Spellkeeper Read online

  One by one they turned away, and one by one their lights extinguished. Soon only the watchers remained awake.

  And Hael.

  Elan snored in her arms, but she could not quiet her mind. Over and over, until exhaustion finally claimed her, over and over she thought, what have I done?

  2

  Shan

  Happy Birthday, Shan!

  Daelis made you a cake. Sorry we had to eat it without you. It was kind of weird and he put too much salt in it, so you didn't miss much. Mom still can't believe you're nineteen. She won't even admit to herself that I'll be eighteen next week. She says it's not possible so many years have gone by in such a short time. Eighteen years seems like a long time to me, but maybe time feels faster as you get older.

  Love,

  Tessen

  SHAN?

  You haven't written in a couple weeks. Are you all right?

  -T

  SHAN, WHERE ARE YOU?

  -Tessen

  TESSEN,

  I'm fine. Been busy. Learning new spells is exhausting. Lumin's sulking. He misses his sister. I miss ours, too. And you. You all right?

  -S

  ONE BY ONE, BLACK LETTERS rose from within the journal pages. They floated just above the paper for a moment before settling into inked permanence.

  SHAN,

  I've been waiting on your reply for a month. Please check the book more often. Your handwriting is getting better. Maybe someday you'll tell me why it was such a mess. Yana has learned some great new spells and she hopes she gets to show them to you. Zinnia is starting to walk and talk. Her first word was “dragon”, and Mom and Daelis are trying to convince the Guardian not to bind her with one, but I have a feeling they're going to lose that argument. We'll have another sibling in about six months. No surprise there, right? I think they decided to ignore the circumstances and have more now because Mom's getting too old to wait. Or they screwed up again and that's just what they want everyone to think.

  -T

  SHAN TUCKED THE PEN between his middle finger and forefinger and held it over the page. With no feeling in his little fingers, only partial feeling in his ring fingers, and minimal ability to pinch with his thumb, it still took some concentration to write legibly. The muscles had already wasted away to the point that he no longer recognized his own hands. He supposed they matched the rest of his body—mutilated into something wholly unfamiliar.

  Severed ulnar nerves were his punishment for traveling a path he had not chosen to walk, but had instead been dragged upon. High King Nylian Lightborn himself had opened his elbows to snip the nerves, just moments after he clipped the wing tendons of Shan's dragon. Lumin would never fly and Shan's paralyzed hands would never be able to perform the complicated, physically-dependent spells that would allow him to escape from the High King's servitude. He knew the spells, but knowledge was nothing but a scourge as long as his hands were broken and his body was bound to Anthora by a shackle that only the High King could unlock.

  T-

  And you? How are you?

  -S

  I'M FINE. I'M LEARNING a lot, too. Not spells, obviously, but more about my dragonbind and combat. Some of the old injuries still ache, especially when it rains or I do too much upper body work, but it's nothing I can't handle. They've probably healed as much as they're going to. Are you sure you're okay?

  -T

  T-

  I'm fine. Reassure Mom of that for me, will you? I'll try to write more often. I had a minor hand injury, but it's getting better now. Happy birthday, by the way. I know it was a couple weeks ago, but I lost track of time. I love you, little brother. Keep being extraordinary. I'll try to write more often, but try not to worry about me if I forget. I'm fine.

  -S

  “WHY DO YOU LIE TO HIM?”

  Shan didn't realize Marita was looking over his shoulder until she spoke. She slid onto the bed next to him, then slowly rolled onto her side and bent her knees toward her chest. Her jaw was tense and dark circles ringed her eyes.

  He closed the journal and set it on the nightstand before lying down to face her. He kissed her lips, then ran his fingers through her auburn waves. “He's more in tune with other people's emotions than with his own. You know him well enough to know he'd try to come back here if he found out what's really going on. I can't crush him with my problems.”

  Marita caught Shan's left hand and held it to the light. Intricate scars marred his skin. Five lines ran from just under the nail beds to collect into a sunwise spiral on the back of his hand. “This healed nicely. His work on you is much better than Ranalae's was.”

  “He's taking his time and letting me heal between spells. She was rushing, trying to complete the job as quickly as possible, and that's why I needed to be revived. Nylian's mutilation still hurts, but it's not going to kill me.”

  “He carved another spell into you, didn't he?” Marita asked. Her fingers danced along the three parallel scars on Shan's right cheek, then skipped across his nose to trace the identical scars on the left. “Where this time? I don't want to hurt you.”

  “Back of the neck. Tattooed, not cut. How long was I gone this time?” Shan's neck ached, but it was tolerable. He preferred the tattooed spells to the scarred ones. They healed faster and burned less.

  “Three days.”

  “I don't remember any of those.” Shan glanced toward the end of the bed, where Lumin slept in a twisted ball of golden scales. He wouldn't be able to sleep on the bed much longer. Fully stretched out, the juvenile solar dragon was now as long as Shan was tall. “Are you all right? You look tired and uncomfortable.”

  “I am.” Marita closed her green eyes and winced.

  “Why?”

  She kept her hand on his face as she shifted closer to him. “You're in pain and need time to recover. I'm not going to burden you with it right now.”

  “I'm not the only one in pain,” Shan said. He kissed her hand, then her lips. “My pain is chronic and inevitable. Yours isn't. Tell me.”

  Marita opened her eyes, releasing a stream of tears upon her olive-skinned cheeks. “I . . . I know you didn't want to have children, not while trapped in Anthora and maybe not ever. I didn't either, not yet, but that didn't mean I . . . I...” Her trembling voice faded into silence.

  Shan's heart twisted and a sharp knife pierced his gut. She didn't have to say anything more for him to understand what she was trying to tell him. He stroked her flushing cheek as a sob shook her body. He touched his forehead to hers and embraced her. “When?”

  “Two days ago,” Marita whispered. “Three months . . . I thought I was safe to be hopeful, but then the bleeding started, and the pain. Never felt anything like it, the end of a life that hadn't even begun, the extinguished flame of a future we'd created together. I know you didn't want this baby, not really, but I did.”

  What could he say to that? She was right. He'd never wanted to have children and he was irate when the High King insisted that he produce an heir or risk having his marriage annulled and Marita sent back to Jadeshire. Still, that didn't mean he had wanted her to miscarry. “I wanted it because you did. I loved it because it was ours. I . . . I'm so sorry I wasn't here for you. You shouldn't have had to go through this alone.”

  “Not as if you had a choice. He takes you away as he pleases.” Marita shifted forward so her chest was pressed against Shan's. Her warmth spread through him, accompanied by the unsteady rhythm of her heart. “I wasn't alone. Astrea was with me. She's lost two or three babies herself, so she understands.”

  Astrea was Nylian's third wife, a shy, flame-haired highland elf who seemed fearful of Shan. She darted away whenever he was nearby, so he'd never spoken to her, but he was grateful she had decided to help Marita when he couldn't.

  Marita's fingers raked through Shan's hair to rest on the back of his head. “I asked her to see if she can convince Nylian to leave us alone on the heir issue for a while. I need . . . I need some time. This hurts so much in so many ways.”
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br />   Shan's tears dripped onto her face as he kissed her brow. He couldn't feel her physical pain, but her emotional pain flowed through him like a raging river. Every exhale was a collision with a jagged rock, every inhale a gulp of foaming water. Nothing he could say would alleviate her pain or bring back the baby they'd lost. All he could do was hold her and feel her agony as his own.

  “I love you,” he whispered, kissing her forehead again. Shadows stirred upon the walls. Not now, you fools. There is a hollow pit in my soul, but I don't want it filled right now, especially not by you.

  “I know you do,” Marita whispered. Her grip on the back of Shan's head tightened. “And I love you. Stay with me as you can. I know you'll never leave me by your own accord, but he allows you few choices. I need you right now and I'll need you always. Stay with me, Shan.”

  He knew she didn't mean stay with her physically. He couldn't travel beyond the length of Nylian's minuscule leash. She was afraid of the same thing he was, afraid he'd lose what fragile sanity he still possessed and the real Shan Goldtree would be lost to the darkness. “I'll try. You know I'm fighting for you.”

  “No, not me. Fight for you. If someday you find that you're all you have left, even if it's after your task is complete, promise me that you'll find something in yourself worth fighting for.”

  “I'll try,” he murmured.

  They held each other in silence as daylight died and the fire smoldered to ash. Keep fighting, keep fighting, always keep fighting, but what is there within me worth saving? Shan thought as a chilled draft replaced the evening warmth. Maybe she'll tell me someday. I hope she will.

  LUMIN STOOD ON HIS hind legs and peered out the window. His long tail swished, then slapped the floor. The luminous bulb on its end bounced, came to rest, then rose to smack the floor again. He stretched his neck so he could look down on the Anthora Valley from a slightly higher angle, then dropped to all fours. He walked to the next window and repeated the sequence.

  “He's restless,” Marita said from her armchair. She raised her arm, unraveling another row from the unfinished knit blanket on her lap. A tangle of pale green yarn collected on the floor next to the chair.

  Shan tried not to look at the yarn. Too many things were becoming unmade, too many possibilities extinguished. He paced several times behind Marita's chair, then stood at the window next to Lumin. His fingers traced the black and blue spirals on the dragon's golden shoulder. “We both are. You can go where you please, but we're not allowed outside without permission. Restless, listless, languid . . . and . . . and mangled. Even on the good days I'm sluggish. I don't think I can pick up a sword anymore, let alone swing one. It's not just my hands . . . he's making me weak on purpose. Making us weak. I don't see how keeping Lumin captive like this will do anything but stunt his growth and warp his mind. He can't run or hunt. He'll never fly. Ever.”

  “It's cruel.”

  Shan dropped to the floor and wrapped his arms around Lumin. The dragon coiled his neck to nuzzle the top of Shan's head, then returned to looking out the window. Shan closed his eyes and absorbed Lumin's heartbeat. It should have matched his own, but they were now out of sync. They had been for a while. Shan exhaled through his teeth and said, “I'm sorry. Both of you. I was always afraid of being locked in a crate, and I seem to have trapped you both with me. The cruelty is my own. I was afraid of facing the nightmare alone, so I held on too tightly and now you're part of it. I didn't want to hurt either of you, but I don't seem to be capable of fixing anything. You can leave if you like. I think you should. Take Lumin with you, but leave him behind when you reach the edge of Anthora. I'll set him free. I'll release him.”

  Bare feet shuffled, then Marita was on the floor, her hand on Shan's face. He kept his eyes closed as she kissed his lips. She was crying again and he couldn't bear to see it. Her pain was entirely his fault.

  “Shan?” Another gentle kiss, then her hand dropped to his knee. “Shan, the only way to release a dragonbind is death.”

  “I know. I'll give you enough time to get away from him, but not enough time for him to find his way back to me. Don't stay with him. He'll turn feral the moment I–”

  Marita grabbed his jaw between her thumb and forefinger. The third kiss she landed was not gentle. “No. I won't let you kill yourself. I know you want to. I know you've been thinking about it for a long time. I'm not going to leave you.”

  “I want to stop hurting you.”

  Her arms were around him, her tears hot on his cheek. “You're not hurting me. You never have and I know you never will. It was my choice to marry you and stay here.”

  “Why would you choose such a thing?” Shan asked. Lumin's tongue flicked his ear.

  “Because no one else wanted to let me choose my own path. You gave me a choice and I chose to be with you. I knew it meant I'd be spending the rest of my life with you, but I want that. I've wanted it since not long after we met.” She rested her chin in the hollow of his collarbone and squeezed him tighter. “I love you. Stay with me, Shan.”

  “You always say that,” he whispered, his voice choked. He didn't want to stay. Life meant more pain, more torture, more shadows, more hurting the people he loved. Death meant the same.

  “I don't want to lose you.” Marita stroked his hair, being careful not to touch the raw inking on the back of his neck. “You're always like this the day after he brings you back. You collapse into your pain and want to die. It's not your fault, any of it. Stay with me, now and always.”

  “I don't think I can.”

  “You can and you will.” Her voice was stern now, and her fingers threatened to yank his hair. “This won't last forever and you are strong enough to live through it. I know you didn't sleep again last night. Will you let me help you sleep now?”

  “It's mid-afternoon.”

  Lumin slipped from Shan's arms and trotted away. Shan opened his eyes to watch the dragon jump onto the bed. The gold scales of his withered wings caught a beam of sunlight as he curled into a tight ball and rested his chin on his tail. He blinked his green eyes twice and trilled a low, “Guhrrrrh.”

  “See, he agrees,” Marita said. Her fingertips brushed over Shan's cheek. “Trust me, will you? I'll give you enough that you sleep until tomorrow morning, and you'll wake up feeling more like yourself.”

  “I trust you. It's myself I don't trust.” Shan unraveled himself from her arms and stood. He held out his hand, but she didn't take it. She knew he no longer had the arm strength to help her stand.

  Marita pressed her palms into the floor and slowly stood. She led him to the bed and sat on the edge as he arranged the pillows and laid down next to Lumin. The dragon's tail lifted and curled around Shan's hip.

  Marita reached into the nightstand drawer and pulled out a small lockbox. She learned after the first time Nylian took him that he would intentionally overdose if given the chance. The vial and its contents remained locked away after that first mistake. Shan kept hoping that Marita would forget to return the lock to the box, but she was too careful.

  She placed a single drop on her finger and pressed it to Shan's lips. He welcomed the peppery flavor of the poppy draught. If he couldn't die, he might as well sleep through as much of his cursed life as possible.

  “I don't want to be this way anymore,” he said as a chill trickled down his throat and spread through his core.

  “Just sleep, my love.” Marita squeezed a second drop onto her finger before locking away the draught. She held it to her tongue, then laid behind Shan and embraced him. Her warmth combined with Lumin's chased away his chill and he allowed the shadows to claim him.

  3

  Benny

  Plip. Plip. Plip.

  The roof leaked when it rained. Muddy water seeped through the cracks in the floor. It slowly evaporated, leaving behind sludge and condensation, reinvigorating the moss on the mortar. The creeping moss was the only green Benny had seen in years.

  She slowly sat upright on her rickety cot. She pressed her
back against the cold brick wall and drew her knees toward her chest. A pile of books sat on the stool by the cell door, read and reread until their page edges were brittle and transparent. She could recite most of the words within from memory.

  Plip. Plip. Plip.

  Benny shook her fingers through her hair. Her unkempt cocoa brown curls took on a life of their own when it rained like this. Her fingertips came to rest on the points of her ears. If not for those ears, she would almost pass as human. She was certainly tall enough, and even undernourished she was more-than heavy enough. Only the ears and the sharp angles of her jaw and cheekbones gave her away as half-elven.

  Thunder rattled the rickety cot frame. Benny clicked her tongue against her teeth and glanced again at the books. Into the Night sat on top of the stack. She didn't remember leaving it there. She smiled to herself and whispered a passage from Chapter 5.

  “Come to me, my darkness, my shadow. Come claim me, I'll draw you to light. Don't threaten, I'll devour you before you know the pleasure. Come find me and I'll show you how to dissolve fear with a touch, how to create hope from despair. We balance, you and I, the shadow and the sunlight. We breathe in the dawn and exhale the night. We create the–”

  “Oh, sard it all,” Benny growled. She scooped up the book and threw it against the opposite wall. The spine broke and several pages fluttered freely to the muddy floor.

  Plip. Plip. Plip.

  She closed her eyes and breathed in the steamy air. The book reminded her too much of her husband. Despair . . . Brother Despair. That was what Fathomless Mother and her followers had called him, Brother Despair. Benny preferred to know him as Radamar Nightshadow. Where are you, Radamar? Why have you left me here to languish?