Hidden Fire
DEIRDRA EDEN
Hidden Fire By Deirdra Eden
Book 2 of The Watchers Series
Copyright © 1997-2019 Deirdra Eden
Published by Deirdra Eden in association with Eden Literary, LLC
Printed in the U.S.A.
Cover Design by Eden Literary, LLC
Special graphics AKaiser/Shutterstock.com
Image copyright tanatat/Shutterstock.com and Vangelis76/Shutterstock.com
All Rights Reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or otherwise, without written permission from the author except in the case of brief quotations as credited to the author.
Hidden Fire/Deirdra Eden
Text type was set in Garamond
Book 1
Knight of Light
Book 2
Hidden Fire
Book 3
Flood and Fire
Book 4
To Capture the Wind
Book 5
White Dragons
Book 6
The Silver Phoenix
Book 7
Night of Light
Dedicated To:
My dear husband, Leif.
The Watchers books wouldn't be as romantic
or exciting without you in my life to inspire me.
Chapter One
The Resister
England - 1276 A.D.
A few years after Auriella’s knighting.
The Shadow Legion’s stink of decay and burning sulfur washed over me like the perfume of death.
The candles around the tub flickered. I pulled the silk robe tighter around my naked body. The cloth clung to the back of my wet legs. I searched the mirror’s reflection, keeping my breath steady.
From behind the curtains, the Shadow Lord’s hungry eyes flashed in the mirror and fixed on me. His gaze revealed a lust to steal the power running through my blood. It didn’t matter how many Watchers the Shadow Legion killed—their feral craving for power could never be satisfied.
I watched the creature in the mirror. The severely decaying body was a sign of his desperate state. His bulging eyes were wide open, like someone had pinned back his eyelids with sewing needles.
I whirled to face him. There was nothing but a breeze blowing through the curtains of the open window. The lamplights enhanced the wall of steam floating from the tub and across the stone floor. I tried to see through the shroud of eerie fog.
The curtains shifted unnaturally. I narrowed my eyes. “There you are.” My skin tingled as heat burst from my heart and traveled through my veins. I stretched out my hand, releasing the adrenaline-charged surge of energy in the direction of the Shadow Lord. The curtains erupted in flames and dropped to the ground in a smoldering heap.
The explosion briefly distorted the light in the room, making the oil lamps look like dim stars around the sun. Footsteps pounded across the ceiling. My hands tightened into flaming fists. I hated these creatures’ ability to scale walls and skitter across the ceiling like spiders. The next strike could come from anywhere.
I pressed my back against the stone wall. I scanned the ceiling and searched the dark corners for the Shadow Lord. Neither of us had the element of surprise now. The flames that crowned the candles around the tub danced, making the shadows flicker. I tightened my jaw, clenching it so hard that my ears popped.
A blade whistled metallically through the air as it propelled toward me. I lunged as it glinted past me. Copper sparks scattered as the weapon struck stone. The dagger spun across the floor, whirling like a top from the momentum of the throw.
Flames shot up my arms and danced across my skin. “Are you afraid to face me?” I challenged. I wanted to get this fight over with. If I was late to another of the king’s victory celebrations, he would probably have me hanged.
It wasn’t like I planned these attacks; they always came with very little warning. I had thought for sure I would be safe in my own washroom. The Shadow Legion hated water and avoided it at all cost. Of course, water was my weakness as well. The fire I summoned to protect and heal me couldn’t be wielded under the liquid surface.
The Shadow Lord dropped from the ceiling and snatched the dagger from the floor. I tried not to look startled at his misshapen body. His decaying jaw hung awkwardly from his skull as he tried to smile. His lightless eyes fixed on me—his prey. Strings of dark grey hair hung from his head like oily weeds.
I wrinkled my nose. “You have obviously been in that stolen corpse for far too long.”
The Shadow Lord’s jaw flapped as he spoke. “We don’t have the luxury of being born in human form like you Watchers.” He hissed like a snake.
My foot whipped into his ribs and I heard a sickening crunch.
Adrenaline usually drowned out my body’s cries of pain. For that reason, I avoided combat while barefoot—or in a bathrobe, for that matter. The Shadow Lord crumpled from the strike.
My hands sparked with light to finish the job. His bony hands shot toward my throat like ten fingers of lightning.
His pupils narrowed to a slit as more snake-like features emerged. I would never get used to the look in a rebel’s eyes before they kill. There’s no humanity—only the look of a wild animal driven by carnal appetite.
A stream of flames blasted into his face from my fingers. I didn’t hold back. The decaying flesh melted off his skull. His eyes whirled and then dropped from their sockets. I cringed at the rancid smell of burning flesh and held my breath. The corpse hit the ground, and the shadowy spirit of the rebel floated above the scorched remains.
I had seen dozens of dark souls like this one. As much as I wanted to destroy these disembodied Shadows, I couldn’t. Blades and fire just passed right through them.
The ghostly form floated toward me. Its movements were slow in its acceptance of temporary defeat, but its unbeatable pride showed through in its burning sulfuric eyes. I held perfectly still as the Shadow leaned over my shoulder and whispered in my ear, “There is nothing you can do. Why keep fighting? In the end, all Watchers and the humans you protect will be destroyed.”
I wasn’t going to be intimidated. “The smallest flame will stand out in a dark room, but no darkness can survive in the light.” An inferno of heat billowed off my shoulders as a visual statement. “As long as there is at least one Watcher on Earth, there is still hope that Erebus will be defeated.”
“We shall see.” The Shadow’s eyes smoldered before he seeped into the floor, leaving me alone in my charred washroom.
Now that I didn’t have to hold my tough composure, I dropped my shoulders and wrapped my robe tighter across my chest.
Through my bare window, the night sky glittered with blue stars. I didn’t remember Neviah, but every time I looked at the sky, I felt home sick. Being courageous can be very lonely.
I closed my eyes to take in a deep cleansing breath, but coughed out the smell of burnt flesh that still lingered in the room.
For the most part, I kept my powers under control so my clothes didn’t burn. I assessed the damaged curtains, burn marks on the walls, and pile of ash on the floor.
“Great.” I dropped my hands to my sides. This wasn’t going to make anyone in the castle happy. I didn’t look forward to begging for forgiveness over another victorious battle.
King Henry had esteemed me as England’s Divine Protector. However, after the king’s death, his son, Edward, had changed the way the castle was run. Edward saw me as a fashion accessory to have at his side during feasts and celebrations.
“Oh no!” I shouted and clenched my hair in my hands. “The celebration!”
I shut the washroom door behind me and raced down the hallway line
d in royal-crested banners to my bedroom where my handmaid waited. No doubt I would be late again. In my mind, I could already see King Edward’s look of disapproval. I hated the way he clicked his tongue at me as if I were a child and not a nineteen-year-old lady.
“There you are, Lady Auriella.” My handmaid, Eleanor, used a chiding tone that preceded a lecture. “The celebration is about to start, and you’re not dressed. We still need to pin up your hair, and you know it takes twice as long to tame those wild, red waves of yours.”
I submitted myself to being dressed and primped. Hopefully, I could get on everyone’s good side before I confessed my fire slaying deed.
Eleanor escorted me to the vanity and forced me to sit in the chair. I could tell she was in a hurry by the way she pulled on my hair and dug the pins into my scalp. I tried to smile pleasantly and not show any sign of discomfort.
She slowed her pace slightly as she decorated my hair with beads and made sure each lock was in its place.
“Did you fall asleep in the bath-tub?” Eleanor asked.
“No,” I answered and cringed at the sound of guilt lacing my voice. From the mirror I watched Eleanor’s expression harden.
“Did you get into another fight?” she asked through tight lips. I was sure she already knew the answer.
I dropped my shoulders and nodded.
“Is there ash in the washroom?”
I sank lower in the chair and nodded again.
Eleanor shook her head. “The maids aren’t going to be happy with you. What did you destroy this time?”
I bit my lower lip to avoid smiling. “A Shadow Lord.” I tried not to sound too sheepish or too proud. After all, it was my duty to protect England from the Shadow Legion.
“Don’t speak of such horrible nonsense. There’s no such thing. If you didn’t have the king’s protection, you would have been executed on the grounds of witchcraft for using your fire.”
“I’m not a witch,” I mumbled under my breath.
The subject aroused anxiety and distain. Witches use their powers for selfish reasons. Watchers use their gifts to protect others.
Eleanor pulled on my hair to make me sit up straight. “Hold still.” She didn’t hide the irritation in her voice. “I want to know what you destroyed in the washroom. You better not have broken any more mirrors.”
“It was a pretty quick fight. At least there’s no blood to clean up.” I tried to sound positive. After all, I had done a good thing.
“I hope you left the curtains intact.”
I swallowed so loud I thought for sure Eleanor heard me. Eleanor frowned. I couldn’t hide my guilt.
She finished placing the last few beaded clips into my hair. “I doubt even your abilities can save you from the seamstress’s wrath once she finds out about the curtains.” Eleanor shook her head. “I swear that woman is part Viking.”
I cringed and started strategizing tactics to avoid everyone in the castle, especially the seamstress.
Eleanor didn’t look sympathetic. “Now come to the bedpost so I can tighten your corset.”
I groaned. My body was already stiff with stress. “How about we skip the corset this time? It’s worse than wearing armour on a hot day.”
Eleanor let out a fluttery laugh that wasn’t meant to be attractive. “Anyone who can wear armour can wear a whale-boned corset.”
I raised my eyebrow and challenged, “Anyone?” The thought of the knights of England wearing corsets during training made me giggle. The stress started to melt away as I laughed.
Eleanor laughed with me. “Well, not anyone. We’d have better luck strapping a corset to one of your Shadow Lords before strapping one onto a man.”
I gripped the bedpost and laid my head against the wood while Eleanor wrapped the torture device around me and pulled back on the strings. “Now exhale,” she said.
When I exhaled, Eleanor cinched the corset tighter, pushing my bust unnaturally high and crushing my ribs. “Not too tight, Eleanor.” I intentionally slouched so the corset couldn’t be fastened so tightly that it would prevent me from eating the roast and pies I had seen earlier in the kitchen.
Eleanor fought against me and jerked back on the corset laces. “It’s time to start dressing and acting like a lady. I know you have duties and all, but you’re frightening the suitors.”
My hands molded to the shape of bedpost as I squeezed against the pain. “Am I?”
I considered myself a friendly person. Most of the knights and guards I trained with seemed to enjoy my company. I knew there were a few who were interested in courting me, but I usually managed to avoid them. King Edward made it perfectly clear that men only saw my pretty face and feminine shape. No human man would accept me for what I really was.
“You’re too intimidating,” Eleanor declared. “That’s why the lords and knights shy away from you. You’re nineteen, still unmarried, and without prospects. You have all the beauty of a queen, but you need to be more vulnerable.”
I gasped from more than just the pressure of the corset. “Vulnerable? Tonight in the washroom, I’d never felt more vulnerable in my life. I hadn’t noticed the rebel until it was almost too late. I was completely distracted by my day-dream about . . .” I stopped and swallowed hard. I didn’t want to bring up my dead fiancé. I still had nightmares about his death.
“So that’s the real reason why you’ve been scaring away the suitors.” Eleanor hummed like she’d discovered some deep, dark secret. “It’s that boy, the one who was killed on the crusade.”
“I guess.” My voice dropped to a whisper to hide the surfacing emotions. “I wish I knew what happened to him. All I received was a formal letter saying he had been killed.”
I tried to imagine what Lucas would look like if he were still alive. He would be twenty-three now. King Edward had only been a prince at the time he led the crusaders. I would never admit it aloud, but part of me resented that Edward returned, when so many of the men he led had not.
My gaze lowered to nothing in particular. “The crusaders never brought back his body. We didn’t even have a memorial because his mother died a few days after we were informed of his death.” I glanced at the drawer where I hid my enchanted ruby necklace. If only Lady Hannah had worn it, she would still be alive.
“Poor dear.” Eleanor patted my hand. “After all these years, you still haven’t found closure. War is a horrible place to be.” She shook her head. “But the wives who suddenly become widows, the children who become fatherless, and the sweethearts who will never love again are the real victims.”
I blinked several times to force back tears. Her words stabbed my soul. Was I really doomed to never love again?
Eleanor faced me. “You can’t keep looking behind you, Auriella. You need to set your sights straight ahead of you. It’s been years since Lucas died. It’s time to move on.”
The corset prevented me from taking a deep breath. I looked out the balcony doors at the night sky instead. Perhaps it was true that I was creating my own tragedy by refusing to move on, but I wasn’t sure I really could move on. Maybe I believed that no one would ever love me as much as Lucas. Maybe I was afraid of betraying the deceased since I still felt loyalty to him.
“Now, which dress should you wear?” Eleanor pulled open the wardrobe doors and laid several dresses on the bed.
“The indigo and silver one.” I pointed to the last dress King Henry gave me before he died.
“Are you sure? This dress makes your hair look even redder.”
I put my hands on my hips and tried not to laugh at Eleanor’s serious, yet ridiculous, statement. “There’s nothing wrong with having red hair.”
Eleanor shook her head. “People will think you have a temper.”
I gave her a mock scowl.
“Very well,” Eleanor surrendered. She tossed the dress over my head and laced up the back. I adjusted the cloth and strapped my sword to my side.
Eleanor’s fingers strained as if she wanted to snatch the
sword away from me. She probably would have if she had not been afraid to touch a weapon. “You cannot take a sword to the celebration. No man will ask you to dance.”
“I know you think I am scaring them off, but I’m just filtering out the suitors who lack courage,” I said and really meant it.
“At least you’d be filtering out the sober ones,” Eleanor mumbled. “You have a lot to learn about men, Lady Auriella. You are never going to find a proper husband while you carry a weapon.”
The doors swung open. “Ah, there you are.” King Edward held out his arms and gave me a broad, false smile. Someday that man was going to learn to knock before entering a woman’s chamber. He needed a lesson in chivalry as much as the Rebellion did.
Eleanor and I both curtsied to the king.
“You look splendid, Lady Auriella.” I mechanically held up my hand, and King Edward kissed the top of it. “My lady, I have magnificent news for you. I have filled the position of the captain of the guard.”
“That’s wonderful,” I said, but I really wanted to say, “Finally!” The position had been vacant for several years, ever since I exposed the former captain as a Shadow Legionnaire. After Prince Edward took the throne, finding a new captain for castle security hadn’t been his priority. He focused on battles in the surrounding countries. His dream was to see all the Britannia Isles, including Scotland and Ireland, united under his rule.
“The new captain arrives tonight,” Edward said. “I’m sure he will want to meet with you, if he’s not busy with more important matters.” I tried not to look insulted at Edward’s suggestion that it wouldn’t be important for the new captain to meet with me, the warrior who had protected the castle for the last few years.
Edward continued, “I told him you are a Watcher who guards us from all things unholy.” He lifted his nose. “The new captain is not a superstitious man. He wants to make sure you are legitimate.”