Chapter 3 Declan
Istared out at the island landscape, my feet dangling over the edge of the cliff. Ayden’s shoulder pressed into mine. His thumb rubbed the back of my hand as he held it.
His warmth offered comfort and peace.
The last time I sat on that ledge, órla had been by my side, chiding me for my lack of progress in mastering the many facets of my magic. I smiled at the memory of her barbs, missing her perky voice more than I ever thought possible.
The island shone like a jewel.
Palm trees swayed in the wind.
The ocean crashed sapphire blue against white-gold shores.
Far below our mountain perch, villagers milled about on distant roads, hard at work, enjoying the day.
“The sunrise is incredible, isn’t it?” My mother’s voice startled me out of my musing.
Ayden’s hand squeezed mine as I turned. “This may be the most beautiful place in the world,” I replied.
“It really is,” Ayden added.
“Come back during storm season and say that.”
She leaned down and kissed the top of my head, then repeated the gesture with Ayden’s fiery locks.
I shot him a sideways glance, catching a smile creeping across his lips.
“You may find yourself thinking something entirely different when the gods of the sea begin their fights.”
“Gods of the sea? When did you get religious?”
The ocean was so lovely. I couldn’t picture it angry.
She snorted. “I am the Keeper of Magic. How could I not wonder at what hands guided our paths?”
Ayden lifted a brow but held his tongue when I shook my head. If my mother started walking a philosophical route, we might never get to eat.
As if her mother’s instinct had heard my thoughts, Kelsa spoke as she turned toward the cavern’s entrance. “I made breakfast if you are hungry. I know it is early, but I have seen both of you eat.”
“Hey!” I protested as Ayden and I stood. “We’re growing boys. We need to maintain—”
“Pshaw. Atikus raised you. That means you never stop eating. Come on.” She laughed and slapped my arm. Her light tone sobered as she said, “Besides, your journey calls.”
“How . . . ?” Ayden and I shared a baffled look. “How did you know we wanted to leave today? I was planning to talk to you this morning about it but hadn’t figured out how.”
“You will learn that a mother always knows, especially when it involves her baby leaving the nest.”
I snorted and looked into her twinkling eyes. “Baby?”
She reached up and cupped my cheek. “You will always be my baby boy, and don’t you forget it.”
Ayden elbowed me. His annoyingly handsome smirk was on full display as he mouthed, “Baby Dec.”
I resisted the urge to shove him into one of the stone pillars.
Kelsa rolled her eyes, her smile brighter than the sunrise. “I still want to hear more about what happened with Saltstone and Irina. I did not press when you first arrived, but it is important I know everything before you leave.”
“Not the best breakfast conversation, but it’ll have to do. After you.”
As we wound our way through the ancient tunnels, Ayden’s hand rubbed my neck.
His touch was never far when we were near, and I relished each moment.
How anyone could love another so deeply, so completely, was baffling to me.
And yet, a single glance from Ayden Byrne could reduce me to a gibbering idiot.
By the lazy arc of the island’s sun, we’d spent a few months together on Rea Utu. Battles and wars felt so distant. All that mattered was being together, feeling Ayden close, getting to know my mother and becoming a family.
I had a family now.
The Mages raised me. Atikus was like a father. And Keelan . . .
Kee had always been like part of my soul.
But now, I had a mother who loved me, a mother who wanted me with her, who cared what I thought and felt. I had never known that kind of love. Not from anyone.
And Ayden . . . he was something altogether different.
I could not begin to reckon how long we had known each other.
Mainland time and island time moved so differently that the present and past seemed muddled in my mind.
However long it had been, each day felt new and fresh, like the beginning of a new eternity with a man who made me want to savor life with every breath.
How could anyone affect me so, wriggle their way beneath my skin and live within my heart and soul?
How could anyone fuel my joy and inhabit my dreams?
I found I no longer cared for answers to those questions.
Ayden did all of those things, and I was a better man for it.
I was better because of him.
Kelsa bristled when I first arrived with him by my side—not because I was with a man, but because I had violated the island’s sacred rules.
The security of the Well had always been sacrosanct. It always would be.
Still, my heart ached for Kelsa to know him. For her to know me, she had to know him, as well. Ayden was part of me now, the better part of all that I was. So I risked her ire and walked him up the Path.
Ayden would never remember the place.
He would lose all recollection of my mother.
There was no reprieve from that sentence.
While I understood and agreed it was for the best, a larger part of me was saddened at what he would lose when we returned to the mainland. Seeing him interact with my mother, seeing her wrap her arms around him so freely, lightened my heart in ways I never hoped possible.
She was my home.
Now he was, too.
The smell of bacon greeted us before we reached the entrance to the kitchen.
My stomach growled.
Piles of food awaited us: eggs, bacon, steaming scones, and a small bowl of assorted fruit.
“Did you make enough for the village? Spirits,” Ayden said. I ignored him and grabbed a plate.
Kelsa beamed. “I can’t have my baby going off hungry, can I?”
Ayden laughed and mussed my already ruffled hair.
I ignored them both and filled my plate while Kelsa poured piping tea into mugs and set the kettle back on the stove. Long moments passed in silence as we enjoyed our meal, but Kelsa couldn’t keep her curiosity at bay for long.
“Start from the beginning. You said Grove’s Pass was destroyed by the time you returned, but I could tell you saw more than you were willing to discuss.”
I took a sip of tea, set my fork against the edge of my plate, then stared into the grain of the table’s wood for a long moment. Those were memories I had hoped to never relive, but Kelsa needed to know.
The Keeper needed to know what transpired.
“I grew up in the guild in Saltstone, but Grove’s Pass had become my home. There were over a thousand rangers who lived, worked, or passed through the town. Most of us lived in the headquarters, a massive complex larger than many small villages. The place always amazed me.
Mages helped build much of it, you know?”
My voice descended to a whisper. “They were my brothers and sisters, my family. And the people of Grove’s Pass . . .”
Kelsa set her own fork down and cradled her mug in both hands as she listened, brows creased in worry.
“The innkeeper was like another uncle, one of a hundred I see in my mind.
When I first joined the Rangers, I was young and stupid, getting into every kind of trouble you could imagine.
I spent more time at his bar than I did in the HQ.
He helped a lost boy find some measure of peace and focus.
I wouldn’t be alive if he hadn’t taken me under his wing.
“I could say the same about a dozen of the Rangers.” My voice broke. “They were all dead when I got there. And the people . . . Who kills children in their mothers’ arms? Babies and . . . Who does that?”
Kelsa reached across the table and placed her hand on mine. “Show me.”
My heart seized at the thought of bringing such memories to life, but I nodded, closed my eyes, and called forth my Light. Ayden’s calloused hand gripped mine as images flickered.
A reflection of Grove’s Pass solidified above the table.
I pick my way through the town’s snow-covered streets. Hands reach up through the snow. Broken bodies, too many to count, lay beneath.
Burned-out buildings, charred black, are all that remain of the Rangers’ home.
The snow blows back.
I see one cadet, then another.
Men and women—more boys and girls than men and women—stare up through unseeing eyes.
Wetness tickles my cheek, but I press onward, stepping over one body, then another, until reaching the burned-out tavern.
A mound of rubble two stories tall rises before me. Only a door stands. It mocks us.
Captain Whitman lies interred, forever a Ranger, forever at his command.
He is one of many who will never rise again.
My skill with Illusion had grown since my first time on the island. I could almost smell the death in my images.
My illusion shifted to Saltstone.
The proud city’s growing fortifications rise before us, defenses erected prior to the Kingdom’s troops’ arrival. People, horses, and carts bustle through the crowded streets in preparation. Soldiers are everywhere.
Then we are surrounded.
The sounds of war boom throughout the night.
Tens of thousands of men, many on horseback, watch as stone after stone are hurled against the invisible barrier of my magical shield. The view through órla’s eyes is dizzying, but the inevitable outcome of the scene below is clear.
The city cannot stand.
I could only recall snippets of the battle between Irina and Arch Mage Quin, as I was tumbling down the tower stairs when most of it occurred, but I was in position to remember the blinding light of Irina’s fires as she blasted the city’s dwellings, killing indiscriminately,
exacting a millennium’s worth of pent-up rage on innocent people.
There is a grinding of stone against stone as the tower cracks and begins to break apart.
Arch Mage Quin falls, then Isabel’s body crumples.
The Phoenix streaks down and wrenches Irina’s crown from her head.
Kelsa clapped a hand over her mouth and emitted a gasp.
The Empress’s spirit evaporates into the sky, and the Phoenix sails out over the Silver Mountains, trailing plumes of magical smoke from her massive chest.
Then the Phoenix, many leagues away, hurtles from the sky into the Kingdom’s army. Brilliant light flares across the land as magic’s guardian sacrifices herself a second time so innocents might live.
The images vanished.