Chapter 14

Chapter 14: Áine

Her breaths come quick. Her body thrummed with energy, but for some reason, she felt drained. What had just happened? Beneath her, Cerin rasped for breath, his eyes lit with pain and shame. Mirror grief and shame pulsed through her chest.

“I loved her too,” he said hoarsely. What did he mean he loved her? 

“She was like a second mother to me. I… I never…” he choked. “I'm so sorry, Áine.”

The sound of her name from his lips brakes her stupor. The vision she had just seen slammed to the forefront of her mind. 

“What did you do?” The lingering feeling of a foreign presence pervaded her mind, like worms wriggling beneath her skin. 

“I…” he began but didn’t have time to finish, as Áine’s stomach rolled and she scrambled away to empty it.  As her stomach calmed her mind raced. At the feel of his hand on her shoulder, she jolted away spinning to face him.

“What did you do?!” she screamed. He had been in her mind, she knew it. She didn’t know how, but she did. And the memory she had just experienced had not been her own. Her skin crawled even as relief flooded her nerves. 

“I… I couldn’t stop it, you have to believe me,” he pleaded to reach for her again.

“Don’t touch me!” 

“Áine, please.”

“Shut up! You… you… you let her die!” she stammered, rage heating her skin. “You were there! And you just stood there!”

“There was nothing I could do,” he spoke, head hung. 

“Nothing you could do!?” She launched herself for him, reaching her his throat, ready to wring the life out of him. He caught her wrists before she could wrap her fingers around his neck. Her momentum sent them tumbling over and she landed on top of him, straddling chest. She leveraged her position to push against his grip and reach for his throat once again. After a moment of struggle he let his arms go limp, but instead of having her hands around his vile neck, they sunk into the sand at either side of his head. When she wrenched to get free she founds his grip too tight to break free. She thrashed on top of him. 

“Lemme go!” she shouted in his face. 

He didn’t even flinch, just took a breath and replied, “not until you calm down.” His calm set her ablaze. She released the heat churning in her gut and watched as he flinched, squinting warily up at her. Her hair whipped around her face and the sand beneath them began to melt rapidly. The smell of singed fabric snaked through her nose. 

“If you don’t calm down, both of our clothes are going to burn away,” he intoned, still infuriating calm. 

“It won’t matter because you won’t live long enough to enjoy the view,” she snarled, digging deep for the power she could feel within her. 

“Áine,” he warned, tightening his grip on her wrists. 

“Shut up and die, you coward!” She screamed, directing the power straight for him. Suddenly she could feel him pushing into her head, panic gripped her and she twisted violently, trying desperately to escape his grip. 

Enough! his voice pierced her skull and she screamed. She redirected all her energy toward forcing him out of her head. 

Get out, get out, get out! She could feel him rummaging through her head, watching her memories, forcing her to watch his memories. Nooooo! She screamed as she fought against him. Power and heat exploded through every cell of her body. His scream resonated through her skull matched by her own. And then he was gone. The fire deep within her flared one last time before it winked out, sending her plummeting into sweet darkness. 

***

Warmth surrounded her and she inhaled the scent of rain and wildflowers. Home. She was home. Wrapped safely in the comfort of her mother's embrace, her head in her lap. She held tight, aware that this wouldn’t last long. Hands ran lovingly through her hair and she sighed contentedly.

“Aine, my sunshine,” her mother cooed. “Oh, my sweet.”

“Do you have to go?” she asked, knowing the answer before it even left her lips. “Don’t leave me again!” she begged looking up into her mothers face. 

“Listen to me, sunshine. Remember that if you listen closely it will guide you. Listen to it. Trust it,” she said gently. 

“Listen to what?! I don’t understand,” she cried as her mother began slipping through her arms, pulled away by unseen forces.

“Listen to what?!” She screamed, dread filling her.

“Listen!” her mother's distant cry snatched away. 

A hole opened up beneath her and she plummeted into inky pitch. It filled her mouth and nose and eyes, soaking into every pore of her skin, stealing every ounce of light. It pushed in on her as she sunk deeper, feelings of claustrophobia and comfort fighting for dominance. Then she landed on the bottom. 

Like a bubble popping the inky splashed away and she could breathe. Blinking, she saw eery while ovals hovering all around her. They shimmered, molding into masks of horror. A cacophony of screams, moans, and crying split her skull and she screamed with them, all of their pain and sorrow crashing into her. Unable to look away she watched as blood poured from their black eyes and mouths, the metallic tang assaulting her nose as warm liquid began to rise around her. A new face materialized, closer than the others. It was crisp, his eyes strikingly silver instead of black, the planes of his face familiar. Run! he shouted as his torso and arms materialized, reaching desperately for her. Run Áine! But she couldn’t, instead, she found herself reaching for him as well, her only desire to get to him. They both strained to get to one another, fingers stretching toward each other. His eyes swirled liquid silver, fear and hope to battle within. The blood rose to her chin, trying to pull them apart. But still, she reached, determined to get to him. With a cry of effort and surge of strength, their hands connected, their fingers intertwining. Light burst from their flush palms, blinding her, burning everything away but the feel of his hand in hers. 

Áine blinked, breathing rapidly, her blood rushing in her ears. Stars twinkled above her serenely and she stared for a long moment, letting her body relax. The vision had changed. Why? Why hadn’t she run? Why had she reached for him? She remembered his face was familiar, but already his features were blurring in her mind, indistinguishable aside from his liquid silver eyes. She still didn’t understand what the vision meant, and most of all it scared her shitless. She hated not knowing, it left her feeling defenseless and weak. 

She inhaled slowly, her senses began to wander. A fire crackled to her left, the heat from it a comfort. Crickets sang in the underbrush and a leaves gently rustled overhead. Far off an owl hooted. Steady breathing caught her attention to her right and she turned her head. It was the Kingsman, leaning against the trunk of a tree, his face hidden beneath his hood. His even breathing told her he was asleep. She lay there studying him, his clothes looked worse for wear, a little singed in places. One of his hands peaked out from under his cloak, wrapped in clean white bandages. She wondered why. He hadn’t been injured before…

Then it all came crashing back. The medallion, their fight, the power in her gut, his invasion into her mind. She tensed, unconsciously reaching for her hip as well as the spring of power now bubbling in her gut. Her hip was bare, but the spring within her was warm and comforting. With clarity, she understood. This Kingsman was the one who whisked her away after her mother's death. 

With a calm she didn’t quite understand, she slowly sat up, careful not to make a sound. She cautiously shifted to crouch before him. She knew he carried a knife at his right hip, having seen him use it for menial tasks several times over the last few days. Listening one more time to make sure his breathing hadn’t changed, she snatched the knife from its sheath quick as an adder, pressing it to his throat. He tensed and she knew he was no longer asleep. Slowly, she reached up with her free hand and pulled his hood back to reveal his face. For a moment his eyes winked silver, and she sucked in a breath. Then he blinked and they returned to a blue-grey. 

They stared at each other for a long time, her emotions muted by the odd calm blanketing her. As she swiftly sifted through the last day's events, controlled anger began to slowly simmer in her gut.

“How long have I been out?” she asked, deciding to start small.

“A day.”

“What did you do to me?”

He hesitated, “Im not sure.”

“You seemed awful sure when you were rummaging through my head,” she said. His lips pressed into a thin line as the silence stretched between them. She pressed the dagger harder into his flesh, a few beads of blood forming. “What did you do?” she annunciated. 

“This is all new to me as well,” he said in a placating manner.

“Dont patronize me!”

“I’m not,” he growled. “This is all new to me. I didn’t realize I could do… that.”

“What? Slither into someones mind and violate their consciousness?” She seethed, allowing her rising anger to burn away some of her calm. He flinched at her words.

“I didn’t mean to… violate… you.”

“Didn’t you? Because it sure felt like you did.”

“Look, Áine,” he began.

“Don’t, don’t pretend you know me.”

He growled frustratedly. Without warning, he grabbed her hand holding the knife. She jerked, but he held the knife steady to his throat. She stilled unsure of his intentions.

“If you want to kill me, then do it. I deserve it. I could have saved your mother and I didn’t. Instead, I was a coward. I didn’t even try. I only thought of myself. She was like a second mother to me and I. Let. Her. Die. In fact, I lead her to her death.” 

He pressed the knife further into his neck, blood trickling steadily. His eyes were turning silver again, beginning to swirl just like the eyes in her dream. She resisted trying to pull the knife away as his words and stare sent fire and ice zinging through her veins. 

“I lead her to her death and then I stood there and watched as she died. And then when the opportunity to fulfill the promise I made her appeared, what did I do? I left you alone, in an inn with a few coins and a cloak, as if that would be enough to protect you. Im a coward, Áine. I don’t deserve to live. I betrayed her over and over, so if you want to kill me; DO IT!” he shouted.

“Shut up!” she shouted back, hot angry tears streaming down her cheeks. “You don’t deserve the mercy of death! You…” 

Suddenly, he flung her hand aside and she lost her grip on the knife. He lunged for her, pinning her to the forest floor. She thrashed hitting his shoulders and pulling his hair. He didn’t budge, just lay there atop her, his head buried in her shoulder. 

“Get off me!”

“Im sorry,” he whispered into her hair. “I never should have left you.”