She didn’t understand that. How could she?
“Fine!” She retreated back into the bushes, her precious jar of bugs clutched to her chest. “Go ‘way, if you want! Leave me awone!”
The continued sound of her weeping cut through him more sharply than the ax that had nearly taken off his head. He folded like wet cardboard, his intention to be firm vanishing. All he wanted was her forgiveness.
“Don’t cry. Please, don’t cry.” Raiden tried to spot her through the leaves. “Come back out and we can talk.”
“NO!”
He’d always been terrible at communicating with people. This conversation with her was the longest he’d talked to anyone in centuries and he was making a mess of it.
Anger roiled up inside. What had he ever done to God that he was always so cursed? To give him this girl and then force him to break her heart was the cruelest blow in an already long list of times fate had screwed him over. Why could he have nothing?
Not even a stolen half hour, on his last day alive, to play with bugs?
“Fee, please listen.” Raiden hadn’t begged at his own execution, but he was willing to try, now. “Before I go, I want you to understand. Please.”
“Hate you! Hate you! Hate you!”
He hated himself, too.
Raiden ran a hand over his face. “I know you do.” And it was for the best.
What was he trying to accomplish? If she was angry at him, she wouldn’t be as hurt when he died. The whole point was to make it easier for her. There was just one thing left to do.
Raiden got to his feet. “I brought you something.” He carefully laid it on the ground. “A present.”
“Don’t carewa.”
Raiden ignored that. “I bought it long ago. For you.” He’d gotten it for his Match and he’d planned to leave it for her with no explanation of where it came from. But, now, egoistical as it was, he wanted her to keep it as a reminder of him. She was so young that his face and name would fade from her. When she looked at his gift, she would at least remember that he’d once existed. “No matter what else happens, know that I loved you. Always.”
“Liar.” She retorted bitterly. “Leaving me. Said we woon’t a Match no more and…”
He cut her off. “Fee, there is nothing I love as I love you.”
She didn’t believe him. “Well, I don’t love you, anymowah!” She decided at a yell. “I’m getting ‘nother Match. Betta Match. So there.”
“I hope that you do find someone else.” The thought had his stomach churning, but it would be the best thing for her. That was why he was doing this. To ensure her life would be long and full. Selfishly, though, he hated the idea of her loving another man. No one would ever be worthy of her. “When I’m gone, you’ll need to move on. Never feel bad about that. You’ll have so much time and I want it to be happy. I want you to do everything. Have everything. You deserve that.”
Nothing but angry silence.
Raiden sighed tiredly, knowing it was hopeless. She wasn’t going to relent and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it. A toddler had just defeated the most deadly assassin in the realm. No matter how horribly he died tonight, it would be less painful than hurting his Match. Watching her cry.
As usual, his fate fucking sucked.
Raiden scrubbed a palm over his scalp and gave up. “Alright, then.” He was just making it worse for her by pressing. He turned back towards the house and hesitated. “Good-bye, Fee.” He glanced back over his shoulder, wishing he could have one last look at her. “Just please try and remember that everything I do, I do because it’s best for you.”
Whack!
A rock hit him right between the eyes.
“Drop dead, jerwk!” She bellowed.
She’d brained him. Raiden reached up to touch his bleeding forehead in amazement. His Match had honestly just brained him with a garden stone. Spoiled, stubborn, very assertive little brat. Through his emotional misery and burgeoning headache, Raiden’s gave a wry smile of reluctant admiration. Such a shame he wouldn’t get to see her grown-up.
One day his Match would be a hell of a woman.
As he headed for the door, another vision filled his mind, even worse than before.
Kingdom after kingdom flashes before his eyes.
The volcanic expanse of the Fire House still glows red with rivers of magma, but they are all that moves. The place that Elemental theology deems the furnace of creation is now devoid of life.
The military order of the Wood Kingdom is thrown into wild anarchy and unanswered prayers.
The cliff dwellings of the Stone Phases are as empty as the Anasazi dwellings in the human realm.
The Cold Kingdom is melted, much of the once icy land submerged in a sea that was never supposed to exist.
On and on it goes, until finally he sees that even the Color House has gone grey. The rainbows here are as dead as the rest of this world and Raiden wants to scream at the monochrome vision of hell.
No, no, no.
Fee was supposes to be safe here. He’d seen it. She was supposed to be safe.
But there is nowhere that is safe in this future. Everywhere, in every kingdom, there is nothing but death.
Unfortunately, while Raiden was gaping at his new vision in horror and frantically trying to think of a way to stop it all from happening… it was pretty damn simple for Zakkery, of the Smoke House to walk up behind him and knock him out cold.
Chapter Eight
You need only listen. Pleasure is the law. I love music passionately…
It rushes freely forth, a boundless art, endless as the elements,
the air, the sky, the ocean.
Claude Debussy
The woman who claimed to be Mara stood by his Match’s grave.
In the frenzied, endless, empty days after Mara’s death, Chason had had the sepulcher built to exacting specifications. It was made of pristine white marble, with dancing nymphs and musical instruments carved into its sides. It had been created by three Stone Phase artisans, Chason forcing them to redo any part that he wasn’t completely satisfied with. Repeatedly. Around the crypt grew a garden of perfect ivory roses, meticulously tended and cared for amid the rest of the grey landscape.
Ironically, the tomb was the only spot in the Magnetland that was still alive.
Before Mara’s body was stolen, Chason had spent countless hours sitting by the silent crypt. It had always been the place he felt closest to her. And now she was standing there in front of it.
Except, she wasn’t really her.
Probably.
After Raiden had left, Chason had returned to the bedroom and laid down next to the woman, again. It was wrong, but he’d done it anyway. He’d stretched out on top of the blankets, situating himself between the woman and door.
In the darkened room, he heard nothing but the gentle sound of her breathing and the sensual movements of her body against the sheets. Even unconscious, she somehow managed to maneuver her way against his side. Her head wound up resting on his shoulder and, for the first time in two years, Chason felt… right.
Sometime around midnight, he’d finally nodded off, his cheek resting on the top of her head. When he’d jolted awake again, it was morning and she was gone.
…Which instantly sent him into a complete meltdown. His body had started shaking, his powers intensifying, his mind fracturing…
He would have fallen into the dark pit of madness if not for another note. It had been resting on his chest and, when he leapt to his feet, it fell right onto his boot. He didn’t remember swooping down to pick it up. It was just suddenly in his hand and he was trying to focus on the curly, feminine writing on the small page.
Gone for a walk. You needed your rest. Still real.
Chason’s head had whipped around to look out the window. Sure enough, he’d immediately spotted her walking across the misty grey landscape, dressed in a purple argyle coat and matching scarf.
That was much too far away.
/>
His only thought had been to reach her. Now. Chason had instantly jumped to Mayport Beach and then back to the Magnetland’s lawn. Magnet Phases couldn’t jump from place to place within the same kingdom, so taking the human detour was the fastest way to get down there. Even those extra six seconds seemed like an eternity.
He caught up with her at Mara’s grave, pushing straight through one of the rosebushes to reach her faster. “What are you doing?” He demanded, resisting the urge to grab her close.
It had been like that since he first touched the woman. He couldn’t stand for her to be more than a few inches away from him. Even a small distance left him tense and on constant guard to snatch her back if she tried to get away.
She turned to look up at him as he stepped closer. Much closer than was acceptable in civilized company. He crowded her personal space in a way no Magnet House gentleman ever would with a lady.
She didn’t ask him to back-up. “Did you have any… dreams last night?”
“No. What? No.” He looked her up and down making sure she was safe and still there. “Not that I can remember. Why?”
She studied him for a beat and then shook her head. “I guess it was just me who had them. Never mind.” She pointed at the immaculate white tomb. “You did this for me.”
It wasn’t a question, but he nodded anyway. “Yes.” Chason had to steel himself against her gaze. Purity and aloofness. It was an expression that he was so used to. Mara always looked at him like that. But, there was something new added into the mix, now. Welcome, maybe? Surprise? Relief? Need?
Whatever it was, it made his body jolt.
She stared at him for a long beat and then turned her attention back to the sepulcher’s inscription:
Mara, of the Magnet House
Beloved,
Forever and Then Some
The Stone Phase craftsmen had wanted a much longer epitaph. Their suggestions had included Chason’s name, and Mara’s title, and dates, and quotes, and all kinds shit that had nothing to do with Mara. With who she was and how she’d affected the world.
Chason had ignored their suggestions and composed that much shorter message, straight from him broken heart. It was the sentiment he should have returned to her that last day she’d been alive.
Phases who saw it sometimes frowned at how sparse the engraving was, thinking that Mara’s grave warranted more poetry or flowery sentiment. Chason didn’t care. There was only one person who needed to understand it.
He watched the woman, gauging her reaction to the tomb.
“It’s beautiful.” She whispered, her eyes still on the bare words. “I never expected you to do something like this for me.”
“Mara would have known that I’d make sure she rested in worthy spot.”
Her shoulders squared. For some reason, bringing up Mara seemed to aggravate her more and more. Perhaps she was feeling guilty.
“No, I really didn’t know it.” She glanced up at him, again. “Thank you, though. I didn’t want to be buried in that graveyard.”
He didn’t have an answer for that. Instead, he focused on the necklace hanging down the front of her coat. He’d come up with a new list of questions during the night and the first one centered on that ugly thing. Raiden had said it was powerful, but Chason didn’t feel anything.
“You claim that someone named Daphne, of the Time House gave that to you?” He nodded towards the necklace, disliking that it even touched her.
“She did give it to me.” Chason could tell by her tone that she didn’t appreciate the way he’d phrased the question. “It’s not a ‘claim,’ it’s the truth. Just before the end, she jumped into my room and put it around my neck.”
Whether Chason believed this woman or not, the idea of a stranger invading her room when she was completely unprotected aggravated him. It might have saved her life, but there was no way that had been Daphne’s primary goal. That Time Phase must have had another agenda.
“The Fire House is looking for a lost necklace of great power. They say Zakkery has it.”
“Well, Zakkery didn’t give me this one.” She insisted. “Daphne did.”
“Either way, you shouldn’t wear it. Who the hell knows what it does.”
“I tried taking it off and I can’t. There isn’t even a clasp.” She turned the chain to show him a continuous line of links. “I think once it goes on, it stays on.”
Chason debated trying to rip it off of her with his powers, but silver wasn’t magnetic. There had to be a way. Job might know, but Chason still didn’t want to involve him. The Earth King would be all over this whole situation, interfering in Chason’s life and kingdom and woman.
Chason’s woman.
Ending the universe was still a doable option for him and he’d crash the whole damn thing before he gave her up.
“Did this Daphne say anything else?” He tried.
“No.” She frowned. “Well, she did say I’d be needed in the future.” She wrapped her arms around her body and looked around the deserted remnants of the Magnetland. “I don’t know what she expected me to do, though. This is such a terrible time. Even the clouds are flat. What can I do to fix everything that’s gone wrong?”
Chason followed her gaze, not liking what he saw when he pictured it through her eyes.
Had he really let his lands deteriorate so far? When he’d been heading the Reprisal, he hadn’t paid attention to the state of the kingdom. The quiet decay had seemed almost reasonable, considering Mara was gone. Why should anything thrive without her?
He remembered a vague feeling of annoyance when Lansing, of the Dust House tore out the trees that Chason’s mother had planted. His second-in-command had wanted to create an area for training exercises and, instead of using any of the Magnet Kingdom’s vast open areas, Lansing decided it put it right where the shady glen had been.
But, aside from a brief flash of sadness when he looked over the desolate spot of dirt where trees once grew… nothing about the kingdom had registered with Chason.
Mara would be disappointed in that.
“The clouds…” Chason cleared his throat, “the Cloud House fell and the pictures disappeared from them. You can no longer see the shapes of dogs and swords and horses. That’s why they seem flat.”
“Daphne mentioned the clouds, but I didn’t understand what she meant. She also said something about…” The woman frowned, like she was trying to remember. “Get Smart?”
“The TV show?” Why did that seem oddly familiar?
“That can’t be right.” The woman decided with a sigh. “Let me think about it some more. It was so confusing in those last few minutes.”
Khaos.
Back in the 1960s, Chason and Mara had sometimes watched Get Smart in the Council’s anteroom. Meetings always started a few minutes late and the TV was just outside his office, in a small public area. It always seemed to playing that silly show.
The villains were called Khaos.
That was what this woman was trying to remember. Khaos. Not the fictional spy organization, but the all-powerful monster who’d held all the nothingness in creation until Hope, of the Fire House killed her.
The necklace had belonged to Kingu’s mother.
That couldn’t possibly be good.
Chason went back to staring at the crypt. “Have you remembered anything that happened before you woke up in the Smoke Kingdom?”
“No. Just shadows and voices.”
“Do you remember anything else from your coma, then?”
“Music.” Her mouth curved. “I fell asleep thinking of music and I think I heard that song the entire time I was gone.”
A chill shot through him. He wasn’t going to ask which song. There was no need.
He already knew what she’d say.
The woman stared at the crypt as if she didn’t even see it. As if she was envisioning the tents, tables and flowers that had covered that exact spot on their Phazing Day. When Chason and Mara had danced under the firewor
ks, while the Andrew Sisters sang.
Chason couldn’t breathe.
No.
She started humming, her lips moving with the lyrics. Just the eight words of the title.
I’ll Be With You in Apple Blossom Time.
“No!” Chason screamed it, his hands coming up to cover his ears against the music of his dreams and nightmares. Her soft voice sounded like magic and love and home. He couldn’t take it. His mind felt like it would shatter into a thousand broken shards. He reeled back, his chest aching and body hunching in on itself. “Stop! Fucking stop!”
Her shocked gaze flew to him. “Chason? My God, are you alright?”
“Don’t sing!” He roared. “Not in her voice. I can’t…” He squeezed his eyes shut against the pain. “Ah, Christ.” Grief and frustration ate at him, his temper sparking. “I can put up with you looking like her, and smelling like her, and feeling like her, but you can’t have Mara’s goddamn song!”
Her lips tightened into an angry line. “It’s my goddamn song.” She retorted. “I picked it out for my Phazing Day. I had the original record of it, before you broke it. It’s the song I sing, because I like it. You aren’t going to take it from me and give it to that,” she made a wild gesture at the sepulcher, “that idealized memory of me you buried. I won’t lose that, too!”
Chason’s hands fell from his ears as he realized her eyes were glowing at him.
That was a Light House trait. When their emotions ran high, their ebony eyes would light up in little sparks. Nobody really understood why it happened, but it would have been impossible to fake. He’d only ever seen it happen with Mara a handful of times and it hadn’t been in beautiful explosions like this. It had been so much tamer.
But then, Mara had never gotten mad at him before. She’d occasionally become irritated and then promptly apologized as if her brief flash of temper was a lapse in manners. But this woman was flat out furious and ready to battle him to the death over a song.
To his eternal shame, he found that incredibly arousing.
“What do you want from me?” He got out, hating himself for desiring her so much. The first time he’d touched her in the Smoke Phase jail, his body had screamed for her. Last night in the darkness, he’d been hypnotized by the feel of her hand in his. But, this was in the bright light of day and still wanted her.
Queen of the Magnetland (The Elemental Phases Book 5) Page 15
