by H. E. Barnes
The Ebb of Winter
The Seasons Book One
H. E. Barnes
Copyright © 2019 by H. E. Barnes
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Created with Vellum
For my family
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Author’s Note
About the Author
Acknowledgments
Chapter 1
In the land of Season
“Quilo, the Winter King, is dead.” The words reverberated around the room.
There was complete silence following Brey’s announcement. No one dared make a sound or move a muscle. As if it would awaken the dead king who laid on his grand bed.
The king’s eyes were closed; his hands clasped tightly together over his chest as if he was praying. Snow filtered in from the drawn window, cascading around him. Carefully landing on his cold body.
“We must call on the Daughters.”
Chapter 2
In the land of Texas
Orla Fletcher sat on the edge of her messy bed. It was dark outside. No light filtered in from the open window, only from the broken lamppost a few steps away at the front of her parents’ house.
A small tick sounded from the window shutters. Orla turned her head to look at the window. Another tick sounded and then another. Orla ran over to look into the dark night.
“Shh,” she called to the two black figures running around outside. “You’re going to wake up my parents,” she hissed.
“Well, hurry up,” Angela called back from behind the bushes lining the property.
Orla threw a leg out of the window and hopped outside, leaving her dark room behind her. She met her two friends on the edge of the front yard. They grabbed her around her shoulders and squealed with delight.
“Happy birthday, Orla,” Samantha said in her ear. Orla covered her ear to try to beat out the echo of their voices, but it was no use.
“Shh,” Orla said trying not to laugh. “My parents are probably still awake. If they catch us...” Orla trailed off.
“No worries,” Angela said pointing off into the distance. Orla followed Angela’s pointed finger and saw the outline of Angela’s car hidden in the woods a few blocks away. “We have a getaway car,” Angela laughed, filling the night air with joy.
The girls ran towards the car. Their heels clicked against the paved road while everyone who lived on the street was safely cocooned in their homes paying no attention to the three girls sneaking away.
Angela hopped into the driver’s seat. “You two go push,” she said.
“Why do we have to push?” Samantha whined.
“Because it’s my car,” Angela said putting the car in neutral and waving to them to start pushing.
“But it’s my birthday,” Orla said rolling her eyes.
“Oh, hush, just push,” Angela laughed. She steered as Orla and Samantha pushed the car further down the road away from Orla’s house. Once they were far enough away, Angela waved to the two other girls. “Get in,” she said while cranking the car.
Orla and Samantha slid into the car. Orla looked back at the outline of her house where her hopefully sleeping parents were.
“Let’s party,” Samantha shouted. Orla threw a hand over her mouth, and Angela burst out in laughter.
“Not yet,” Orla said holding in her own laughter.
“Your parents can’t hear us in here,” Samantha mumbled through Orla’s hand.
“Ew.” Orla took her hand away from Samantha’s mouth and wiped the spit off onto her pants. “You never know,” she said. “Where are we going anyway?”
“It’s a surprise,” Angela and Samantha sang together.
Orla rolled her eyes and sat back into her seat. “You know I hate surprises,” she mumbled with arms across her chest.
“Stop crying,” Angela said shoving Orla’s shoulder lightly. “It’s going to be a great night.”
“You bet it is,” Samantha said. Orla saw Samantha’s big smile from the rearview mirror. She couldn’t help but join in. Knowing her two best friends, Orla was sure she’d have a night to remember.
A few minutes later, Orla faced a nightclub. The sign at the top of the building blinded her as it displayed ‘Club Destiny’ in a confusing array of blinking colors. It made her head hurt just to look at it. She turned to watch Angela and Samantha climb out of the car.
“I hate y’all,” she said as the girls each grabbed one of her arms.
“No you don’t,” they said in unison. “You love us.”
Unfortunately for Orla, they were right. She loved them like sisters. Sisters who knew she didn’t particularly like nightclubs.
They walked up to the bouncer who stood to the side of the big metal door. He looked them up and down. The girls showed him their driver’s licenses. An awkward minute passed as the bouncer looked between the licenses and the girls. Finally, he waved them by after marking their hands with a big, bold ‘X’.
“Let’s do this,” Samantha said pulling Orla onto the dance floor. Orla didn’t try to stop her.
“What time is it?” Orla called out over the loud music.
Angela and Samantha were dancing all around her. She wasn’t sure they heard her, but then they shrugged. Their shoulders lifted with the beat of the music. “Who knows? Just keep dancing,” Samantha called out.
Orla closed her eyes and let the music take over. She didn’t usually dance when they went out, but it was her birthday. So why not?
She felt hands slip over her hips. She was pulled back against a hard body.
Her eyes snapped open and she turned around, whipping whoever it was with her long brown hair. “Oh,” she sighed with relief, “It’s just you.”
“I better be the only one touching you,” Ren said swatting at his face to get her loose hair strands out of his mouth.
Orla laughed and pulled him into a hug. “I didn’t know you were going to be here.”
“Of course. I wouldn’t miss my girl’s birthday,” he said while leaning down and placing a kiss on her lips. She interlaced her hands behind his neck, and they danced in silence, taking in the music together.
The sound of music slowly died in Orla’s ears while she was embraced in Ren’s strong arms. Their breath mixed as they sw
ayed back and forth in unison. His hands burned Orla’s skin where they lay just barely on her hips.
“I love you,” he whispered in her ear. A smile spread the length of her face. She couldn’t believe she had such a perfect man.
“I love you too,” Orla said, hugging him even closer.
“I got you a gift,” he said, pulling her to the side of the dance floor where it was easier to have a conversation. Where the music didn’t overload their senses.
Ren reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box with a ribbon on it. Orla looked from the box, back to him, and back to the box. His chest moved with laughter as he watched her gaze dart back and forth.
“What’s this?” Orla asked, eyeing the box as if it was dangerous.
“What do you think?” he laughed. “Your present. Now open it.”
Orla untangled the ribbon and handed it to Ren. She slowly lifted the top of the box. Inside, cushioned in a nice pillow, was a shiny silver ring. “Ren,” Orla said with a shaky voice.
“Don’t worry,” Ren said. “I’m not proposing.” Orla finally tore her eyes away from the ring to look up at him. “Yet,” he said with a wink.
“Then what’s this for?”
“It’s a promise,” he said with a nervous shrug. He ran a hand through his hair and barely met her eyes.
“A promise of what?” Orla said with a weak voice. She couldn’t decide if she wanted to look at Ren or the beautiful ring in the box.
“Our future.” He took the box from her and slipped the ring out. “I love you,” he said finally meeting her eyes. “And I promise to always love you.” He slid the ring on her finger.
“Ren,” was all she could muster.
They stood in silence as Ren held her. Orla went to close her eyes, but a sparkle from the ground made her open them wide. She reached down to the ground. A small necklace shone brightly against the dark floors of the club. The necklace was warm in her palm as if it had just been taken off someone’s neck. Orla looked around as she stood, but no one seemed to notice a lost necklace.
Suddenly, her eyes got heavy and her head swam. She stumbled against Ren. “You okay?” she heard him ask through her muddled mind.
She tried to nod or say something reassuring, but a great wind landed on her chest and throat making it impossible. Blackness shrouded her vision.
Orla stood in a grand ballroom. The walls were painted in delicate gold and the curtains hung with strands of rubies. She looked around the room, but there was no one to be found.
She walked further into the room, drawn to a great window that let in flickers of snowflakes. They fell onto the marble floor, intact and whole. A chill ran up her spine. It was cold. Cold enough to keep snow from melting.
A rustling turned Orla’s attention to a bed she hadn’t noticed before. A great white drape fell from the ceiling, blocking the view of the bed. Orla could see through the drape to a figure lying on it.
She moved closer to the bed, slowly. Careful not to wake whoever it was. As she glided across the everlasting floor, more figures popped up.
She could just barely make out the outline of four girls surrounding the bed. They were kneeling beside it as if praying. Or maybe waiting for something.
Orla kept walking but got no closer to the four girls or the bed. The room seemed to stretch on forever.
“Quilo, the Winter King, is dead,” she heard a muffled voice say from behind her. Orla turned but saw no one. The words reverberated around the room, echoing in her ears. Making her head pound.
“Orla, are you okay?” Ren’s voice broke through the mud. Orla looked up at him from where she had collapsed on the floor.
She shook the fog from her head and blinked to bring back her sight. “Yeah, yeah I’m okay.” She tried lifting herself off the floor, but her knees shook, and she stumbled again. “I think.”
“Maybe you should get some fresh air?” Ren asked as he lifted her up. He held her by the elbows not trusting her own feet to balance her.
Orla nodded. “Yeah, I think I’ll just head home. I have to work in the morning, anyways.”
“Let me go get the others.”
“No, let them stay. They’re having fun,” she said, pointing to where Samantha and Angela were dancing with a few guys. Ren shook his head at the sight of them but agreed.
He led her outside into the muggy night. A blast of hot wind woke her up and cleared her head. He opened the door of his truck, and she slid into the seat. The truck roared to life.
Orla closed her eyes, her forehead pressed against the window. The truck bumped against the road back to her house. It calmed her, almost made her forget the weird vision she had seen. Almost.
Ren pulled up outside Orla’s house. Orla opened her eyes to see no lights coming from the house. Her parents were asleep.
“Get some rest. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” he said embracing her. She nodded her head and let herself fall into him for a moment. He lifted her chin and kissed her. “I love you, sleep well.”
She opened the door and stumbled out of the truck. She watched as he pulled off the curb. Quietly, she made her way through her front yard and climbed through her window. She closed it behind her.
She collapsed onto her bed, trying not to make too much noise but too tired to care much if she did. She felt the cold silver of the ring Ren had given her against her finger. She shook her head against her pillow. She hadn’t expected a present, let alone a promise ring. But she couldn’t give it much thought, her head was too full of weird dreams.
Orla’s fingers left the cold silver to hover over the warmth of the necklace she didn’t remember taking from the club. She rubbed the circular necklace mindlessly, tracing the pattern of the tree over and over until she fell into a deep sleep.
Chapter 3
Eira Brown shielded her eyes from the onslaught of the sun. It was too bright, even with the shade provided by the bridge she laid under. She sat up and dusted off her pants. What was once a navy blue were now speckled with grains of sand.
She rubbed a dirty hand through her short hair, stopping at the nape of her neck to stretch out her back. She looked down at the ground. The jacket, the only bed she’d had in a long while, was a crinkly mess much like the rest of her.
She looked around her, taking in the view of the underpass she called home. The stone was cracked and weeds grew through it. The ground was hard and dirty, but it was a lot better than the home she had left many, many years ago. Maybe a little worse than the homeless shelter she got to spend a few years in. But it was what she had, and she made it work.
Eira packed up her few belongings and threw her backpack onto her shoulders. She climbed up the hill and trekked down the highway. It was Friday, and Fridays were bath days.
By the time Eira made it to the house, she was soaked in sweat. Her blonde hair was sticking to her forehead. But she made perfect timing.
From a block away, hiding behind bushes, Eira watched as a family packed up their minivan and drove away from a two-story, blue-shuttered home. Eira knew the home well. It used to be where she lived, but it had never felt like a true home. Nowhere she was placed did.
She waited a few minutes before making her way up the pristine driveway. The driveway was lined with flowers, all perfectly plotted and in order. She snuck around to the back of the house and lifted up the big stone vase that sat beside the back door. She picked up the dirty key and unlocked the back door.
Eira’s foster parents hadn’t changed a thing since she lived there. Everything was stored in its correct space despite the number of kids running around. Her parents, who she never considered family, didn’t let the kids out of their rooms except for mealtime. Or when they had guests and had to put on a show. Eira hated the lies. Eira hated the life she had under their roof.
But, at least now the house was useful for her.
She walked to the stairs, in the middle of the open living and dining rooms, and climbed to the next floor. She stepped onto the
small landing and went down the hall of bedrooms. In the back corner of the house was one small bathroom. A bathroom Eira remembered having to share with four other kids.
She grabbed a towel out of the hall closet and brought it to the bathroom. She didn’t bother locking the door. Or hurrying through her shower. She knew her foster parents wouldn’t be back for hours. On Fridays they dropped the kids off at school and went to spend all of the checks they got from the government. They would come home with bags of new things. But it was never for the kids. Always for them.
Eira shook her head of the thought and stepped out of the shower. She wrapped the towel around her, packed up her dirty clothes, and left the bathroom. She went to her old bedroom.
There were three beds lined on the wall. No privacy. No space. Everything was always shared. Eira much preferred her life now where everything was hers alone. She went to the dressers that lined the opposite wall and found new clothes. New to her.
She got dressed and left. She walked back down the stairs, towards the back of the ground floor. The master bedroom with attached bathroom was huge. Completely different from the rooms upstairs with little space to move around. She went to her foster mother’s dresser. The top drawer was full of gold and diamond jewelry. Surely she wouldn’t miss it, Eira thought as she pocketed a few things randomly.
