Scales: Book 1 of the Fate and Fire Series

by Amity Green

  The pages of the book were blank after that. I knew it might change, but I was comfortable with it for the time being. The book blessed me by unblocking memories that were too painful for my mind to replay. The tome was a hypnotist. A few of my early memories were free and my question answered like replaying a scene from a movie.

  The little blond boy beside me in the orphanage intake photograph sprung to life in my mind’s eye, singing Christmas carols while we strung cranberries and popcorn. He popped the head off my favorite baby doll then cried because I cried when he did it. He held my little hands tightly in his determined grip and danced me around a tiny kitchen to Eric Clapton singing “Change the World”.

  Our dad worked hard. Our mom loved us better than anyone else could have. We lived at the whim of the open road, travelling the country from Daddy’s new job, to new job.

  I loved the memories despite the pain. Wiping my eyes, I untied my shoes, placed them beside me and stood on the edge of the limestone wall, looking out across the lake at sunset. The wind picked up, gusting through my hair and blowing my stained camisole against my aching chest. I’d never forget the rich, loamy smell of the wind coming off that the loch that day as I continued to replay those memories. I had the answer to where my family had gone. To why I was eventually left with no one.

  The fiery wreck that killed our parents destroyed the only home we’d ever known when the truck and travel trailer exploded from the fuel spill. Being a loner and a runaway, our parents loved each other, us kids, and no one else. They were all they had, along with Robbie and me.

  The sun set lower and lower in time with the pounding of my heart, winking out as my wings sprouted in lavender twilight. I sucked a chilled breath in through my fangs and smiled.

  We’d been fifty-five miles north of Austin, Texas when Change first drew her bow along my strings of time. Fate gave a me a long, slow smile that day, holding my young life, rocking my cradle to the melody of Change. I’d been wrong about them both. Change and I were no strangers, we’d just lost touch. And Fate, well she’d better buckle up. It was time for me to fly.

  Epilogue

  The book sat under my bed, where Ezra had kept it. No one but Peter and I knew. I’d replaced the wards on my own, by simply asking how to do it. I found the ease of power to do that really unsettling. Power created monsters, I’d learned.

  I’d asked the pages questions for hours, getting no answers. After a full day of trying I figured it out. The answers weren’t the problem, it was the fact that I still asked questions I knew better than asking. My family was gone. That was that. But I wouldn’t stop asking about Teigan. I’d shake the book like a Magic 8 Ball until I learned his fate and how to find him.

  The tome would not make me all-powerful or all-knowing. I was grateful. That would be a large burden to bear for someone who merely wanted happiness around her. But then, happiness is not a stagnant thing. Most states of mind are fleeting, dependent on other elements. I breathed in deep, steel and resolve behind my desire to be good in the world, and not blight like Kai was.

  I will be a blessing, not a bane.

  There was one question I managed to get an answer to. The human body would not survive a reversal of base molecular change. My mortality was replaced by a stone statue. I didn’t know if anyone else had thought to ask, or if I was ahead of the curve because I had access to the book. I wanted to know if I had the option of being human again. I’d found my answer. We would be gargoyles forever.

  Peter approached the window where I stood gazing at beautiful London while she slept. We’d been back for nearly four days, and I’d let the memory from my family’s car accident, the one that had claimed the lives of Robbie’s and my parents, replay in my mind whenever it started, beginning to end. I didn’t cry anymore. A gift shouldn’t make me cry.

  “How’s today?”

  “It’s good.” I couldn’t help but smile, remembering the first time I’d seen him. He’d been Garged Out, and had bowed like a Victorian gentleman when he introduced himself to me. This Peter was so different. The playful demeanor was gone, replaced by steel and protective determination. He’d shown me he was brilliant. Timeless.

  We’d both changed so much. Old Tessa retained a child’s heart, innocent, the center of her own universe, be it a simple one. New Tessa saw what the universe could offer if the right elements and entities aligned. And it scared the hell out of me that I liked it. Peter and I embraced Change, together in our solitude. Destroying the boundaries of youth and fear together.

  He must have sensed my thoughts because he pulled one of my hands up to place a soft kiss in my palm. I closed my hand around it.

  “Peter,” I said quietly. “What am I? Really?” I searched his eyes for tell-tale signs that he knew something he wasn’t willing to tell me.

  He ran a thumb over my cheek. “We’ll figure the rest out as we go.” He smiled down at me. “We should get going soon. Quite the drive, yes?”

  We’d decided to go back to Logan Castle to bring Petra back to London for a while. I was anxious to see how the rebuild was coming along. I hoped I could help for a while before we headed back to London. I zipped up a lavender hoodie, shouldered my bag, and we headed downstairs.

  Brea was at the register, sipping on a mug of hot chocolate. She’d proclaimed Earl Grey “was not very tasty.” Her face lit with a smile when she saw me. “Hey!”

  Crispin stood behind the counter with her, ready to learn to run the register. I grinned. He was my favorite of the Clan so far. We were becoming good friends. And then there was the fact that he’d saved my life. Big Brownie points for Crispin.

  “Did you get ahold of your parents last night?” I asked Brea. She’d been leaving messages since the day we left Scotland. Their housekeeper was in charge because the couple had taken an early season ski trip to Colorado.

  “Yes, finally. They got the postcard you guys sent out just before they left. Things were a little tense because I only called once after my flight landed, but they’re better now. And they like the idea of you and I working at a bookstore in SoHo.”

  “Nice. We’ll get Internet in here so we can Skype with them.”

  The bard’s bells jingled at the shop entrance. Brea stepped around the sales counter to greet the morning patrons. A man stood there, tall and wearing a chopper style hat. He had a silver beard and close cut hair. He wore blue jeans and a white shirt with plain, brown shoes.

  Dazed familiarity drew me toward him as Brea pointed my direction, and the man stepped farther inside the bookstore. Bright blue eyes sparkled. A wide smile broke out across his face.

  I began to cry and run, dropping my backpack. My beloved Professor Douglas was in London, holding his arms open wide for me to fall right into. He smelled like his office, stale coffee and Old Spice. I crushed myself as close as I could get to him. He chuckled.

  Without letting him go, I wiped my eyes, staring up through tears into the white gaze of Ezra Finfrock.

  “They say time heals. I doubt that. Time kicks dirt over open sores. They fester, and grow. When opportunity arrives, you do your best, that’s the trick. Desperation will create an opportunist in the best of character, Tessa.” He rocked me in his arms. “My dear girl.”

  The End

  If You Liked …

  If you liked Scales, you might also enjoy:

  Stand Alone

  The Witcher Chime

  The Fate and Fire Series

  Scales

  Phantom Limb Itch

  (coming summer of 2018)

  Soul Count

  (coming fall of 2018)

  Byx

  (coming early 2019)

  About the Author

  Amity Green is an award-winning essayist and author of urban fantasy novels and horror stories. She has enjoyed professions as a truck driver, bartender, and raft guide, and now works as assistant to Kevin J. Anderson. Her debut novel, Scales, was released in 2013 and updated in 2018. A Colorado native, Amity resides i
n Manitou Springs with her dog, Dempsey, and cats Milk Dud and Shadow, where she produces works of urban fantasy and renovates her historic Victorian home. When not writing, she hikes, gardens, and tries to quit wasting time on social media.

  Join Amity’s readers group at amitygreen.ink or by emailing her bookworms at:

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