Queen of the Magnetland (The Elemental Phases Book 5)

by Cassandra Gannon

  And Mara had tried to be that for him --for everyone-- but it hadn’t been enough. Now, he’d reinvented her in that tomb and he finally had what he’d always wanted: A perfect queen. Someone who made no mistakes and didn’t interrupt his orderly schedule. He and his flawless corpse bride were completely happy without her, living out their own doomed Bronte novel.

  Mara hated Bronte novels.

  The fact that Chason said he loved a dead woman, after seventy years of not saying it to her, was enraging. Well, he had said it to Mara before, in perfunctory, expected, wholly civilized ways. But, he never meant it. Chason had never just looked at her and said it with absolute conviction. Not the way he just did for his lost Match.

  And Mara couldn’t go back to trying to be that woman for him.

  She didn’t even remember how. Being dead and losing so much had changed her on a level even she didn’t fully understand, yet. A sudden and permanent shift had occurred in the tectonic plates of her very being and the landscape could never return to what it was before.

  But, since she wasn’t going anywhere, he was just going to have to get used to it.

  Whether he liked it or not, Mara was Queen of the Magnetland and she was fighting for everything that was hers.

  Including her Match.

  Chason may never have chosen her, but Mara was choosing him. This man belonged to her and she wasn’t going to just give him up to the woman in the tomb. Especially not when he’d kissed her earlier the way he’d never kissed the old Mara. With a hot and messy passion that had left both of them panting and wanting more.

  Maybe it was the Light Phase in her, but Mara wanted that wildness. She always had. She wanted him to lose control and not be able to resist her, no matter what the rules or conventions or obstacles between them. For a moment she’d had it and that gave her hope.

  Chason wanted Mara more than his Match.

  She’d felt it.

  “Sit.” He held out her chair for her. “I’ll prepared breakfast for you.”

  Mara sat down, hoping the rickety seat would hold. “You can cook, now?”

  “No.” But, he headed into the adjoining kitchen anyway.

  Wonderful.

  Mara stuck her hands in her pockets, trying to keep warm while she waited. She had to keep her coat on indoors, because most of the glass was knocked from the windows. The damp air blew in, chilling the whole fortress and listlessly blowing the dust. The dining room looked like it had been used for sword practice. All the furniture was hacked apart and the curtains were shredded straight up to the ceiling.

  It bothered her to see the Magnet Fortress in such ruins. It had always been drafty and unwelcoming, but it… meant something to her. More than she would have realized before. Mara couldn’t allow it to just wither and die. The house and the grounds had to be restored. And the Magnet Phases needed to be back here, on their own land.

  Something had to be done to save Chason and this entire kingdom.

  “So…. how long has the power been off?” She called after a while. It seemed like an obvious place to start the home improvements. He’d left the door to the kitchen propped open, so he could keep an eye on her. He seemed convinced that she’d vanish the moment his back was turned.

  She craned her neck to watch him cooking, only to wish she hadn’t. The condition of the kitchen had her wincing and trying not to think about germs.

  She’d already died once this week.

  “The power’s out?” Chason paused and squinted up at the ceiling like he just noticed that the only light in the Fortress came from the reedy grey gloom outside.

  “You should talk to the Electricity Phases about fixing it.” Mara prompted.

  “Why?”

  “Why?” She echoed blankly.

  “Why bother?”

  “Because… it’s dark in here?” It sounded like a question.

  Chason shook his head. “The whole world is dark, now.” He murmured vaguely.

  Mara tried a more direct approach. “I want the lights fixed, Chason.”

  He glanced over at her with a frown. “You do?” He lifted a shoulder, his eyes returning to the stove. “Alright. I’ll have it done, then.”

  Mara smiled.

  That hadn’t been so bad. The new her was rocking the boat and the results seemed worth it. “Thank you.” She went back to looking out the window at his answering grunt.

  His conversation was more lucid than it had been last night, but he still seemed very lost. Like her, Chason was caught somewhere between who he’d been and who he was now. Only he didn’t seem to like either version. It had been wrong of her to lose her temper out on the lawn. Chason needed her, now.

  She had to fight for him or he’d slip away.

  He came back into the room carrying two plates. “Here.” He set one down in front of her and she saw they were having scrambled eggs.

  She detested scrambled eggs. She always had.

  Mara hesitated, staring down at the unappetizing platter of food.

  “Something wrong?” Chason asked, crossing over to his own seat at the other end of the long table.

  “I’m trying to decide something.”

  “Oh?” He watched her intently. “What’s that?”

  “Well, I’m not sure if you know I dislike eggs or not. If you do know, then this another test and you’ll assume I’m not really me if I eat them. But, if you don’t know I dislike them, it would hurt your feelings if I didn’t at least pretend to eat some of the food you prepared.” She sighed. “I just can’t win.”

  Chason didn’t respond to that. His hand tightened on the arm of his chair.

  “I’m thinking it’s best to go with option two.” Mara continued thoughtfully. “Eat the eggs. I don’t think you could be laying a trap, because how would you remember what I ate for breakfast? It’s so obscure. Besides, I’m hungry enough to eat anything.”

  Purple eyes narrowed. “I know what foods you like.” He snapped. “I know that Mara never ate eggs for breakfast.”

  “Really?” That surprised her.

  “Yes.”

  “Oh.” She wasn’t sure what to say with him glowering at her, so she fell back on habit. “Alright. Well… What are your plans for the day?” One or both of them had asked that question over breakfast every day of their Phase-Match, so she didn’t even bother to wait for a response. The words were just routine. “I’m going to the Light Kingdom.”

  Chason focused on his breakfast, his jaw tight. “It’s a waste of time.”

  “If anyone would know me, it’s Kahn.” Mara wanted someone to recognize her and her cousin was her best hope.

  “Kahn is almost as crazy as I am.” Chason scoffed. “If he believes you, it’s just because he’s desperate to have his family back. He’d probably believe I was Mara, if I told him.”

  “I want to see Kahn.” Mara insisted. “And I need to visit my cousins’ graves.” She blinked hard to push back tears. Thinking about the girls hurt so much. Their deaths were still fresh for her. She cleared her throat. “Anyway, I’ll be gone for most of the day.”

  Chason’s eyes flicked to hers and then away. His manners were still impeccable, right down to buttering his toast with the proper knife. “Fine.” He said flatly.

  “While I’m gone, maybe you could find me a new mattress. I can’t sleep on the bed I died in. It’s morbid.”

  “Don’t worry. From now on, you won’t be sleeping there.”

  Mara frowned at the phrasing of that.

  “But, if you’re determined to go to the Light Kingdom, I’m going with you.” Chason continued, his face unreadable.

  She frowned. “You want to go to the Light Kingdom?”

  “I didn’t say ‘want to,’ I said ‘am.’”

  “But… why?” Mara was flabbergasted. “You’ve never gone to the Light Kingdom before.”

  “I was never invited.” He forcefully stabbed some eggs with his fork. “This time, I’m just not letting that bother me.”
<
br />   “That’s not true!” She shook her head. “You were always welcomed to come home with me. I told you that.”

  “Did you? I don’t remember it that way. Maybe because I was already home.”

  Mara’s mind went back to the memory sharing and how hurt he’d seemed when she spent her birthday with the Light Phases. “I spent most of my life in the Light Kingdom Chason, that’s why I call it home. I’m sure you feel the same way about the Magnetland.” She gestured to the desolate vista out the window. “It wasn’t a slight. It was…”

  He cut her off. “The Magnetland isn’t my home.”

  That drew her up short. “It’s not? Since when?”

  He met her eyes. “Since I met Mara. Then, she was my home. This was just the place I lived. Since she died, I’ve been homeless.”

  Mara stared at him.

  What a sad and beautiful thing to say.

  Chason went back to his breakfast. “I apologize about the eggs. I’ll get you something else to eat.”

  Mara cleared her throat. “That’s not necessary. The toast is fine.” She began, before she remembered that was something the old her would have said. “I mean, no. No, I don’t want eggs. Or toast. I want… a muffin.” She gave a decisive nod.

  Chason chewed thoughtfully. “What sort of muffin?”

  Mara had no idea. “Blueberry?” She tried. “Yes. Blueberry. With those crunchy things on top.”

  Chason laid his silverware down and got to his feet. “Wait here.” He jumped out of room.

  Mara’s mouth parted in surprise.

  Fifteen seconds later, Chason reappeared. “Here.” He set a blueberry muffin with crunchy things on her plate and then crossed back to his own chair.

  “Where in the world did you find this?”

  “Paris, I think. One of those human cities with the bakeries.”

  She couldn’t believe it. “You went to the human realm and got me a muffin?”

  “Yes.” He resumed poking at his eggs.

  “You didn’t steal it did you?”

  He snorted. “Stealing from humans isn’t even stealing. Everyone does it, given the opportunity.”

  “How can you say that?!” Chason, of the Magnet House had never before taken so much as a flower without permission. “I never stole anything from them and I had many opportunities. I always knew it was wrong to…” Mara stopped, appalled at what she’d just revealed.

  “You were saying about your interactions with the humans?” Chason prompted snidely, when she didn’t continue.

  Mara nearly pegged the muffin at his head. “My Chason wouldn’t steal. That is my point.”

  “You never had Chason.”

  He was right about that, pitiful as it was. Chason had never really been hers. All his love went to someone she’d never been.

  “I don’t plan to spend the rest eternity with you sniping at me, you know.” Mara unfolded her muffin wrapper with grave dignity and took a bite. It was delicious, damn him. “We’re going to have to reach some kind of understanding.”

  “Fine. Admit you’re not my Match and we’ll go from there.” He eyed her with grim challenge.

  She considered that, weighing her options. “Alright.”

  “…alright?”

  “Alright.” She shrugged. “I’m not your Match. Satisfied?”

  He hadn’t been expecting that. Expressions flickered across his face faster than she could read them. Shock and anger and panic and disappointment. A disappointment so deep it left her chest aching.

  “You lied? You’re telling me you’re not Mara, now?”

  “I’m telling you I’m not your Match.”

  That was actually the truth. She wasn’t Chason’s Match, at the moment. He’d pledged himself to the dead woman. You couldn’t be a Match to someone who was already a Match to someone else.

  Not until you broke them up, anyway.

  His eyes narrowed, more distrustful than ever. “Who are you, then?

  “I haven’t exactly figured that out.” She took another bite of muffin. “This is a very good recipe. Plenty of blueberries.”

  Chason shook his head. “You’re lying.”

  “No, I’m not. I really do think the extra berries…”

  “You’re lying about not being my Match!”

  “So you think I am Mara?”

  Chason began to look hunted. “I think you’re lying about everything.” He finally decided. “There’s energy between us. Different that between me and Mara, but it’s ‘real.’ That means you and I are… something to each other. You’re lying.”

  “Maybe you have a double Match.” Mara suggested. “Some people do get two, you know.”

  “I had one. The only one. And you’re not her.”

  “Yes, you’ve made that very clear.” She gave him a pleasant smile. “Did you happen to steal any tea while you were in France?”

  He slammed his fork down. “Don’t you fucking do that. Don’t you go behind that goddamn mask. You’re pulling back. I can feel it. You think I can’t feel it?”

  She arched a brow. “Well, you never could before.”

  Chason glowered at her, understanding that remark. “Mara never held back from me.”

  “I’m just saying that you two were in such complete synch that you can’t even recognize her, now. Am I her? Am I not her?” She popped a blueberry into her mouth. “You’re not a hundred percent sure either way. What does that say about your bond? Honestly, I think you two had a much better relationship once Mara was gone and you could reshape her into the Match you wanted. Only now that you have me, she’s not what you wanted, after all.”

  Chason shoved back from the table. “I don’t have to listen to this.”

  “You kissed me.” Mara wasn’t letting up. “Not her. Me. You never kissed her like that. Things have changed. That’s what you were saying last night. You’re not the same man you were and she’s not what you want now…”

  “I loved my Match!”

  Mara shrugged wearily at his emphatic tone. He wasn’t listening. “Maybe you did, but you and I still weren’t happy. Either one of us. You know that.” She set her muffin down, her appetite gone. “There was always something missing.”

  “That was my fault.” The anger seemed to drain from him. “I know it was. We should have played checkers.”

  He’d said that before, right before she’d gone into the coma. Mara had no clue what it meant. “Checkers?”

  “Yes!” He nodded like the game was the solution to all their problems. “We could play, now, even.”

  What was he talking about? “I don’t want to play checkers with you, Chason.”

  The words seemed to hit him like bullets. He flinched, his whole face going taunt. “I know.” He blew out a long breath and turned to stare out the window for a moment… towards the tomb. “I know you don’t want to play.” His tone was subdued and sat back down. “Eat your breakfast.”

  “I’m sorry.” Somehow she’d hurt him. Mara instantly tried to make it right. Hurting him was the last thing she wanted. “I didn’t mean it. We can play checkers if you want.”

  He made a dismissive sound, like he wanted to drop the whole thing. “Forget it. It was nothing.”

  “Really. It wouldn’t be a problem, at all. I’m sure the board’s still around.”

  “No, it’s not. I burned it.”

  “You burned a checkerboard…?” She trailed off with a shake of her head, because it was best not to ask. “Well, we’ll get another, then.”

  “We can’t.” His eyes went unfocused. “It’s too late. Mara asked me to play checkers once and I was doing something for my father. I don’t even remember what. I told her no.”

  “Such a small thing isn’t worth you being upset over.”

  “It wasn’t small! It was the game I wanted to play and I missed it. I never had another chance. I was busy and distracted and I said no.” He swallowed. “I thought there would be more time. I always thought we’d have a tomorrow, but
then it didn’t come. I would give anything to go back and play that game with her… And I don’t even know how to play checkers.”

  Mara wanted to cry. Poor Chason. She needed to show him the way out of this darkness. “I’m sorry.” She told him again, because she didn’t know what else to say. He wasn’t going to let her comfort him.

  “I told you, it was my fault, not yours. It’s all been my fault.” He cleared his throat, wanting to change the subject. “By the way, did I tell you Uriel found a half human Match?”

  “I don’t care about that at the moment.”

  “You’ll care when their children help sustain the Wood House and we don’t all die of suffocation.”

  “I want to talk about us.”

  He made a scoffing sound. “Which versions of us?”

  “These versions. The real versions.”

  “‘Real.’” He gave a humorless chuckle. “I swear to God that word haunts me. Tell me, what is ‘real,’ princess?”

  My love for you.

  The answer was instantaneous and she ignored it. It wasn’t what he wanted to hear. Yet. “This muffin is real.” She told him instead.

  “How do you know? How do you know you aren’t imagining it?”

  “Why would I imagine a muffin?”

  “Why wouldn’t you imagine a muffin? Why wouldn’t you imagine all of this? For all you know, you’re still in a coma. Have you thought about that? How do you know this is happening, at all? Maybe it’s just a dream.”

  Okay, perhaps they should’ve talked about Uriel. “It’s more like a nightmare, then. Seriously, I don’t want to argue the philosophical basis of reality. I want to discuss how you and I are going to move forward.”

  Chason squinted in deep though. “Is it possible for a hallucination to hallucinate, do you think? If you’re imagining me, why am I still crazy? Because you’re imagining me that way? Why are you imagining me crazy?”

  Mara had had enough. “If I was imagining you anything, it would shirtless. Also, you’d have shaved.”

  That got his attention. He glanced at her in surprise, breaking free of the chaotic thoughts that threatened to pull him under. “Mara wouldn’t have said that.” He blurted out.

  “No?”

  “No.” Purple eyes glowed hot, as if he liked her mildly suggestive remark. “She was too much of a lady to notice if I was shirtless or not.”