Resistance: The Umbra Chronicles Book 3 Read online

  She let go of my hands. ‘Things have changed, Emer. Gwydion has returned!’

  ‘Returned?’

  ‘Didn’t you know? He went missing, along with you and Andras, early last night.’

  ‘Andras wasn’t with me.’ But he’d gone somewhere. Not that I should worry that he knew I’d flown away from him. The fact that I’d turned up at the hospital, without going past the guards at my door would be evidence enough that I’d gone out the window.

  ‘No, he was with Gwydion.’ She said it like it should be obvious. It probably was. My intervention into their lives had only ever been temporary. ‘They brought back captives, some of the people who attacked us at Am Dien yesterday. And they told us that they were sent by the White Queen. Do you get it? It’s what you were saying! Aoife is calling herself the White Queen!’

  ‘I know that, Aine. I didn’t make it up. I told you it was the truth.’

  She looked uncomfortable, and so she damn well should. ‘I’m trying, Emer, I really am. You don’t make it easy.’

  ‘No, I don’t. I never realised that if I wasn’t easy, my family would believe the word of a complete stranger over mine, but here we are. The criteria for belonging to a family shouldn’t be how easy I am to get along with.’

  Oisin intervened. There was really nowhere the conversation could go after that, except down. ‘You say they brought back captives who reported on their leaders?’

  ‘Yes.’ The excitement gripped her again. ‘We’ve all seen it, Father, Gwydion, Andras, Mihall. Father is ready to offer you a pardon and anything you want. Mother — Saoirse — is next. I told them to wait. I knew there would be things you would want to see, Emer.’

  ‘See?’

  ‘Gwydion projects their memories so we can all see them. It’s a very… invasive… procedure, but causes no lasting harm. Gwydion is an expert at it. I had no idea! Come and see!’

  She swept out of the room faster than she’d swept into it. Oisin and I followed her quickly. I made sure my shirt covered the straw rope I’d stuck in my back pocket. If I’d finished it and wrapped it around the bars, it would have broken them. But I didn’t need it right this minute. Should I find myself in another prison, though, I’d be glad to have it.

  Eliann had done much more than allow me to breach Aoife’s shields. I was never going to be held against my will again. Not for long.

  Aine led us to the throne room. It was enormous, as throne rooms, I suppose, usually are. The ceiling was painted blue, with a glimmer of stars peeking through as the colour faded to twilight at the cornices, and to midnight down the walls to the floor. This was the Hall of the Dark King, after all. I shouldn’t have expected the white marble and golden gowns of the Empress. The King sat atop a basalt dais, upon an obsidian throne that loomed against the twilight walls. For once, he was wearing royal robes instead of his usual ragged ones, the silver trim and embroidery glinting like the last shard of starlight before dawn.

  Beside him stood Saoirse, dressed in a violet gown. Seeing her dressed this way, instead of in all white, made it harder to see her as the White Queen. And if I could be confused so easily, no wonder the others found it difficult. The arrogant look she usually wore around the King was replaced by the look of intense anger and resentment I was more accustomed to. Beside and slightly behind her, stood Gwydion, dressed in black and silver like his father.

  Andras stood behind the King, deferential and self-effacing. Dressed all in black, with his dark hair, he was unobtrusive in the way of the best guards. He was standing there like he had absolutely no opinion. That reassured me more than anyone else. Andras wouldn’t just have an opinion, but express it, if he disagreed.

  There weren’t many other people in the room, massive as it was. There were a few guards — I recognised Ferdas, and Mihall, who I guessed was the one who had been training Aine on the roof. I hadn’t asked myself before now how she’d known that the tower roof was the only part of the palace accessible to the moonlight and still within the shield. Of course. She needed that space to train in private.

  Aine went to join her father, her silver gown the perfect foil for the darkness of the others’ clothes.

  ‘Greetings, King Oisin, Bach Chwaer.’ The King was every inch a king, remote and courteous, but resolute. ‘We have asked you here today to find the truth, once and for all. Already we have heard the word of several witnesses. The time has come to see the truth from the two principal witnesses. Bach Chwaer, with your permission, we will view your memories.’

  I hesitated. Aine had described the process as invasive. And I didn’t like the idea of everyone here seeing my memories. But then, I hadn’t done anything I was ashamed of. Even the lies, which I regretted, had been told because I was protecting my sister. I raised my chin. Let them see and damn them all for asking.

  ‘I have nothing to hide,’ I proclaimed in a ringing voice. Umbra flashed from my brow and Saoirse wasn’t the only one to flinch. I allowed myself a slight smile. Nothing is scarier than an opponent with an inappropriate smile. Yar Yarinann, the Slave King of Cairastel, had taught me that.

  ‘Bring in the mirror!’ the King cried.

  If I expected a cheval mirror, who could blame me? Instead, it was as tall top to bottom as the top of the throne was from the floor, and just as wide. It was brought in on a wagon, covered with drapes that rippled as they moved, the wheels beneath gliding across the floor without anything pulling the wagon. I noticed Gwydion’s hand moving slightly, stopping when the mirror stopped, before he looped his thumb back into the belt at his lean waist.

  A guard pulled the drapes from the mirror.

  This thing had to be magic. Had to be. If we were in Meistria right now and among the White Queen’s purges, this would have been the first thing to be either smashed or conveyed to Cairastel. Perfectly round in shape, the rim was carved intricately and as I tried to look closer, I realised that the carvings were moving. The surface of the mirror didn’t reveal the room around us. It swirled silver and grey, like a monochromatic version of the Portal that Umbra created. I wanted to touch the surface.

  See if I would fall through it.

  A guard brought a chair and placed it behind me. I was a little afraid when I saw it, realising that it was probably there to catch me when I fainted from however invasive this procedure might be. He put his hand on my shoulder, applying brief pressure before withdrawing. I sat. I trembled.

  ‘Remain seated,’ Gwydion said, eyes focussed intently on me. He put a hand on Saoirse’s arm and lowered his voice for her. ‘Remain calm, my Lady. The truth will soon be out.’

  Her eyes went wide. His grip tightened. I was already trembling. Now I breathed faster. He knew. He had to know. I didn’t relax, but I let it happen. Oisin’s hand dropped to my shoulder where the guard had pressed me into the chair. ‘I’m here,’ he murmured.

  Gwydion asked permission, silently, as his mind approached mine. That surprised me. I’d expected him to force his way in. It wasn’t with words, but he halted, close enough that I could feel him, distant enough that I could withdraw if I chose. I nodded and let out a slow breath to keep myself calm.

  Chapter Seventeen

  I felt pressure in my mind. It was uncomfortable, but I was determined to let it happen. I tried to stay relaxed and let him in, but it wasn’t easy. When he finally gained access, I realised why Aine had described the process as invasive.

  It was invasive. Gwydion was in my mind. If I’d resisted, it might have hurt. If he’d insisted, it would surely have hurt. Sharing myself with Umbra had felt natural. I’d shared myself with her for years. Having someone else in there felt… different. He probed gently. I reached out to him for reassurance and he gave it. I clung to that reassurance as he cast my memories to the mirror.

  He started right at the beginning, but he sorted through which memories were displayed on the mirror. He saw Solstice after Solstice in Caillen. He saw me and Sparrow receiving new names, going from family to family. ‘So, there is
a sister,’ the King mused.

  Then Gwydion saw Maldwyn.

  He saw what Maldwyn had done to me and the shock and horror of it sent him stumbling from my mind. He managed to control the projection so that at least everyone didn’t see me being assaulted, but everyone saw the image of David in my arms as a newborn baby before the mirror went dark.

  Gwydion’s fingers dug into Saoirse’s arms. She brought up her hands to cover his as he leaned behind her shoulder and shook with disgust.

  ‘Indecent,’ Saoirse crooned. ‘I told you all that she was indecent girl. She was impossible to control.’

  ‘Indecent?’ I repeated. ‘Yes, I have a son. I have made no secret of it. And it is more indecent than you know, for a woman who pretends to be my mother. My son is four years old. Would you like to explain how you, as a loving mother, so completely failed to protect her teenage daughter from the predations of a man twice her age? Gwydion, you have seen inside my mind. Show them the man who fathered my son.’

  Entering my mind slowly and carefully, Gwydion found a memory. Maldwyn’s face flickered onto the mirror. Clearly an adult. Gwydion found a memory of my face in a mirror. Clearly a child.

  ‘Fourteen years old,’ I said, every bitter drop of my blood was expressed in those three words.

  Aine’s hand went to her mouth to cover her gasp of horror. Andras reached out to support her with trembling hands, to support himself. Even the King shook his head and averted his eyes from the mirror, disgust clear on every line of his face. Oisin’s hand tightened on my shoulder. ‘I’m so sorry, Emer. Say the word and I will end this now.’

  I had to swallow hard before I said, ‘No. Let it continue.’

  Saoirse shook her head sadly while she got over the shock. ‘Even at so young an age, I couldn’t control you, Emer.’

  ‘What an evil mind you have, Aunt, if you believe that a child has the capacity to consent. I was fourteen years old when he assaulted me. Many times. And I became pregnant. When I gave birth, he took my son away and made sure I knew that if I disobeyed him, he would kill my son.’

  ‘Little tramp!’ Saoirse didn’t know her audience. She’d lost touch with right and wrong long before I’d even met her the first time. If she’d ever known the difference in the first place.

  Pale, but resolute, Aine stepped out of Andras’s consoling hands. ‘I have a child, too, Saoirse. I am not married. I was not assaulted against my will. Would you use the same slur to me?’

  Saoirse knew this was dangerous ground. She had little insight, but this much was clear. ‘Of course not,’ she mumbled.

  ‘Let us resume, my son.’ The King turned his face back to the mirror.

  And they saw the rest, but this time Gwydion allowed a longer pause between his discovery of a memory and the projection of it onto the mirror. They watched me and Sparrow run away from Maldwyn. Aine saw herself as the Dark Queen. They saw us enter the Portal. They saw Sparrow pulled out of my hands.

  He skimmed through my time in Rheged, keeping most of the memories of Caradoc from public view. I felt his apology for sorting through those memories. He had to pause when he saw me feeding the Seed of Truth to Darragh.

  ‘You’re the reason he became a dragon!’ Saoirse screeched, trying to point at me but unable to move her whole arm because Gwydion still held her. ‘You’re the one who changed him!’

  ‘No,’ Oisin said. His voice always carried. ‘The Bach Chwaer fed Master Darragh the Seeds of Truth. She did not change him into a dragon. She removed his glamours and revealed his true form. He was Draceni, as I am. He used his shape to terrorise others and to repeat unsavoury rumours and lies about our kind. The Draceni hate him, possibly even more than others hate him. He is a bully. And like all bullies, he used every advantage to intimidate and control the people around him. Continue!’

  Gwydion allowed the memories to linger on the time I’d killed Darragh’s son. He’d been massive in his dragon form, but I’d been protecting the children in the Halls of Youth. He let everyone hear Caradoc’s words in my praise afterwards. Caradoc could have convinced anyone that I was a hero, though.

  They saw me return to my own time and for the first time, saw Saoirse as she was now. They saw her wound Sparrow so grievously I thought she was dead. They saw the guards arrest me and Lynnevet and prepare for our execution. They saw the child I’d once seen burned alive for having magic, placed tenderly on the pyre before it was lit.

  They saw Aoife’s torture of me. The time in Cairastel, Sparrow in a featherskin, Gwydion in a cage, and later, Gwydion being thrown from dragonback in an attempt to murder him. They saw me beaten to a pulp in an effort to sway opinion to her side. They saw me and Rhiannon harvested. They saw Lynnevet thrown back into the Portal, where she would emerge three hundred years in the past and become the Empress, the stepmother of Aine and Aoife. And they saw Saoirse again, holding me captive in Cairnagorn, and later the cleft in the rock. They saw me escape. They saw me return to them willingly.

  When Gwydion withdrew from my mind, gentler than he had when he’d fled after seeing Maldwyn, it was all I could do to stay upright. I wasn’t harmed, not in body, not in mind, but Aine had been right. It was incredibly invasive.

  The King turned to Saoirse. ‘You have but one opportunity to save yourself from a terrible retribution. Speak the truth to me now. Are you my wife, Saoirse?’

  ‘Beloved! Of course…’ She tried to smile, and failed. She was frightened. There was no way any of what we had seen was a lie.

  ‘Then answer me this: what happened the night the twins were born?’

  She stared at him. ‘Lynnevet murdered me,’ she said. ‘Or at least, she made you think she murdered me. And she said she blamed you, so you fled.’

  The King blinked. ‘Saoirse,’ he whispered.

  ‘Conal.’

  ‘Saoirse, that is not true.’

  ‘My memory must be faulty! It was so long ago.’

  The King shook his head. ‘No, madam, such a night cannot be forgotten. You would know, if you had ever had children, that you do not forget the night of their birth. Gwydion, be sure this liar does not escape your grasp.’

  Saoirse — it was easier to think of her by that name than it was to think of her as Aoife, when young Aoife was still in Rheged becoming the White Queen. She spat at me, where I sat, exhausted physically and emotionally in the chair before the dais. I jerked backwards reflexively, although I was far enough away to be well out of reach. Gwydion jostled her roughly and I was unnerved by the stern expression on his face. If I hadn’t gotten to know him as well as he’d gotten to know me in the last few hours, I might have even been afraid.

  For the one who was described to me, more than once, as “the best of us,” Gwydion had an astonishing ability to instil fear. I’m not sure what I would have feared most: his ability to be frighteningly resolute, or the fact that he could convince his nearest and dearest that he didn’t have so much as a sharp edge on his soul. But they’d been right. There was a core of honour and compassion in Gwydion I’d never seen in anyone else. He was a good man, all the way to his core.

  I’d forgotten, in all that we’d gone through, that I’d first met Gwydion in a scene much like this, even before I was tossed into the wagon where I thought we were both dead. He’d been the Empress’s prisoner. She’d called him a spy. We’d watched his memories projected upon the ceiling and seen his father sending him to do some reconnaissance and learn about the Bach Chwaer — me. I hadn’t wondered why a King would send his only son into the teeth of his enemy. I knew now that the King was wise. He would only have sent Gwydion if Gwydion was the best.

  ‘You have opened my eyes, my son,’ the King said. His voice was very deep and tears glimmered in the corners of his eyes. He stood up. I looked up at Oisin but he was watching the King.

  The King descended the basalt steps, slowly and with apparent pain. He crossed the flagstones towards me and Oisin. Then, to my utter astonishment, the King bowed to me, then to Oisin. H
e knelt on the cold flagstones at our feet. I wanted to jump to my feet, but I wasn’t sure they’d support me.

  ‘Bach Chwaer, your Majesty, I beg pardon of you both. I allowed myself to be deceived by an evil woman. And in doing so, I have treated you both disgracefully. I am shamed by my behaviour. Will you both accept my apology?’

  I’d been willing to display caution in accepting Aine’s apology, but the man was on his knees. All I could think of saying was, ‘For God’s sake, get up!’ but I held back. I knew enough to know that when a King is kneeling at my feet, making the world’s most abject apology, I should maybe be a little more eloquent. So, I let Oisin do it.

  Oisin bowed. I followed suit in a hurry. ‘Apology accepted, my Lord King. Your words do you honour. May I recommend that we view the memories of the traitor, also? We might learn a great deal from her. After what the Bach Chwaer has volunteered to do here today, it is only just.’

  ‘No!’ Saoirse cried. ‘No, you have no right! I won’t let you!’ She struggled, but Gwydion held her firmly. The guards ascended the stairs and took her from him, to hold her securely before the mirror. The King ascended the stairs to his throne, assisted by Andras on one side and Gwydion on the other. Turning to face Saoirse, Gwydion’s eyes narrowed again.

  I felt a little sick. Saoirse was still screaming, protesting. I struggled to my feet. ‘No, please stop!’ I cried, reaching out to Gwydion. ‘Please, no, this isn’t right!’

  The King raised an eyebrow. ‘After what she did to you, you would ask mercy for her?’

  ‘Mercy? Absolutely not. But what just happened to me — I consented to it. She isn’t. And it isn’t right to breach someone’s mind without their consent. It’s tantamount to assault.’

  The King looked to Gwydion, who nodded slightly. Aine stepped forward. ‘Emer’s right, Father. My stepmother forced memories from unwilling captives. That was her way. It shouldn’t be ours.’

  ‘We are in a time of war, my daughter. Lives are at stake.’

  ‘That doesn’t make it right.’ There was the Dark Queen in Aine again. Every time I saw that side of her, I felt hope for the future.