by Cara Coe
She didn’t see Kernan appear and drop next to her, the horror stripping his voice from his throat. It wasn’t until he leaned forward and cradled his brother that Amelie rose to her feet, unsteady and disoriented. The world dulled to a gray around her. Millie was not far from Kernan and enveloped her friend before she could collapse.
Amelie’s knees shook. “He’s gone,” she whispered into Millie’s golden locks. Her voice made it real and a new wave of pain threatened to end her. Amelie’s head pounded. “Millie, I lost him.”
Chapter 44
Trinity
They came to her as she bid, the dried blood of humans crusted in their hair. Two of the four. Reddick and Edon. Fallen in battle, they explained of their missing brothers. How loyal they were to her, she thought. Both of the dead mages harnessed the power of moving objects with only their mind. They could have turned the enemies' swords unto themselves. Instead, they'd relied on their limbs and steel to defend them. Because she'd ordered them to infiltrate the humans without their magic. They were dead because they obeyed until they collapsed in blood.
She lives, the two survivors informed her. Her lover died.
Trinity shook her head. It was not enough. Her heart pounded. She knew. Oh, she knew. She felt it ripple around her ever since that half mage tore out of the realm and she was forced to once again take an interest in the humans.
Seek her out. Destroy her.
But what she found instead rattled her to the core. Because in the human realm, lurking there, was another half mage. Black hair like coal. Blue eyes like the deep mountain lakes. A striking jawline to match his mother's.
It was undeniable. Elmeda lived. Or had lived. Swarms of shrouded mages scoured the human realm but it was quickly learned that she'd passed many years ago. But not without bearing at least one mage son.
Resistance.
The power bit at Trinity in frustrating jabs. Reddick and Edon's account was not sufficient. No. She had to go into the human realm. Dead or not, she needed to go. She summoned her strongest gatekeeper. Arcos. His whispers held great speed. Her travels were not exhausting or unbearably long.
It was but a day and a half before she stood at the entrance of the tomb. How much time had passed since the deathly blow this mixed mage took? A day and a half of travel. Three days for burial. That equaled four and a half days since his death.
She would know very soon.
The trip back to her realm was much slower, the coal-haired, blue-eyed body was heavy to carry even with the whispers. They had to stop in a snatch of forest where the mountains were still a mere skyline. They had to stop and wait.
Trinity lit a fire and watched him. Half a day gone. Dead for five days. He didn't look five days gone. Her skin prickled anxiously.
A Draeden funeral, Edon had told her. They circled him and sang. Sang for two straight days, such was the grief. Candor would have burned him. Trinity was glad they didn't. Fire wouldn't touch his skin. She was sure of it.
The moon rose, filling the sky with its milky light. She sat still by the fire. Was that a twitch in his arm?
Arcos pulled back, frightened. He saw it too. Soon the leg twitched too. It was over an hour of these sporadic twitches but once they picked up speed, they cascaded upon themselves, wracking his body violently. Vomit dribbled from the corner of his mouth. A small cough.
Trinity leaned forward as the movements calmed. His eyes fluttered open. He coughed louder. Drew out the stomach contents blocking his throat. His body commanded breath.
Resistant to magic.
And immortal.
His eyes clouded with confusion. He moved slowly, sickly. They focused on the two figures huddled by the fire. One set of eyes looked terrified. The other set watched him curiously.
"Who are you?" The voice scratched deeply from his throat.
Trinity answered. "We are mages. Here to help you. You had a terrible wound. You will recover."
"How was I hurt?"
Trinity smiled. It was like her own awakening. In a cabin on the floor, covered in blood. Her shift was torn, exposing her womanhood to the cool, winter air. A man not far from her, large belly and a gashed neck with flies buzzing around the wound. She'd had no recollection of the events that caused the scene in the cabin. She'd had no recollection of anything before that moment.
He had the same searching in his eyes. He tried. He knew there was something before this moment. But his mind couldn't conjure up what it could be. It never would. She didn’t tell him that. Instead, she held out your hand.
"I can see you're afraid. Fear not. I will take care of you."
It was the only comfort he had. He took it. He took her hand. And tried not to fear.
"Where are we going?" his voice was stronger now. Recovering. He would always recover quickly from now on. Death could no longer touch him.
"To a land hidden by mountains and snow. All who lay eyes on it see cold and death and ice. Once inside, you will find it's bursting with life and bloom and sun." Trinity smiled. "You are going to the White Forest. You are going home."
Epilogue
Amelie
She stood at the mouth of the tomb in silent shock.
The slab was empty. He’d been here yesterday. Still, and quiet, with his beautiful face in a peaceful state. No worry lines creasing his eyes or mouth. He looked like he had been sleeping. She’d leaned in over him, curious.
Death still had not touched him.
And now he was gone.
She came to see him daily. To sit at his feet and cry in mourning. It was a hollow act. A selfish one that served no purpose but to release some of the blackness in her heart. Nothing ever changed when she finally picked herself up off the floor of the mausoleum. He was still gone and her chest was still tight and Candor still stood in limbo waiting for instructions from their queen.
And the dark parts of her heart that she cried into her robes grew back almost instantaneously with each step she took away from his side towards the castle.
His father was due to arrive today. King Armiss had dispatched to cross the Candor border as soon as he learned of his son’s death.
But he would arrive to an empty space.
Sir Duncan and Amelie stood in the entrance, their eyes roving over the small space.
“I knew the Grantham King’s letter was riddled with lies!” Sir Duncan roared. It was out of character for him. Not used to such an outburst, it snapped Amelie out of her stunned state and she gingerly stepped into the room. “He did not withdraw all his troops. He left some behind to snatch the body. He is a sick man, intent on tormenting us.”
Amelie shook her head. “No,” she said. Her heart pumped wildly and her head dizzied. Bits of words and information, puzzle pieces and conversations began clicking in Amelie’s mind. A forceful knowing settled over her body. “No,” she repeated more loudly. She whirled around to face Sir Duncan. “Grantham doesn’t have him. Sir Duncan, Seth has a second power.”
She watched as Sir Duncan’s face changed, turning her statement over in his mind. She strode to him and gripped his arm. Her eyes shone.
“He is immortal.”
“Amelie…do you think?”
“Immortality is his second power. Just like with me, Henna must have drawn it out when she enhanced his resistance.”
Sir Duncan breathed in deeply, his eyes turning grave. “And he wouldn’t know its emergence until he faced mortality. So why did he not return to the palace?”
Amelie’s eyes watered. Her knowing extended beyond Sir Duncan’s. For once, she was the one with the knowledge. Her time in the White Forest awakened the queen’s interest in the human realm. She had managed to leave, but at what cost?
Do not mistake her absence in the human realm as her inability to cross into it, Simon had said.
Amelie had led her here. She knew it as surely as she knew her own name. She had enticed the queen to gaze into the human world and Queen Trinity had found something even more interesting. More
threatening. Worth the trip into Candor. Worth the opening of this mausoleum.
“The White Queen took him,” Amelie spoke, voicing her fears and making them real.
Sir Duncan closed his eyes and used his hand against the wall to steady himself.
“She took him,” Amelie said again firmly. “And I’m going to get him back.”
Acknowledgements
To my husband. Who nodded and smiled when I said I wanted to be an astronaut. Who nodded and smiled when I said I wanted to start a food truck business. Who nodded and smiled when I said I wanted to host a travel show for a cable network. And who nodded the hardest and smiled the widest when I said I wanted to author a book. You knew I had it in me. Thank you for supporting me and helping me discover what you already knew. And for patiently indulging my sudden thoughts on book two every time one entered my head. I promise I was listening to whatever you were saying every time that happened while you were in mid-sentence.
And to the reader. Always to you. Thank you.
About the Author
Cara Coe is a Houston, Texan native, a wife, a mother of three, a librarian, a traveler (when she can), a recipe follower, a home provider to an English sheepdog abandoned at her library, a lover of books, an okay driver, and above all- the part of her that permeates everything else in her life- a dreamer.
