by E Hall
Corbin’s gaze glows softly upon me in the phone's light. He gathers me into his arms. I know what he’ll say before the words come from his mouth. “This is a dead end.”
I go limp, letting him support me because I’ll need all my strength for whatever happens next.
Corbin stops and grips my arms. Only with my wolf’s keen vision can I see the glint of his eyes. “Whatever happens, you are mine. And I am yours.” His accented voice is a low, rich growl.
“Is that you talking or your wolf?” I ask.
At an even lower register, he says, “My heart.”
Mine skips a beat as the words take hold in my chest.
We move slowly back through the tunnels. I’m not ready to give up on the puzzle cube being in here even though I know the truth.
The puzzle cube we found at Lila’s contained the Fae Jewel. Presumably, the chest and puzzle cube in the secret room had contained the Vamp Jewel but my mother had it and gave it to me. The third, the Wolf Jewel, must have been in the chest that my father took great pains to hide.
But someone got to it first. We still have two of the three jewels, so that’s something, but we also need the scepter.
With Corbin at my back, I hesitate before climbing through the last little door.
“What is it?” Corbin asks.
Something about this secret chamber, the one that reminded me of a ship, halts me. “That porthole. The glass was moving.”
He frowns. “Maybe we should get some fresh air.”
I turn around and crawl back into the little office.
Corbin follows, muttering his worries.
I stand up, brushing off a few cobwebs and walk to the porthole installed on the wall of the study. The rim is made of copper, but the two center rings are made of stained glass, but I was right. The innermost one is moving. I carefully reach for it, realizing it’s separate from the copper and the stained glass. I remove a thick cylinder about as big as the base of a wine bottle and striped with colorful symbols. The colorful symbols in the cylinder dance and shift, reminding me of a combination of aurora borealis light and the glow of a Lite-Brite. It hums with energy, with magic. I sense my father in a strange way...and power. Lots of power.
“Wow,” Corbin and I say at the same time.
I meet his eyes and a grin lifts the corner of my mouth. “I think we found the Klave.”
After carefully tucking the cylinder under my jacket and zipping it up, I climb back through the passage. Corbin follows.
Pepper flies toward me, waving frantically and babbling nonsensically.
“What is it? Is everything okay?” I can’t figure out if she’s freaking out because she’s excited or if something dreadful has happened.
Her hands flutter and she inhales deeply. “I figured out something big. Huge. King-sized. And something itty bitty. The coded dragon book told the stories about the lives of all the different dragons, portions of history, and so forth. I was translating the symbols, and the stories seemed vaguely familiar and a pattern emerged.” She claps, humming with excited energy, flipping through her papers and pointing out symbols, and picking up books and leafing through the pages and then referencing passages she transcribed.
I gently lower her onto the chair. “Hang on. Slow down. I can’t keep up.”
Corbin glances at me and shrugs, as lost as I am.
She inhales and exhales. “Okay. Sorry. I got ahead of myself. I’ll start at the beginning, though I still haven’t quite reached the end.” She straightens the papers and books. “First, I read about the Klave.”
“So my father didn’t make it?” I ask, feeling the cylinder’s energy pulsing against me, still zipped up in my jacket.
“I’m certain he did. The book talked about what to do if the scepter is ever lost, stolen, or broken. It suggests the creation of a Klave—a magical object that contains the history of magicals, of hybrids in particular. But it all has to be true, factual. Otherwise, it can’t be created. He must’ve gotten the idea from the book.”
“Interesting,” Corbin says, likely thinking about how all along, he believed it was a rebel group.
“The book also said to use the Klave when all else fails, when all is lost. Most interestingly, I decoded the symbol for it.”
I’m about to reveal our discovery when she goes on. “Cool thing number two. Every hundred years, for the last six-seven-eight hundred years or so, I haven’t quite figured out the timeline exactly—numerical symbols aren’t as easy to translate—Melchior picks a new consort from the group of maidens.”
“Is he that old?” Corbin grimaces.
“As we know, there are fae courts all over the world and each of the consorts seems to be associated with a different area, an ambassador, or representative of sorts...until now. Until the Court of Ken and Clover.”
“So he’s been without a consort for a few of hundred years?” I ask.
“Bookmark that and we’ll come back to it because it figures in,” Pepper says.
“What happens to the other consorts?” I ask.
Pepper beams. “Listen to this. Melchior is the king of all fae, but there are distinct courts. Court of Ken and Clover for instance and loads of others. According to this book, there were to be nine fae king and queen pairs in total to keep the fae world in balance. They’re referred to as nine fated muses to inspire the fae kings—and correspond to areas around the world. They’re each special with certain qualities and powers.”
“But there’s only been one fae king throughout history,” Corbin says slowly.
Pepper snaps her fingers. “Bingo.”
“Melchior interfered with fate. That must come at a cost and must be why he wants the scepter because—” She wiggles her fingers. “It’s believed to work like a fountain of life. It has the power to give and balance life. Then again that could be about as true as the Klave being an entity rather than an object. No one knows for sure.”
“Speaking of the Klave—” Corbin starts.
Pepper cuts across him. “Over time, there have been six confirmed consorts. They each have a unique story. As I said, it was foretold, so the fae identities are fated. They’re strong, powerful, resourceful, and courageous. They were incredible fae. Lila was to be the seventh. Isa the eighth.”
My throat tightens. “And I was to be the ninth.”
Corbin steps closer to me.
Instead of dwelling on that, I unzip my coat and pull out the cylinder. The magic inside of it pulses, dances, and shimmers.
“In better news, we found the Klave. I think.”
Pepper’s eyes flash gold. “Oh, that’s the Klave all right and the symbols are in the dragon language.” She bounces up and down, nearly knocking the glass cylinder out of my hand.
Corbin mutters, “She’ll be a menace when she gets a tail.”
“I heard that,” Pepper replies.
I notice a few more scales shimmering on her wrist.
We spend the rest of the day in the secret room, taking it apart from top to bottom, trying to find the final gem. If it’s like the others, it’s about the size of a cherry and could be anywhere.
Meanwhile, Pepper decodes the symbols in the Klave. She explains that they relay truths about magicals, our true deepest nature of love, loyalty, and friendship. They dance in the cylinder because they’re alive with power, waiting to be unleashed.
“Basically, there’s some major magic in this thing.” Pepper wiggles it in her hand. “Like, it should be in a padded titanium case and under lock and key.”
But what do we do with it and when? Something she said earlier comes back. “Use the Klave when all else fails, when all is lost.”
I catch my reflection in the broken fae mirror where I saw the couple searching for something.
Dark circles rim the space beneath my eyes. My hair is a wild mess. My skin yearns for sunshine. The entirety of me wants my father to return to help me navigate this uncertain course.
I go into the hall and glanc
e out the window. The moon is dark and the stars are bright. I search the sky for the Dog Star and recall the story about how it and shifters came to be.
Corbin’s hands land on my shoulders and he rubs, trying to relieve the tension.
He leans into my ear, and whispers, “We will figure this out.”
My eyes glint with liquid sadness in the reflection of the window.
“I’m not sure we will. My father failed, and he knew so much more than us.”
Corbin shakes his head, wipes my eyes, and leans in for a kiss. My shoulders instantly drop, and my breath comes easier. This is the power of having found my fated mate. We are one. He can soothe me so I let him.
Corbin’s rough hands smooth their way along my back, ironing out the rough edges of my worries. He draws me closer until our hearts press together. His beats steadily. My arms loop his neck because I don’t want to let go. I never want to let go but fear that’s what I’ll have to choose. However, I have this moment.
I memorize the contours of his full lips, the sharp line of his jaw, and the smooth plane of his chest as my lips and hands roam. I let each time his lips touch mine light me up, fill me, and awaken the little butterflies in my stomach.
The kiss deepens. I never want it to end but fear it will. Forever.
I taste salt. I’m crying soft, silent tears.
Withdrawing from the kiss, Corbin says, “I like to think life is a lot like the ocean. Sometimes the waves peel smoothly. The water is glassy and glittery. Other times, the waves are unpredictable, messy, and break angrily. But sailors still set out. Ships aren’t meant to remain in the harbor.”
As he speaks, I shiver at the thought of ghost ships and wonder if Alister is nearby. Can he tell us anything about them?
Corbin goes on, “I know we can do it. We’ll be strong together and strong for each other. Then, when we’re successful, we’ll celebrate everything that brought us to that moment. But in the meantime, I’m here for you. I love you with all my heart, Kenna.”
I lift onto my tiptoes and kiss him one more time. “I love you too.”
I see a strong man, a wolf shifter, a guy who knows who he is, and his role. Meanwhile, I’m torn between the wolf and fae inside. If I acquiesce to Melchior can I make this all go away? The thought leaves me feeling defeated, afraid, uncertain, and constantly looking behind me for a hand to hold on to.
Corbin laces his fingers through mine as if he knows what I need. I suppose, as my fated mate, he does.
He leads me to the kitchen that smells mildly like cinnamon rolls.
“Remember when we arrived in New Hampshire and your mom got the cheesiest, most decadent slice of pizza?”
My mouth practically waters. “Normal.”
Corbin’s eyebrows crimp. “What?”
I shake my head. “Sorry, I don’t know why I said that.” But I do. It was a throwback to when life wasn’t wacky.
This time, his eyebrow arches. He hoists me onto the counter and plants his hands on either side of my hips, bracing me in place. “I think you know, and you’re going to tell me. That’s an order from your Alpha and your fated mate.”
I shrink a little at the invasion, but then my Alpha rears her head. “It’s nothing.”
“Kenna.” His tone is a low, gritty growl.
I brush my hand over my forehead. “My life used to be normal. Pizza night with my mom with the Pac Man video game console noises in the background and unruly kids throwing paper airplanes or dinner at Andi’s with her family and all of its delightful chaos.” I gaze at my hands in my lap. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
“Pizza?” Corbin’s lips quirk, and he braces himself as though I’m going to swat him.
“A family,” I whisper.
His gaze penetrates my awareness. I lift my eyes to meet the copper orbs that tell me three things. Love, truth, and trust.
“You have a family. We will have a family. First, we have to make things right. I know there’s nothing normal about the magical world. Considering the way you were raised, this is unusual, but we can do this. We have to because your dream of a family isn’t only yours. It’s mine, it was your parents’, and probably a lot of other magicals too.”
I let out a long exhale. He’s right, which is why what I will have to do is so painful.
Corbin takes my hand and helps me hop down from the counter.
“It’s probably not quite the same as back in New Hampshire, but I know a place we can get some solid pie.”
Chapter 20
Corbin
Kenna and Pepper stay at Lonsdale. Alone, I wait in line at the pizza parlor for two pizzas—one with extra cheese and the other meat lover’s deluxe.
My hands twitch as though the pressure building inside of me discharges like a live wire.
I straighten as a brain wave passes through me. Maybe the understanding of the scepter is wrong. Perhaps it isn’t in a static or neutral state, but charging like a battery, like a powerful tool, waiting for the right hand to grip it, to direct it with his or her intention. At this revelation, I stagger into a rack stacked with newspapers and real estate booklets.
If what Pepper said is true, using grim magic, Melchior has extended his existence through the lives his maidens take. Presumably, that cannot continue in perpetuity. He seeks the scepter to use its source of life-giving properties. We cannot let him have it because if it has the power to give life, it can also take it away.
The headline on the Polaris Paper reads When will it stop? The article lists deaths of several more men, expanding beyond the woods to other regions in Concordia.
It has to stop now, but the better question, the burning question, the one I haven’t been able to answer for what now amounts to months is who and how.
Forget secrecy and fear. Forget the uncertainty and obtaining all the details; if we don’t take action soon I don’t know who will. The how will have to come later.
This has to stop, no question. And it has to be us, no question.
I grab the pizza and head back to Lonsdale.
Charged with purpose, I stride into the house. “I’m back,” I call.
A log in the hearth cracks and I stoke it, adding another. This place isn’t home and I yearn for my pack. Being gone this long is hard, but being with Kenna right now is more important.
With the pizza still in hand, I stride down the hall to the secret room. She isn’t there.
“Kenna,” I call. The charged energy inside me turns frantic. I search the house, turning over the impossibilities. Did Clove come back? Melchior? Another enemy?
Leaving the pizza in the kitchen, I go back to the secret room where I left Kenna and Pepper. The Vampire Jewel and the Fae Jewel are on the table—love and friendship. Where is the Wolf Jewel? Where is my mate?
I close my eyes, trying to sense her.
The wind rattles the windows. The lights flicker. When they’re steady again, my gaze lands on the word cursebreaker in the notebook Pepper was using for her translation.
With the birth of the new generation of fae, a cursebreaker will be born. The curse will be lifted on the light of the moon if she sacrifices herself.
I swallow a thick wad of worry. Do they think she’s the cursebreaker? I make a mess of the notes searching for more information, but that’s where it seems Pepper left off.
My wolf senses tell me exactly where Kenna is.
I dash outside to the forest’s edge, calling, “Kenna,” until my voice is hoarse. The wind waves the tree branches violently as though Melchior is saying I win.
No, not before I’ve even started fighting.
I’m about to shift and charge into the woods when an electrical pulse shoots through me, freezing me in place. I’m not quick enough and drop back onto the damp ground.
I wake to the scent of wood smoke and damp tweed. My eyelids open heavily. Firelight cracks and dances on the wall in the parlor at Lonsdale.
A slender silhouetted figure stands in front of the blazin
g fire. He tosses in a birch log. The paper-like bark catches and curls into ash. My throbbing, burning head may as well be reduced to cinders.
“You awake?” I recognize the voice, but don’t want to answer it. Clove.
My head pounds as I push myself up to sitting. I summon my wolf, ready to tear Clove to shreds, but something heavy socks me in the gut. I suppose it’s better than him blasting me with fae magic again.
“I used a Rune of Power to keep you in physical form. Don’t try anything. Just answer me, where is it?” he asks, presumably referring to the Wolf Jewel.
“The question we should be asking is where is Kenna?”
Just then, the room brightens as if lightning flashed through the window. Clove freezes and rocks back. His expression is one of surprise.
“I’m right here,” Kenna says. She lowers her hand and sets the box of pizza on the table in front of the fire.
“I thought—” My throat is scratchy, and I pull her into a tight hug.
“Babe, you’re crushing me,” she says.
I apologize, but don’t pull back for a long moment. I can’t imagine losing her.
“I’ll tell you everything after we deal with Clove.” She gestures to her frozen brother then takes out a slice of pizza and around a mouthful adds, “And devour this. I’m starved. If I were back in the States, it would be Thanksgiving.” She tells me about all the traditional foods, including the pies with fresh whipped cream.
Relieved and renewed, I help myself to a slice of pizza.
“Not quite the same, but it works,” Kenna says. “Thank you.”
When she’s done eating, she gets up and paces in front of her brother. “Do you know what your problem is? Just because you’ve been hurt and experienced maybe more loss than you think is fair, when something or someone good comes along, you push it away as fast as you can. I’m your sister, Clove. All I’ve ever wanted is a family and things being as they may, you’re all I’ve got.”
She releases her magical hold on him enough so that he can speak. “I didn’t ask you to tell me what you think my problem is, Kenna.”
