The lessons were going well, according to Darach’s way of reckoning, badly if Ceithin’s moaning was anything to go by. Ceithin was irritable and antsy and just annoying.
Darach had been in the village three weeks already. Wearing clothes borrowed from a Cariad boy who couldn’t have been a day over sixteen, Darach looked like he belonged, but he just didn’t feel it. He had explored the village as much as he could, talked to everyone, smiled, was gracious, but still he felt like an outsider. The Cariad were friendly but cautious around him, apart from Ceithin’s family, of course. They were both friendly and accepting. The village didn’t have a name, but the entire valley was named in Ancient as the Valley of the Rainbows.
Despite myths to the contrary, it appeared the Cariad weren’t as nomadic as they were made out to be. Llewellyn’s generation was the fourth to live in this Valley, with its strong wards and ancient barriers. The origins of the name for the Valley were in the rainbows to be seen in each of the seven waterfalls. Given the number of waterfalls tumbling into the river traversing the vale, a flickering constellation of constantly changing color filled the air every time the sun blessed them with its presence through the sketchy clouds. The falls, the pools, and the winding river fascinated Darach and scared the life out of him at the same time. Water might well be what Ceithin insisted was Darach’s element, but gods, just the thought of it, the water over his head and not being able to swim caused fear to course through him. He hated water any bigger than a bath, and clearly, water hated him right back.
“Use your water element as well as the Fire. I keep telling you—”
“Telling me doesn’t help, Cariad,” Darach snapped, his patience as thin as Ceithin’s. “You may believe that Ancient rubbish, but I don’t, and if I can’t do this water element control, then I can’t. I have my Fire under control now. Isn’t it enough for me to cross?”
“Your Fire is not under your control by any stretch of your limited imagination.”
Darach sighed. He had heard the whole “you know nothing” speech a hundred times these last few days.
“And your Fire is nothing without your element,” Ceithin added dramatically.
“I can’t believe Kian mastered this any quicker.”
“He didn’t.”
Darach frowned. What did Ceithin mean he didn’t?
“He didn’t need to, not when he could pass through thin barriers on All Hallows. You could always wait.”
Darach dismissed the idea of waiting any longer to cross for the grand rescue and instead tried harder to concentrate.
Darach eyed the crystal bowl of tepid water sitting next to him. Ceithin was adamant Darach should have some mystic mumbo jumbo control over the wet stuff. All he wanted, apparently, was for Darach to move the water from one crystal bowl to another. So far, Darach had magiked it to steam, ice, and some unnamable gloop that turned pink and shriveled to nothing. Not a good start.
“Every Fire has two sides, Darach. You would be stronger if you used both.”
Again with the Ancient crap. This was all getting a little bit too much, and a petulance rose in Darach he had absolutely no control over. “What if I don’t want to?”
“Gods, what the hell do you mean ‘don’t want to’? How can you not want to learn what makes you strongest?” Ceithin looked confused, verging on horrified.
“Not everyone is as obsessed by the mystical balance of nature as you.” He emphasized the mystical part with a wiggle of his fingers and saw the instant narrowing of Ceithin’s eyes.
“Darach,” Ceithin said with a sigh, “no one is trained to fully utilize all of their Fire anymore, and yours is probably running at fifty percent. The Cariad and the Council are maybe the only people left who remember both sides. You need your element to get to the other side to find your friend.”
“Everything has its time. Maybe we don’t need this element thing anymore. Maybe we should just try crossing anyway,” Darach said stubbornly, even though inside he wasn’t sure why he was even arguing the point. There was just something about Ceithin that brought out his inner child.
“It’s your time, Darach, and if we tried to cross over now, you would be torn to shreds in an instant.”
Angry at his inability to control the water, his limited options, and the damned understanding voice Ceithin was using, Darach scrambled to stand. “I want to stop this. It’s a waste of time.”
“You can’t just stop.”
“I can’t do it.”
Ceithin followed him to his feet. Then, in a movement so fast Darach had no time to counter it, he was swept up and over Ceithin’s shoulder, any words he was trying to say swallowed in a sudden gasp of fear. He struggled and kicked out, but a quick smack to his ass and muttered words from his companion and he couldn’t speak. He tried to speak, but no sound escaped his mouth. Not again! He’d had enough of Ceithin using magik to keep him quiet. He kept struggling, trying to see where the Cariad bastard was taking him, but all he could see were bushes and trees, and when he ended up with a mouthful of green leaf from a passing branch, he decided to shut his mouth and stop trying to talk at all. The ground they crossed was uneven, but Ceithin didn’t stumble. Darach might be shorter than Ceithin, but surely he wasn’t that light? Ceithin hefted his weight without as much as a grunt and trudged along steadily.
Fear caught Darach tightly in his gut as he heard the noise over the protestations in his head, a roaring noise. Water. A freaking waterfall. Surely Ceithin wasn’t going to take him to water. Hell, he couldn’t swim, and he hated water. The scream of terror clawed the back of his throat, but he could make no sound. Desperate, he started wriggling to the point where he very nearly slipped from Ceithin’s grip.
Too late! The water was there. He could smell it, and he screamed soundlessly as Ceithin dropped him on his ass into it. He hit the bottom. It hurt, and his open mouth filled with water. Panic spiraled, and his breathing stopped—just stopped. He pushed from the bottom, felt hands pulling at him, shouting words that made no sense.
“…stand up… stand up… It’s shallow… Darach, stand up.”
His Fire pushed outward suddenly and blindingly, and a clash of his with scarlet forced him to stand, gripping Ceithin who stood with a face creased in concern.
“What in the hell?”
Darach opened and closed his mouth. He wanted to explain, but the death grip he had on Ceithin was probably explaining more than he could say. With a flick of Ceithin’s hand, suddenly Darach had his voice. “I can’t swim, you son of a whore!” he shouted, pushing at Ceithin who just pushed back.
“It’s no more than hip high,” Ceithin said, laughter in his voice.
“I hate water.”
“How in the hell can you hate water? It’s your element.” Ceithin seemed genuinely perplexed, his jaw slack with surprise.
“I don’t feel like it’s my element.”
“Well, you should.” Ceithin’s voice rose in agitation. “You’re just not trying hard enough.”
“I was trying. I tried harder at this than anything before.” Temper coiled in Darach, and he clenched his fists, the need to hit someone close to the surface.
“You’re not trying!” Ceithin shouted. Abruptly, he stopped mid-shout. His gaze dropped to the water around Darach, his eyes widening.
Darach followed the look, and shock stole his anger in an instant. Blue Fire darted in streaks and bursts from every inch of Darach’s body that was touching water, shooting out into the fall lake, snatches of white dancing on the surface. Every so often, a small whirlpool of water was created, while, in other places, a spiral tower of droplets rose before their eyes. And everywhere, everywhere, tiny rainbows formed as the sun hit each individual water spout. It was so beautiful, absolutely stunning.
“What did I do?” Darach looked back at Ceithin, bewildered, feeling weak at the knees and still gripping his assailant tightly. “What am I doing?”
“I don’t know.” Ceithin sounded just as bewildered, but then he simply grinned as the water spouts collected around the men’s legs. Ceithin stumbled closer as the water pushed them until they were hip-to-hip in the coolness of the pool.
Darach held himself still. He wasn’t sure what was happening, but holy hell, the water was churning around him. His Fire was climbing his spine, the euphoria in him was intense, and being this close to Ceithin was screwing with his head. His element was like this man, strong and insistent, playful and teasing and pushing at him. The water was affecting his sex. Ceithin was irreverent, forceful, idiotic, and arrogant, so it couldn’t be contact with him that meant Darach’s cock had gone from vaguely interested to freaking full-on stiff as wood in seconds. Ceithin laughed, the huff of his breath warm on Darach’s face. Hell, had the Cariad felt how hard Darach was?
“You need to calm down, Darach.”
“It’s not me.”
“It’s you. I promise it’s you. You connected. Just close your eyes and breathe deeply.” Darach started to argue—Again with the closing-his-eyes orders—but Ceithin wasn’t giving him the chance. Instead, he placed his hands firmly onto Darach’s shoulders, providing solid support. “Close your eyes. Breathe.”
Darach closed his eyes tightly, focusing on calming his breathing. Slowly and surely, his Fire curled back inside him, although he sensed its reluctance. He could see it as it left the water and insinuated itself, sulkily, reluctantly, slowly, until finally every single touch of blue was back inside him. The water stilled its frantic movements and its dance. He didn’t have to open his eyes to see that. He could sense the utter calm about them.
The calm gave way to the heat of red as it filtered through his consciousness, and he realized Ceithin was helping him. Anger speared through him at what had just happened and the idiot who had just dumped him in the water. He opened his eyes, and all hell broke loose. Fire snapped and fizzed around him as he pulled himself away from Ceithin and stalked out of the water and up onto the bank.
“You freaking idiot!” he shouted as he retreated. “You don’t just drop people into water.”
“It worked, didn’t it?” Ceithin didn’t sound too worried.
In fact, when Darach turned back, the other man was nonchalantly standing there, arms crossed, and he had that damned arrogant grin on his face. Temper simmered below the surface of Darach’s skin, then shot to his fingertips, and he aimed his Fire not at Ceithin but at the water surrounding him. What was the point of having some kind of weird connection of Fire to water if you couldn’t use it to drown smug bastards like Ceithin?
Ceithin spluttered and cursed as he was engulfed with a spiral of water that drenched him, and only as the water receded did he go back to laughing. It was the last thing Darach could hear as he tracked his way back to the village, each step a wet slurp of feet in boots filled with water.
Cariad bastard.
* * * * *
Brigid located him in the best hiding place he could find, behind the curtain of one of the largest of the waterfalls. He had spent an hour bending the water to him, causing the rainbows in the mist he could see to dispel with sparks of violet. Something was plainly wrong with his Fire. The blue had a distinct scarlet tinge. Ceithin’s Fire had obviously polluted his.
“Darach?” Her voice was soft, and he snapped the control of the latest water spout suddenly; it dissipated in a flurry of droplets. She smiled at the action, watching fascinated as the liquid found the path of least resistance and joined the bulk of the fall’s curtain.
“He sent his sister to apologize for him, then.” Darach didn’t bother to hide his derision at Ceithin’s cowardice. Score one for Darach.
“Who?” Brigid seemed genuinely confused, but then her face cleared. “Oh, I see. You are wanting an apology from my brother? Was the falling-out serious? Is that why you are hiding?”
“I’m not hiding. You should be pleased, because I’m practicing.”
“I saw. How does it feel?”
“Practicing is boring.” Darach wasn’t ready to share the euphoria of this strange connection his Fire had to the element.
“Kian loved to learn, but we didn’t have enough time.”
Despair speared into Darach at the mention of his blood brother. Three weeks here and he still wasn’t any closer to rescuing Kian.
“His Fire was extraordinarily strong.” She stooped to sit next to him and picked up a handful of earth, opening her hand flat. Darach couldn’t not look at her hand. His eyes widened as the earth expanded slightly and a small, green shoot appeared. Tiny at first, it grew to a few inches in length and then stopped. Gently, Brigid placed the seedling and its earth into the moist area as close to the fall as she could. “His element was earth, and it fascinated him. He missed you.”
The change in direction of her conversation threw Darach momentarily, and then as he registered what she said, he sighed. “I miss him.”
“So you want to cross and find him? Ceithin told me.”
“Yes, that’s my plan.”
“And Ceithin says he is to go with you?”
“Not if I have anything to say about it.” Darach was quick to emphasize the point, temper snapping in his Fire.
“Did Ceithin ever tell you about our brother Trystyn?”
“Just that he is missing and that was why Ceithin was in the City, following leads to find some trace of him.”
Brigid sat back against a rock and crossed her legs. “Trystyn was the youngest of the three of us, younger by a good few years than Ceithin. He was a beautiful child and an annoying brat of a little brother, spoiled by me and Ceithin. He was different from the day he was born. Already he had amber Fire, and it surrounded him, so beautiful.”
“Like infant Fire?” Darach couldn’t help himself from asking questions. Amber Fire was so rare, and it fascinated him.
“Oh no.” She laughed, and he saw that same smile on her beautiful face Ceithin wore so well. “His Fire was fully mature from near day one. It made things interesting.”
“How old was he when he went missing?”
“He was fourteen. He and Ceithin were swimming. Well, Ceithin was trying to teach a very reluctant Trystyn to swim. Trystyn hated the water.” She paused a while, and a faint smile crossed her face as she was lost in memories. “What happened isn’t clear, but Ceithin was rendered unconscious and Trystyn vanished. That was years ago now. We tried so hard to find him. We asked questions, cast magik, and heard rumors about the Council. There were other young men, new to their Fire, who had disappeared. Those with very strong Fire, more so than others. The name Sulien came up on more than one occasion, so much so it became a curse. Ceithin tried to follow every single trail, but Trystyn had just disappeared. Ceithin never gave up. I know none of us have really given up, but only Ceithin decided to follow any rumor he heard. Finally, it landed him as a prisoner.”
“Did Ceithin think Trystyn might still be with the Council?”
“None of us knew for sure. I think my brother was desperate for anything really, and I nearly lost him too.” She sighed and then shook her head as if to clear her thoughts. “Anyway, Darach, the reason I came to find you was that Ceithin had a strip torn off him by father, and my idiot brother was told to apologize to you when he sees you next.”
Darach snorted at Brigid’s revelation. “I don’t need apologies. I just need to get away from here, on my own, with no Cariad bastard pulling me back.”
Brigid winced at his tone, and instantly guilt knifed through him at his casual dismissal of what the Cariad had done willingly for him over the last few days. They had clothed him, fed him, found him a bed, been nothing but supportive and friendly, and he should be more grateful. He had manners, and he needed to use them.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean that.”
“You did, but it doesn’t matter. I know you are angry at everything, just… Can I ask you a favor?”
“Of course.”
“Look past the Ceithin you see and make allowances for his dented pride. No Cariad has ever been held by the Council, apart from Ceithin and possibly Trystyn. Ceithin is a strong man, and the whole foundation of what he is, his strength, has been rocked.”
“I don’t know—”
“For me?” She blinked, her dark brown eyes filled with emotion, and part of the shield around Darach’s heart simply cracked. He might want a man in his bed, but when a woman threw a dewy-eyed melted-chocolate gaze at him, he was lost.
“I will.”
* * * * *
Darach was the one who found Ceithin in the end. He didn’t have to look far. The older man was at the damned pool, naked from the waist up, dressed in little below the waist. His movements were smooth as he pulled and pushed at the water. Slicing his way through, he swam from one end of the splash pool to the other. Darach stood and watched for a while, then with a mischievous grin, he created a whirling barrier Ceithin swam straight into, surfacing with spluttered curses.
Darach laughed. For the first time in months, he had actually laughed, and did it so hard he doubled over. His laughter echoed with the same sound he had shared with Kian and Eoin, and it was a damned nice feeling. Ceithin clambered out of the water, and Darach tried not to stare even as the laughter died in his throat. He hadn’t acted on his attraction to men, but were he to do that, and if Ceithin wasn’t such a total bastard, then the man standing half-naked in front of him would be Darach’s idea of physical perfection.
He blamed his staring on the fascination he had for the water dripping down Ceithin’s body. He certainly wasn’t looking at the muscles defined by real exercise or the slim waist or broad shoulders. It was just the water.
“Cyngor cŵn bach!” Ceithin swore, and Darach just snorted laughter again.
“Council puppy? You can’t do any better than that, Cariad?”
Ceithin ignored the comeback and stalked past him, scarlet sparks on his skin, and Darach swayed toward him as his blue answered the temper.
“Don’t you have something you need to say to me?”
Ceithin stopped and turned on his heel, pushing his dripping hair away from his face and holding it back. “They said I should apologize.”
“For what?” Oh gods, he was enjoying this one.
Ceithin’s gaze slipped to one side briefly, and then he looked directly at Darach. Deadly serious. Ceithin sighed dramatically. “I do apologize for dumping you in the pool. I don’t apologize for getting you to feel your element.” Then he shrugged, turned, and left.
Well, that just said it all.