Season of Glory (21 page)

I slipped my hand into his, and we resumed our hike up the trail. It wasn't long
before we knew that the Aravanders
were with us, edging nearer, so stealthy that
we could not yet see them. They were the perfect guardians for the Valley, able to
easily get close enough to discern enemy from friend.

“Take your ease, guardians!” Bellona yelled from fifty paces ahead. “We are the Ailith,
returning home. Bellona and Vidar here!”

“Killian and Tressa here, along with Chaza'el!” shouted Killian from behind them.

“Ronan and Andriana here!” Ronan called.

“Niero, Azarel, Kapriel, and our prisoner here!” Niero finished.

I frowned that he did not name Keallach and went so far as to call him a prisoner.
But it was probably for the best. Keallach was no favorite among the Aravanders,
particularly after their recent losses north of Pacifica. They might string him from
a tree or shoot him through with arrows before we had half a breath to intervene.
Thankfully, the dark of night would keep them from recognizing Kapriel's twin. It
was best to wait until morning to reveal him so we could address the issue with the
elders and the Community at large.

But by the time we reached the Citadel, I knew there would be no waiting until morning.

CHAPTER
23

RONAN

A
s soon as we got to the Citadel and I saw Dri safely to our room, I paced by the
window.
“Why
don't we each grab a sauna or shower and a change of clothes before dinner?”

She narrowed her eyes at me. “Ronan, where are you really going?”

“I just need to see to some things,” I mumbled, already turning toward the door,
working on concentrating on nothing but feelings of peace and tranquility, trying
to block her attempt to read me.

“See to
Keallach
, you mean,” she said, moving toward me. “Let me come with you.”

“No, Dri. I need to handle this alone. I want you to stay away from him. At least
until we decide what is going on. Let me do some fact-finding, all right? At least
for tonight. I promise I'll report everything I learn. And I promise not to harm
him. Yet.”

She put her hand on my chest and looked up into my eyes for a long moment. “All right,”
she said softly. “But please . . . don't hold anything back from me. I remain separate
for your sake, and to honor your request.”

“Thank you,” I said, my voice coming out a little strangled. I knew Dri didn't understand
why I was so angry and agitated with her, but she'd just have to wait to work things
out with me. There was a fairly large part of me that wanted to beat the truth from
Keallach's lips.

She tilted her head up, and I bent to give her a quick kiss. But it was clear to
both of us that my mind and heart were not focused on her.

I doubled back and fairly sprinted down the hall and through the tunnel, emerging
outside beside the boulders. I found them down below, Niero holding one of Keallach's
elbows, Killian holding the other, and facing four of the elders. Citadel guards
encircled them, all carrying torches. Four Aravander archers were at intervals too,
each with an arrow nocked. It made sense that he'd chosen Killian to assist him and
sent the others inside. He'd suffered the least when it came to Pacifica's
emperor
,
our
brother
. My mind practically spat out the names, and Niero's dark eyes shifted
to me for a moment.

“I still don't understand why you've brought him here, to our very door,” Cornelius
said, his voice tremulous.

“We had no choice,” Niero said. “He met us on the path at the mouth of the Valley.
We could either kill him, bring him along, or let him follow. We thought it best
if we kept an eye on him.”

“Father, I am here, begging for mercy,” Keallach said. “I know I do not deserve it
and—”

Cornelius lifted his age-spotted hand to stop him. He leaned close to his face. “Your
words mean nothing to us, serpent-eater.”

I think I took my first breath. Finally, someone was going to put a stop to this
madness and send him away.

The elder circled Keallach and his captors, slowly, his watery eyes never leaving
our adversary. When he had completed his circle, he clasped his hands, bowed his
head, and stood silent. The other elders did the same, understanding what he was
after. After a moment, he lifted his chin and looked to Niero. “What do you propose
we do with him, my son?”

“Leave him out here, secured and under guard,” Niero said. “I will stay too, on guard,
to make certain he doesn't use any of his gifting to make his way out.”

“You are immune to his sorcery?”

“It isn't sorcery—” Keallach began.

“Sethos has warped what was given to you by the Maker into something foul indeed,”
seethed the elder, getting nose to nose with him. “If that isn't sorcery, I know
not what is.”

“But that's why I'm here, Father,” Keallach returned, lifting his brows, suddenly
looking younger. “To seek your assistance. I want to be free of him—every bit of
him. I need your prayers, the Maker's cleansing. Healing. Can you not aid me in that
endeavor?”

His words brought Cornelius up short.

The old man lifted his chin and stared at Keallach, unblinking. He glanced to the
other elders, silently seeking input, but they too remained silent. “Bind him, hand
and foot, to the biggest tree about. Keep him under guard through the night. We shall
seek the Maker's guidance in this and make our determination as to what to do come
morn.”

Cornelius looked to Keallach, then to the Aravander leader on his left. “Summon your
people. Establish the series of new posts we discussed earlier. I don't want any
further surprises.”

The Aravander inclined his head, accepting the assignment, and turned on his heel,
slipping into the darkness of the forest.

“We are prepared for attack, come this night or any night this Hoarfrost, or next
Harvest, or the next. Tonight, we rest and seek the Maker's guidance,” Cornelius
repeated, and then he left the circle, the matter clearly settled for him for now.

The others followed him, leaving Keallach alone with me, Killian, Niero, eight Citadel
guards, and three Aravanders. Keallach lifted one brow. “Fourteen men to guard me?”

“We are aware of what you can do,” I said.

He eyed me. “Listen, Ronan. I made some mistakes with Andriana . . .”

It was the only opening I needed. I let out a growl and tackled him to the ground,
tearing his arms from Killian and Niero. I managed to punch him twice before my
brothers lifted me away from him. Two Citadel guards moved in to help Keallach back
to his feet. He sat up, wiping blood from the corner of his lip with the back of
his hand and staring at me. “I deserved that.”

“That and more,” I spat, trying to wrench away from Killian and Niero. But they held
firm.

Keallach got to his feet and stared at me. “So this hatred boils down to my feelings
for Andriana? Or something else?”

“There are many reasons that drive my hatred for you,” I ground out.

“But mostly it's about Dri,” he said gently. The Citadel guards began to pull him
around, heading toward the old grove of trees, but he struggled against them. “Please,
Niero. Ronan and I need to have this out.”

The guards paused, and Niero gave a wave of assent. “Release him,” he said. And at
the same time, he and Killian let go of me. Again, I didn't wait. I charged, driving
into Keallach, finding satisfaction in hearing his soft groan as my shoulder met
his belly. We
went to the ground, and again I pelted him across the mouth, and again,
until I saw his hands were raised on either side of his head in a position of surrender.
I paused, my fist hovering midair, panting as I fought to make out his words. “Mercy,
brother, mercy,” he was repeating. His teeth were ghoulish, stained red, and I hated
him—hated him with everything in me—but I couldn't continue to beat him if he didn't
come back at me.

I grimaced and groaned before grabbing hold of his shirt and lifting him to his feet.
Then I drove him back into the nearest tree, slamming him into it. His head whipped
back and forward, and his eyelids lowered, hooding the orbs so hauntingly like Kapriel's.
“What . . . is . . . your . . . game?” I grit out, my face almost upon his.

His eyes cleared, and he looked back to me. “There is no game, brother. It is as
I've said. I shall bring no further harm to you and yours. I only aim to help you.”

My fists twisted in the fabric of his shirt, and I lifted him to his toes.

“Ronan,” Niero said, warning in his tone. But I ignored him.

“Brother,” Keallach said, swallowing hard, struggling for air.

“Stop calling me that,” I cried, throwing him to one side.

He skidded through pine needles and cones and underbrush, took a deep breath, and
then lifted himself up and turned to sit, remaining down. He'd hit a rock or something.
There was a new gash on his cheek, streaming red blood, and for the first time I
felt a pang of regret.
But Andriana,
I reminded myself.
Think of all he did—and tried
to do—with Andriana!

“Think on the Maker's ways, Ronan,” Niero said. “Not on our own ways. Not on Keallach's
ways.”

“Stay out of my head, Niero,” I said.

I stared hard at Keallach. “Andriana is mine now. A bound bride. We shared our handfasting
vows on the first full moon of Hoarfrost.”

Keallach stilled, clearly stunned. “But you . . . you are not—”

“The elders gave us permission,” I said, knowing he was going to take issue with
the traditional age. “In order to honor what was in our hearts, as well as to protect
her from men like you who might choose to try and take advantage of an unclaimed
woman.”

His eyes shifted back and forth, measuring me, thinking. He swallowed hard. “It was
a wise choice.” He cocked his head. “And your full matrimonial vows are yet ahead
of you?”

I squinted, wondering if I'd misheard him or if there was a note of challenge in
his question.

“She is yours, brother,” Keallach quickly amended, again lifting hands of surrender
to me, as if surprised that I would take offense at the question. “I will not endeavor
to do anything to break you apart. I was merely curious.”

“Yes,” I said. “When we reach our second decade, we intend to exchange our full matrimonial
vows.”

He nodded, as if this was glad news. News he'd hoped for. “She loves you,” he said.
“She's always loved you. I am glad the elders blessed your binding.”

I put my hands on my hips, still panting from my exertion, and looked to the ground.
I had to admit that if I had just met this man today I would not be able to grant
him anything but favor, grace. Could it be? Could he truly be changed? Our brother,
restored? The elders had searched him and allowed him the night. So had our fellow
Ailith. He was right. What drove me was petty jealousy. Fury over boundaries that
I felt were mine to hold, and that had been breached. They were human feelings; base,
not holy. And I was called to serve a higher power than myself.

I turned partially away, rubbing my neck and closing my eyes, feeling the deep weariness
of the last weeks and months suddenly, as if someone had tossed me one of the nearby
boulders to bear.

A hand slipped over my shoulder, and I winced but remained where I was. Niero. “Isn't
that enough for one night,” he stated, more than asked. “Go and rest with Andriana.
We shall face this conundrum together, tomorrow.”

I eyed him. “You won't leave him? He has the power to—”

“I know, brother. Trust me,” he said. And I thought that out of everyone about us,
Niero could keep watch on the one I distrusted most.

I nodded, swallowed, and with one more glance at Keallach—beaten and bloody but looking
as peaceful as Kapriel—left the circle of light and climbed toward the Citadel.

His expression haunted me. Outwardly, he appeared as innocent as his brother. And
that called me to accept him as another of the Ailith . . . long away, now returned
home.

But something just wouldn't let me rest.

There wasn't anything specific that I could put my finger on. Only a subtle knowledge
that Keallach had somehow, in some way, just won.

CHAPTER
24

KEALLACH

I
watched the Knight fade away into the dark, knowing he doubted me, as did the others.
But
it
had all gone as well as I could've possibly hoped.

I was in. Or nearly in.

I had them thinking, wondering if my story could be true.

They were angry, but they'd wanted to believe it. Even my brother . . .

A pang of sorrow went through me. I hated that I was going to hurt Kapriel again,
especially since he hadn't immediately turned from me, as I had expected. But he
and the others of the Way threatened everything we had worked so long to build.

We'd seen enough from the hidden necklace cameras the defectors carried before they
were discovered. Learned enough from bits and pieces of their conversations when
the audio worked. Seen firsthand what could happen when a city like
Zanzibar fell.
The power among the people of the Way was exploding, and as Sethos put it, the only
way to stop them was to destroy them, from the outside in as well as from the inside
out.

And now I hovered, just on the edge of breaking inside.

It would be tricky, mastering my emotions so that Dri and Vidar continued to read
only what I wanted them to read from me. And to convince Dri of my desire to fully
embrace my Call as a Remnant, I had to open my heart fully to these lost brothers
and sisters that I knew still drew me from a different angle. As much as I endangered
them, they also threatened me, making me truly want to be one with them, forever.
I honestly did feel the Call. I did not have to lie when I apologized for ignoring
it for so long. It felt exquisitely right to be here, among them.