She had to stop crying. Deep breath. Another. She stood. “Sometimes love isn’t enough.” She stepped forward and grabbed one of his hands in both of hers. He didn’t pull away. “Oh, Krey, you have dreams as big as this world. And I can’t wait”—a sob broke through, but she kept talking—“I can’t wait to hear all the stories of the amazing things you do. You want to depose the king and then go on to build libraries and universities. I love you for your dreams—no, really, I do!—but I don’t know if I can be part of them. There’s this whole world of peaceful magic out there, and I’ve been trusted with it. That’s where my future is.” Even as she said the words, it felt like a piece of herself clicked into place.
He snatched his hand away. “So it’s just gonna be you and the Well, huh? Hanging out together, doing magic?”
“No, not just me and the Well. I still need friends, Krey. Without—” She had to push the words out. “Without us, I’ll need friends more than ever. I hope you’ll be one of them.”
“Zeisha!” The one-word cry nearly cracked her resolve. His trembling hands reached up and cupped her face. He leaned close, his gaze finding her lips and then her eyes, begging her to kiss him. Like that would fix everything.
Oh, how she wanted to. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered.
“Yeah.” His brows drew together, and he blinked hard. “Me too.” He dropped his hands. Shoulders hunched, he turned and limped away.
Zeisha watched him leave. Just before he reached the street, he stopped and turned, fixing his gaze on her again. He raised his hand. His lips moved, mouthing, Goodbye.
Zeisha held up her own hand, terribly aware of the many mets between them. “Goodbye,” she whispered.
Krey nodded once, lowered his hand, and left.
Zeisha sat on the bench, raised her face to the sky, and let her cries pierce the air. After a long time, her shoulders went still and her tears stopped flowing, leaving her spent and empty.
For several long minutes, she was quiet. Numb. Then a hint of familiar serenity brushed against her spirit. She opened herself to it, and a wave of peace rushed in, deep and rich, flooding every part of her—from her swollen eyes to her broken heart.
Zeisha knew again that all was as it should be.
Epilogue
“Five more!” Ovrun told Krey. “You can do it!”
Krey lowered himself for the first half of a push-up, then collapsed in the grass. “No, I can’t. I don’t know how you do so many. Running is way easier.”
Ovrun laughed, extending a hand and helping Krey sit next to him. “I guess that’s enough for tonight.” He was about to suggest they go to dinner. Then he realized Krey was gazing at nothing, his lips pressed into a frown.
Ovrun dropped a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Hey . . . ready to talk about it?”
Krey shifted his gaze to meet Ovrun’s. “About what?”
Ovrun lifted his brows.
A long sigh exited Krey’s mouth. “I miss her. I see her every day, but I miss her.”
“Of course you do, man. It hasn’t even been three weeks.”
“Longest twenty days of my life.” Krey’s brows knit together as his eyes found whatever point they’d been fixed on before. “Everybody thinks I’m sad, and I am . . . but I’m pissed too. I mean, I left my home to save her from people who were stealing her humanity. And this is what I get? She just wants to be alone? To figure herself out?” He shook his head and turned back to Ovrun. “I’m aware that makes me a massive asshole, by the way. I don’t want to see it that way. But I can’t get it out of my head.”
“You’re not an asshole,” Ovrun said. “But . . . lemme ask you. Would she have been worth saving if she wasn’t your girlfriend?”
Krey shook his head, laughing softly. “Don’t come at me with logic, man. It’s not fair.” After a brief silence, he said, “Of course she would’ve been worth it.”
“Do you think she made a mistake? Breaking up with you?”
Another sigh. “I don’t. She’s changed. I have too. She did what she needed to do.” One of Krey’s dark eyebrows raised. “But I’m still pissed.”
Ovrun smiled. “Fair enough.”
Rapid footsteps caused them both to turn. Nora ran up and stopped next to them. Her cheeks were red with exertion, and she was a little out of breath.
Ovrun stood. “Ready for dinner?”
“Actually, I’ve got food in my pack. Osmius just landed. I wanted to ask you to fly with us.” Smirking, she turned to Krey. “You’re welcome to join us.”
“I’m not in the mood for torture tonight, but thanks.”
“Didn’t you go on a flight earlier this afternoon?” Ovrun asked Nora.
“That was the plan, but I got busy unpacking a shipment from Cruine.”
Ovrun nodded. Everyone in Deroga had been working nearly nonstop, cleaning up the mess the Cellerinian Army left behind. He, Nora, and the other hunters had spent two weeks replenishing meat supplies. Since then, Ovrun had been helping renovate homes on the Silver Clan’s new residential street. That was one good thing about the battle—the six trog clans were actually working together now.
A flight through the late-spring air would be a great change of pace. “I’d love to go,” Ovrun said.
Nora’s smile dazzled him. “We don’t have much sunlight left, so let’s hurry.”
“Well, if you really wanna go fast . . .” He scooped her into his arms, eliciting a scream. “ ‘Bye, Krey!” he called over his shoulder as he sprinted away with Nora.
Before long, he set her down. They walked briskly, eating fruit from Nora’s pack. Just as they were about to turn onto the street where Osmius always landed, Nora halted. Ovrun turned. “Coming?”
She sauntered up to him, a smile on her irresistible lips. Her hands rested on his chest, then slid up to his shoulders. Tickling the nape of his neck, she said, “I’ve hardly seen you this week. You been avoiding me?”
He let out a low laugh. “Never.”
She rested her head on his chest. His arms tightened around her. How does she manage to make a hug feel so amazing? Ovrun was still aching to hear her say she loved him, but he wouldn’t push her. Even without those words, these stolen moments were indescribably great.
“We better go,” Nora whispered.
Osmius didn’t say a word as they flew over the city. When dusty wilderness had replaced suburban buildings, Nora asked, How are you?
It was several minutes before the dragon answered, I am lost without her, Nora-human.
Nora swallowed hard. She was unforgettable.
Imagine how unforgettable she is after two centuries.
Nora sent as much love as she could from her heart to his.
The sun had set, turning the land below gray. Above, clouds covered most of the sky.
A sudden urge filled Nora. Osmius, I’d like to see the palace.
Why?
She pondered that and at last replied, Because Cellerin is my home. The palace represents that. After a pause, she added, It’ll be dark by the time we get there. You can fly over the clouds. I’ll peek down through a gap. My father won’t see you.
Very well.
When Cellerin City came into view, Osmius flew higher. Nora held her breath and shivered as they passed through a misty cloud. When they emerged, the stars above seemed close enough to scoop up a handful of them.
They flew past the city, catching glimpses of its lights through breaks in the clouds. Before long, Osmius slowed. I believe the palace is just ahead. I shall share my sight with you. He sent his superior night vision into Nora’s mind, then came to a halt over a gap between clouds.
In Nora’s mind’s eye, the edges of the clouds looked luminous. The dragon’s focus, and hers, shifted to the land below.
Nora was prepared to gaze at the palace’s perimeter fence, the pond, and all the familiar buildings. She saw none of that. The view below was unrecognizable. Where . . . where are we, Osmius?
His words were as hesit
ant as hers. We are . . . at the palace. I am certain of it.
“That’s not the palace,” she said aloud.
“What is it?” Ovrun asked.
Nora couldn’t seem to form the words. Through the space between clouds, she saw an unbelievably massive stone dome. It was solid, except for ventilation holes at regular intervals and a larger opening at the very top. As she watched, a piece of stone filled in a bit of the opening. She saw no workers, no scaffolding. It was like the surrounding stone had simply . . . multiplied.
“How . . .?” Nora breathed.
The answer was clear. Her father was a stone lyster. Creating this structure was, by all measures, impossible. But King Ulmin had used brain magic in impossible ways too. He’d discovered the secret to intensifying both his magical faculties.
Another piece of stone appeared.
Nora remembered the words she’d spoken to her father three weeks before. “I never wanted your crown, Father. But I know now I’ll have to take it.” She’d seen the insane look in his eyes and had immediately wanted to take back her impetuous words.
Her father would do anything—even enclose himself within a dome made of magically created stone—to keep his crown. Nora didn’t know him anymore, not at all.
And she couldn’t imagine how she’d stop him.
A Note from Beth
Thank you for reading The Vine Eater! Reviews make a huge difference to authors and readers. Will you write a short review on Amazon? I can’t tell you how much I’d appreciate it. (While you’re there, click on my author page and Follow me!)
Want to know the full story behind the Anyarian apocalypse? The Seer’s Sister is the full-length prequel novel to The Magic Eater’s Trilogy. It’s available free to my Email Insiders! Subscribe now at carolbethanderson.com.
Curious about what happens next? Keep reading for a sneak peek of Book 3, The Stone Eater. Visit Amazon to order it now!
THE STONE EATER: Book 3 of The Magic Eaters Trilogy
Sneak Peek
I hope you enjoy this early peek at The Stone Eater. Details will change between this version and the final one, but this will give you a taste (pun intended) of what’s to come! I look forward to getting the final book of this series into your hands!
-Beth
First things first.
King Ulmin Abrios never felt truly awake until he fueled up. He reached into the dark for a canister on his bedside table. It had two compartments, separated by a perforated, ceramic disc. Every night, Chef Pryn filled the bottom chamber with ice and the top with fuel.
As Ulmin removed the lid, his heart began to race. That made him laugh softly; he was like a little boy when it came to his first fuel of the day.
His fingers brushed across several soft, delicately thin layers of brain matter, diced into bite-sized pieces. The ice had kept them fresh, and he delighted in how pleasantly cool they felt against his warm skin. From the odor wafting up—sweet with a hint of earthiness—Ulmin could tell this fuel came from a cervid. He’d gotten good at distinguishing between species through smell alone.
He pinched several pieces of fuel and put them in his mouth, resisting the instinct to lick his fingers. Silly old man, he thought, laughing again.
He didn’t stop eating until the top chamber of the container was empty. With a sigh, he tapped his fingers together, feeling the dampness left behind by brain matter. Oh, what the hell; life’s pleasures are meant to be enjoyed! Ulmin licked his fingers with relish.
Before getting out of bed, he lit a candle, then fished a piece of ice out of the canister and rubbed it on his neck, sighing in relief. The palace complex was terribly hot. As the day went on, it would only get worse.
Ulmin walked to his sitting room, his flickering candle lighting the way. As he entered, he flipped the light switch. The electricity had been out for a week, but he kept trying, just in case. When the room brightened, his mouth broke into a smile. He blew out his candle, murmuring, “Back in business.”
When he’d started creating a stone dome over his palace, Ulmin hadn’t considered the fact that it would block sunlight from reaching the solar panels. His was the only building in Cellerin with solar power. The day the large batteries had lost the last of their power, he’d been furious.
He’d instructed a staff member to find workers to move the panels to the top of the dome. To help the workers climb the stone outside, Ulmin had created handholds, footholds, and anchor points for ropes. Only one person had fallen to their death. Not too bad, considering how high the dome was.
Rejuvenated by the brightness of the room, Ulmin exited. After greeting the two stoic guards outside his door, he continued strolling through the residence.
From afar, he saw electric light coming from the kitchen. Excellent; Pryn is awake—and, judging by the smell, he’s cooking cervid sausage. These days, Ulmin seemed to be waking earlier and earlier. Sometimes he made it to the kitchen before his chef. Mouth watering in anticipation of a delicious breakfast, Ulmin took several more steps.
He slowed. Low voices emanated from the kitchen. Ulmin identified Pryn first . . . then Dani. His sister-in-law. His whole body suddenly tense, he took a few more steps until he could make out their words.
“You know he’s controlling everyone in this place!” Dani’s voice was barely above a whisper, but Ulmin could hear the shrill passion in it. “You’re his friend and his . . . his . . . supplier. He controls you less than anyone else. If anyone’s going to stop him—”
“He’s my king!” Pryn said, his quiet words matching Dani’s in intensity. “I can’t stop him; I don’t even want to!”
“You can be honest with me, Pryn! I’m not testing you; I—”
Ulmin stepped into the kitchen. Dani stiffened, snapping her mouth closed.
“We can all be honest.” The king’s voice rang through the small space. “Or at least I thought we could.”
His eyes locked on Dani’s. Hers were wide. Scared. He shook his head sadly and captured her mind. “Everything is fine,” he said, voice soothing and soft. “You’re safe and happy here.”
Her mouth widened into a smile. “I’m safe and happy.”
“That’s right.” He crossed to Dani and pulled her into a hug. She relaxed into it.
For years, Ulmin had only occasionally used his mind-lysting faculty on Dani. It was a couple of months ago that he’d begun controlling her most of the time she was awake. He’d hesitated to do such a thing, but she hadn’t given him a choice. She’d been questioning his decisions. Disrespecting his authority. She’d grown far too comfortable with him.
Now, Ulmin wished he’d increased his control over her sooner. It was for her good. He could sense her serene joy as he held her. So much more pleasant than the rebellious spirit he’d heard in her voice moments before.
He released her and gave her a wide smile. “Shall we eat?”
“If that’s what you’d like.”
Ulmin’s gaze rose to find Pryn watching the exchange. The chef’s face broke into a grin. “Cervid sausage, anyone?”
“And maybe a little something additional on the side for me?” Ulmin asked, giving Pryn a wink.
Pryn chuckled. “Always.”
Order The Stone Eater on Amazon today!
Acknowledgements
A lot of people picture authors sitting at their desks, drinking massive quantities of coffee, typing at the keyboard . . . alone.
Some of that applies to me. I do often use a desk. But I don’t drink that much coffee, and what I do drink is decaf.
Most importantly, I don’t write alone. My Acknowledgements are always long because so many people from all over the world help me produce my books! I may be alone at my desk, but I’m assisted—virtually—by others.
My alpha readers are wonderful souls. I send them a manuscript one big chunk at a time, complete with unlikeable characters, plot holes, and plenty of typos. Their feedback helps me craft a better novel. Thank you times a million to these alpha
readers: Becky Brickman, Kim Decker, Brenda Elliott, Brooke Hunger, Stephanie Lynn, Kristin Newton, Becki Norris, Nikki Tuggy, and DeDe Pollnow. Your feedback made a huge difference in this book!
I send my beta readers a revised version of the book, and they help me craft a polished story that readers will hopefully love! I can’t thank these readers enough for their incisive, useful feedback: Alain Davis, April Mcdermitt; Author Danielle Ancona; Becki Norris; Bren Elliott; Brooke Hunger; C.M. Irving; Caroline Hannam; Eileen Curley Hammond; Eli Anderson; Elizabeth Belt; J.P. de La Fontaine; Katie Lee; Kim Decker; Kristin W.; Lisa Henson, Capital Editing Services; Marjorie; R. Mark Jones; Michelle Sundholm; Nikki Tuggy; robin; Robin Gonzales; Ruth Zeman; Sarah Joy Green-Hart; Stephanie Lynn; and Tracy Magouirk. This book is what it is because of you!
It can be hard to come up with unique fantasy names!Many of the character and location names in The Frost Eater came from creative people besides me. Here are the contributors, with the names they suggested in parentheses: Abigail Swire (Cage), Ana Anderson (Zeisha, Lerenor, & Cerinus), Beth Harris (Cruine), Jamie Brown (Isle, changed spelling to Isla), Julie Simmons (Fayla, changed to Faylie), Kristina Adams (Kebi, Eira and Taima), Marie-Eve Mailhot (Evie), Melissa (Wallace, changed spelling to Wallis), Molly Norris (Brea, Kamina), Melissa Dials (Girro), Megan Koehnlein (Sarza), Vonda Hill (Beck), Julie Simmons (Phip), Carol Breckenridge (Lars), Zarine Arya (Preet), Elizabeth Belt (Osk), Heather (Pryn), Penny Brinker (Dera).
Andrew Hall is a talented photographer, and a photo in his post-apocalyptic series inspired the layers of graffiti in the Derogan suburbs. Follow Andrew on Twitter at @andhphoto.
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