by Amy Morris
Stones of Fraine
Legacy of Fraine Book 1
Amy Morris
Copyright © 2020 Amy Morris
All rights reserved
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
Cover design by: Kingwood Creations
For Desiree, thank you for giving me the courage to do this.
Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Preface
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
Acknowledgement
About The Author
Books In This Series
Preface
Restoring a magical amulet sounds simple, right?
If you found out you were the key to a prophecy and the only hope of resurrecting a mystical kingdom, would you believe it? I’m still not sure I do.
My name is Abigail Thorm, but until now I never knew my real last name. The foster parents who raised me didn’t see me as a daughter, more of their shop clerk and servant. It could have been worse, so I don’t complain. Now on my twentieth birthday the truth of my existence is revealed, turning my life and entire world upside down.
Being the heir of Fraine has benefits, one is having eight protectors, even if I don’t know who they are yet. Actually, I’m not aware of what most of the benefits are. The downside is being charged with restoring an amulet. Which I’m still not sure how to do.
My friends and protectors have yet to let me down, so I’ve at least got that going for me. So far we’ve all had each other’s back, but how much longer that can last is anyone’s guess?
If I fail it could cost my friends their lives, plus my own. Add in that monarchs in other kingdom’s want my head, along with meeting new challenges as we travel leaves us fighting to complete our task.
1
Why me? That’s all I think as I watch the jar of ginger slide to the floor from the store’s counter. This is par for the course in my life. Kneeling down to clean up the mess of glass and pale yellow powder, the front door opens followed by a familiar voice, upset yet again by something I may have done or not.
“That loud crash I could hear out on the street better not have been anything in this store Abigail. What is that you’re cleaning up? Oh, never mind, I’ll get an accounting of it later to deduct the jar and spice from your pay,” bellowed Shaun Cray, the store’s owner. I turn in time to see his wife, Oma, walking in as I try to recover from the insult of what might come later.
Walking past me I hear the usual mumble, better off left at the orphanage, from Oma. I have grown accustomed to this comment since I was a small child and would have run away a dozen times if it hadn’t been for my best friend, their daughter, Gossimer. Goss, as I call her, has been my closest ally since I came to live with the Crays’ thirteen years.
She catches my attention from across the counter, “Just do the usual and ignore them, Abby. I’m sure Pa will forget about it once he’s had dinner and a few drinks. What happened anyway?”
“I don’t know; I was setting up to measure out the Baron’s order when I zoned out again… Next thing I knew the jar was falling,”
“Are you having those visions again?” Goss asks while swiping long blonde hair out of her face while she helps me pick up large shards of glass.
“I guess… I’m not sure what they are. Visions would be a good way to put it, I suppose.”
She gazes at me almost as if she understands, “Well if not visions then nightmares from what you’ve mentioned to me.” And she’s right, they are nightmares. Vivid, violent and almost mystical moments in time that I feel are real but can’t be since most of what I see doesn’t exist outside of stories told to children to entertain them at bedtime. Dragons, elves, witches and werewolves’s aren’t real, but in my dreams they are acting as if they live among us. Almost as if they always have. “Abby, hello Abby… Did you just tune out again?”
“No, I’m here, just started thinking about them, that’s all,” I stare into Goss’s light blue eyes and wonder, has she ever had a nightmare. I’m sure she has but not like mine; I was left on an orphanage doorstep at just a few days old and raised there until the Cray’s took me in at seven. She has had a privileged life, being the daughter of a wealthy merchant family. Not understanding the horrors of not having enough to eat, the possibility of being sold or losing the roof over your head if you say the wrong thing. “Sorry I just keep wandering, it’s been worse in the last two weeks but I’m sure it will pass.”
She pulls my hands into hers, “If you need anything, please tell me. Is someone bothering you? Has anyone said anything?” Goss taps my head with a mischievous smile on her face, “I just realized. It’s almost your birthday. Don’t things get a little foggy around this time every year?”
“Yeah, but this year seems worse,” even more distracted than before by what she mentions, enough that I don’t even notice the sack thrown over my head in time. Before I can even let out a yelp, I’m in the air and being carried out the front door. Screaming has never done me any favors in the past, so the idea seems pointless now. “You jerk’s,” I scream as I hit the water trough along the street. Coming back up for air, “Why would you do that? Why do you think it’s funny?” They’re laughing, they always laugh when they do this.
“It’s tradition, we’ve been doing this for thirteen years now,” Therin laughs. Goss’s older brother, Therin and his best friend Angel stand back as I pull the soaked bag off of my head then grab the sides of the trough to pull myself out.
“My birthday is in two days and aren’t you supposed to be at the barracks for training,” I grumble as I wring out as much water as I can from my clothes.
“Well, we only have leave for tonight and we’re missing your birthday, so this is the only time we had. Besides, it’s your annual baptism into the family and you know you wouldn’t want to miss it.” The mischief in Angel’s chestnut brown eyes seems genuine, but there’s something else there. Emotions run high through my brain for Angel, I’ve caught his stares enough times to think there might be something there. But I’ve learned to not trust my heart with him. Not after the pranks Therin and Angel have done to me throughout the years and having my heart broken by both. Being in love or lusting over both of them at different times, only to find out what they have said or done to get my attention was just a joke at my expense. But that was years ago now, thinking more about it, I’ve grown since then mentally and physically. My reminiscing stops as I slosh towards the back of the store where my room is to change into dry clothes.
Gossimer is already in my room holding a fresh dress for me, “Sorry I couldn’t stop them. It was too late before I noticed them. They didn’t hurt you, did they?”
“No, I’ve learned to go limp and enjoy the dirt water bath for what it is.”
She brushes through my hair after my clean shift is over my head, “True, nobody wants a repeat of your twelfth birthday. It took three months for that break in your ar
m to heal and after the punishments they both received for that I’m shocked they still even waste their time.” Goss takes her time pulling the brush through my waist length dark blonde hair. She seems hypnotized by it almost, then giggles to herself.
“Alright, you can let me in on the joke,” I say as she keeps laughing, which now propels me into a peel of laughter as well out of habit. “Fine, now I’m laughing but do not understand why, so please tell me before I think I have gone insane.”
She settles herself at the end of my small bed. “Well, if you must know you will need another change of clothes before dinner tonight.”
“And why is that?”
“Father told me right before we got home that a suitor is going to be a guest tonight at dinner and they are hoping to ask for my hand. Do you think Allen found the courage to speak to my father?”
I can’t help but smile at her; she’s been in love with Allen for years. At nineteen, Goss is old enough to marry and start a family. “I bet your father is happy about it, his parents own the most profitable fabric market in Madera.”
“I’ll be the envy of the other wives at every event. But that doesn’t matter to me. So have you had your eye on anyone? You never tell me, there has to be someone you could stand marriage to. Tell me.”
There is no getting around this conversation, especially with her preening. “Nope.”
“Come on, Abby, spill it.”
“There is no one and never will be,” it’s the truth of this statement that hurts the most. Gossimer has had admirers her whole life whereas I’ve been lucky to get even one dance at a party with a friend’s cousin out of pity. For her, it’s easy with her curves in the right places and the perfect clothes and jewels for every occasion. I’m not horrible to look at, I think. In height we’re close with me being just taller, but where she has a bust and behind my build is closer to a teenage boy than a woman’s. My green eyes stare back at me from the mirror over my small dresser, I catch Goss staring at my back. “Listen, it’s not that I don’t want to get married and start a family, which I don’t see in my future. It’s that I want to find my family first, my actual family. Ask them why I was abandoned at the doorstep of a church almost twenty years ago.”
“I understand, I’m here for you if you need anything. But just remember twenty is getting close to becoming an old maid.” I throw my brush at her as she scampers out of my room.
Sitting down on my bed, I think about what my family might be like. Are they alive? Was something wrong with me? Could they not afford another child? Have I sold spices to them in the Cray’s store? Do I walk past them on the streets? Someday I may have these answers, but not today.
Nothing of note happens for the remaining three hours I man the store on my own. Going to lock the front door when it almost knocks me over as it flung open. Getting my bearings back, I glare at the open space to see what customer would need to knock me over to get a last minute item.
“Shit,” I mutter under my breath. Standing in front of me is Renoe Prior or as I like to call him “The Werewolf”. No, this man is not large, has oily black hair instead of fur, but him stealing children to eat with his old weathered yellow teeth lends to the werewolf visual in my head. “What do you want?” I mouth off before I realize the mistake.
“And who do you think you are? The urchin thinks to speak to me…”
“Abigail,” Mr. Cray bellows from behind me. “Thank you for letting Mr. Prior in, I’ll lead him to the dining room from here. Please dress for dinner and join us.” He shakes the werewolf’s hand while patting him on the back like an old friend. Lowering his head to my ear, “Don’t make an ass of the family or you won’t live long enough to regret it, you understand me?” I nod as he guides the lecher into the family home.
Within ten minutes I’m seated next to Gossimer, who is looking around the room almost searching for someone that’s not here. Noticing her alarm at the situation makes me uneasy, and then I see what she does. There are no empty chairs, all the food is out, they’re using the good china and silver, but where is Allen…
“Do you know what’s going?” I ask Goss leaning towards her pretending to settle better in my seat.
“No, you?” Shaking her head slightly.
All I can do is shake mine and assume what might happen. One significant thought takes shape in my head and I pray I’m wrong.
Twenty minutes of idle conversation passes before Renoe Prior gets to the point of his appearance at dinner this evening. “Gossimer my dear, you look lovely tonight in that blue dress. The only thing I will change when you are my wife is how much that fabric covers; you show too much skin this evening and the tops of your breasts. But I guess those are hard to restrain with their size.” He just smiles at her, not even a smile, more a menacing sneer, and all I want to do is stab him with the knife I just finished cutting my pork with. “Well, at least in public you’ll dress appropriately,” he adds.
“How dare you speak that way to her,” my growl comes out as I try to push back from the table and stand at the same time.
“You have no opinion in this,” flicking his wrist as though shooing away a fly.
“No, but I might,” Therin speaks, taking in everything said about his sister.
“You have no say either with what I do with my property once we’re wed, boy,” Renoe sneers at Therin.
“Father, you can’t be serious about marrying Goss to this man.”
“Therin, this is my decision, and I consulted your mother. She agrees that this marriage is advantageous to all parties involved. Mr. Prior wants a young fertile wife and we want your sister taken care of, which he is more than able to do as the head of the banking trade.” Mr. Cray settles into his chair, “Now if the two of you can behave you may stay at the table, if not you may go. As you can see Gossimer seems fine with this match, you don’t see her speaking out or making a scene!”
“I’m not though,” her voice is so small, I almost think she didn’t mean to speak.
“Did you say something, my dear,” Renoe asks again, leering at what’s exposed of her chest.
“I said I’m not happy with this suit. I thought… I had thought…”
Mr. Cray’s face reddens, “You thought what? A fabric merchant’s son would be the match I make for you? From this point on, Allen no longer exists to you. I assumed from previous comments of mine you already knew that.”
“I thought you approved of him. Just last week you mentioned having him and his family over for dinner. Hence my utter confusion father.”
“This is our ultimate choice. It’s the better choice you will see.” His face is turning a darker shade of red, with his temper he may strike her if she speaks out again.
“If you excuse me, I need a moment,” Gossimer whispers as she leaves the table.
“Go speak to her, make her realize how happy she should be Renoe.” And with no other encouragement, the werewolf leaves the table to follow Goss.
“I warned you that fifty-two was a little old for her husband, but we are making out well with this arrangement and so will she if she’s compliant.” Mrs. Cray takes a small sip of her wine, I’m about to tell them both how I feel about this “arrangement,” when Gossimer screams from the other room.
The entire family is already in the hall by the time Renoe Prior opens the sitting room’s door and exits. A droplet of blood is running from his left eye. “What happened Renoe? How were you injured?” Mr. Cray asks.
“A simple misunderstanding Shaun, my advances alarmed my bride. She will learn though, after the ceremony next week. I believe I will take my leave of her for this evening, would you be so kind as to bring me a damp cloth Oma so I may clean my cut. Shaun, how about a glass of liquor in your study while we complete our terms?”
Without so much as a glance to Therin or me, they leave to do Prior’s bidding. Crying from the other side of door brings me back to where I am, Therin must think the same beating me into the room. “What happened?” I hear be
fore I see what he is referring to.
Gossimer is bent over, sitting on the settee; a slight shake as she sobs, but the actual damage reveals itself when she straightens. “Goss my god, here take this blanket and cover up,” Therin hands her the blanket for the arm of the chair across the table. “Did he do this to you? What happened?”
After a few moments that seem to take hours, Goss answers, “He said he wanted to talk. He told me things any girl would want to hear, but I didn’t, I don’t care about wealth or jewels. That’s not what I want, I want someone who loves me and whom I love. Not someone who wants me for my looks and my families’ connections.” She shudders a little as she takes a deep breath, “I should have known not to say anything that may anger him, and Abby knows herself how quick his temper can be.”
“Wait a moment, what happened between Renoe and you?” Therin turns to me.
“About that… I turned down his advances in the market a few months ago and embarrassed him. A few days later your father sent me to deliver his order. My plan was to leave it at the door or with the housekeeper, but he was waiting for me instead.” Stopping to breathe, I pause before continuing, “After trying to pull me into the house Renoe offered to buy a few hours with me. I called him a werewolf to his face, and a struggle ensued. He didn’t hurt me though, well correction I had a black eye and a split lip for a week but he didn’t hurt me like he could Goss if they marry Therin.”
“Did my father know about his advances before he sent you?” Therin directs to me.
“No, the only person I told about that day was Goss. But I found out later that he requested I deliver his order myself. Your father said that was all he knew and not read into anything. You know the usual with orphans, people think they can do anything. Which is true, so no point in angering your father by arguing that point?”
