Page 21 of A Dance of Flame and Shadow (Embers of Destiny #1)

Chapter Twenty

D azed and disoriented, I slowly blinked through the lingering grogginess. I lay in a dimly lit room, slowly becoming more aware of my surroundings as the sleep fog lifted and consciousness fully returned to me. The room was still, with only the noise from a small fire crackling in the corner, casting flickering shadows across the walls and the thick woollen blanket over my body. The sound created a gentle rhythm that echoed the chaos in my mind.

A round wooden table in the centre of the room was covered in a faded green cloth, and upon it sat a small cauldron and a collection of weathered books. The walls were lined with jars and bottles, both large and small, each carefully labelled with handwritten descriptions of their contents. Moments of our arrival flashed back in snippets, and though my recollections were blurred and scattered, I recalled a small hut surrounded by wood and an old, weathered door hanging from its hinges. I remembered Silas pounding his fists on the small hut, begging for help.

The sheets clung to me with a blend of sweat and the residue from what had taken place the night before. A vivid flashback of the immortous returned to me, hovering over my body. I swallowed, wincing. My throat felt dry and swollen as I traced the bandages wrapped around my wounds—the price I paid for survival. Faint recollections of the immortous surged through my mind—their moans as they yearned for my blood. In the quiet aftermath, the room seemed to hold its breath. A soft groan escaped my lips as I attempted to sit up, every movement accompanied by a twinge of soreness. I tried to prop my head up, but a harsh throbbing pain festered in my temples. I stifled a groan and sunk back into the pillow with a sigh before preparing to try again. The room’s stillness was interrupted by a creak of the floorboards.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” I looked up, startled. An elderly woman shuffled toward me. Her voice, though gentle, carried a note of warning as she approached, holding a glass cup in her hand.

“I’m sorry, I did not realise?—”

“Drink,” she urged, presenting the cup to my lips. I regarded her warily.

“Come now. I’ve not gone through all the effort of saving you, only to kill you with poisoned water! Drink!” she insisted. When I attempted to take the cup from her, she swatted my hand away, fixing me with a scrutinising gaze. “Small sips, girl. I don’t need you to be sick all over the floor again, especially after he just finished cleaning the last time,” she said with a wink and a half-smile. Behind it, exhaustion filled her eyes, mirrored in the wrinkles and fine lines of her face. I knew she was referring to Ronan.

There was something unusual about her as she placed the cup on the table beside me, with her long, braided grey hair trailing down her shoulder. She was human, yes, but that wasn’t all. She gently propped me up and placed an additional pillow behind my back. I winced at the pressure from the sutures.

“What is your name?” I asked, ensuring she detected the gratitude in my voice.

“Catalina,” she replied. In the subdued lighting, I glimpsed her cloudy eyes. At first glance, Catalina seemed old, yet her appearance held a surprising contradiction. Her wrinkles weren’t as deep as I initially thought, and her slow movements didn’t necessarily signal old age. I wondered if she was as ancient as she appeared or if time told a different story.

“Thank you, Catalina, for saving my life. I don’t know how to repay you. I have all but the clothes on my back, and now…” My words trailed off as I glanced at my bare arms and chest. A sudden realisation dawned on me. She must have stripped me down to attend to my injuries. “And now, well, I don’t even have that.”

Catalina’s words cut through the air with a sense of finality. “Your debt has been paid,” she asserted, her gaze unwavering.

Everything here came with a price; it was one of the first things Brennan warned me about when I arrived in Faerie. Then, I realised—I hadn’t agreed to any bargain.

“Ronan?” I gasped. “No!” How could he be so reckless? Another binding oath, all for the sake of my life. It felt like too much, another debt for him to carry, another piece of Ronan’s soul sacrificed. I couldn’t help but wonder which part of him now bore the burden of this cost, and my heart ached at the thought.

“Indeed. It seems he is willing to do anything for you. He even offered me his life in return for yours.” She raised her voice and drew closer once again, gently patting my leg to provide reassurance.

“But don’t you worry,” she continued. “I’m not that kind of enchantress.” I studied her closely. Enchantress . “Don’t look so worried; I have no intention of fattening you up and making you my breakfast, if that’s what’s troubling you.” She lifted her chin and studied my face. “Those were the stories you were told, am I correct?” She paused for my response. I couldn’t deny it. I recalled at least five bedtime tales that painted a picture of malevolent old witches who preyed on unsuspecting humans, their houses in the heart of the forests.

She applied ointment to her finger and gently touched my forehead. I coughed and turned my head at the strong aroma.

“Hush now. That will help with the scarring,” she said. Despite the initial shock of learning who she was, I didn’t feel in danger. Quite the opposite, in fact. I felt a sense of ease envelop me while in this witch’s presence.

“Where is he?” My voice came out raspier and softer than intended.

“Over there.” She gestured to the fireplace, and beside it, Ronan sat in an armchair, his head slumped to one side. A book was open in his hands, yet his face lolled down. I hadn’t noticed him when I woke up. I released a breath I hadn’t realised I’d been holding, comforted by the knowledge of his presence. He was here, and he was safe. I observed the peacefulness of his sleeping form. The rhythmic rise and fall of his chest had a soothing effect on me, too, and as his eyelashes delicately brushed his cheekbones, I desired to reach out and touch him, feeling the warmth of his skin on mine.

A whistling came from the stovetop, and I cursed the noise, silently hoping it would not wake him. Even asleep, exhaustion etched the beautiful faerie’s features. It was like he had spent all his life preparing and fighting for now. An overwhelming pull drew me to him, and I suddenly yearned to free him from every last worry and place them on my shoulders instead.

“That young man has not left your side,” Catalina said, retrieving the steaming kettle. She poured hot water into a glass bowl before dipping a cloth into it. When she wrung it in her hands, I inhaled the sudden scent of lemon and eucalyptus. It calmed my racing heart. “I told him to leave many times, but he wouldn’t listen. So stubborn! The poor thing hasn’t slept in days.”

“Days?” I asked in disbelief.

She nodded. “Yes, it’s been three days since you stumbled in here, bleeding all over the place. To be frank, I didn’t think you’d pull through, but you’re a fighter, girl. I’ll give you that.”

“I need to leave,” I said. I tried to push myself up on trembling hands, digging my fingers into the bedding for support. Catalina quickly moved over to me.

“You need to rest!” she insisted.

“We’ve been here too long. I need to get to my brother!”

“You won’t be any good to him half-dead. You need to recover and regain your strength. Lay down!” she insisted. I took in her words and reluctantly steadied my breath. I did as she said, feeling the full weight of my exhaustion settle over me as she helped me back down.

“I’m sorry,” I said. She headed back to the table, humming a gentle tune. The soothing melody, combined with the calming aromas, gradually eased my tension.

Lost in my thoughts, I lowered my head and picked at the lingering traces of blood and dirt beneath my fingernails.

“I sensed…” I hesitated, forcing myself to voice the words. “I sensed death.”

She nodded.

“When the fae brought you to me, you were teetering on the brink of life’s final stages. The creature you encountered in the enchanted wood had pierced your skin, and the poison had already made its way through your body. Your healing abilities were not quick enough. Your skin was cold to the touch, and you were barely breathing. My abilities could not help you; you were too far gone.” She glanced at Ronan and lifted her eyebrows. “However, the instant he arrived…” She paused, as if grappling with a way to explain what she had witnessed. “Your healing sped up, and I was able to step in. It seems that when he is close to you, you can tap into his power somehow, subconsciously. I have never witnessed anything like that before.”

I cast a sidelong glance at Ronan. He had said something I knew was significant, yet it danced on the fringes of my memory like a whisper. Try as I might, I couldn’t grasp the essence of his revelation. My mind raced. “I’m not losing her, not after I have just found her.” Ronan’s declaration echoed, and I instinctively reached for my head as though I could grasp his words.

“On the other hand, your magical reserves will require some time to fully replenish.”

“What has he promised you in return for saving my life?” I whispered. The question hung in the air, and I waited, anticipating her response. She returned the ointment to the table as she headed back into the kitchen. She leaned against the counter, setting her walking cane aside.

“He has vowed to retrieve something for me—something your king has taken from me that does not belong to him.” Hatred laced her words, and for the first time in her presence, a sense of unease crept over me. I had no doubt that her fury and hatred were intended for another. Her eyes seemed to twinkle with light, and her movements were almost mystical. The wrinkles on her face now looked more like the intricate lines of a magic spell.

I gazed at Ronan again. Gods, even asleep, the stars and moon found a way to rest upon his skin. His cheekbones caught the soft light, highlighting his features. I frowned, noticing his tousled hair, likely from running his hands through it over the last three days. Over and over again. Even sleeping, his face did not shield his concern as I noted his furrowed brows betrayed a lingering worry that permeated his rest. I closed my eyes, focusing on the way I felt around him and the comfort that followed his company.

“You’re healing well; I have no doubt you will be fully recovered soon. Now, you’ve been awake for long enough. Get some more rest. I will be back in the morning to check on you.” She paused at the door, her slender fingers tracing the handle. When she turned back to me, I lifted myself off the bed to get a better view of her. “The course of destiny has been set for you, Jayne,” she said, her gaze shifting to Ronan and me with certainty. “Even if he chooses not to acknowledge it, there is no altering the path you have been assigned. Death will find you, Jayne, and I must stress there is no escaping it. Eventually, the time will come when he won’t be able to save you.”

She closed the door behind her.

I gazed up at the imposing wall that had dominated my thoughts every day since I arrived in Faerie—the formidable barrier dividing the Mortal Kingdom and Faerie. Its height exceeded my expectations, and I felt tiny in comparison. Inconsequential. Climbing vines adorned it, cascading and weaving in a captivating dance that enhanced its allure. Magic radiated from its surface, and the incantations that concealed the wall from human eyes brought a subtle hum that made my skin tingle.

“I didn’t get to see this on my way in. I was unconscious when Prince Ambrose brought me here,” I told them under my breath. I sensed Ronan watching me out of the corner of his eye. I extended my hand to rest it on the wall. I noticed a subtle shift as Silas and Henry moved to stop me. Yet when I glanced back at them, Ronan had raised his hand, signalling for them to wait. Puzzled, I turned my attention back to my hand. The bricks felt cool and ancient under my touch, and I felt the subtle pulse of magic. I traced my fingers along the surface as the vibrations whispered stories of a realm hidden behind the veil.

Ronan moved closer behind me, his eyes on the wall. He extended his hand and placed it over mine. “Do you hear it?” he whispered, his voice curious. I smiled and nodded. Together, we stood before the ancient divide, immersed in the echoes of magic and history woven with the essence of fae and human. In that moment, the barrier between the Mortal Kingdom and Faerie opened, and a bridge formed.

We stepped forward and immediately found ourselves on the opposite side. It was as if time had slowed and accelerated simultaneously, leaving me in a daze. I blinked slowly and inhaled the familiar scent of Sagaya straw and manure. I was back. I was home, and… I paused to look at the fae behind me. I looked down at my hand. “How was I able to?—”

“There you are!” Startled, I spun. My sentence hung in the air as the voice continued. “The king has been awaiting your arrival.”

Instinctively, I reached for my dagger as a group of king’s soldiers advanced toward us, swords drawn. Ronan positioned himself in front of me, shielding me from the approaching threat, while Henry and Silas flanked either side of me.

“Lord Commander,” Ronan said. “We had a minor setback but retrieved the girl.” Ronan’s voice was devoid of its usual softness, reverted to its cruel tone, befitting the king’s loyal puppet. The lord commander’s eyes met mine. He stood tall and imposing, a symbol of authority. He wore intricately designed armour adorned with the kingdom’s crest; each piece appeared meticulously polished, and he presented an image of unwavering loyalty. His helmet concealed most of his face, yet his sharp, stern jawline was visible beneath. My eyes fell upon the sword at his side, finely crafted and gleaming—a testament to his skill in combat. “Take us to him now.”

The lord commander nodded and turned toward the carriage. Ronan moved in its direction, and Silas nudged me gently, urging me to follow.

“In the back,” the commander ordered, motioning for me to enter the wagon. He reached for my arm, but Ronan stepped forward.

“Touch her, commander, and I will break every one of your fingers,” Ronan declared with a cold and dangerous edge to his voice. The threat hung heavily in the air, and the commander withdrew; he understood the consequences of overstepping. Silas and Henry remained by my side, and I noted the subtle smiles playing at the corners of their mouths as we advanced toward the carriage. The tension was palpable in the uneasy silence that followed. I caught a fleeting glimpse of Ronan’s features, his eyes momentarily soft, as if he wished for nothing more than to reach out and touch me. However, he quickly shifted gears. “Throw her in the back.” His order was sharp.

Henry grabbed me, guiding me up the steps into the back of the carriage. He helped me into the chair.

“Henry,” I gasped. Time was slipping away, leaving me breathless. He gently secured the chains around my wrists.

“Jayne,” he whispered, his tone solemn. “These restraints are crafted from Garvarian Iron. They will suppress your abilities, so you won’t be able to access your magic while wearing them.” He displayed the key before me, carefully tucking it into the pocket of my pants. “If something goes wrong, free yourself and get out of here.”

The journey to the castle was short, but I relished the crisp air, tilting my face towards the sky. I welcomed the sun’s distraction, trying not to consider that this could be the last time I felt the warmth upon my skin. Hues of pink and burnt orange peeked through the clouds, casting a warm glow upon the King’s Castle. While it haunted my nightmares, I had never seen it before. It didn’t seem so grand up close. The dreary grey stonework cast shadows upon the surrounding lands. My attention lingered on the long wooden bridge leading to the arched gates. On either side, two tall red flags adorned with the royal crest fluttered in the wind. I observed the guards stationed along the high walls of the towers, vigilantly watching.

As we rolled through the towering gates of the King’s Castle, the echoing hooves on the cobbled pathway intensified the gravity of the moment. Fear seized me, and I felt my hands tremble. The carriage halted, and a guard approached to escort me from its confines. Fear clung to me like a shadow as I stepped onto the cobblestone path, but despite my unease, I kept my head high. No matter what awaited me, I would do this for Jesse’s sake.

“Move along, girl.” The guard shoved me through the imposing castle gates, so the grandeur of the fortress surrounded me.

Ronan came up behind me, dismissing the guard with a disdainful sneer. “Excuse yourself, now,” he growled, taking his place. “Move, Jayne.” I fell into step behind him as he led me through the opulent corridors with urgency.

We arrived at the ornate doors to the king’s throne room. “Stay behind me, keep your head down, and don’t speak unless he addresses you first,” he instructed. I nodded rapidly, but a wave of nausea creeped up my throat. Gods, I wanted to cower. I wanted to run, but instead, I took a steadying breath and squared my shoulders, looking ahead. Ronan did the same, yet before we entered, he stepped back, pressing his body against mine. His closeness brought with it a calming effect, and he must have known it helped. In a matter of days, how had this man become my anchor? Still staring ahead, his hand fell beside him, and he brushed my leg with his finger. “I won’t let anything happen to you or your brother, do you hear me?”

I closed my eyes. I knew with every part of me that Ronan would do anything to protect me. I had known from the first time I met him, though I couldn’t comprehend why. I intertwined my hand with his.