Enthroned by Amethysts (A Dance with Destiny Book 3)

by JK Ensley

  “But how did you know that?” Mika asked, puzzled.

  “Because, little one, not a single eye strayed to the beautiful young girl dancing circles around their Emperor. He knew you were there, yes. But no one else did. Has he ever seen you? Or does he believe you to be a spirit?”

  “He has only ever seen me when I speak or sleep. No one can see me until then. He wishes me to constantly hum when we’re alone, so that he may look upon me. He is my constant guardian and companion.”

  “Yet he parted with you now,” Jenevier said, a slight smile accompanying her words. “And why is that? Does he wish you to spy on me?”

  The girl blushed and Jenevier couldn’t help but giggle.

  “Other than this, you never leave his side?”

  “No, Milady, not since the moment he stepped foot in my village a few days past.”

  “I see.” Jenevier checked the temperature of the water. “So you loved him immediately, then.”

  Mika blushed crimson. “Yes, I did.”

  “Musashi is merely a man. Thus, he cannot see you unless you allow it. This I understand. But can he hear you, as I can?”

  “No, Lady Jenevier, he cannot. He’s a very perceptive man so he can sense much. Yet he cannot read thoughts.”

  “But you thought he could, did you not?” She stepped into the tub, easing her weary body down into its warmth. “Is that not how he learned of your amazing talents?”

  “Yes. I only revealed my secret ability to him because I believed I had finally met someone who could share in this strangest of talents. But he isn’t like me.” She had been looking down as she spoke, but jerked her head back up to face Jenevier. “Yet, he did not judge me cruelly. He did not mock me nor did he shun me because of it.”

  No, he only fears you, Jenevier thought.

  “Wha-what did you say?”

  “Remove worries, my child. I understand completely. I, too, am one who is feared because I’m different—born different. My own brothers aren’t always at ease around me. Unknown things can be troublesome at best, and just plain scary to most.”

  “Apologies, I meant no disrespect. It’s only, well, it’s just, I’ve never met someone… like me.”

  Mika bowed her head. Jenevier took her tiny chin in her hand, raising it until the little Shinobi ninja was staring straight into the angelic woman’s enchanting eyes.

  She smiled warmly at the girl. “And now you have.”

  The child’s eyes grew wide with instant admiration and devotion.

  “Now, didn’t you mention something about some lavender water?” Jenevier winked at her.

  The girl was all giggles as she ran from the room of her newest friend. She returned shortly carrying a small bottle, and poured the fragrant contents into the tepid water surrounding Jenevier’s tired and swollen body.

  The smell was intoxicating. She filled her lungs with the joy of it. “Ahh, you are mine own little Angel, Mika. No matter the reason I was brought here, I’m blessed just to know you. In the grander scheme of life, sometimes bad things happen to good people through no fault of their own. They cannot reason it or rationalize it, for they can find no just cause in their own heart. Yet it happened, all the same.” She closed her eyes and leaned her head back. “People can become angry or depressed or they can withdraw completely. It’s a sad thing to watch and an even sadder thing to live through. If a person could but simply step back and watch how things work out within the vast scope of their destiny, all would be well. This is an exceedingly hard thing for most people, Mika.” She opened one eye and looked sideways at the lovely little girl. “It’s a rare being indeed who can truly accomplish it without faltering. Often, when people don’t try to see the good things ahead in life, they make poor decisions. That alters their destiny, little one. And then the bad thing that happened in their life was all for naught. They make the wrong choices, go down the wrong paths. They never end up finding the wonderfully miraculous thing that was simply lying there, waiting on them to stumble upon it.”

  Mika’s eyebrows were furled in confusion.

  Jenevier laughed. “Look at it this way, child. Have you ever played with ants or watched them while they worked?”

  “Oh yes, many times,” Mika said happily. “I don’t always understand what they’re trying to do, but I find them incredibly fascinating.”

  Jenevier chuckled as Mika’s eyes grew ever wider. She could see just how young this little girl truly was inside. It reminded her of her own blind naïve gaiety she’d treasured in her youth.

  “Very good. Now, imagine this. While you’re watching the ants, you can see their whole world, everything around them. You see what lies ahead and what’s sneaking up from behind. You have knowledge concerning their future they couldn’t possibly conceive from their viewpoint on the ground.”

  “Yes, I understand what you’re saying.”

  “Very good.” Jenevier couldn’t contain the broad smile Mika had so easily brought to her face. “Now, imagine this. What if a small pebble, seemingly a large boulder to an ant, rolled upon their path, crushing one of their brothers, blocking the way to their expected future?”

  Mika gasped. “That would be horrible.”

  “It would seem so, if you were the ant. Yet you stand afar and you can actually see what else happened when the pebble rolled onto their charted path. It revealed the way to an enormous sweet cake. One they would have completely missed were it not for the treacherous stone’s chaos. You see, the ants are working daily to bring food back home to their wives and little babies, so to speak. Food they must find, or all their loved ones will suffer. Some will even die.”

  The young girl’s wide eyes showed a glimmer of understanding. Jenevier smiled again at the charming little lady she was fast falling in love with.

  “Now, imagine what would happen if the ants stopped working and harvesting food. Imagine if the death of their friend, or brother, or father, or husband, caused them to simply stop at the stone and mourn there forever.”

  “Then… their babies wouldn’t get the food they needed,” Mika whispered this realization mostly to herself.

  “Yes. Now, imagine if some of the stronger-willed, hard-minded ants decided to plunge forward, no matter what, and stay upon their predetermined path. What if they shoved the stone out of the way or climbed the mighty boulder and forged on ahead?”

  “Then… they would miss the sweet cake.”

  “Yes, Mika, they would. The weak ones would crumble and mourn themselves to their own demise, dragging their families down with them. The strong ones would certainly make it through and find some kind of food to bring home, they always had. But they would also miss the bountiful blessing—unbelievably revealed, only to be ignored.”

  Mika’s amazing lavender eyes were all but dancing.

  “Then, there are the ones who are truly blessed,” Jenevier said. “The ones who are made of both strength and weakness combined. They’re the ones who will stop, mourn, and show proper respect for the fallen, then alter their course with a grieving heart and an open mind. What will happen to those ones, Mika?”

  “They’ll find the enormous sweet cake,” she answered excitedly.

  “Yes, they will. You see, they were weak enough to grieve, strong enough to accept change, and blessed beyond imagination because of it. Simply because they understood that sometimes bad things happen. It’s the path we choose to take after the bad thing that will determine our future, mark our worth.” She gently patted the girl’s tiny hand. “Every single ant on the path that day could’ve been blessed with a year’s worth of bounty for their whole colony. But such was based upon their individual decision. Each ant had a choice. Each choice had its own destiny.”

  “Die there, work and trudge on forever, or be blessed beyond belief. One event, three different fates,” Mika surmised.

  “Exactly, child. You alone could plainly see their fate because you were blessed with seeing the whole picture. Now, in your mind, replace the ant
s with people you know, with man, with humanity.”

  Jenevier could actually see the moment that firm realization took hold in those big, beautiful, innocent lavender eyes.

  “And now you understand.” She sighed, slipping further under the fragrant water. “That’s how I’m looking at the horrible events of this day. I’m trying to see the whole picture, not focus solely on the tragedy of being torn from the ones I love at the moment my baby is to enter this world. And… I’m trying not to be so strong and stubborn that I kill them all, only to return home and continue down the path I was already walking.”

  “You don’t want to miss the sweet cake.” The words fell from Mika’s lips as she stared, focusing on nothing.

  “Yes, my child. I’m trying to take a deep breath and look at the whole thing so I don’t miss any of my intended blessings.” Jenevier smiled and twirled a lock of Mika’s raven hair around her finger. “I have already found one.”

  The girl looked back, finally focusing shocked eyes upon the woman. “You think… I’m your sweet cake?”

  “Yes, dear child, I know you are. But I have a feeling you’re not my only sweet cake. The sweetest one, yes. But not the only one.”

  Mika giggled at the thought and the image it brought to her mind—all covered in icing and sugar. Her cheeks flushed bright red. “I think you’re my sweet cake, too.”

  “I’m certain of it.” Jenevier playfully tapped the girl’s nose. “Will you let me braid your hair? Mine’s so curly, it only tangles and knots. Yours is so shiny and straight, it’s beautiful. I want only to brush and braid and play with it.”

  “I would trade with you in but a breath. I’ve never seen hair such as yours, Milady.”

  Jenevier laughed. “No one has.”

  Chapter 16

  Vittorio

  (vit-TOR-ee-oh)

  “Shaemon. Shaemon Green, come forth.”

  “Ugh, what is it now, Death Angel? Will you never leave me in peace? What will you require of me this time? What’ve I done to offend you on this most glorious day?”

  “Aye, ye speak thusly tae a Death Angel?” Vittorio had to hold in his chuckle when he recalled Jenevier’s story about this little Fairy man.

  He’d gone first to their secret place, Princess Falls, but found no trace of her scent. She hadn’t visited there in months.

  “I meant no offense. It’s just, every time I see you something bad happens. And it’s usually to me,” Shaemon huffed.

  “I’m looking for someone an’ I thought ye may be just the man tae help me.”

  “Help you? What will I get out of it?”

  Vittorio’s patience was wearing pretty thin. A strange feeling came over him that he’d never experienced before. It was a gnawing, growing, nauseating feeling in the pit of his stomach. He knew only his sweet Jenevier could ever cause him to feel thus. He had to find her. He had to hold her. She was the only reason he could even breathe. He shook off the bitter fear quickly taking root in him and glared at the irritating little man.

  “Ye’ll get tae live until tomorrow,” he growled.

  “S-sorry, Angel. Apologies.” Shaemon started wringing his trembling hands together. “Who is it you seek that I should know them?”

  “The colorful woman ye met in the hidden valley. I need tae find her. Have ye seen her or heard word of her presence among yer kind?”

  Shaemon jerked his shoulders back at the mere mention of her. “No, no sir. I’ve not laid eyes on that strangest of women since the day we first met.”

  “An’ yer certain of this?”

  “Of course I’m certain. She’s not a creature who’d go about unnoticed anywhere she happened to roam. If she’d been walking around here, the whole place would be buzzing with the news.”

  Vittorio conceded to the tiny man’s rationale. He left layer one with a heavy heart and weighted wings. He believed, if she had disappeared of her own accord, this was the one place she would’ve run to. Finding her absent was a damper upon his soul.

  Then she was taken. Dammit. When I find her again, I’ll sew that wee rabbit tae my side so we cannae be parted. I care nae whose manacle my lass now wears, she wulnae leave my sight ever again.

  With these thoughts still ringing in his mind, his angelic feet touched down in Eastern Spadroon.

  He searched the whole of the third layer. Not only did he find no trace of his beloved Jenevier, he could scarce even sniff out a single demon.

  “Aye, when that old blue devil of hers cleaned this place up, he left nae stone unturned.”

  Vittorio’s mind went back to the day Shabriri cut his wings from his back, tossing them aside like so much rubbish. He could still hear his tiny, blinded warrior screaming as she ripped the head off every demon she could find. Then tears burned the backs of his eyes when he remembered her pitiful pleading screams as Shabriri tortured and tried to rape her.

  “One thing’s for certain,” he said to himself as he left the third layer realm. “If any demon claimed her, Apollyon would know aboot it. How could he nae?”

  Vittorio knew the vast size of layer eight, but he also knew Jenevier loved those children she had saved while on their first mission to Earth. She had told him much about her time spent in exile and of the policeman who had helped her there. He wasted no time as he burst through the clouds and pushed open the doors reading Precinct 6.

  The humans couldn’t see the determined Guardian as he made his way into Chief of Police, Tony Delvado’s office.

  The kind man with the graying hair looked up when the door slammed. He saw nothing. Eventually, he went back to his paperwork. Vittorio watched him for a moment more before he cleared his throat, allowing the man to see him, showing himself sitting in the chair opposite the desk.

  Tony jumped to his feet, gun leveled at the Guardian in the next breath. His eyes went wide.

  “I dunnae believe we’ve been properly introduced, Chief Delvado.” He inclined his silver-crowned head regally. “My name’s Vittorio. Perhaps ye’ve heard of me?”

  Tony closed his eyes, counted to five, wished real hard upon a star, and then slowly opened them.

  “Well, hell. You’re still here.” The man managed to holster his gun with a shaky hand and collapsed back into his seat. “So, what’s she gone and gotten herself into this time?”

  Tony sighed, but the kilted Guardian only smiled knowingly.

  *****

  As Vittorio started to leave layer eight, empty-handed yet again, he tried to decide which way to fly, which way would prove more conducive to finding his little Angel.

  “Aye, Lass. Give me a sign, my wee darlin’,” he mumbled to himself. “Where could ye be?” He sighed softly. “I miss ye, Lass… fear I’ll go mad withoot ye.”

  A warming sensation filled his chest when he recalled some of their time together. The battles they’d fought. The laughs they’d shared. Desperation set in. He had to find some clue among those many beautiful, bloody memories. Concentrating, focusing, he was sure there must be something stored within his memory. Some clue he could use. Something she may’ve said. Somewhere she may’ve been. Somewhere they may’ve been.

  Memories flew through his mind like a fast forward dream, suddenly halting, lingering on her smiling face, drops of blood within her hair, upon her fair cheek. Tears burned his eyes, his chest tightened. This was a more recent memory, only months old, when she could yet don her wings. His mind flashed back to their co-summons. It was just after she had returned from her banishment, after her sentenced execution and her four years of lonely roaming. His heavenly smile was unbidden. This was one of his favorites, an exquisitely precious memory. The kind you kept to yourself and treasured always…

  She was standing there with her claws fully extended, wings outstretched, chest heaving, covered in blood, surrounded by armor clad, viciously trained soldiers. They had been summonsed right here to this very layer, the eighth layer realm called Earth. But they were in a much different place than the one he now stood. The c
rime-infested streets of Detroit couldn’t hold a candle to the secret, unspoken underbelly of a small area east of here, across the blue expanse, called Rome.

  The citizens were lovely, the city was beautiful, and all the sparkling little strings were being pulled by the unlikeliest of people, the religious ones. Corruption of every kind could be found from the smallest cathedrals to the largest. Their wicked deeds trickled down to the depths of an ancient brotherhood, a secret organization. A society made up of zealots, spreading fear through ignorance.

  “Who wears armor and carries a broad sword anymore?” she pondered aloud.

  “Aye, Lass, have yer eyes nae beheld yer devoted brother?” Vittorio held out his arms, revealing his flawless body for her inspection. “I’m clad thusly, my wee darling.”

  She giggled and squeezed his arm as she ran her fingers over the defined muscles. “Not much in the way of armor, Brother, a piece here and there. Mostly I see only your delicious skin. But a more handsome creature could not exist, sweet warrior. You make me want to purr.” She rolled her Rs over her tongue, turning ruby eyes back to their adversaries. “Yet I meant upon this layer. You and I have danced a bloody path through countless places here on Earth. Never have I seen men arrayed in garb such as this.”

  “I have, but it was hundreds of years ago.” He yanked one of her curls.

  “Mmm… I would’ve liked to have seen such a thing for myself,” she mused. “Yes, I believe I would have enjoyed that delicious little vision way too much.”

  “Aye, Lass, then ye must go tae Dimthe Leard. Layer six is much the same as this one once was.”

  “Hmm, sounds interesting. Perhaps I will.” She bumped him with her shoulder. “Do you think you can take care of this on your own, Brother? I need to depart presently. I wish to check out all those knights in shining armor.”

  The obvious confusion painted across his face made those infectious giggles of hers spill out.