Queen of the Magnetland (The Elemental Phases Book 5)

by Cassandra Gannon

  Real-Mara smiled at that, even as her eyes filled with tears. Prinny always loved to cook. She was so enthusiastic about it that no one had the heart to point out she was completely talentless when it came to the culinary arts.

  Mara wanted to tell her past self not to take that hideous cake for granted.

  Her gaze slipped back over to Chason, as he cleared his throat. “I would have gone with you to the Light Kingdom, if you’d wanted.”

  “Oh, I knew that you’d be busy.” Past-Mara assured him easily.

  She’d thought that she was being considerate and not pressuring him. A year into their Match and they were already leading separate lives. It should have been a red flag, but Past-Mara was cheerfully oblivious.

  Accepting.

  Not rocking the boat.

  “I could have spent the afternoon with you.” Chason pressed. “Being your Match is my primary duty.”

  Past-Mara stifled an eye roll at the oh-so-romantic sentiment.

  Real-Mara blinked. She knew Chason better, now. Years of living together had made her the universe’s foremost expert on the man. Reading the different notes in his voice was easier than reading the expressions on his stoic face or the actual words that he said. Mara always did better with auditory stimulation. That was Chason’s disgruntled tone.

  He was… hurt. Unhappy that she hadn’t invited him.

  Had Chason wanted to come to the party?

  She would have loved for him to be there. Mara just found it easier for both of them not to press for more than Chason was willing to give. It was far better not to expect things.

  “We had to coordinate the defenses today.” Berke snapped at his son. “There was no time for you to be traipsing off to the Light Kingdom. Your Match was right not to bother you with it.” He actually sent Mara a stiff nod.

  Real-Mara snorted. At first, she’d tried desperately to please Chason’s father. But it soon became clear that the less she cared about Berke’s approval, the more she seemed to earn it. Within months of moving into the Magnet Fortress, she’d been tuning out his complaints and he began to admire her “feminine independence.”

  The two of them developed an uneasy truce and mutual respect for each other. By the time the man died, Mara had actually come to care for the old goat. She still missed him. Mara was the only one who could make Berke smile and he had taught her everything she knew about developing a thicker skin.

  Chason always seemed baffled by their relationship.

  Now, Chason frowned over at his father as past-Mara began to reread her birthday cards. Lost in her own world, that Mara missed Chason glancing at her and sighing. “Perhaps next year, you can have your party here.” He suggested.

  “How much would that cost?” Berke demanded.

  “If the future Queen of the Magnetland wishes to have a celebration, then we’ll have a celebration.” Chason shot back.

  That was the harsh, inflexible tone he rarely used with his father.

  Berke’s eyes narrowed.

  “The Light Kingdom is fine.” Mara smiled, playing peacemaker. “I’d rather spend my birthday at home, anyway.”

  “See?” Berke aimed another approving nod in her direction. “The girl wishes to be with her family. They can pay for the frivolous party.”

  “The Magnet Phases are her family.” Chason bit off. He looked back at her with something so much like longing that Real-Mara could have cried. “This is your home, Mara. Here with me.”

  Real-Mara’s head tilted, studying the intent look in his eyes.

  Around her, the scene shifted. Mara saw herself sitting on the side of her bed, staring at a home pregnancy test displaying a little minus sign. This could have been any one of a thousand times. Mara had desperately wanted a baby for decades, but it just never seemed to happen.

  “It’s alright.” Chason stood in the doorway to between their rooms, looking helpless and strained. “We have plenty of time. Don’t be upset.”

  “I’m not.” Past-Mara lied, her eyes on that hateful stick. “It’s a disappointment, but I’m fine. We’ll just try, again.” She smiled and even Mara could see that it was forced. “It’s fine. Go to your Council meeting, Chason.”

  “I can stay.” He edged into her room and Mara suddenly saw that he wanted to stay. “We could go for a walk or…”

  “Don’t be silly.” Past-Mara got to her feet and headed across the room towards the connected bathroom. “I would never impose on your day.”

  “It’s not an imposition…” Chason began.

  But, past-Mara didn’t even hear him. “Excuse me, won’t you?” She stepped inside the bathroom and five seconds later Mara heard herself sobbing.

  She remembered this day, now. She hadn’t wanted Chason to hear her crying. Hadn’t wanted to be an overly emotional burden. So, she’d retreated into the bathroom and sat on the rug to bawl. Obviously, she’d overestimated the sound muffling qualities of a closed door.

  Chason didn’t look horrified by her tears, though. He looked distraught. He quickly crossed the room. “Mara?” He knocked on the door. “Can I come in?”

  “No.”

  The word was choked, but it was still a refusal. Chason would never go against her wishes. He reluctantly dropped his hand away from the knob and laid his forehead against the wooden surface.

  “I think I should come in.” Even pressing that much was pushing the bounds of gentlemanly conduct. “If you need me…”

  “I’m fine.” She wailed out. “Go to your meeting. I don’t need you.”

  His palm came up to cover his eyes and Mara realized she’d inadvertently hurt his feelings. “I know you don’t.” Chason sighed. “Alright, I’ll leave you alone, if that’s what you want.” He stepped back from the door. “Please, don’t be upset, though. We’ll have a child when the time is right.”

  He always said that. Failure after failure, he remained calm and optimistic. Mara had finally decided that he didn’t really want a baby. Why else would he be so nonchalant over all their unsuccessful attempts?

  Past-Mara ignored his comforting.

  After a long moment, he headed back to his own room and Mara followed him. The second his door closed, he grabbed a water pitcher off his dresser and chucked it at the wall. “Shit.”

  Mara’s eyebrows soared at the broken glass. He was upset. He just hadn’t wanted her to see it, the same way she’d gone into the bathroom to cry.

  What were they doing to each other?

  Chason let out a long breath and stalked over to the phone. He dialed a number from memory. “Freya? It’s…” It must have been the doctor’s answering system because he stopped and blew out an annoyed breath, staring up at the ceiling for fifteen seconds. Finally, he started over, “Freya, it’s Chason, of the Magnet House. My Match is crying because she isn’t pregnant. Again. You say there isn’t anything physically wrong with us, but something needs to happen here. Run some more tests or prescribe some vitamins or do whatever it is you need to do. We want a child. And I want Mara happy and smiling at me…” He trailed off tiredly. “Just call me back and we’ll make another appointment.” He hung up the phone and sat down on the edge of his bed.

  Mara frowned at how dejected he looked. “Chason, I was just upset. I don’t blame you for any of this, if that’s what you’re thinking. It’s no one fault we haven’t had a baby.”

  Chason glanced at the closed door between their rooms and shook his head. “Why do I always have to disappoint her?” He asked out loud.

  “You don’t…” Mara began, but another scene from the past began before she could finish. “Oh no.” She whispered.

  They were still in Chason’s bedroom. Only this time, the old her wasn’t crying in a bathroom. Mara knew that instantly from the look on Chason’s face.

  This was his memory of her death.

  She’d never seen anyone look so hollow and dazed and… lost. She met his eyes and saw nothing but a grief so deep it made her heart ache. He stood in his room, putt
ing on his Magnet House armor, yet he wasn’t really there, at all. It was like she was watching his body move, but Chason was no longer present inside his own skin.

  “I’m so sorry.” Mara hurried over to him. “I’m fine, darling. Don’t do this to yourself.”

  He had no idea that Daphne had saved her. He thought she’d died of the Fall. His sadness was her fault. He couldn’t hear her reassurances. How could she possibly get him to see her in the memory sharing and reassure him…?

  A knock sounded at the door and Chason didn’t even blink.

  He finished fastening his boots and reached for his breastplate as if in a trance. Somehow, Mara knew that this would be the last time he ever wore the uniform of his former life.

  Job, of the Earth House came into the room without being asked. That alone told Mara he was worried about Chason. Mara didn’t blame him.

  “Chase, we need to talk about this.” He said softly. There was a concerned look on his face.

  Nothing.

  Chason didn’t seem to notice Job had even entered.

  “Chason.” Job repeated in a firmer tone. He crossed the room to stand in front of him, forcing him to focus. “Listen to me. We’ve been putting the other victims in mass graves or pyres all week. I’m concerned that there might be some kind of backlash at this funeral you’ve planned.”

  Chason blinked, finally noticing Job was talking to him. “What?” Even his voice was a listless void.

  “I loved Mara.” Job looked nearly as drained as Chason, his ageless features drawn and tired. “God knows, I did. But, thousands of Phases are dead. Maybe more. I’m worried that the other survivors are going to attack you if you have a huge state funeral for just one woman. They might not understand.”

  “I don’t care.” Chason said as if Job was the one acting crazy.

  “I care. Too many Phases are looking for a scapegoat, right now, and you might be giving them one. The best way I can honor Mara is to make sure you’re safe. This should be a private ceremony.”

  “Thank you, Job.” Mara whispered, because he was right. Protecting Chason was exactly what she would have wanted him to do.

  “I don’t care.” Chason repeated and started for the hallway.

  “Chason…”

  “My Match will have the funeral she deserves.” Chason interrupted. He turned to look at Job over his shoulder, his purple eyes sparking with renewed life. “I don’t give a shit if anyone else likes it or not. And that includes you.”

  Job sighed and followed him out of the room. “Just be careful, alright? There are a lot of Phases gathered down there and we don’t know what they’ll do.”

  Mara hurried down the stairs after them, realizing that she was about to attend her own funeral. Again. She had no recollection of her first time at the event, but she must have been there. Sleeping in a coffin.

  Ick.

  A huge crowd of Phases, most of them dirty and exhausted, stood on the lawn of the Magnet Fortress. This had to have happened just after the Fall, given the haunted expressions of everyone who’d gathered. Still, a mountain of white roses was piled around a marble crypt bearing Mara’s name.

  Tears burned the back of her eyes.

  Chason.

  Only he could have done something so lovely for her. It was humbling.

  Job gave up on trying to reason with Chason and joined the other mourners. He moved to stand between Tharsis, of the Water House and Freya of the Cold House in the front row.

  Freya looked exhausted. As the Elementals’ foremost doctor, she’d spent the Fall trying vainly to save people who were doomed.

  Thar didn’t look much better. He stood with his hands in the pockets of his grey trousers, his face devoid of all expression. Grey was the traditional color of mourning for Phases. Mara’s funeral was awash in it. But, Thar looked completely wrong in the somber shade. The Water Phases were usually so… bright. Thar had brownish-red hair and turquoise eyes that usually sparked with intelligence and mischief.

  Now, he looked so serious.

  Mara felt terrible for causing so much sadness.

  The crowd grew quiet as Chason stepped in front of them. While most of the people at the funeral wore grey, Chason was grey. Even the purple streak at his temple seemed less vibrant.

  He held a bouquet of white roses in one hand and he carefully placed them on top of a stone coffin situated just outside the mausoleum’s door. It was a masterpiece of bas-relief sculpture. Apple blossom garlands and musical instruments decorated the sides of the perfect marble.

  It was so, so lovely, until Mara pictured her own body trapped within it.

  “My Match is gone.” Chason’s voice sounded nothing like the polite gentleman Mara knew. It was viciously unforgiving, with an echoing hollowness. “She hurt no one. She never did anything wrong. She was perfect.”

  Even for a eulogy that was going a bit far.

  “No one’s perfect, Chason.” Mara murmured.

  Is that really how he saw her? As someone flawless and good and… bland?

  He laid a palm on the coffin as if he could still feel her. “She’s gone and I’m still here. Why? Why are any of us still here? Didn’t we die with the others, in every way that matters?”

  In the back row, Mara spotted her cousin.

  Kahn shook his head in something like impatience. Frustration and anger were etched all over his face. He clearly didn’t approve of Mara being buried here in the Magnetland. Still, he wasn’t killing anyone or stealing her body, so she realized he really was trying to honor her final request and get along with Chason. That was touching.

  Chason’s bloodshot eyes looked out over the crowd. “Job told me that this funeral was too big for just one person. But, it’s not for just one person, is it? It’s for all of us. For everyone who’s gone and mostly for those of us left behind. Everything that we were taught… Everything we believed… It’s all buried here today.” He swallowed. “This funeral is for our entire way of life.”

  Mara looked around the crowd. No one seemed to resented Chason’s speech or this massive ceremony. On the contrary, they were crying and nodding at his words. They all looked at Chason like they expected him to tell them why this had happened. Like they had no idea what to do next. Like they wanted him to help them understand. People always looked to Chason for leadership.

  He was born for greatness.

  “Without my Match, I don’t give a shit what happens to any of you. Or to me. Or this kingdom. Or any other.”

  Mara’s eyebrows shot up at Chason’s uninspiring words to his waiting people.

  “Absolutely nothing matters.” Chason continued vacantly. “I imagine a lot of you feel that way. What good are any of us, now? What’s the point of going on? Why did the best of us die in the Fall and yet Parald, of the Air House still lives?”

  Even more people started nodding. Mara could see them reacting to Chason’s words. Agreeing with him. Her gaze cut over to Job and found him frowning. Or as close to frowning as Job’s impassive face got.

  “The world is over.” Chason hand slid along the carving of the coffin, fingering the ornate flowers. “We all died in the Fall. Everyone knows that. Job can talk about re-forming the Council or going on… But, why the hell should we? What’s the point?”

  Job started forward. “Chase…”

  “What?” Chason pinned him with a venomous look and Job actually hesitated. “You don’t like hearing the truth, Job? Don’t like reality crashing the fucking party?” Chason made a choked sound and Mara realized he was somewhere between hysterical laughter and heartbroken sobs. “Shit. Someone needs to face the truth. To say what we’re all thinking. This is my kingdom and she was my Match and I’ll say whatever the fuck I want! And I say: The world is over!”

  This time people cheered.

  Tharsis blinked at the sound, coming out of his cationic state long enough to focus on Chason. “Don’t.” He grabbed hold of Job’s arm, preventing him from getting any closer, while Chason st
arted pacing like an evangelical preacher with the spirit upon him. “Chason’s not himself and he’s turning the crowd.”

  “He’s going to start a riot.” Job shook his head. “Or worse. He’s obsessed with Parald. He won’t listen to me.”

  “He’s in shock.” Freya diagnosed in a stage-whisper. “This happens when a Phase loses their Match. They can’t handle the break. God only knows what sort of psychological trauma he’s under just from the Fall. We’re all going nuts from that. Add in the death of his other half and he’s got to be hanging on by a thread. If you push him too hard, he’s going to snap and he’s had a lot of training with swords, so…”

  “Yes. Thank you, Freya. I understand the problem.” Job interrupted distractedly. “How do we fix it?”

  Freya was used to being cut off. She talked a lot, so people usually had to interrupt her if they were going to get a word in edgewise.

  “I don’t think we can fix this, Job. With time, maybe Chason could learn to function without his Match. Others have survived alone. His own father did. But, Chason loved Mara so much. I honestly don’t think he can hang on long enough to even begin to adjust. They were such a true Match. I’m shocked he’s still alive, at all. It’s like something’s keeping him here.”

  Mara blinked over at Freya, astonished at that diagnoses.

  Of course Chason could go on without her.

  He had to.

  Chason gestured at Job. “Well? Explain to me why I’m wrong. Explain how this is all fair. How it’s all part of some cosmic plan.”

  The crowd began murmuring agreements.

  “Where is the righteousness in this, Job?” Chason was breathing hard. “When’s karma gonna kick in, huh? When’s good going to triumph? How am I supposed to go on with anything knowing that every fucking word I ever learned about honor and justice was bullshit?”

  “Having faith isn’t just for the easy times.” Job said quietly. “You’re not the only one suffering today, Chason. This does no good.”