“That’s an amazing idea, Varia.”
“Well, that’s what I would want to do. I’m obviously an epic fail as an actress, but I do have some cool ideas,” she said with a shrug.
“You only went to one movie audition!”
“And I really wanted that role. It was perfect for me,” she said grumpily. “I just think that if I live down here for a few hundred years—maybe three or four hundred years—hopefully when I emerge, the world will be a better place. But whether or not it is, I don’t care. I’m going to be happy down here in the meantime.”
“Won’t you miss your mom and dad?” Glais asked.
“I always feel like my mom is with me,” Varia said with a smile. She looked down at her ring. “And now I have this, to remind me of her.”
“It was really nice of her not to threaten to cut any of my body parts off,” Glais said appreciatively.
Varia gently grabbed the front of his shirt. “Enough conversation. For now, I think you should open that jar of kisses. I’d like to see what’s in there.”
“Sure, but twist the lid slowly,” he warned. “There’s a lot of pressure in there and the kisses might explode and go flying out in every direction. One might hit you in the eye.” He leaned forward and pressed a feathery kiss against her eye, which closed as he approached. Her eyelash fluttered open, grazing his skin.
She smiled and leaned up to touch her lips to his, like she had wanted to for so very long. There was no longer any reason to be shy. She had permission. Unlimited permission. She pulled away and cleared her throat. “Hey, did you put any glazed donuts in that jar? ‘Cause I could really go for like, a double chocolate—”
“Varia!”
“Fine, fine. I’ll just settle for the kisses.”
In a small hotel room in New York City, a woman sat in a chair.
To the untrained eye, there was nothing particularly fascinating about a woman sitting in a chair. Of course, it might have seemed strange how perfectly motionless she was, and how rigidly erect her posture. It might have seemed strange that she neither ate, nor drank, nor slept.
She had been sitting in the chair for three days.
A knock sounded on the door. “Room service!”
Hearing no answer, a heavyset Spanish maid entered the room. She noticed a woman with jet-black hair sitting in the chair, just as she had been for the previous two days. “Oh! I come back. Miss?” She looked around the room and noticed that nothing had been touched. She began to worry. Was the woman sitting in the chair even alive?
Moving forward hesitantly, the maid approached the chair. She frowned as she reached out to hesitantly touch the woman’s shoulder.
“You okay, miss?”
Visola’s head turned sharply to regard the intruder. She had removed her contact lenses after fainting at the airport, and her natural green eyes pierced through the woman’s skin, blazing through her flesh and bone.
The hotel maid gasped and stepped back. “Um. No room service, ma’am?”
Visola continued to stare blankly at the woman’s face.
“Sorry, sorry. I go.”
The woman moved to leave, but before she could, Visola’s hand darted out and grabbed her apron. Yanking the woman forward, Visola grasped her jawbone and snapped her neck. Not for any particular reason. Just because. She released the hotel maid and allowed the woman to crumple to the floor. She turned back to the window, and continued to gaze at the city skyline.
Visola was very conscious that a part of her was suddenly missing. She knew the name of the missing fragment; it was her innocence. Someone had slain her innocence. She had felt the very moment when the light had been snuffed out; she had felt the impact to her heart and brain. She had lost consciousness as her own body and soul tried to survive the shock of having its vital other half ripped away. She had never known that it would feel like this, and it was the worst feeling she had ever experienced.
In that moment, everything else had instantly disappeared. Her love and goodness had been slain. Her loyalty and humanity had been slain. Visola had never existed in the world without her sister, and she had never known that without her, she would feel so incomplete and damaged.
Actually, she did not feel much of anything.
Something in her mind had snapped. Something in her heart had broken. Some crucial cord had finally been cut, and it had been a thick, strong chain, woven much deeper into her psyche than any umbilical cord could ever be. Her foundation had been cleaved in half. Now, she was unsteady. She was unstable. She was unhinged.
Visola could not seem to remember her husband’s name. She could not seem to remember the names or faces of her children. She could not seem to remember anything past her own emptiness. As she looked out at the city skyline, her eyes followed the lines of the great, iconic buildings. She carefully studied the skyscrapers; particularly the ones that were no longer there.
Her focus shifted to her own reflection in the window. She studied the familiar contours of her own face curiously. She saw that beyond her darkened hair, something had changed in her appearance. Something had died in her eyes.
Glancing down at the golden bracelet on her wrist, Visola remembered that it signified an obligation to another person. She remembered that the bracelet held her bound to serve and protect the queen. At the moment, she could not seem to remember the name or face of this queen. She reached down and slipped a finger under the chain, wrenching at the golden links until they burst apart. The broken bracelet slid from her wrist.
The slender metal shackle fell onto the face of the dead maid, colliding with her eyelashes and swinging gently as it hung from where it had hooked over her nose. Visola gazed at her naked wrist for a moment before turning back to stare at the city skyline.
For the first time in her life, she was free.
And her enemies would soon learn what that meant.
“Okay,” she said quietly. “Okay.”
The story continues…
A Note from the Author
Dear Reader,
Whew! That was a very challenging write. Thanks for coming along for the ride! Did anyone actually check to see if Rolf had a real twitter account? He does. @CastleGuardRolf He’s totally a real guy and everything—I’m not the one posting those tweets. ;)
My grandfather had a twin brother, and I’ve heard stories about how he could intuitively tell when his brother was in a fight or in some sort of trouble. He would race across town to his assistance. (And this was long before cell phones!) He also felt intense pain and was able to tell the precise moment that his brother died. Many twins have reported similar psychic connections, and I think that it’s so interesting and cool. (I wish I had gotten a chance to meet my grandfather, but he died way before I was born… due to poisoning. Sometimes real life has the best/worst stories.)
This book was hard to organize because I had so much information—in fact, most of the plot that I had planned got pushed forward to the next book. As you can see, this book was transitional, not only moving from the story of the adults to the younger generation, but from one successfully fought war to an even bigger war.
I must admit that there was a moment when I was writing this story where I considered doing the unthinkable. When the kids escaped the palace, I wondered to myself: even if I did kill all the adults with a bomb right now, would the kids be strong enough characters to continue the story? I thought about it, and got somewhat attached to the idea. There are so many characters and storylines going on at once that I have to make extensive notes to keep everyone included and accounted for. Heck, Callder didn’t make it into this book at all! Sorry, Calldy. I love you—you’ll get your spotlight next time. Namaka and her sexy pirate lover didn’t either! =( I tried to include them by talking about them, but I just couldn’t justify scenes. Also, I actually created this super-cool, complex water sport for Glais to compete in at the Olympics, but that got dumbed down to simple fencing because I simply didn’t have room to explain a new
sport completely. Even that being said, we never got to see Glais participate in his fencing competition. There’s so much more that I wanted to write, but it will mostly have to be saved for next time.
I must admit, the complexity of the expanding world is part of what tempted me to kill off all the adults in that moment. Things would become simple again. We could have focused on those six young characters. Varia is a heroine in her own right, and she’s ready to take the lead. It wouldn’t have been easy, but she would manage—she would have come into her own once the pressure hit her. She’s tough. I suppose that the idea of taking the book in that direction was so tempting, and strangely reasonable, that it was what sparked the dream sequence. I knew I had to try to trick you guys into believing for a few minutes that I had killed everyone off. Did it work? Or did you know it was a dream? =)
Of course, I’m far too much of a wimp to go ahead with something like that. I originally planned to kill Aazuria in the last book. I originally planned for Adlivun to lose the war with Zalcan! But I’m never strong enough to go through with my plans. I guess that’s for the good, grown-up writers like George R. R. Martin. =)
Speaking of which, I do feel like I’m running out of life experiences to write about. I am currently almost 25 years old as I finish writing this book, in February 2013. I have done a boatload of extreme, crazy things in my lifetime, always with the justification that I would write about them someday. And now I have. Before my coffers run dry, I think I need to take a few months to travel and do the most insane, interesting things I can find in the name of research. I will aim to have Book #6 completed by late August 2013. However, I’m horrible with plans, and that could be a whole lot sooner, or a bit later.
The next book is going to be one for the fans of Fathoms of Forgiveness—for those who wish the series centered mainly around Visola. I know there are some of you out there! The best way to get in touch with me is my Facebook fan page. I’m also trying to use twitter a little more. I love, love, love feedback, so feel free to leave a review, or message me and let me know your thoughts!
Until next time!
Sincerely,
Nadia
Available now, Book 6 in the Sacred Breath Series…
MAELSTROM
By Nadia Scrieva
"Visola, please. Instead of launching thousands of nuclear warheads, will you just cry and let me hold you?"
"No, thanks. I like my original plan better."
Visola has been stricken by the death of a loved one. She will stop at nothing to get revenge on the people responsible--and their entire country. She commits herself wholly to her mission, forsaking her husband, children, friends, and home. Vachlan is tormented by her absence, and sets out to try his best to find her and convince her to come home and stop her obsessive and destructive behavior.
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Nadia Scrieva is an award-winning author from Toronto, Canada. She also writes under the pen name Loretta Lost, and is the author of the popular Clarity series.
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Website: NadiaScrieva.com
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Tides of Tranquility Page 34
