Tortured: An Epic Dragons and Immortals Romantic Fantasy (Fallen Emrys Chronicles Book 3)

Chapter 12

The ship rocks in a storm that caught up with us just after leaving port. I’ve been on small ships on our great Dillion Sea at home, but nothing that rolls over waves like this.

I lie sick on a lower bunk. The crew laughs whenever they stagger by. I keep no food down. Mercifully, sleep pulls me under, but I dream I am rocking even then.

“Kenrik.” Someone nudges my shoulder. I grunt and crack an eyelid open. A blur of light in the shape of a human lies on the ground, with her head nestled on the bunk next to mine. “Kenrik,” she moans again.

“Niawen?” I croak. Another dream. I am dreaming of her more and more. I summon the strength to shift my head so I can see into her face. Her pale skin is ashen. Her eyes have dark circles under them. “You look how I feel.”

“That’s because I feel how you feel.” Her fingers brush my forehead.

I close my eyes and grunt a contented sigh. I can feel her. I must be delirious.

“You’ve been tossed in a storm for three days, puking the whole time”—she yanks on a strand of my hair—“as have I. I just got over my morning sickness, and then you give me this.”

“Your morning sickness. I forgot you were . . .”

“Carrying his child.” Niawen moans and tucks her face into the blankets. After a minute, she lifts her head. “You have to focus your light. Use it to overcome this seasickness because somehow I’m feeling it. Please, Kenrik.”

“The High Emrys said we were connected.” I grin. “Because I kissed you.”

Niawen shuts her eyes and exhales. “Of course. I’m so sorry Kenrik.”

“Sokay. I don’t mind.” I find a lock of her hair and smooth it between my fingers. “You’re not really here, are you?”

“No, I’m not.”

“So this is a dream.”

“More or less,” she says. “It’s real to your mind.”

“But you’re safe?”

“I am.”

“Don’t tell me where.” I touch her chin with my knuckles.

“I won’t.”

“I love you, Niawen. I’ll try to stop feeling sick.”

“Thank you. I love you too, Kenrik.”

I pull her chin forward and touch my nose to hers, and then, unable to stop myself, I brush my lips against hers. Such a featherlight sensation, but my mouth falls open, and I sigh.

When I open my eyes, Niawen is gone.

And my heart breaks.

Again. Over and over again.

I haven’t taken a lot of time to study what Niawen’s light is doing to my body. All the knowledge I have is that somehow it honed me into a warrior with heightened senses.

A warrior that’s making my beloved seasick.

Niawen says I have to focus my light. But we’ve gone through this. The light is fused to me, not a ball in my heart-center that can be harnessed.

Yet it still healed me as it had Niawen.

I turn my mind inward, trying to see this light fused to my cells. I have a sense that I can. If the light is everywhere, even in my mind, then surely I can use it. Isn’t my brain looking even now with its enhanced might into my other body cells?

They glow. I can see how the light makes my cells glow. On whatever level they function, the light wraps around each tiny part and boasts its purpose.

So where is the part that controls how I perceive motion? I have to get a handle on things for Niawen’s sake.

Something in my brain tells me I am receiving conflicting impressions about motion and my body’s position on the ship. The imbalance stems from my inner ear, eyes, skin, and muscles.

The whole thing as a unit is very complex.

I must find some sort of equilibrium.

I don’t know if my body will obey my thoughts. But the more I think about it, the more I decide that everything should be in balance. Just because I can’t see the motion doesn’t mean my senses can’t compensate.

I make up my mind here. I pry myself out of bed and stand on shaking feet. I sway for a minute as I will my body to balance. As a solid breath fills my lungs, I take a step forward—on steady legs.

And then another step.

Yes! I emerge from the cabin to the deck. The men are worn and drenched. I have a strange sense that the storm will be over soon, but even so, I plow right in and get to work helping the men with the rigging.

I receive more than one astonished look. A few hours later, when the sun breaks through a gray cloud, the captain claps me on the back. “Job well done, son.”

I don’t look back from here. I work alongside the crew for the entire three-week journey to the land in the East.

The land I learn is called Morvith.

Now where have I heard that name before?

It’s my homeland, Caedryn sneers. Good luck there. I pray you never come across the empress.

After your assassins, I’m not afraid of much else.

Oh, you will be afraid of her.

I hiss and push Caedryn away. I hope that he didn’t catch my visit from Niawen.

As it is, I don’t get another one while I’m onboard.

For that, I am sorely disappointed.