The Elemental Diaries - Complete Series

by Andrea Lamoureux

  I didn’t wait for either of them to object. Air. I needed air. My stomach still rolled.

  I flung the main doors to the palace open. I managed to descend the stairs before I bent over and hurled on a patch of dirt. Wiping my mouth on the back of my hand, I planted my feet and gazed up at the starless sky. Would I be able to live up to my new position? Was I truly an honourable man? Claudia obviously didn’t think so. But why did I care what a dead girl thought? I’d saved my kingdom. I needed to forget about her once and for all.

  I was about to venture back to my room for the night when movement behind the shrubs along a wall of the palace caught my eye. I crept closer and found a hunched old woman, wearing a black cloak, the hood raised to hide her face. A piece of silver hair poked out by her sharp chin.

  “Shh.” She raised a finger to her lips. “Sepheus I—”

  Before she could finish, a pair of lovers stumbled out of the palace giggling, drunk on wine and each other.

  I turned back to where the old woman had been, but she was gone. My brow furrowed. What a strange night.

  Maybe she’d seen me knighted and wanted to ask some sort of favour. I put her from my mind and re-entered the palace.

  Surely tomorrow everything would be normal. Surely my tired mind was only playing jests on me.

  Chapter 13

  The scent of fresh rain danced through the air as I ambled along to the market. Sunshine urged new petals to bud on the flora dotting the lush green grass. Spring had officially opened her arms to Terra, the days lasting longer with each sunrise. I had the day off from soldierly duties. It was too nice to stay inside, and I couldn’t recall the last time I’d been to visit the merchant’s tents full of items begging to be purchased. Cherry blossoms lined the path leading to one of the busiest places in Terra.

  Delicious aromas of spices and incense invaded my nostrils. I strolled casually past tents filled with all sorts of wonderful, glimmering items. An old woman bartered with a seamstress over a piece of rose coloured fabric, while a merchant filled a pouch with cinnamon to hand to a customer. One could spend all day simply observing the activities of others at the place full of bustle.

  I stopped before a weathered man, who I’d have guessed to be in his fifth decade, selling jewellery.

  He set down his polishing rag and a silver chain to greet me. “A necklace for your lady?”

  I shook my head, glancing at the sparkling necklaces laid out on the piece of midnight blue velvet. “I have no lady.” But then a piece of jade, round with symbols etched on its surface stole my attention. It matched the earrings Blaise had worn to the ball perfectly.

  “A beautiful piece,” the merchant commented, picking it up so I could have a closer look. “It’s an amulet of protection. It brings its wearer luck anytime they’re faced with danger.

  “How much?” I was sure Blaise would laugh in my face and tell me she didn’t need an amulet to protect her. Maybe I wouldn’t tell her what it was meant for. Maybe I’d just tell her it was a peace offering. I didn’t believe it would truly bring her good luck anyway. I was sure it was a tactic to convince gullible customers to purchase. Still, I liked the way it looked.

  “Two gold coins.”

  I slipped my hand into my leather pouch and dug out the gold. I handed the coins to him, and he dangled the amulet for me to take. I placed it inside the pouch with the rest of my coins.

  “A pleasure doing business with you, sir,” he said with a bright, crooked-toothed smile.

  I wandered around the rest of the market, squeezing through hordes of people. I had to side step a few times to avoid children who weren’t watching where they were going. One trod on my foot and, when I growled at the young boy, he ran away calling for his mother. I didn’t buy any other items.

  When the sun began descending through the leafy trees, I left the market for home. My mind was lost on thoughts of Blaise and how flattering she’d looked at the ball. The image of her in that gown was burned into my mind.

  A bony hand gripped the upper part of my arm, pulling me back to reality. The old woman I’d seen outside the ball peered at me from beneath her deep black hood. Her cloak hung off her like ominous black smoke. Her golden eyes bore into mine as though she could read my thoughts. She reminded me of the witches I’d witnessed people rush away from.

  “What do you want?” I asked her, an icy edge creeping into my tone.

  “I know who you are.” Her voice was rough and harsh, a sound which would haunt my memory forever.

  I pulled my arm from her grasp and snapped. “No, you don’t. Stop following me.”

  She pointed a gnarly finger tipped with a long yellowed nail at me. “The boy born into bloodshed has a darkened heart.”

  “Born into bloodshed? You have the wrong person.” She probably knew I was the son of Cedric Lequerc. Of course the son of a torturer would be born into bloodshed. I wasn’t about to reveal anything about my life to her though.

  I backed away, but she whispered eerie words in a language I didn’t understand and I found I couldn’t move.

  I could see her smile from within her hood. “You have magic like I, yes?”

  “No,” I denied. “So you are a witch.”

  “Shh,” she hushed me, watching a pair of ladies pass by. “I’m more than a witch. I’m family… blood.”

  My mind whirled at those last words. Could she be telling the truth? My father hadn’t told me about anyone in my family other than my mother, and I did have magic. Maybe I’d inherited it from this old witch. I took a step back and realized I could move again. The spell had worn off. A weak spell.

  “Come to my cottage tomorrow, east of this kingdom. Follow Willowing Creek until you reach a clearing. Keep going until you see my old carcass of a cottage. I will tell you everything there, son of Cedric.”

  “You know my father,” I stated. Could I trust this witch? It could be a trap.

  “I know Cedric, and I know you.”

  “Why not just tell me now? Why try to lure me to your home?” I questioned.

  I imagined she was pursing her thin lips from beneath her hood. She jerked toward a trio of men ambling by, sharing in some jest. “Too many prying ears here,” she rasped.

  I stayed silent for a moment, thoughtful. I needed to know who she really was and what she wanted. I wouldn’t go unarmed. She was only an old woman after all. If she really wanted to harm me with magic… well, I had magic too. “All right, witch, I’ll come find you.”

  She smiled again, and I caught a glimpse of narrow, pointy teeth.

  I left her to go fill my stomach.

  I played with the shiny silver chain of the amulet that night in my room. The exquisite piece of green jade reminded me of a lake I’d once seen in the forest. Surely Blaise would appreciate such remarkable craftsmanship. Any other lady would swoon over such a gift. Blaise wasn’t like other ladies though. Maybe I would tell her it was a token of good luck. Surely a warrior could appreciate such a symbol.

  I dropped the amulet back into my leather pouch. Tomorrow, after I visited the witch, I’d give Blaise her gift. It would be a new beginning for us. Friendship. Did I hope we might eventually become more? It was something I wasn’t ready to admit. Even to myself.

  I followed Willowing Creek east as the witch had instructed. The map reading Constable Bouvant had taught me paid off. I stopped and took in a breath of fresh air as the forest opened up to a field of long grass rippling in the wind. In the near distance, lay a small, wooden cottage with a porch at the front. Weeds pushed their way up around the small home, claiming the territory as theirs. Grasshoppers and birds sang duets to the rising yellow sun.

  I stepped up onto the porch, careful not to tread on any of the rotten boards. I knocked loudly, using the iron door-knocker shaped like the head of some sort of demonic creature.

  The floor from within the cottage creaked before the door opened widely, revealing the old witch.

  Her tanned face crinkled like crumpled p
archment as she smiled at me. Her lips pale and thin made her pointy teeth look even longer. But her eyes… her eyes were sharp, like two golden pools filled with wisdom. Her smile was meant to be warm. Others would have found it menacing.

  “Welcome to my home, my grandson,” the witch said, making enough space for me to enter.

  I stepped inside, that last word echoing in my mind. Grandson.

  She offered me a seat in a rickety old chair and handed me a mug of something dark reddish-brown. I sniffed the mug’s contents and winced. It smelled strong. I didn’t trust her enough to believe it wasn’t poisoned. The shelf in a corner of the room held containers which I imagined were full of potions, poultices and poisons.

  “It’s safe to drink, I promise,” she assured me as though she’d read my mind. When I still didn’t take a sip, she took it from me and tasted it herself. “See.”

  “Point proven.” I accepted the mug back and asked, “Sorry, did you call me grandson?”

  She sat across from me and folded her wrinkled hands. She wasn’t wearing that awful cloak today. Instead, she’d dressed herself in a loose white dress, yellowed in places with age. The hollows of her cheeks were sunken, and the thin skin under her eyes made it appear as though she had twin purple bruises. Her golden eyes held a kindness as she confirmed, “I did.”

  I took a sip of the drink and immediately spat it out with a cough. “Oh! That’s horrible.” I set the mug down and pushed it away. “What is that?”

  She chuckled. “It’s only wine. I make it myself.”

  “It’s strong.”

  “That’s what I like about it.” She smacked her palm on the table between us and cackled.

  I shivered; the taste of alcohol still strong on my tongue. “We are unalike in that sense at least. So, tell me, are you my father’s mother?”

  She put her chin in her hand and replied, “No. I’m your mother’s mother. You’re father isn’t really your father—”

  “That’s madness!” I cut her off. “You must be jesting. My father is the only family I have.”

  She put up a hand as I was about to rise from my chair. “Hear me out. You may leave when I’m finished telling you what you need to know.”

  I sank back into my chair. Fine. I’d see what other kind of insanity the witch could concoct.

  She pinned me with her eyes and went on. “My name is Maud Lequerc. Otta, your mother, was my daughter. Cedric is my son. He’s not your father. He is your uncle.”

  “How can this be?” The chair scraped across the floor as I pushed it away from the table.

  “I will explain.” She said, annoyed with my interruptions. “Your mother was in love with King Lelund. He had taken her as his mistress against Queen Vivienne’s wishes. They kept it a secret from the jealous queen for as long as they could, but eventually she found out. King Lelund had to send Otta away to appease his wife, but he still visited her often. The king told your mother he loved only her, but being a king complicated their relationship. When your mother became pregnant with you, almost nineteen springs ago, King Lelund stopped coming to see your mother.”

  Maud closed her eyes and sighed deeply before continuing. “I knew your mother was heartbroken. I tried to console her when she came to see me, but she stole poison from my home in the kingdom and used it on herself after she gave birth to you.”

  I don’t know when my jaw had dropped. “But—but that’s not at all what my father told me about my mother. He said she was a whore who’d died giving birth to me. This tale of yours can’t be true.”

  “Otta’s maid found her dead on the floor with you crying in her bedchamber. She brought you to me. I knew I didn’t have it in me to raise another child. So I took you to Cedric and asked him to raise his sister’s baby. Queen Viv realized King Lelund had been in love with your mother when he fell into a depressed state after her death. She killed him in her rage and was executed for it. My son and I were the only ones who knew the truth of Queen Viv’s rage—until now.”

  I ran my hands down my face. “No. This can’t be true. Queen Vivienne lost her mind. She wasn’t jealous of some love affair. King Lelund was a good king. My father loved him.”

  “He was a good king. He just wasn’t a good husband.”

  I stood up so quickly my chair crashed to the floor. “Why are you telling me this? And why now?”

  She placed her hands on the table and bowed her head, wisps of silver hair falling around her worn face. “You deserve to know the truth. You have royal blood in your veins and magic. You must be careful which path you choose to follow.”

  “This—this is too much.” I raised both my hands and backed toward the door. “I need to speak with my father—my uncle… whoever he is!”

  She got up off her chair too, but she didn’t try to stop me. “I understand. You may leave if you like, but I’d prefer if you sat with me a while longer. Don’t you wish to hear more about your mother?”

  I closed my eyes and counted my breaths. When I had calmed my racing heart, I opened my eyes and set the chair back upright. I sat down. “What was she like?”

  “Sweet—beautiful. Your mother had a good heart. So did your father.” She got up and replaced my wine with water.

  I took a long drink then asked, “Do you think she loved me?”

  My grandmother’s face softened as she placed her hand on mine. “I know she did. She was so broken when she had you though. But yes, she loved you.”

  Her words warmed my heart. I believed her. Why would she make her story up? My father was the one who’d deceived me. I pulled my hand away. “Why did you give me to my fa—to Cedric? You must have known he was a torturer.”

  She folded her hands in her lap and told me honestly, “I knew Cedric was a torturer, you’re right. But I didn’t think he’d subject you to his work. He was once a soldier you know? An honourable man. Not that there isn’t honour in forcing answers from our enemies, but he’s let it blacken his heart so much, he may as well be working for the Dark Lord.”

  I hissed at her opinion. Is that what she thought of me too? “We—he does his work in the name of Celestia. For the good of the kingdom.”

  “Yes, but love resides in him no longer. Only hate. I don’t want you to end up like him.”

  I realized I agreed with her. I didn’t wish to end up like him either. I gave her a slight smile and said, “I should go. Thank you for telling me the truth… about my mother.”

  She pushed herself to her feet, age slowing her down. “If you ever wish to visit, you’re always welcome in my home.”

  I gave her knarled hand a light squeeze. “Thank you.” I left her standing in the cottage as old as she, if not older.

  I thought about everything my grandmother had told me on my return. I couldn’t be an heir to the throne. I didn’t want the throne. The illegitimate bastard of a dead king would never be accepted by the people of Terra anyways. Still, I’d had a right to know. By the time I reached the stables and handed my mount over to a stable boy, anger had crept back up on me.

  I found my father inside his room, scratching words on a piece of parchment at his wide oak desk.

  I stomped up beside him. “Hello, Father. Or should I say, Uncle?”

  Chapter 14

  My father… my uncle set down his feather pen and twisted to stare at me. “Excuse me?”

  “That’s right,” I challenged. “Your mother, Maud, told me everything.”

  “Did she?” He rose from his chair, slowly.

  “My whole life is a lie, isn’t it?”

  But he didn’t answer. He grabbed his cloak off a hook on the wall and strode for the front door.

  “Where are you going? Tell me the truth.” I followed him.

  He slammed the door in my face, leaving me alone with no answers.

  “Goddess dammit!” I slammed my fist into the wall, feeling pain tear across my knuckles. I ignored the wet sensation of blood beading on my skin as I wrenched the door open. My father was nowhere
in sight. I headed for the palace. Perhaps he’d gone to speak with King Corbin—who was also my uncle. He could never know who my true father was. He’d view me as a threat even though I didn’t want his throne.

  Blaise stood on guard duty outside of the throne room. She blocked me from the giant double doors. “Seph, what’s wrong?”

  I ground my teeth and then tried to rein my temper in as I asked, “Is my father in there? Let me pass.”

  She stood firm. “No, I haven’t seen him today.” Her eyes flicked to my wounded hand. “Sepheus! Your hand! It’s bleeding!”

  I tucked my bleeding hand under my other arm. “It’s fine.”

  “At least wrap it up so you don’t get blood everywhere,” she shot back. When I didn’t move, she sighed and tore off a piece of the bottom of her surcoat. She held out her hand. “Here, let me see it.”

  I hesitated before letting her take my hand in hers. She studied the wound for a moment then clucked, wrapping the piece of material around it and tying it. “So are you going to tell me what’s going on or not?”

  “It’s none of your business, Blaise.”

  Hurt flashed in her eyes. “Sorry for caring.”

  I took a deep breath. This wasn’t how I’d wanted my peace offering with her to start. “No, I’m sorry. I—” I reached inside my cloak to pull out the pouch with the amulet in it, but it was gone. My brow creased with confusion. I must have lost it between the palace and Maud’s cottage. “Never mind. I’ve misplaced something.”

  She snickered. “Were you about to offer me a gift?”

  “Maybe I was. You’ll never know now.”

  Her eyes grew rounder. “Why?” she asked, incredulously.

  “It was nothing. Just some sort of symbol I thought you’d appreciate as a fellow warrior.”

  “Oh.” She looked away and then smiled up at me. “Care to spar? I’m almost finished guard duty here.”