again.

“I don’t know how.” Daley turned away.

Crimson rage smeared across my vision. Putting all the force I could find behind it, I threw the ball of lightning at the ground. There was a crack of thunder, and then the acrid smell of wool burning. We all stared silently at the black hole in the Persian carpet. Peter stepped on a small tongue of flame to extinguish it.

Miko cleared her throat. “Well, not to say that wasn’t interesting, but I think we should try the harp before jumping to any conclusions. The leanan sidhe left gifts of creativity for what they took, but I don’t see Daley rushing off to write a poem.” The fairy pulled the harp out of the bag. “Binnorie’s been difficult lately, but she agreed to let all of you see and hear her. Just let me talk to her for a second.” I didn’t like how she called the harp by the drowned girl’s name.

The minutes stretched on as Miko whispered to the harp. I was getting restless by the time she stopped in frustration.

“She’s not listening to me . . .”

 

CHILD OF BLOOD!

 

An awful screeching filled the room and Rowan and Boudica rushed in through the door to see what was going on. Pain shot through me as if something had been pulled tight until it broke. The harp continued to wail.

 

Have mercy on us Child of Blood, Eater of Bones and Life!

Have pity on us Destroyer of Worlds and Scouring Wind!

He has waited long and you cannot evade.

You will rise to meet him or choose to fall.

On this hangs death on the right or the left.

 

The voice quieted and took on a singsong quality.

 

One will go forward alone.

One will return to the beginning.

Choose rightly and blood will run like a river.

Choose wrongly and it will pour out like the sea.

But do not say you were not warned by me.

 

The harp fell silent.

Boudica crossed her arms over her chest and looked at me with raised eyebrows. “Well
that
was reassuring.”

 

 

 

Other books

Stephanie by Winston Graham
Binder Full of Women by Kathleen Miles
The Romeo Club by Rebekah L. Purdy
Chill of Fear by Hooper, Kay
The Sixth Wife by Suzannah Dunn
Blind to the Bones by Stephen Booth
Ghost in the Razor by Jonathan Moeller
Of Merchants & Heros by Paul Waters
Blood Ambush by Sheila Johnson