by Brindi Quinn
A Crown of Reveries
By Brindi Quinn
Copyright © 2020 Brindi Quinn.
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Print ISBN: 978-1-949222-24-1
Library of Congress Control Number: 2020920452
Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Names, characters, and places are products of the author’s imagination.
Cover design by Victoria Cooper.
Published by Never & Ever Publishing
Minneapolis, Minnesota
www.neverandeverpublishing.com
Content warning: This book touches on topics of child abuse that may be upsetting or uncomfortable for some readers.
To those who have been with me since the beginning.
Also By Brindi Quinn:
Heart of Farellah (Book 1 of the Heart of Farellah Series)
Moon of Farellah (Book 2 of the Heart of Farellah Series)
Fate of Farellah (Book 3 of the Heart of Farellah Series)
Atto’s Tale (Book 4 of the Heart of Farellah Series)
EverDare (Book 1 of the Eternity Duet)
NeverSleep (Book 2 of the Eternity Duet)
Seconds: The Shared Soul Chronicles
The World Remains
Sil in a Dark World: A Paranormal Love-Hate Story
The Death and Romancing of Marley Craw
The Eternity Duet
Farellah: The Complete Series
The Pursuit of Zillow Stone
Lightborne (Book 1 of the Bexley Chronicles)
Nightborne (Book 2 of the Bexley Chronicles)
A Crown of Echoes (Book 1 of the Echoes Series)
Nemophilist
Noun. One who is fond of forests or forest scenery; a haunter of woods.
Chapter X
Where We Left Off
As suspected, that questionable patch of forest growth straightened before stepping out from the rest of the underbrush. It was a person—one garbed in a long, hooded cloak.
My pulse turned quick.
“Stay where you are if you don’t want to lose a hand!” seethed Windley, hatchet now fully revealed.
Yet the figure approached.
“Did you not hear me, fiend?” Windley spat, pushing me further behind him, shielding me from view.
“We thought we felt you skulking around in the southern domain,” said the garbed figure, who was either a man or a very throaty woman.
My first thought was that they were talking about me—the nemophilist and my glowing footsteps that gave me away like a beacon, until—
“Well done, Windalloy,” the figure said, clapping slowly. “After eight long years, the lost son returns. It seems you’ve ensnared a powerful one for a pet, too.”
Windalloy? That couldn’t be coincidence, right? And… eight years was how long Windley had been with us. So by ensnared pet, the hooded man meant… me?
I was no one’s pet.
But Windley took no acknowledgement of any of this. He continued to clutch me behind himself, demanding, “Who are you?”
“Come now, the effects of that crude elixir must be wearing off now that you’ve stepped foot on southern soil again. Surely you remember your master.” The man lowered his hood to reveal a strikingly handsome face with gleaming, intoxicating, mesmerizing lavender eyes.
A Spirite?
“Argh.” With a grunt, Windley doubled over, hand to his temple. “No… I…”
I clung to him, already ready to break my vow and summon the echoes. Whoever this was, I was stronger, for I wore the Nemophile’s Crown, and I could end them with a push of my hands.
I flexed my fingers in preparation for a fight.
“MErrIN?”
“Merrrrin.”
But after the episode, Windley merely stood, even keel, and said, “Oh, I forgot about all that.” Then, over his shoulder, he issued me a frantic, whispered directive: “Run, lion queen. Back to camp, and don’t look back. Ever.”
But I only made it a few lighted steps before I was undertaken by three other hooded beings.
Windley’s dark past had finally caught up with him.
Chapter 1
Wind
This story would be better if it were told by Beau. Beautiful, regal, freckled Beau.
Actually no. This one is all mine.
Hello, captive ones. I missed you. Did you miss me? I must warn you because this one may be a bit harder to get through. There are some… sticky parts. But as I’ve told you before, it will all be worth it.
…Ready?
“Run, lion queen. Back to camp, and don’t look back. Ever.”
From the dark wood, spotted by Luna’s rays and drifting bits of forest light, three sets of hands grabbed me as I started to flee. Unlucky for them, these rogues didn’t know who they were dealing with.
“MerRin?”
I tipped my head backward into the darkness, allowing the bodiless hands to begin their coil, when Windley’s cry cut through the din: “Don’t!” I snapped out of it to see him shake his head: “Don’t fight back.”
That tone—there was something hidden beneath it. He didn’t want them to see my power?
“Rip them from their bodies! Send them to hell!”
“Not yet,” I told the prodding darkness, as the three hooded figures pushed me to the ground and held me in place.
“She smells different,” said one, a male with a deep voice and a hard grip.
“That’s because she’s a royal,” said another, female.
“Oooh. How did Windalloy manage that?” said the last of the three, another male but with a softer, more playful tone.
“He’s good at pretending,” said the female. “Always has been.”
I ignored them. I had accepted that Windley shouldered a dark, forgotten past, and whatever it was, it didn’t matter. Eight years was enough to know the truth of someone’s soul.
Unfortunately, Windley’s dark, forgotten past did matter. And it would place me in more danger than I ever could have known.
The three rogues were not gentle in their restraint, but the mossy bed beneath me was a comfort, plush to keep my knees from aching and aglow to remind me of my true strength. The echoes swirled beyond the reaches, waiting for my signal, but for now, I would oblige Windley and play at weak. In the clearing ahead, he looked to be in a standoff with the lavender-eyed man—the handsome one who had called himself Windley’s master.
“Let her go, Ascian,” Windley said, teeth exposed. “I’ll come with you willingly if you let her go.”
“Aw.” The one called Ascian clicked his tongue mockingly. “Must be a special pet if you’re willing to set her free.”
“She isn’t my pet,” said Windley. “And if you call her it again, I’ll cut out your throat.” His jaw was tighter than I had ever seen it, his hatchets gleaming in the moonlight. He pointed one in our direction. “Call off your lackeys, Ascian.”
“Ooh, testy,” said the deep-voiced male holding my shoulders.
“If not a pet, then what is she?” said the female, laughing. “Sorry to tell you, cupcake, it’s not in our nature to love humans. Even if he told you so.”
A lie. I had seen and felt the symptoms of Windley’s love time and again. Even now, he stood to separate me from the one called Ascian and his probing lavender eyes. This bitch and her patronizing tone were toying with me, and the echoes didn’t approve.
“She has no merit.”
“Tell me, Windalloy, why does the ground glow beneath her?” said Ascian, taking a step nearer. “A hex?”
“Maybe,” said Windley, pointing both hatchets at Ascian and stepping backward to maintain distance. “Maybe one to poison her lifeforce and keep out leeches like you.”
“No, I don’t think so,” said one of the lackeys. It was the playful-voiced one. He had released his hold on my sleeve and was crouched low to inspect the glowing moss. “Seems like a magical reaction and not a hex to me. Let me taste her and find out, Master Ascian? Please?”
Taste? Windley said his kind had evolved out of predatorial tendencies long ago, but these seemed pretty predatorial to me. Were all Spirites like this?
A stupid question. That would be like asking if all humans were like Sestilia.
At the stranger’s proposition, Windley’s fury took a turn. “Taste her, and it will be the last thing you do,” he seethed like a wolf protecting its meal. The predator in him was showing too—only on him I didn’t mind it so much.
In fact, it was a bit swoony to see him acting all territorial.
The deep-voiced rogue’s interest was pricked. “You must taste darn good if he’s unwilling to share.” His grip on my shoulders changed from firm to coaxing. “Be my pet instead? I’ll treat you decent, darlin’.”
Darlin’? A soft word for such brutish hands.
“Tch! How good can she be?” scoffed the female. “A bit plump for my tastes.”
“Melt the flesh from her bones!”
Dangerous of her to provoke the echoes like that. If Windley wasn’t quick, I might not be able to hold them back.
Yonder, he was still engaged in a standoff with his self-proclaimed master.
“Play nice now, Windalloy. I would hate for history to repeat itself. You do recall what I did to your last special pet, don’t you?”
There was a sharp inhale from Windley’s throat as if he were remembering something unpleasant. In response, Ascian’s handsome face distorted into a wicked smile.
I think this was the moment I realized: Windley’s dark, forgotten past was more horrific than anything I had imagined.
The echoes inched closer as my blood fumed over whatever Ascian had exhumed from Windley’s memory. Around us, the beauty of the wood flourished, unaware of the ugliness unfolding within.
“Enough of this,” Ascian said. “Get her up.”
The deep-voiced lackey obliged while the female took my wrists and twisted them behind my back. Meanwhile, the playful-voiced one stepped in front of me and lowered his hood, for the first time revealing his face.
Not what I expected.
Not predatorial. Not threatening. He looked to be even younger than Rafe—maybe even a teenager—with cheeks that were full and eyes that were curious. He was cute, even, in a boyish way.
“Wow,” he said, eyes wide. “No wonder Windalloy likes you. You look a lot like Flor—”
“Don’t talk to her, Pip,” said the female.
“Wait,” I said. “Who do I look like?”
The female grabbed a handful of my hair. “Did you not hear me, worm? Don’t talk to Pip. He’s impressionable.”
So the playful-voiced one was named Pip. This seemed to resonate with Windley, who heard the name and spun to face us. “Did you say Pip?”
“Obvi,” sneered the female. “Who did you think we were?”
Windley squinted in her direction a moment and then—“Charmagne?”
“Bingo.” She released a condescending laugh. “Took you long enough. Don’t you recognize your own sister and brother, idiot?”
Yeah. You heard it right.
“Windley, is this your family?” The words fell out of me like a blubbing fish caught on land. I scanned Pip’s face for similarity but found none. Those plushy cheeks were a far cry from Windley’s structured ones. If this was truly Windley’s brother, did that make Ascian their father?
I was so wrong. On all accounts.
“I have no family,” said Windley. The moment of distraction was his window to attack. He charged at Ascian with hatchets spinning, but before Windley could do his blades justice, the lavender-eyed man pulled a three-tailed whip from the layers of his cloak and snapped it into the air above Windley’s head.
Thwack!
Windley froze in his tracks, hatchets falling limp at his sides, and I saw a flash of something hit him: fear—rare to see on him, and contagious. After, the look he gave me was one of heartache, as if apologizing for ever meeting me.
I loathed it.
And I loathed the person who had put it there.
Loathing is a dangerous thing when stored where darkness resides.
I didn’t understand the dynamic between Windley, his ‘master,’ and his ‘siblings,’ but in that moment, I understood that I was not the one in need of saving. Though my arms were restrained, I had other means to channel the darkness.
“Windley! Duck!”
I pushed forward from my core, wrenching my neck backward, and when I opened my mouth, it felt as if one of the dark hands came thrusting out of my lungs.
“Pip, watch out!” Windley shouted as he dropped to the ground to dodge my wrath that swept toward Ascian like stormy fog rolling over waves.
“He has no merit!” My own voice merged with the echoes, scathing and warbled.
Afterwards, the wood was flooded in black.
Pip had heeded Windley’s advice and was cowering on the ground at my glowing feet while that bitch Charmagne and her male accomplice had released their grip on me out of shock.
I didn’t wait to see what had become of Ascian and his lavender eyes. I leapt forward, grabbed Windley’s arm and began tearing him along after me through the trees.
“Camp is the other way!”
“They’re dangerous, right?” I said. “Then we aren’t leading them back to where Beau is. We’re leading them away.”
I wouldn’t allow any one of them to taste her.
“In that case,” said Windley, “this way. I remember it now. I’ve been to this wood more than once.” This time, he was the one to take my arm and pull me through trees and green, but it was only for a minute, until: “Ugh, can’t you quit being so magical?” My glow was a dead giveaway. With a grin, he hoisted me into his arms like a damsel.
The grin was forced, though. That interaction had created a wound within him. I could see it in the corners of his eyes, sense it in the swallow of his throat. And all I wanted was to be alone with him in a safe place to soothe his hurt.
“Windley?” I said his name carefully.
“Queenie?” He mimicked my tone, mouth pressed to the top of my head.
“Is your memory returned?”
His jaw flexed. “I’m afraid so. Now I remember why I took that damn elixir.”
I squeezed his neck tighter. “I won’t ask you to relive anything you don’t want to, but… I’m a good listener if you decide.”
“I know. You’d be the one I would go to anyway.” This time, his grin was real.
Thank goddess.
We continued on, distancing ourselves from the threat at our backs, treading deeper into the cover of the wood, Windley looking over his shoulder only once to mutter: “Pip… he never got out of it…”
Eventually, he slowed and listened with his pointed ears for signs of pursuit, setting me down only once satisfied there were none. At that point, he took his face in his hands like it might be able to undo everything that had just happened.
“You shouldn’t be caught up in this, Merrin, but there’s no helping it now. You’ve been seen, your glow’s been seen, and you will have caught Ascian’s interest with that display of shadow puppetry.” He peered off into the surrounding night. “The best thing to do for now is hide you. I’ll take us somewhere safe.”
“Hide? But that man said they ‘felt’ you. Can’t they tell where we are, even now?”
Windley shook his head “It was my power they felt. Because I’ve been using it carelessly dow
n here. If only I had remembered not to.” Teeth-clenched, he tossed a look at his blackstone ring glinting demon-like in the night. “It’s what was calling me to them, too—Ascian’s power—only I didn’t realize it. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt another Spirite’s ripples in the air.”
“Ripples?”
“Yeah, that’s what it feels like. Energy ripples. Tighter the closer you are to the source, and then sort of dispersed the further you get.”
“And can you still feel his now?”
“No. But not for the reason you’re hoping. More likely, Ascian’s turned it off. Unfortunately, I betrayed your spell by calling out. I doubt it caught him.”
I was afraid of that.
“But I’m not sorry I used it,” I said—quietly, rebelliously.
That made him chuckle. “Sorry? Why would you be?” He scooped my fingers and brought them to his mouth. “It was foolish of me to expect you to sit silently. You’re hopelessly incapable of it.”
Love.
That was love in his eyes as he laughed to himself over me. Love in his brow as he forged a plan to keep me safe. Love in his mouth as he pressed it to my skin.
Charmagne or whatever her name was didn’t know what she was talking about.
How much, captive ones, do you think it would take for my resolve to falter?
Hold tight. As I said before, it’s all a little sticky.
“This may delay our journey home,” said Windley. “And this time it will only be you and me. Are you okay with that?”
As it was prone to doing, my mouth answered on its own: “Yes.”
But that was fine, because my heart was in alignment. I would go with him wherever he took me, toting our monster along behind.
I probably should have been more careful. After all, monsters can be hard to tame.
Chapter 2
The Proof of Scars
Windley’s destination was something in the east, and he kept glancing up to see the stars between the trees in hopes of orienting himself.
Along the way, I gave breath to the filigree whistle around my neck. Beau’s widowbird was back at camp, having followed us after being released from below Giant’s Necropolis. I needed to get a message to Albie and the others, to let them know that they should return home and that we would come after, once we knew that evil wasn’t in pursuit.
