Page 137 of Haunted

“Yes, try to fight it,” I say. “Let the rage build. You can wield the dark power if you let it course through you. You’ll better understand once you remember how your mother was killed.”

I grab Ahnalyn’s head, pressing my fingertips against her scalp. I lace her mind with a covering of dark matter. Slowly, the matter will penetrate her mind and wrap her dreams in nightmare. Finally, I leave her with one truth, the vision of what really happened at her mother’s death.

Knowing she killed her mother will destroy her.

Ahnalyn cries out when I let go, her eyes roll back into her head, and she sinks to the floor.

I breeze from the cave, dropping Seren’s barrier but casting a new one at the cave’s entrance.

Four prisoners for the price of one.

With Aneirin’s injuries, Ahnalyn’s mental turmoil, and two dragons growing hungrier by the minute, I don’t see a pleasant night for anyone but myself.

95

By late afternoon the following day, I show up outside the cave. Aneirin and Cephias are trying to figure out why I want their dragon stones. I want to know how Ahnalyn fares after seeing her mother’s death.

“Ah, have you figured it out?” I steeple my fingers and press them to my lips in anticipation.

Cephias growls, and Seren hisses. Ahnalyn stumbles to her feet and meets me at the cave’s entrance. She presses her hands to the energy trapping them inside. Aneirin trails after her like a loyal puppy.

“You’re not my father,” Ahnalyn says.

“I’m not? Come now, daughter, can’t you see how alike we are? You have my dark hair, my thin lips, and my tiny nose. My long, tapered fingers. You’re more like me than your mother. What did you inherit from her? Green eyes, pssh—most emrys have green eyes. Fair skin”—I wave my hand—“the same as every emrys.”

Ahnalyn clenches her fists and pounds on the barrier. The energy ripples in response. So much hate courses through her.

Aneirin grabs her shoulders, steadying her. He tips his silvery-blond head to her ear and whispers, “Calm down. He’s goading you. It increases your anger, thus increasing your darkness.”

I lean toward them. “Your emrys is wise. Don’t listen to him. You like the passion fueling you, Ahnalyn. It makes you feel alive, but the dark power is more than anger. Give in to it, and I will show you.”

Madness brims at the edge of Ahnalyn’s mind, and she grips her head and moans.

You must accept the truth.

Aneirin slips his arms around her. “Leave her alone, Caedryn.”

“Ah, her protector. Don’t think I don’t know about you. Niawen told me all about her family and friends in Gorlassar. I convinced her they would never take her back. You should tell Ahnalyn why Niawen left. She would be greatly interested in what all of you have neglected to tell her.”

Aneirin growls, deep and rumbling. “You fiend!”

Ahnalyn’s face is as white as cream.

I clap my hands. “You have more to discuss, and since Seren has yet to produce an egg…” I narrow my eyes. “Don’t try any heroics. I’ve located my grandson. I could easily retrieve him.”

“No,” Ahnalyn says. “Don’t touch him.”

“He’s bluffing.” Aneirin rubs her shoulders. “Einion’s safe.”

Einion is my grandson’s name? So easy to learn information when fools just give it up without my asking.

“Are you a fool?” I ask. “I can discern the same light you can, Aneirin. I’ve been following you this entire time. Ahnalyn to the treetop village, you down to Talfryn, you flying here, and Einion staying there. Light discerns light, and if you’d open your eyes, you’d see what you’ve been blind to this whole time.”

Aneirin blinks like the dimwitted fool he is. “You’re a half-emrys. Would it surprise you to know that this is common knowledge?”

I flap my hands in the air, feigning excitement. “Really? Seren, what have you been telling them?”

“Only how despicable you are,” she says.

---