season avatars 01 - seasons beginnings

by sandra ulbrich almazan

  for a day.

  “Permit me to give you another gift, that of the modern language.

  No one will understand you otherwise, not even your Bella.”

  She must have sensed his agreement. Before he could speak, new

  words poured into him.

  “You will be able to read as well,” Spring said. “It is a common skill

  these days. In fact, it would be strange for someone as intelligent as you

  to be unable to read. I could give you all the history too, but I don’t wish

  to overwhelm you. You may want to study at the University of Wistica

  so you can absorb a little of it at a time.”

  “University” was a new word for Kron; it was a place where young

  adults could study other disciplines besides magic. Pagli would have

  appreciated knowing something similar to the Magic Institute still ex-

  isted.

  “Some scholars at the University study the past,” Winter said. “They

  would be very interested in the remnants of your water clock. I recom-

  mend you take it to them.”

  “But when will I get to see Bella?” he asked.

  2 4 8 · S a n d r a U l b r i c h A l m a z a n

  With a smile, Spring slid a golden bracelet off of Her wrist and held

  it in front of him. A young woman appeared in the middle of it, as if the

  bracelet was a portal. The girl’s skin was darker than Bella’s had been,

  and her hair was bound up and covered so he couldn’t see it. But her

  eyes bore the same green-and-gold flecks he’d always admired in Bella.

  This new version of Bella sat in front of a wooden device, pressing

  white-and-black objects inlaid on the front of it. Her lips moved in time

  with her fingers.

  “It’s a new way of making music,” Spring said. “I don’t think music

  will be enough to shatter Salth’s crystal, but she still enjoys it.”

  So different from my Bella, but so alike in many ways. Does she still

  remember me? What did she experience without me at her side? How

  did she feel when I didn’t portal after her?

  Spring withdrew Her bracelet long before Kron tired of staring at

  Bella. “The sooner you start your new life, Kron, the sooner you’ll see

  her in the flesh. Gaila, Janno, Caye, and other Avatars too. Farewell,

  Kron. May the next time We see you be under better circumstances.”

  “Farewell,” the others echoed. Then They faded away.

  Kron raised himself to his feet. He knew the Four had only told him

  a little about the new world, but he felt overwhelmed. He took his time

  reassembling the water clock from the shards. At least this familiar task

  hadn’t changed. Only half of the water clock was here, including part

  of the dividing wall he’d built. Even so, it was too big for him to carry.

  Kron shrunk the water clock down so he could tuck it under his arm.

  He passed through the dusty corridors of the temple toward the front

  entrance. This area had been renovated, with sculptures and paintings

  in colors and poses he hadn’t seen before. He spent several heartbeats

  studying the artists’ techniques. Yes, the world had changed greatly

  while he’d been trapped. He hoped he still had a place in it.

  With a deep breath, Kron finally walked out onto the front porch of

  the temple. Beneath him, the whole street had changed. Even in the

  evening light, he could see that the road was covered with a strange

  substance. The buildings surrounding him were stone, not mud-brick,

  Sea so n s’ Be gin n in gs · 2 4 9

  and they towered over the old temple. At the corners and entrances to

  each building, poles bearing lights lit up the street. He couldn’t tell what

  powered the lights. Few people were about, but they wore clothing sim-

  ilar to the Four’s. Kron glanced down at himself and transformed his

  clothes so they resembled what Winter had worn. The Four might not

  have told him everything about this new world, but They’d given him

  what he needed to make his way here.

  Kron stared out over Vistichia—no, Wisticia. Off in the distance,

  the Chikasi River still wound its way to the sea. So much had changed

  in eight hundred years that he was once again a stranger in this city. But

  this time he knew there were old friends out there, ready to be reunited

  with him.

  The University would be the first place he needed to go on his jour-

  ney back to Bella. He set out to find it.

  Afterword

  Thank you for reading my book; I hope you enjoyed it. Please con-

  sider leaving a review on Amazon or Goodreads to help other readers discover this book. It also helps me promote my work so I can eventually fulfill my dream of writing science fiction and fantasy full-time.

  This novel is an expansion of my short story, “Demon’s Diamond,”

  which I wrote to develop the background of the Season Avatars’ world.

  Thanks to my friend Aviva Rothschild for inspiring me to write it.

  I would like to thank my beta readers for their input in helping me

  improve this story. They are Bert Hammerstad, Sheila Babcock, Susan

  Curnow, Elizabeth Hull, and Heidi Garrett. Maria Zannini of Book

  Cover Diva designed the cover, and the template for the interior book design (for both the paper and eBook versions) came from Book Design

  Templates. As always, special thanks go to my husband, Eugene, and my son, Alex, for their love and patience as I spent many hours at the

  keyboard writing, editing, and formatting this book.

  If you’d like to know when the next book in this series will be avail-

  able, you can watch my website, blog, or Facebook page for announcements. Or you can also subscribe to my newsletter (link is on

  my blog). I hate spam as much as anyone else, so I’ll only send it out

  for announcements of new work and sales. Eventually, I plan to offer

  bonus stories to subscribers as well.

  Thanks again for reading Seasons’ Beginnings. I look forward to

  sharing Scattered Seasons, Book Two of the Season Avatars, with you

  soon. Please read on for a sneak peek.

  Best,

  Sandra

  The Season Avatars of

  Seasons’ Beginnings

  Group 1

  Galia—Spring

  Janno—Summer

  Bella—Fall

  Caye—Winter

  Group 2

  Magstrom--Spring

  Carver--Summer

  Sylva—Fall

  Domina--Winter

  Group 3

  Tylan—Spring

  Flilya—Summer

  Hala—Fall

  Ocul—Winter

  Scattered Seasons

  (Book Two of the Season Avatars)

  Lady Gwendolyn lo Havil is an Ava Spring, born to heal others

  and lead the Avatars of her generation. When the current Ava

  Spring dies in a riding accident, Gwen must find the other three

  Avatars she will link with. Only a full quartet of Avatars can deal

  with the destruction of Chaos Season, times when the seasons all

  appear at once. But two Avatars are missing, and with Gwen’s own

  magic is crippled by an ancient, cursed pottery shard, Gwen will

  have to use all of her skills to find the Avatars. Can she trust the

  stranger who claims to know the shard’s origin, or is he her ancient

  foe returned?

  Coming 2015—read on fo
r an excerpt!

  Lady Gwendolyn lo Havil fixed a smile in place as her head

  throbbed. She wished she could blame it on her future mother-in-law,

  but as dreadful as her taste was—witness the sickly sheep pattern on

  her wallpaper—something else had to be at fault. Gwen hadn’t felt this

  much physical pain since she was twelve springs old and her healing

  magic had blossomed. What could be causing this? Something in her

  in-laws’ mansion? Or did it have to do with her own Avatar magic?

  “Gwendolyn, dear? Are you paying attention?” The false sweetness

  in Lady Shellinda’s tone wouldn’t have flavored her weak tea. “I was

  asking if you and William wanted my second-best plates for the wed-

  ding luncheon.”

  If she meant the ones imported from Fip, with the country’s war ea-

  gle in the center of every dish, then no. Gwen could never forgive Fip

  for the war that had brought Challen into its empire. It had taken place

  Sea so n s’ Be gin n in gs · 2 5 3

  several hundred years ago, but she still remembered that life, and all the

  injured people she’d treated, more clearly than she liked. Could her cur-

  rent headache have something to do with her memories of the past?

  Lately they’d been coming more frequently, stretching back closer to

  her very first life as an Avatar for the Goddess of Spring. Perhaps this

  was a sign from the dear Goddess Herself.

  “Is it time?” Gwen murmured. “Time to find the others?”

  “Whatever are you talking about, Gwendolyn? Are you ill? I

  thought you were supposed to be healthier than a horse.”

  Gwen drained the last of her hot chocolate, wishing the cup wasn’t

  so dainty, and rose. “I think I need some fresh air, Lady Shellinda.”

  William’s mother complained flowers made her sneeze. Gwen had

  postponed trying to heal her affliction and was now secretly glad she’d

  done so. Maybe she could steal a few moments to be alone, cure her

  headache, and figure out what had caused it.

  “Well, if you insist. But I wouldn’t advise staying out there too long.

  There’s simply too much to be done before the wedding next moon.”

  And if I don’t hurry back, she’ll choose something horrid for the

  lunch menu.

  Gwen decorously lifted her skirt hem off the floor as she left the

  parlor and slipped out into the garden. Bright sunshine made her squint;

  it beat on her head as if to increase her headache still further. The roses

  weren’t in bloom yet, but row after row of tulips marched like a squad-

  ron ahead of her, showing her the path she was meant to travel. Gwen’s

  late mother had established a maze in their garden and changed the path

  through it every year. Gwen wished she was there now, someplace

  where she could hide instead of being exposed to watchers from the

  house. She forced herself to glide casually through the flowers. But alt-

  hough she took deep breaths, they didn’t calm her. Something stirred at

  the edge of her magical senses. Something that didn’t belong in Chal-

  len.

  What is it? Is it close by, or do the reigning Season Avatars feel it

  too?

  2 5 4 · S a n d r a U l b r i c h A l m a z a n

  Gwen might be a Season Avatar for the Goddess of Spring, First of

  the Four Gods and Goddesses of Challen, but by herself, her magic was

  limited to healing. Linking with the other three Avatars—one each for

  Summer, Fall, and Winter—would allow her to share thoughts with the

  others, pool their magic, and spread it throughout the country. But there

  was already a quartet of Avatars taking care of Challen. They’d been in

  place for decades. Surely the Four meant for Gwen and the other Ava-

  tars of her birth year to replace the current Avatars soon. After all, as

  her father and aunt were fond of pointing out, she was already eighteen,

  old enough to be married and start raising a family. They didn’t under-

  stand she felt more ready to be an Avatar than a wife. She remembered

  magic from her previous lives as an Avatar. As for what she remem-

  bered about her personal lives...she’d been married to the Summer

  Avatar more often than not. William was a sometimes childhood friend,

  sometimes childhood tormentor, but he was no Avatar. Plus he wanted

  her to start having children, and she knew she wasn’t ready for child-

  birth, not after the way her mother died.

  Gwen rubbed her head. This wasn’t the time to be fretting over the

  wedding or children she hadn’t conceived. She had to learn what was

  giving her a magical headache. Was it a Chaos Season, when all of the

  seasons appeared at once, and the Avatars had to return everything to

  normal? It had never given her a headache before. Besides, the flowers

  around her were still normal. But the air felt cooler now, bringing up

  goose bumps on her arms.

  Gwen rubbed her skin, using her magic to feel warmer. As she did

  so, she surveyed the garden. A brown form lying in the path several

  yards away caught her eye. As she approached it, it resolved into a hu-

  man figure. One of the gardeners, judging by his clothes and the trowel

  by his side. He wasn’t moving, and the flowers around him were brown

  and wilted.

  A mini Chaos Season. Maybe this is why my head hurts. What hap-

  pened to the gardener? I’d better check.

  Sea so n s’ Be gin n in gs · 2 5 5

  Gwen stripped off her gloves, then knelt by the prone man. He was

  still breathing, but a gash on his forehead streamed blood into the soil.

  Perhaps he’d been hit by a hailstone. If so, it must have already melted.

  She pressed her hand against the cut, sealing it. Once that was done, she

  focused her magic inward, checking for more serious damage. The in-

  jury didn’t seem serious compared to others she’d healed during her

  several lifetimes as Spring Avatar, but she would still recommend to

  the butler—Lady Shellinda would consider herself too far above her

  servant to be concerned about him—that the gardener be given a day or

  two to rest. Since this was a head injury, someone should watch him for

  any unusual symptoms so she could heal him again if necessary.

  Not that it will be.

  Gwen used a withered leaf to wipe some of the blood off of her

  hands before she accidentally stained her silk gown. As she stared at the

  soil, she noticed a pottery shard next to one of the frostbitten tulips.

  What would something like that be doing in the middle of a carefully

  managed flower bed? She pressed her lips together when she noticed a

  rust-colored edge on the shard. No hailstone had assaulted the gardener.

  But where had the shard come from? Maybe this Chaos Season had had

  strong winds, strong enough to fling small objects about. That was quite

  common. The shard, however, wasn’t. It was lighter in color than the

  dirt, and it had marks on it that Gwen had never seen before.

  Gwen picked up the shard to look at it more closely. The air was

  still, eerily still. She was careful not to touch the edges, but it turned in

  her hand as if it was alive. She let it go, but it clung to her.

  By All Four… “Get away fro
m me!” She shook her hand, but the

  shard bit into her palm. Gwen reached for it, then thought better of

  touching it with her bare skin. She covered her free hand with part of

  her skirt, then tried wrenching the shard free. The gardener stirred be-

  side her, and Gwen wondered if she would need him to help her pull the

  piece of pottery away. Then it snapped. She could tell that a corner was

  missing—a corner shaped like the bulge in her skin. How had it slipped

  in? More to the point, would she be able to get it out? Normally that

  2 5 6 · S a n d r a U l b r i c h A l m a z a n

  shouldn’t be a problem, but this Chaos Season, though small, was any-

  thing but normal.

  She drew a line over the bump, willing her skin to split. But for once,

  her healing magic refused to obey her. Pressure built in her head. If she

  wasn’t already squatting, she might have fallen over. Was the pottery

  shard poisoned? She hadn’t detected anything unusual when she’d

  healed the gardener. Still, something was interfering with her magic.

  Have I ever come across anything like this before? Gwen searched

  her memories from previous lives. No, nothing had ever gotten stuck

  under her skin—or anyone else’s—and refused to come out. However,

  the farther back she went, the more familiar the pottery shard seemed.

  She’d always considered her oldest memories the least trustworthy and

  least complete, so even this information didn’t help her.

  Goddess of Spring, what do I do now?

  A trail of cold reached past her wrist and up her arm.

  “Freeze it!” Never had swearing felt more appropriate. Gwen

  grasped her affected arm with her other hand and pressed down, trying

  to block the cold. For a moment, it seemed to work, but then the cold

  shot past her elbow, then to her shoulder.

  “What happened?” Finally, the gardener opened his eyes. “My flow-

  ers! My precious tulips!” He blinked as he gaped at her. “Lady lo Havil?

  What are you doing here?”

  Cold squeezed her throat closed. She gestured toward the house,

  even though no one there would be able to help her either.

  Then the cold numbed her head, halting her pain—and everything

  else.

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