Redeem (The Mage Mirrors, The Fallen Queen, and The Forgotten Child) (A Fated Fantasy Quest Adventure Book 10)

by Humphrey Quinn

  Possibly a slice for each of their ten years alive so far.

  Summer was already winding down and they hated knowing it would have to end. Because that meant back to school. Traveling to new places every month or so. And not being able to see Sebastien. However, Uncle Arnon had just gotten them a laptop, and email—they'd be able to stay in touch so much easier!

  It was a little strange this summer, though.

  All summer long, they kept happening across their uncle in hushed conversations with Kanda Macawi, the owner of the campground. And even Sebastien's parents. Conversations that always ended abruptly whenever they were caught.

  Adults were so weird sometimes.

  ##

  Colby—ten and a half. Scared out of his wits as he snuck out of the estate. He had a candle in his hand. His mother had left it for him. He'd only discovered it a few months back, but hadn't dared use it—not until today.

  He'd awakened in a heightened state of panic.

  Heart pounding. Couldn't catch his breath.

  Her face—his mother's face—what did it look like?

  He had no memory of what her face looked like. It had just—vanished—like she had all those years ago. Like the image of her had been sucked out of his memory.

  She was real, right?

  His mother had existed? He hadn't just made her up, had he?

  He tried to tell himself, she had to be real—because she'd left him this gift. Hidden, deep in a trunk at the foot of his bed where his father never bothered to look.

  He grasped the candle so hard he thought he might crush it under his hand.

  When he reached the lake, he spoke to Elisha through their mind connection and let her know he had made it there. She promised to remain behind to cover his sudden, unexplained departure. And if trouble brewed, she'd warn him.

  Colby wasn't even sure what was going to happen, but he lit the candle, and—boom—his legs faltered, his breath hitched. He was no longer by the lake, but standing inside someone's living space.

  He lifted his befuddled gaze when glass smashed against the floor nearby.

  His mother. Staring at him in total shock. She'd dropped her mug.

  He returned her awed stare like he was seeing an apparition.

  She was real.

  She did exist.

  He'd come close to believing she was a figment of his imagination—that he'd made her up. But she was real, and the panic started to subside. He wasn't losing his mind. And now that he was staring at it, he recalled every detail of her face, right down to the freckles across her nose and the constant sadness in her eyes.

  His mother crept toward him as if trying not to scare him off, and simply cupped his face with an adoring tear in her eye.

  Her expression explained everything—the truth of her departure—she'd never wanted to leave him. His father had made her leave.

  "Look at you," she'd whimpered with a light chuckle on her lips. "What a handsome young man you are. So grown up."

  Not so grown up that he didn't miss his mother every single day of his life—and here came the guilt. The shame.

  He pulled back.

  He shouldn't be here. If his father found out—he'd be in so much trouble. Running away like he had, would only prove to his father how weak he was—his father hated that more than anything.

  His head lifted, shame heavy in his features.

  "Hold out your hand," she ordered gently. He did. She placed another candle in it. "The one you have will get you home. This one, if you ever need to find me…" She closed his hand around it, the only response he could manage, to grab onto it for dear life.

  He wished he could find the wherewithal to speak. But his vocal chords refused to work. He wanted to tell her so many things. How much he missed her. But she looked so sad—if he said that, it would just make her even sadder.

  Instead, he backed up, smiled a little, and left without an actual word said to her.

  And hid that candle in the depths of his trunk until he might sneak away again.

  ##

  Meghan could not believe she'd agreed to this!

  Were they not eleven years old for goodness' sake?

  She took her stance, bent her knees and readied her "sword" for battle. It was nothing more than cardboard and aluminum foil, built by Colin with the assistance of their uncle. Her brother had just read some epic fantasy book where there were sword fights on every other page, and now, he wanted to be in one.

  He came at her, and she caught her uncle's amused grin on the trailer steps. She winked at him and faked a stumble. Her brother was so small. And frankly, such a geek! But it was kind of funny. And fun, if she was forced to admit it.

  She let him win, of course.

  That's what big sisters did.

  ##

  "Pay attention!" Fazendiin warned Colby. "In a real battle, these people will be real. And they will try to kill you."

  "Yes, Father."

  They were in a practice arena of sorts, where his father would create ghostly illusions as targets for Colby to practice on. People, but not real people. More like, shapes that resembled people, but never with distinguishing features. Colby learned all sorts of spells to defend himself, and take out his opponents.

  His father paused, thinking something over.

  "Hold up for a moment. I'm going to change things up today."

  Colby waited, wondering what his father planned to do. He left, advised Colby to wait, and returned a little later wearing an eager simper.

  "I think this will be fun. After all, you did just turn eleven a few days ago. I think you're ready."

  Colby struggled to hold back his smile—in the fact that his father acknowledged his birthday. He never did.

  His father wove a bit of magic, and the practice arena transformed before their eyes. Colby gasped when the normally ghost-like illusions took a more realistic form. Different shapes and sizes—faces. They looked almost—real. He swallowed a lump hovering in his throat.

  "There," stated his father. "For all intents and purposes, Son, these targets are real people. And a real battle is the best way for you to learn."

  Colby's eyes opened wide. His father wanted him to attack them? But there were men, women, and children all standing about.

  Elisha silently encouraged him. This was a big step. "Think of it like a promotion. Soon, your father will send you out on a real job."

  "Well, what are you waiting for?" his father stated in flat impatience. "Begin."

  Colby pushed down a hard swallow. "Who—which—ones are my targets?" he stalled. Surely, his father did not mean for him to kill them all?

  "Colby. Real people, have real faces. And just because that face is not a grown man, does not mean they won't try to kill you."

  "Yes, Father." But his legs refused to obey the order to start.

  "Take out anyone who gets in your way." His father nodded to the far side of the arena. The goal—to get across, grab the flag hanging there, and make it back to the beginning. A human-filled obstacle course.

  They are not real, Colby repeated silently to himself—wow, they sure looked it.

  He sucked in and stepped into the battlefield. A spell whizzed by his ear, just barely missing it. Colby gasped, his gaze fixing on where it had come from. One of the not-quite-real people had done that.

  He spun and gaped at his father.

  "You're in battle! Don't look at me!"

  Colby spun back, in disbelief. His father had made it so they were striking back… with real magic. This was the new, fun thing he wanted to try?

  Forget getting the flag!

  He'd be lucky to make it out uninjured. And alive.

  Even Elisha had a momentary pause at this surprise. But then the real battle commenced, and she had no choice but to jump right in and assist her Master.

  Only ten minutes in, his father had disappointedly stopped the practice. Ignored the slice in Colby's arm from a spell that hit him. And lectured him for an hour o
n what he did wrong, and how to do it right.

  It went on like this for months. Daily practice, for hours, until he finally reached that flag with only minor injuries. Followed by a few more weeks before he successfully made it back to the start. And a few weeks after that, before he'd made it through the human obstacle course completely unscathed, in record time, and had unceremoniously stricken down every last target.

  He'd crossed the finish line, out of breath, only to lift his head to a sight he'd never seen before.

  His father, smiling. At him.

  "Well done, Son. Well done, indeed."

  The first time his father ever congratulated him.

  Colby was—elated.

  He'd gotten it right. His father was—pleased with his efforts. Not even a, that was good, but next time….

  And the praise given had the exact result Fazendiin was looking for. Colby was more eager than ever to prove himself. He'd do anything to get that response again.

  ##

  Twelve years old, staring out a window across his father's estate, burying an unexplained loneliness. It had happened again—this strange feeling, like there was someone next to him. Or there should be someone next to him. Like there was someone he should know, and did not. It made no sense but it was happening more and more.

  "Your father's coming!" Elisha shook him out of the morose thought that always saddened him, before his father caught him like this.

  ##

  Colby's first job, at last. It didn’t make much sense to him, but his father wanted him to track down a girl and her brother. He was to bring the girl home with him. Colby knew better than to ask why. And he was eager to prove himself.

  But he'd failed. His first task for his father had failed.

  Because something strange had happened the first time he saw the girl. He ended up hiding in the woods like a coward and stared at her, because—he would have sworn he knew her. Which was impossible. But she seemed so familiar to him. And there was something about her that reminded him of—his mother—and that had made him sad, and angry. And made no sense.

  Instead of facing her himself, Elisha had confronted her for him. The girl, Meghan, had not returned with them. Someone had helped her at the last minute—a boy—Jae Mochrie. The same guy who years later was holding him together as the memories flooded out of him.

  His father wasn't pleased that he'd failed and he'd ordered Colby to try again. "Do not disappoint me," he'd stated pointedly.

  ##

  Colby returned and tried again. So hard. But the girl was stubborn. It didn't matter, though, he had a job to do. However, he failed, again. His punishment—stuck in lessons because he obviously still had things to learn before he could be trusted with a job again.

  He'd not get another try until many months later when his father ordered him to retrieve a book—of all the things, a book. He'd been more than surprised when it was the same brother and sister again—Meghan and Colin Jacoby. What the heck was so special about those two? And why did he get all weird around the girl? She got on his nerves, like she knew more about him than he did. She was—annoying. And a know-it-all. And—she wasn't afraid of him, and that just pissed him off.

  ##

  The memories continued playing out like this for what felt like forever.

  Colby, Colin, and Meghan, with their minds connected, their lives lived out so vastly different from each other.

  What an unfair thing—life.

  So much of it left to chance.

  Even with this prophecy being the reason for their existence, it was a tossup.

  Meghan had been given a chance at the most normal childhood, possible. And as it turned out, her father hadn't wanted a daughter, he wanted a son. But only because of some unknown thing that had told him Colby fit his grand design. Simple as that—she got the good life. Colby got left in Hell.

  Reliving the nightmare of his existence, as he attempted and failed, repeatedly, to gain that impossible moment of pleasing his father—trudging through the muck of why it mattered so much to have that approval—the realization that it would never happen, and that the world was so much bigger than he'd ever imagined—well, it was crushing him from the inside out.

  Life.

  Was.

  Not.

  Fair.

  And Meghan made a promise then and there, that she'd never, ever, in the rest of her entire life, feel sorry for herself, or complain about her job in this prophecy. Because the alternative… was the wretched existence her twin had been subjected to.

  CHAPTER 21

  Jae's own tears refused to obey his order not to fall, and he did his best not to let them land all over Colby, whose face was already rashy, swollen, and soaked. Jae wondered how Colby had not suffered some major breakdown long before now. And the truth was, he did, he'd just suppressed it over and over and over, and tonight, it was all coming out in a big, bad, brutal way.

  But it only proved to Jae time and time again, exactly how strong Colby really was—he'd gone through Hell and survived. And it wasn't too late for him to live the life he wanted to—or figure out what kind of life, he even wanted. Jae reminded him of this, repeatedly. He stroked his face gently, with no exact comprehension of what was going on with the connection to Meghan and Colin, but Colby had to let it run its course, or he would never stand solidly on his own feet, again.

  It seemed to go on forever, until some invisible force cut the cord and Colby's mind released from the connection. Jae felt it happen. Every taut muscle in Colby's body, went limp. Every breath, slowed, and evened out. His firm grip on Jae, relaxing, every fiber in his being too fragile and exhausted to hold onto anything.

  The haziness left his eyes, replaced only by glossy tears. He couldn't speak. Or think. He was devoid of thought. There was no other way he could describe it. His mind was his own again, all his deeply hidden memories released from their depths, having flayed him raw, and left him wide open, and hollow. Ground zero. No lower to fall. His fears out in the open for all to witness.

  And a new mountain to climb—but perhaps this time, someday, he'd reach the top. Tonight, however, he didn't have it in him to try. Not even a single step. He was—empty.

  But he was not alone.

  Elisha made her presence known.

  Jae held onto him like both their lives depended on it. And Colby was pretty certain it did.

  He wanted to see his face, but the effort to turn his head was too much. Jae shifted himself, then shifted Colby so his face angled comfortably a few inches from Jae's. He wondered how the guy could stand to look at him like this. He was a mess. His hair a tangle of knots only made worse by all the tears he'd just vomited out of himself. He imagined his face was puffy and red. He was the epitome of weakness. And yet Jae stared at him with such—adoration, and devotion.

  "Sleep," Jae whispered, with a stroke down the side of Colby's face. "I'll be right here when you wake up."

  Colby's eyes closed almost like Jae's gentle demand had to be obeyed. A soft kiss left a warm sting on his forehead. "I've got you now." Colby's new favorite words. And they grounded him, settled him, and he surrendered his trust, completely.

  A first step up that mountain, and he didn't even have to give it any effort. Jae was pushing him upward. A new ache filled Colby's chest—it hurt, but it was the best possible hurt he'd ever felt. And amazingly, it pushed one last stray tear down his cheek.

  Jae swiped it away, misunderstanding it as another wave of sadness. "You don't have to be afraid. I've got you."

  Colby used every bit of strength he had, to force his eyes open. He lifted his fingers just enough to touch Jae's face.

  "You do have me." And he meant it in every way possible.

  CHAPTER 22

  The connection between Meghan, Colin, and Colby had broken when he lost all strength to keep a rational thought in his mind any longer—he'd basically passed out from the expulsion of every memory he'd been burying since childhood.

  It left Megha
n in a state of disorientation and overwhelm that broke down all the walls in her own mind. They were all partly responsible for Colby's lot in life. Yes, the overall blame landed on their father—but her actions, and so many others, had forced Colby to this demise.

  So different, their lives had been.

  The things she'd always complained about, now seemed downright silly. Her life might not have been everyone's version of normal—but her uncle had loved her. She and Colin had each other. They had Sebastien. His parents too. And Kanda. They'd been surrounded by love. Yeah, not all of it was great. But they'd had each other to depend on.

  Colby didn’t have that.

  But as the connection had broken, his mind was open and empty—except for two things.

  Love.

  Trust.

  Pure, undiluted, untainted—love and trust. And all for one person—Jae.

  It was so—innocently beautiful, Meghan had to fight back a tear of her own. Colby had managed to let down every wall—bravely stepping into a new world he had no idea how to live in. And Jae was right there with him. It almost made a gal think things might just turn out okay—except for the fact that it had only further broken down her own walls, which drew her out of that beauty and right back into a new nightmare.

  Colin—he pushed through her mind. Seeking out what she was hiding from him.

  This was possibly the worst way he could find out about his parents. Yes, he was aware who they were, but not their story. Not their history. This was not a controlled reveal, when he was mentally prepared for it.

  But she could not rebuild the block and at this point. Colin's presence was so powerful she would not be able to force him back out. Instead, she tried to create new obstacles to stall him, by shoving old memories he already knew, in his way.

  It wouldn't work for long.

  ##

  Colin was locked in a world of his own.