by Zoe Parker
Table of Contents
Ascension
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Five
Chapter Forty-Six
Chapter Forty-Seven
Chapter Forty-Eight
Ascension
Facets of Feyrie
Book Two
By
Zoe Parker
You can purchase a copy of this eBook at: http://books2read.com/u/mvjMZe
Copyright © 2017 by Zoe Parker
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the Author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
Cover design by Zoe Parker
Dedication
For my children, as always. Also, my ever faithful, tolerant other-half. And my Savage Squad you got me here. Also for Kyle, I didn’t know you, but I know the woman who made you and she is one of the most courageous, caring people I know. So I imagine that you were too.
Ascension
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Five
Chapter Forty-Six
Chapter Forty-Seven
Chapter Forty-Eight
Chapter Forty-Nine
Chapter Fifty
Chapter Fifty-One
Chapter Fifty-Two
Acknowledgements
About Zoe Parker
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Chapter One
Iza
Road trips are kind of fun when you’re traveling with three awesome snots. I’ll never tell them that, though. The fun bits anyhow— I’ll call them snots all I want.
My eyes alight on each of them briefly.
Knox, with his mossy green eyes and baby-soft hair. He’s acting more like a kid every day, though I’m not sure he’ll ever shake those shadows from his eyes completely. These days his laughter comes easier and more often.
Ruthie’s hair is growing out to a velvety brown, which goes well with those brown eyes of hers. A week ago, she decided pink is too “high maintenance.” She’s blossoming, not that I’m surprised. She’s smart for a kid her age and pretty, too.
Although at seventeen years old, she’s still considered a baby in human years. Quite possibly, if we were human, her life would be much different.
Only we’re not human.
These kids have no idea that I’m only four years older than Ruthie, and I feel like that number should have a zero behind it. Some days I just feel so damn old.
I’m glad they have a chance to be kids, since I didn’t.
My eyes move on to Michael, with those baby blues. He's still quiet, reserved. The timid is starting to fade away, showing peeks of the true strength underneath. He’s still quite shy with people, which is mostly okay; there’s a difference between shy and timid. Something I’m slowly finding out about him and life in general.
I don’t miss the way his eyes follow Ruthie either. That’s going to be an interesting thing to see one day. She watches him the same way.
When they both realize it, there’s going to be entertainment to be had.
“Iza, why are you looking at me so funny?” The stupid smile on my face fades as Michael’s voice penetrates my happy little reverie.
Little shit caught me staring.
“You have mustard all over your chin,” I taunt, then sigh when he checks. Really? He hasn’t eaten anything with mustard on it.
“How many miles left before we’re… there?” I ask. Maybe if I don’t say its name out loud, I can play the denial game a little longer?
“Just under 200 miles. Do you want to push through tonight or stop somewhere?” What Ruthie means by that is, please stop somewhere and give me a steak or shoes.
She’s got a bit of a shoe fetish. There’s a bag in the back full of nothing but shoes, her shoes. And the steak well, we all like steak.
“We can stop at the next place that has a Wally-World store.” I answer, giving her a yes to her unanswered question.
Ruthie nods and pushes her dark glasses back up her nose, a satisfied grin on her face. I’m right. It’s shoes this time. Which is fine; the kid has gone through hell. She can have all the shoes in the world if she wants.
“Iza, can we get a place with a pool?” Knox asks, tugging a little on my arm.
Smiling over at him in the seat beside me, I answer, “Sure, but you still have to wear your vest.” And I can’t go in any deeper than my waist.
A week before, I discovered in a panicked moment that Knox can’t swim, and unluckily for us both, neither can I. Of course, I found out the hard way. He started flailing, and I jumped in to save him, and we both sank like rocks. Fortunately, Ruthie and Michael both know how to swim.
It was careless of me because I didn’t think about jumping
in. I saw Knox struggling and in I went. I’m not sure if it’s a good or a bad thing yet.
When the car suddenly stops I hit the back of the front seat with my shoulder.
“You should wear your seat belt, Iza. They give you tickets here. clickitorticket,” Knox whispers, unfastening his own seatbelt. I ruffle his hair and climb out of the back seat.
Ruthie, my dear shoe hoarder, finds a Wally-World within a few minutes. She wants those shoes! Once inside, Michael takes Knox’s hand, and they head off to look at whatever boys look at here. Ruthie heads straight for the clothes and such.
Which leaves me standing there twiddling my thumbs.
We can't have that, can we?
Setting off through the store, unsupervised, I browse and touch anything appealing, adding all sorts of goodies to the empty cart I snag from an aisle. Eventually, my wandering brings me to the ones with the real goodies.
The pharmacy area.
The shampoo section is a quick tour. My senses can only briefly handle smelling so many fruits and flowers. Each consecutive aisle snags a piece of my attention. I scamper out of one before I’m seen – I left a bit of a mess.
My curiosity has a cost sometimes.
Coming around the corner of the last aisle, I find myself standing next to the maxi-pads. Using my shirt sleeve to wipe the taste of latex off my tongue, I stare at the rows of neatly lined up, brightly colored packages. Because of TV, I know what these are. Maxi-pads have a useful purpose, the whole menses thing.
A blue box with a strange looking item on it catches my attention. Curious, I open the box and then the crinkly plastic package.
What in holy hell is this cotton ball-stringed thing?
I swing it around by the string experimentally. Is it a toy? Boring one if it is. No noise. No flashy lights. Hmm. I sniff it, ignoring the grumbles of the old lady standing in the diaper department.
They have diapers for adults here too, which look rather comfortable. I bet she’s wearing one right now. Maybe full of poo, the way she’s staring so hostile-like at me.
Ignoring her, I sniff it again. This thing smells kind of like paper. Huh? Picking the discarded blue box up off the floor, I read the instructions.
Wait, you put it where?
"Iza, what are you doing?" Michael's voice pulls me out of the hell this box says to go through to insert these things into—ahem, places.
Why in the world would you do that to yourself on purpose?
I hit him in the cheek with the tam poon, totally accidentally on purpose, and he snags it as it falls with a red face.
Ha, Michael knows what they are!
Giggling, I go to the “mess” aisle and grab a random pack of condoms off the shelf and toss them to him as well. This useful item's purpose I already understand, after I tasted one. Bleh. It looked like candy and it said strawberry flavored on the box. It didn't smell like candy. But humans are weird, so I thought... why not?
I need to be more careful about what I put in my mouth.
Chapter Two
Iza
We ended up getting a hotel with a pool for the night. Not that I'm complaining. I don’t tell them no often. These kids deserve more than they’ve been given in life, and I’ll make sure they get as much as I can give them.
Staring out the window into the night, I tighten my grip on the cup of caffeinated goodness in my hands. Normally, I’d be content and occupied by my favorite beverage. But the butterflies of anxiety in my stomach are a bit troubling.
Tomorrow, I’ll be at the Sidhe.
There’s no more room for denial, no more avoidance of it. We’re too close to take it any slower than we already have. Not to mention, the Magiks inside of me are screaming and pushing at me to get there already.
Bossy shit.
I know that it’s childish for me to be so reluctant, but who wants to take on the responsibility for so many other people? Not anyone with any sense, that’s for certain.
Good thing for this Magiks crap, I don’t have much sense.
“Iza, why does it scare you so much?” Michael’s soft question causes me to jump and drop the cup in my hand.
Soda splashes all over my socked feet.
Frowning, I question internally, Who, me? Scared? Ha. Nothing scares me. Something as stupid as some prophesied Shepherd isn’t scary, right? I’m an immovable wall of badassery. Snorting, I move to clean up the mess.
Maybe if I think it hard enough, it’ll be true.
Grabbing a towel off the towel rack, I hastily work cleaning the soda stain up. Deciding to look busy and to not answer Michael’s question. Denial does work in some ways.
“We got your back. You don’t need to worry,” Michael says again, more gently this time.
For a second, I pause in my task. Letting myself absorb the importance of his words. Feeling my cheeks heat with emotion, I finish cleaning up the soda.
I’m not embarrassed, but damn if I don’t feel like crying.
“What kind of car was it you said you wanted?” I mumble, knowing he’ll hear me.
His whoop of joy is enough to make me cringe, which gives me an excuse to hide the smile on my face.
“Hey, what about me?”
I flat out laugh at Ruthie’s tone. Deciding to mess with her, I look up at her.
“Car or Choo shoes?”
Her mouth opens and then closes. The little minx is debating. Laughing, I shake my head. Until recently these three kids were afraid to ask for anything. Apparently not anymore.
I’m okay with that.
“You don’t think I’ll buy one for him and not you, right?”
I hit the floor hard enough to knock the breath out of me. Squashing the instinctual urge to lash out, I relax. A laughing teenage girl is hugging me for all she’s worth. Two seconds later the two boys join her.
Mentally sighing, I want to say I don’t like the puppy pile. But I’d be a liar. With a growl, I toss all three of them, giggling, on the bed and pounce.
Chapter Three
Iza
Fate is a dillhole. A massive, flipping dillhole.
Those words repeat in my head, several times, as I stand here, staring at the decrepit old house in front of me. Absolute dread is like a rock weighing heavily in my stomach.
The once white paint is now peeling and stained from age. At least, I hope it’s from age. The discoloration in some places makes me wonder about that. The shutters, what’s left of them, are crooked and broken.
Don’t get me started on the windows. I’m fairly certain that the entire upstairs doesn’t have a single intact window. Or frames. The wooden porch, sagging and ancient, is even falling in. I’m reasonably sure there’s a hole right next to the front door, as well.
This house is the Sidhe? This is where I’ve sent people?
Well, shit. Have any of them stayed?
“Iza, look,” Michael says from beside me, pointing towards the front of the house.
So, I look. The front door is now open and in it stands a familiar woman. A dragon, to be more accurate. I know that face.
“Nika?” I question, taking a step towards the house. Maybe she can clear up what’s going on here.
As I take another step closer, my Magiks blast awake inside of me, freezing me in place. Arcing out of me in a wave of blacks and purples, it hits the house with a boom.
For a heartbeat, nothing happens, and then the house begins to glow, to change right in front of my eyes. The peeling paint turns whole; the shutters, hanging so haphazardly, lift and reattach themselves to windows that are no longer broken.
As the minutes tick by I’m stuck there, gaping like an idiot, watching the miracle happening before me. The entire house is changing, turning into the house of my dreams—one I dreamt of as a bloody, miserable kid curled into a ball in a damp cell, crying for a life I would never have.
A hush falls over us, broken only by the sounds of the Magiks gathering in a storm cloud above the house. Uh-oh. That can’t mean anyt
hing good.
The impact of the first wave slings me back into the truck, knocking the wind out of me. Wheezing, I fight to catch my breath, only to lose when the rest of it kicks in. Images bombard my mind as the Magiks flood into me.
It pulls me within myself where, for the very first time, I see a full-on view of the Web attaching me to every Feyrie. The Web is a tangible representation of the Magiks that have been my forceful, annoying boss… up until now.
I’ve got a feeling that things are going to change.
Guided by something greater than myself, I climb to my feet, a puppet to the Magiks. Those strings walk me through the, newly renovated, front door and into a space too large to belong to the house on the outside.
The Sidhe and the Magiks inside of it are welcoming me home.
The room is empty except for an old wooden chair that beckons my gaze, pulling my body against my will. Sitting in that chair will put me on the path I can never leave. Briefly, I struggle against the force pushing me forward. In my head, I even picture turning around and running.
It doesn’t happen, of course. I lost this battle the minute I got out of the car.
Accepting—no, momentarily defeated, I force myself to relax, letting my steps continue unhindered. Not that fighting made any lick of difference. But I’m a contrary creature.
The second my butt touches the seat, a change comes over the chair. The wood morphs into black bones, moving and growing beneath me, and in my heart, I know they belong to my mother. The Magiks entwined with them whisper the knowledge to me.
Eyes burning, I exhale a shaky breath.
The Sidhe, my prophesized birthright, is waiting. It’s waiting for me to say one simple word… yes. I’m surprised by its hesitance but not the least bit surprised by its impatience. Fate or not—it’s at least giving me a choice. I can’t say I’m happy about any of this fate shit, but for this… I admire it a little too.
There’s no turning back now. I let out one more long breath. Well, here we go. Seeing as I’m not one to drag things out, I rip down all the mental walls protecting me from that deep Dark, inside… and out.
Oddly, it continues to wait.
