A Fire Endless (Elements of Cadence, #2)

by Rebecca Ross

Innes had seen enough. Her lips were pressed into a firm line, her eyes blazing with anger. She turned to one of the guards at the door. “Bring in the chopping block. Bind their hands and ankles.” Shocked, Griselda cried, “Laird! You would take the word of this servant over us?” “I would and I do,” Innes said. “Now kneel.”

“I stand here and ask myself ‘why?’ Why did you want to kill the Tamerlaines, who trusted us after centuries of strife? Why, if not for your own fear and ignorance? You look to the past, where there is nothing but bloodshed. You chart your present by what has been done and what has happened, as if you can never rise and break away from it.”

“Give your fear a name,” Jack said, remembering that Adaira had once said this very thing to Torin. “Once it is named, it is understood, and it loses its power over you.”

He marveled at how his own heart could exist outside his body. “You don’t know what you do to me,” he whispered. “By you alone I could be undone.”

Jack envisioned the Aithwood. It was the place where everything had not only ended but also begun. Joan and Fingal’s deaths. The clan line. The spirits’ freedom. Iagan’s mortality and reign. Adaira’s path eastward. The dwelling of Jack’s father. It called to him now.

“Will I see you again?” Torin asked. Hap offered a crooked smile. “Perhaps. These days one never knows what to expect.” But then his humor waned, and his eyes darkened with intensity. “I can never thank you, mortal laird, for what you have done for us. I could never repay you for your generosity. Let this hill forever stand as a testament to you.”

He had healed the sickened Tamerlaines. All but one, and she was many kilometers away.

Shivering as he crouched in the hill’s shadow, Torin finally decided it didn’t matter how long the journey took him. He would crawl all the way to the clan line if he had to.

“Sidra.” It wasn’t her name spoken into the silence that shocked her. It was the voice, beloved and deep and warm, like a summer valley. A voice she had thought she would never hear again.

He looked otherworldly, and yet his eyes were fixed on her and her alone, as though no one else was in the hall. No one else in the realm apart from her.

“You have been so brave, Sidra. You have been so strong without me, holding the clan and the east together. Let me help you now, love. Let me carry it with you again.” His words made her tremble. The weight of all the burdens she had been carrying began to lift from her shoulders, like a boulder on her back finally slipping away, and she could suddenly draw a deep breath and straighten her spine.

Sidra knew there were Breccans present who were sick, and yet they kept their mouths closed. Her joy began to dwindle, watching them refuse to yield. Torin waited, but when no one moved, he began to tuck the bowl of remedy back into his satchel. He was looking at Sidra again, his eyes tracing her every line and curve, when a voice at last broke the quiet. “I need to be healed.” Sidra turned to see that David Breccan had stepped forward.

Torin cleaned the knife, took up the remedy, and went to David. And Sidra watched in wonder as Torin healed the west with his hands.

“The forest lies ahead of you, Bard,” she whispered. “The trees are stronger than me and can offer you better shelter.” Jack hesitated. But then she winced and said, “Run!” He lurched upwards and sprinted, just as Bane struck the spirit in the heather. Jack wanted to stop and turn around, but he heard her dying scream. She had given herself up for him, and he could taste the burning heather on the wind.

“Sing us to peace, Jack,” his grandmother said, laying her weathered hand on his cheek. “If there is anyone strong enough to do so, it is you.”

“But I cannot let you go without telling you that I was proud to call you mine then,” Niall whispered, “even if only your mother and the spirits could stand witness. And I am proud to call you mine now.”

Adaira startled and glanced up. It was Kae. The spirit’s eyes were wide with concern, but her face expressed determination, and it suddenly occurred to Adaira that Kae could stand against the storm.

Jack continued to sing, even as the ground shook and the wind roared. He knew the spirits were giving themselves up to protect him, and he simply needed to hold on and reach the end.

Frae would never forget the moment her mother opened her eyes and saw the man, sitting next to her. She would never forget how Mirin had smiled, first at him and then at Frae. Frae had always wanted to know what magic felt like. She imagined she had grasped it in her hands sometimes, when she harvested wildflowers from the valleys or drank from one of the trickling pools. When she looked up at the stars on a moonless night. But now she knew.

Sidra listened as Torin told her everything. She was swept away by his story, by the riddle and his plight, by the flowers he gathered and his failed attempts. By a hill spirit named Hap, who had become his friend in adversity.

She was home with Torin. She may have been in the west, with sunlight streaming in through the window, but she was home in his arms. She had never felt safer, or more deeply known and loved as he whispered her name.

She couldn’t help but wonder what would have happened if she had been with Jack when he sang. If she had stood at his side when the fire burned. He would have remained with her, this much she knew. He would have remained bound to her by oath and choice and love, three cords not easily broken. Bane would still reign beyond the veil of the world, and the west would have remained shadowed. No, she told herself, shaking away her emotion. This is how it was always meant to be. And she couldn’t fault Jack for knowing it as well, and for leaving her asleep in their bed.

“What does this look like to you, Sid?” Adaira asked. Sidra gazed ahead, uncertain at first. But then she saw the same vision as Adaira, and warmth began to course through her blood. “It looks like a road.”

“He’s a Breccan.” “And he is mine,” Mirin countered coolly. “Lower your arrows, before you shoot an innocent person.” “What do you mean he is yours? Are you bound to this man, Mirin?” Frae watched as her mother looked at Niall. “Yes. We spoke a vow on this hill, years ago by the light of the moon. He is mine, and should you harm him, you would hold a debt against me that you could never repay.”

“Of course you can stay here,” Torin said, lifting his hand. “This is your family, and you belong with them. But we wanted to ask if we could use your cottage in the woods.” “Use it?” Niall asked. “What for?” “We want to establish a trade there,” Sidra replied. “A place for Breccans and Tamerlaines to meet and exchange goods, as well as share meals and stories. A place where peace may be forged.”

They both watched the stars begin to burn, one by one, and Mirin whispered, “That is where your brother is. He is the fire and the light of the isle. As long as the stars shine, he will always be with you.”

She unsheathed Jack’s truth blade from her belt. “If two people from each clan made this boundary with blood and curses, then I believe two can undo it with blood and a benediction.”

“Adaira?” her father asked. “Do you want to join us?”

STOP HE CALLED HER BY HER EASTERN NAME

“Name me your heiress,” Adaira said. “I want to lead the west.”

“I have done you a favor by dethroning your king,” Jack said, “and now I ask a favor of you. Take my crown and give it to one of your own kind, one who is worthy amongst you. I ask that you permit me to return to my mortal life.”

If you return to the human realm, your days will be numbered again. You will turn into dust and rot in a grave.” “It is not a fate I fear,” Jack said. “What I fear is living for an eternity with a wound that will never heal.”

“My king? Who would you choose among us to wear your crown? Who among us is worthy?” That silenced the noise. Suddenly every eye was fixed upon Jack. Hap’s question was easy for him to answer. He had known whom he would choose the moment he saw her glide into the hall. She stood at the back of the assembly near Whin, her wings tucked in close. “Kae,” he called to her.

“You’ve been gone for one hundred and eleven days.” He swore, raking his fingers through his hair. When Adaira glanced at him over her shoulder, he drawled, “I’m pleased to know someone’s been counting.”

“Even if I lived a thousand years in the fire,” Jack said, “I would not forget you. I would not allow myself to.”

I want to write a ballad with you, not in notes but in our choices, in the simplicity and routine of our life together. In waking up at your side every sunrise and falling asleep entwined with you every sunset. In kneeling beside you in the kail yard and leading a clan and overseeing trade and eating at our parents’ tables. In making mistakes, because I know that I’ll make them, and then restitution, because I’m better than I once ever hoped to be when I’m with you.”

He wondered what tomorrow would bring. What the days ahead would be like in this new world. An isle united. His hand in Adaira’s, their scars aligned. But that is a story for another windy, firelit night.