More than that, he wanted to ease the pain and knew there was no way to soothe what he heard. No words could undo this. No magick.
By the time Falcyn got there, Blaise was on his knees, cradling Emrys’s body in his arms. He winced at the sight of them entwined, at the way Blaise wept while he held the man he considered his father. But what hurt most was the knowledge that his own blood would never mourn for him to that depth.
Yet Falcyn would be far more devastated if something ever happened to Blaise. That he’d been even more inconsolable after Max had divided him from Maddor. And that was what burned so deep right now.
He’d cried those tears for thousands of years. Had howled and cursed for his son, while his soul and heart had bled from a wound that no amount of anything could heal.
Damn them all for this!
Regretting his past more than ever before, he forced himself to kneel by Blaise’s side and hold him. “I’m sorry.”
“How can he be dead?” Blaise choked on the words. “He was so powerful.”
Falcyn had no idea. But even the gods could fall. All it took was one misstep. One enemy more lethal. He glanced around at the destruction. From the remnants and smears of blood all around, it was obvious that Emrys had put up a vicious fight for his life. “Where’s Nimue?”
That succeeded in distracting Blaise.
“She would never leave him to battle on his own.” He laid Emrys down gently on the stone floor, then moved to search the room. “Nimue?”
They looked about for her body. There was no sign of her anywhere.
Until Falcyn heard a soft moan off in the distance.
Together, they ran to the small courtyard in the back. At first, they saw nothing. But then Falcyn realized that the light on the far wall wasn’t really a light.
Nor was it a shadow.
It was Nimue encased in the wall. She appeared as a textured painting, or a thick fresco.
What the hell?
Scowling, Blaise went to stand before her faded image. “Nimue? Can you hear me?”
Opening her eyes, she choked as she saw the two of them. Blood dripped from the corner of her mouth. I hear you, but I’m dying. Her lips didn’t move at all. For all intents and purposes, she appeared lifeless already.
“What happened?” Blaise ran his hand over her stony arm and sleeve as if seeking a way to break through whatever magick held her trapped in the wall.
Gallu came. We weren’t strong enough to fight them. They wielded some form of magick we’ve never seen before. Something older than Merlin knew.
“No!”
A tear ran from the corner of her eye and froze halfway down her cheek to become a solid pebble on the wall. Listen to me, Blaise. Merlin loved you … as do I. You were always considered as his true son. Just as Arthur. Now we need you to pull the stone from his ring and use it to free the dragons Morgen imprisoned beneath her castle.
“I don’t understand.”
The dragon’s breath of Camelot? It’s made by them. The real dragons of old. The ones she used to make the mandrakes. If they are left unguarded, she can awaken them now that he’s dead, and enslave them for her battles. Emrys is no longer here to protect them from her or to keep her from using them in her army. You must do this for him, otherwise the world of Man will crumble and all we have sacrificed for will be for naught.
“Why didn’t he free the dragons?”
They would have killed him for what he did to them. He didn’t dare risk their wrath. Please, dearest! You must … Her voice trailed off as she expelled one deep breath and froze completely.
“Nimue!” Blaise shouted, pounding his fist against the wall.
It was too late.
She was gone.
Falcyn shook his head. “She wants us to free a bunch of pissed-off dragons? Awesome.”
Blaise didn’t comment. He stood completely still as if he were catatonic from the loss, and that made Falcyn feel like a total insensitive shit. Wanting to comfort him, he reached out and pulled him into his arms.
The fact that Blaise didn’t protest his hug told him exactly how much pain Blaise was in. In fact, he laid his head on his shoulder like a child—something he’d never done before.
Fisting his hand in Blaise’s white hair, Falcyn held him with a knot in his stomach as he resented every year Igraine and Narishka had stolen from him and his child and grandchild. Damn them to hell for this. He should have been there for Maddor and Blaise. Neither should have ever known a moment of mockery. A moment of pain. He’d have beaten the hell out of anyone who’d harmed them.
And damn Max for it all.…
It was so unfair. Closing his eyes, he felt his god powers surging in a way they hadn’t done in centuries. Dormant powers he’d let atrophy because he hadn’t cared what happened to himself. Hadn’t cared what happened to the world or to Max. Everything he’d loved had been taken and so he’d learned to live in the state of Fuck It All.
Now, he felt a bitter rebirth as old emotions were awakened inside him.
Not with a gentle touch. But with an acid drenching.
And there was nothing he could do to stop it.
Medea froze as she came into the room and saw the anguish on Falcyn’s face and the way he held on to Blaise. She blocked the door to give them privacy as the others started to enter the hall. They both needed this. Blaise to grieve and Falcyn to hold his child for the first time in his life.
It was several minutes before Blaise pulled away and wiped at his eyes.
“You okay?” Falcyn’s voice was barely audible.
Blaise nodded as he cleared his throat. He blushed the minute he realized Medea was there and that she’d seen his weakness.
Wanting to comfort him, she walked over and kissed his cheek. “I would never judge you.”
“Thank you.” He went to join the others, who were finally coming into the ancient hall.
Her own eyes moist, she reached up to brush her hand through Falcyn’s hair. “Are you okay?”
“I’m always fine.”
“You really think I’m going to buy that bullshit?”
His facade cracked. A sudden light flickered deep in his eyes that betrayed his divine birth, and it sent a shiver over her. How odd. She knew the powerful origins of her father and grandfather. Yet neither of them had ever scared her.
But right here. Right now …
Falcyn did.
This wasn’t the gentle dragon who’d made love to her. This was the ancient war god Veles that the fiercest ancient warriors had made blood sacrifices to before leading their armies into battle.
Something about him had changed in the last few minutes. He was a very different beast.
Even stronger than before.
More fierce.
Medea swallowed hard. “What is in your head?”
“That no one hurts my grandson like this with impunity. They want a war.… I’m here to give it.”
Smoke actually came out of his nostrils.
Oh yeah, Kessar had awakened a sleeping beast in Falcyn. She arched a brow at that. “Nice trick.”
“I don’t scare you at all, do I?”