It was fitting that Lyanna lay here. Among the long-dead of the Al-Drechar, the Keepers of the One magic. Lyanna should have been the first of a new generation, would have been had the memories of those past not been betrayed by the four that had still lived when she and Erienne had arrived on Herendeneth.
Erienne had come here with such hope. That Lyanna would be schooled to accept the power within her. That the colleges would understand that her little girl could be slave to none of them. That she must be left alone with her teachers to realise her potential and, more importantly, to live.
But the colleges were greedy for her power or, failing that, anxious she be killed. Erienne’s own college of Dordover had allied with witch hunters to find her and Lyanna and see them both dead. Xetesk had pledged support but their motives had little to do with Erienne’s desires and everything to do with lust for power and knowledge.
And then, at the very last, when victory had seemed within their grasp, when The Raven had seemed triumphant, the ultimate betrayal had taken her beautiful dancing child from her. They, the Al-Drechar, had decreed that Lyanna should die. They had decided her little body couldn’t contain the One magic growing within her. And they had decided this entity, which Erienne had discovered to be independent of her daughter, should be transferred to her mind, killing the child in the process.
She glanced down at the ruins of the house. Two of them still lived. Elven witches who by rights should be dead but who The Raven now protected. She knew why and even sometimes confessed to herself they were right but she hated them all for it anyway.
A wave of guilt broke through her mind and her song faltered
even as the tears threatened behind her eyes. But she hated no one more than herself. After all, everything that had happened was as a direct result of what she had wanted. Gods, she’d even slept with Denser that first time to conceive a child she felt might have the potential to develop the One magic.
Everything had gone according to her plan but the One had proved too strong, too chaotic. Impossible to control. In Dordover, they had made the mistake of awakening the magic in a mind too young to cope. That was why Erienne had run to Herendeneth. But Erienne’s sin was far, far worse. For too long, she had ignored the fact that there was a child as well as an ancient magical talent awakening, so consumed was she by the potential of Lyanna. She had only been a little girl. And no one, not even her mother, had given her either choice or chance.
Erienne broke and wept, head buried in her hands, her body rocking backwards and forwards as the grief, guilt, hate and love stormed through her, robbing her of any coherent thought. Images of Lyanna skipping in the orchard overlaid those of her tiny, still, blue-tinged body, lying on the kitchen floor. She heard Lyanna in her head, snatches of laughter and innocent questions. She could smell her body, clean after a bath, and sense the love in those beautiful eyes shining out, unconditional, trusting. Betrayed.
She heaved in a breath and sobbed out her sorrow, her lips moving, her voice choked. Nothing could bring her back. Nothing would ease the agony, the longing and the loss. And Erienne’s only peace was that Lyanna would be with her murdered sons. Her wonderful twin boys, long-gone but never forgotten. At least she wasn’t alone.
Erienne felt a hand on her shoulder and heard Denser crouch by her, silent.
‘Get away from me,’ she hissed.
‘No, love,’ said Denser, his voice soft but determined. ‘Lean into me.’
‘You can’t help me,’ she said. Every day the same. The words might be different but the sense never changed. ‘Leave us alone.’
‘No, I won’t,’ said Denser, insistent. ‘I pledged that I would never leave you. Let me into you. Just try.’
Erienne shook her head, too tired to argue. At least his appearance had stopped her tears for now. She wiped her face with the backs of her hands, accepting the clean cloth square Denser pushed into her left hand to wipe her eyes.
‘Thank you,’ she said.
‘Any time,’ he said. ‘I’ll always be here, whenever you need me.’ Denser moved a little closer, putting his arm around her shoulders. Erienne tensed, wanting to push him away but knowing