L.O.S.T. Trilogy Box Set

by R. S. Collins

  Later, someone said something about shims getting out again and eating a hag’s cat.

  I groaned.

  Sometime after that, I opened my eyes to take in a quiet, sunlit healer’s hut.

  “You’re in L.O.S.T.,” Bren said from beside me. “Safe and sound. Your wrist is all healed, and you still have your arm.”

  Feeling like I had rods trying to hold my neck in place, I turned toward him. Just the sight of his face made me want to cry. Those warm eyes, his soft brown hair. The way he was looking at me, I could almost believe I hadn’t seen him kiss Sherise, but I supposed, for now, that would have to wait. Other things were more important. Other things were always more important.

  “The witches,” I began, but Bren stopped me with a shake of his head.

  “Most here, around two hundred of them.” He gave me a smile that made my insides warm. “Just what we needed. A few more witches needing new homes, right?”

  I tried to laugh, but didn’t quite make it. Bren’s expression grew serious and worried again. “Some of the witches walked into death. You did great, as always, but you lost a lot of blood, and I kinda had to bust up all your wardings and protections to grab your arms and legs, so you’ve been out for about thirty-six hours. You need to take this slowly.”

  I wasn’t sure I had heard him right. “You touched my body while I was patrolling in spirit form?”

  He nodded, his brown eyes bright in the sunshine streaming through the hut windows.

  Despite a growing urge to cry or turn him into a fern for kissing another girl when I loved him so much, I was deeply impressed. Even my father couldn’t have survived the protections I placed on my body when I left it in stasis. I didn’t think any witch could.

  But Bren wasn’t just any witch. He was King of the Witches. He was a half-blood-half human and half oldeFolke. The most powerful magical blood ever known flowed through his veins. And until I saw him with his lips pressed against those of his brother’s girlfriend, he had been my king. We had promised ourselves to each other. He had given me a ring!

  My lower lip trembled despite my best effort to keep it still. Tears followed immediately. All I could do was look at him and ask, “Why? Please, tell me when you stopped—when you started—why did you kiss someone else?”

  He didn’t get angry. He just kept his eyes fixed on mine and said, “I never kissed Sherise. It must have been an illusion, or the Erlking—something. I didn’t do it. I would never hurt you like that.”

  I spoke before my feelings caught up with my words. “You know the Erlking hasn’t been back to L.O.S.T. since he escaped with Todd. There’s no way in or out unless you or I allow it.”

  “It must be hard to trust me after what you saw, but I’ll give you time to believe me.” He sighed, and at that moment I saw the circles under his eyes and the tired, pale cast to his skin. “I think I let him in somehow with that new Circle kid I brought back from 1965 New York, or maybe he found a way in before that. With all the crap happening—my dad and your mom, and those freaky birds getting out all the time, and witches trying to eat each other—I just haven’t had a chance to look into it.”

  My eyes widened. Circle kid? I opened my mouth to speak, but Bren barreled on.

  “Besides, Rol won’t let the kid—Aaron’s his name—get five inches from him. I’ve never seen anything like how the big guy’s acting. I haven’t even been able to question Aaron about how he got on that high-rise, or about the 1965 Sanctuary. Between caring for you, and Rol keeping the kid away from everyone, it’s been impossible to get near him.”

  “Wait!” I finally managed to stop him as I pushed myself to a sitting position, my head spinning a little with the movement. “Back up. Did you say—did you say you found another stone-bearer, and he’s male?”

  Bren nodded. “And the hags won’t touch him. So, Rol’s keeping Aaron. I never figured Rol for the loving-dad routine, but he’s intense about this kid.”

  I couldn’t help it. I started to laugh. “What?” Bren shifted in his chair and looked uncomfortable.

  “It’s in Rol’s blood to look after orphaned or lost children, especially kids with powerful magic or important destinies. It’s the nature of his race, one of their sworn duties.” I laughed again at Bren’s totally confused expression. “You don’t know what Rol is, do you?”

  Another shift in the chair. A more uncomfortable look. “He’s a witch. Like we are.”

  “Rol isn’t a modern witch. He’s oldeFolke. You’ve never talked about that?”

  “We’re guys.” He shrugged when I shook my head. “We punch each other and swordfight. We don’t have deep bonding conversations.”

  I finally managed a grin, and my tears started to dry up. “Maybe you should. Then you might have asked him what he is. He’s a male—”

  “Hey, wait a minute.” Bren held up his hand and looked a little sick. “I think I know where you’re going with this, and no way. No way!”

  “The males are different from their female counterparts, but also similar in many ways.” I kept trying not to laugh again, but Bren’s look of disgusted amazement nearly did me in. “Did you think female hags bred with the air to make more hags?”

  “Gross. Too much information.” Bren grabbed the sides of his head like he was trying to squeeze out what I just said. “No, no, no, no. Don’t need that image. And you’re just messing with me. I am so not believing this.”

  I sat up, feeling the healing power of laughter lending me strength. “It’s true, Bren. Rol is a male hag.”

  Bren opened his mouth to say something, but he never got the chance. Clattering and shouting erupted outside the healer’s hut, and the aforementioned male hag’s voice rose louder than anyone else’s.

  “Back off, elfling. We’ve come to see the queen, and you’ll not lay so much as a finger on this boy!”

  ***

  Chapter Seven

  I dragged my hand over my face and barely resisted the urge to bang my head on the bedpost. Between just learning something I did not want to know, and the fact I couldn’t catch a break, I was on serious overload. Jazz and I had zero time together, and I needed some time with her. We had to talk more, get things settled.

  The door flung open and crashed against the wall. Pots, jars, boxes, and flasks filled with herbs, potions, and other healing ingredients rattled on the shelves. The healer and her hag-spirit both hissed as they followed Rol, Aaron, and Acaw into the healing hut. Rol was so big that just by himself he made the room seem crowded. The rest of the crew made it feel like it was going to burst at the seams.

  They were shouting all at once.

  Acaw drew himself up to his full three-foot height. “Your Majesties, I must question the boy.”

  “I will not have this elfling—” Rol started. “Er, Your Highnesses, he will not lay a finger on this child.”

  Aaron looked absolutely miserable.

  The hag hissed again, this time something in oldeFolke that definitely shouldn’t be repeated. Her hag-spirit hissed something just as bad.

  “Quiet before I shut you all up with a ceasing spell,” I shouted over the noise as I pushed myself to my feet and grasped the hilt of my sword.

  Silver light blazed where my fingers touched the grip.

  The room immediately grew quiet.

  Acaw bowed and his crow-brother ruffled his feathers and cawed. “My apologies.”

  Rol inclined his head to Jazz, and then to me. “Mine as well.”

  The healer mumbled beneath her breath and I thought I was going to be sick when I caught the look the wrinkled old hag gave Rol.

  No way.

  I resisted covering my eyes with my hand. “Healer, I can handle this. I’ll make sure they don’t hang around too long and bother Jazz.”

  The really ugly looking crone, who could not possibly be someone Rol could ever be interested in, gave me a glare then slipped out the door with her hag-spirit.

  I think Jazz sniggered behind me.

&n
bsp; I took a deep breath and looked from Acaw to Rol, and then to Aaron.

  “A sapphire,” Jazz said from behind me. “Your birthday is in September.”

  The boy nodded.

  I turned to Jazz and her jaw dropped as she pointed to my chest. “Where did you get that?”

  The stone warmed my palm when I reached up and clasped it. “It’s a sardonyx. My birthday’s August first. The kid gave it to me.”

  “Incredible.” She shook her head in obvious amazement. “You’re one of the Circle witches?”

  I straightened my shoulders. “I am not.”

  “Your Majesties.”

  “Your Highnesses.”

  Jazz and I both looked at Rol and Acaw, who had spoken at the same time and were now glaring at one another. Still looking miserable, Aaron stood in front of Rol, and the big guy had his mammoth palm resting on the kid’s shoulder.

  I ignored the other two and focused on the boy who looked so much like my brother Todd that my gut ached. From the blond hair to the blue eyes. But he was missing Todd’s smartass attitude and the spark my brother always had in his own eyes.

  When I first found out my mother was Nire, she’d said she had many sons, seeding them until she found the one who would be the Shadowalker. So all those times she took off for a few months—her “retreats to the mountains,” Dad had called them—she could have been spending time having sons, or visiting them, hoping that eventually one would be the Shadowalker. She couldn’t have known for sure it was me until Jazz took me onto the Path, until my powers really emerged.

  I swallowed and shook off the thought. I didn’t have time to go there right now.

  “Aaron.” I gestured to a chair at the foot of the bed, opposite the one I’d been sitting in. “Have a seat.”

  I swore I saw Rol’s grip tighten on the kid, but he released Aaron, who shuffled over to the chair and plopped himself onto it. When his eyes met mine, he looked almost relieved, like more than the weight of Rol’s hand had been lifted from his shoulders.

  From the comer of my eye I saw that both Acaw and Rol looked like they were bursting to say something, but I raised my hand to them at the same time I held the boy’s gaze. He was wearing a loose white shirt like the ones hippies wore in the sixties, and blue jeans with holes at the knees. Both shirt and jeans had paint smears on them. His fingers looked stained as if he’d been playing with finger paints. The shirt gaped at his throat and his blue stone had a whitish glint to it.

  I sat back down in my chair so that the kid and I were almost eye-to-eye. “What were you doing on that high-rise in 1965 New York City?”

  The kid’s throat worked as he swallowed and his gaze darted to Rol and then back. “Those boys were after me.”

  Covers rustled as Jazz pushed herself up higher in her bed. She was in a black healer’s robe, sitting beneath black sheets. I swear, all hags loved black. Black robes, black cowls, black everything.

  “Why were they chasing you?” Jazz asked.

  “I found a baseball bat and I took it.” This time Aaron avoided everyone’s gazes by looking down. “I was trying to make it fly like a live oak branch so I could get back to my village. I guess the bat belonged to the biggest guy because he started yelling at me and chasing me. I dropped the bat and ran inside that really tall building.”

  “What were you doing so far from home?” I leaned forward and braced my hands on my thighs. “New York City’s a long way from that Sanctuary.”

  Aaron frowned and looked genuinely puzzled as he raised his head. “I don’t know. I was outside painting a picture of the town with my oil paints while my dad was throwing a pot on the potter’s wheel, and my stepmom was brewing a potion. I got up to go to the bathroom in the house and I thought the walls turned transparent. It freaked me out.” His expression grew intense. “And then I don’t remember anything. Not until I found myself by that big building. I didn’t even know what city I was in.”

  He gestured to my neck and added, “My dad gave me that stone. Said I’d know who it belonged to when I met him. It was meant for you, I know it.”

  Jazz and I looked at one another and then back to Aaron again. “Where did your dad get the sardonyx?” Jazz asked.

  The kid shrugged. “I dunno. He gave it to me a long time ago, right after he had me wear this one. I’ve always made sure it was in my pocket until it found its way to the right person.”

  Jazz took a deep inhale beside me, and I was suddenly very aware of the fact that she was probably pretty weak and tired. I looked to Rol and Acaw. “You guys better make this quick ’cause Jazz needs her rest.”

  Acaw’s crow-brother squawked, bringing my attention to the elf. “I simply believed we needed to question the boy, as you did. I am satisfied. Almost.”

  I raised my brow at that, but Rol spoke before I had time to press Acaw for more. “The boy is still grieving for his parents.” His voice was gruffer than normal. “I did not think it appropriate,” he glared at Acaw, “to harass the child.”

  The boy paled and I frowned as I said, “How do you know his parents aren’t okay?”

  Rol clasped his hands behind his back in a military stance and his biceps flexed. “They do not seem to be amongst those rescued from the 1965 Sanctuary.”

  Aaron looked as if he was holding back tears and I figured I’d grilled him enough for one day. I looked at Rol and couldn’t help but notice his unwrinkled ebony skin, all those muscles that made him look bigger than a pro bodybuilder. A male hag? No way.

  I cleared my throat. “Uh, I think the hags said they were making some healing stew. Maybe you should take Aaron and get him something to eat.”

  “As you wish, Your Majesty.” Rol gave a slight incline of his head and gestured for the boy to join him. Aaron looked reluctant, but got up and headed out of the hut with the big guy.

  That left Acaw and his crow-brother in the room with Jazz and me. “I don’t suppose you’ve made something, er, different than what the hags are cooking?” I asked Acaw, and my stomach growled as I thought about fresh green beans, cornbread drizzled with honey, roasted chicken, peach pie …

  The elf sniffed and looked even more inconvenienced than normal, which was saying a lot. “I am certain you will find the hag stew quite nutritious.”

  My stomach stopped rumbling. Acaw and his crow-brother vanished.

  “I hate it when he does that,” I grumbled. Especially since I couldn’t. But I had made that picnic basket and stuff disappear.

  I turned to look at Jazz, to tell her, to seize the opportunity to talk with her again, now that we were alone. But she’d slid back down in bed. Her eyelids were drooping and she was obviously fighting to stay awake. I stood, leaned over, and brushed my lips over her forehead. She smelled so good, always of cinnamon and peaches.

  When I rose back up, Jazz was asleep, but smiling. Maybe that meant she wasn’t mad at me for the kiss that I really didn’t give Sherise.

  I left the hut, quietly closing it behind me to keep from waking Jazz, and entered the chaos that was L.O.S.T.

  By the time I was ready to hit the sack, I was so beat that my head was pounding and my body ached. Dame Corey had insisted on keeping my oldeMagic lessons, even though I didn’t want to be there. I told her about the picnic basket and stuff and she almost seemed pleased. The fact that I didn’t know where everything had gone did not please her.

  After my lessons it was back to the turmoil of L.O.S.T. Those stupid shims kept getting out even though Sherise had spelled the lock on their compound. One of Todd’s slithers stomped on a shim and then all the shims attacked the slither. Talk about a mess and one pissed off giant lizard. Not to mention the healer who had to tend its wounds.

  “The breeding program has been marginally successful, but these beasts are still rare…”

  Yeah, yeah, yeah. All I could do was stare at the hag and wonder if she was one of Rol’s girlfriends. Gross.

  Then a klatchKeeper tried to eat one of the Dana’Kell again, the hags
had threatened to boil up a priest who made one of the Circle girls cry, and eating that healing stew had made me a little sick. So much for healing.

  Before I went to my own place, I stopped by the healer’s hut and checked on Jazz. She was asleep, but her sheets were all twisted, her blanket kicked off, and it looked like she’d been tossing and turning. I pulled her blanket up to her shoulders and then just watched her for a few moments, not wanting to wake her. She was so beautiful with her black hair spread out around her pillow, but she was frowning in her sleep. I wondered what she was dreaming about.

  I hoped it wasn’t anything to do with me kissing Sherise.

  When I got to my humble abode—okay, it was a two-room shack that still had really clean floors from Jazz’s last cleaning attack—I took off my sword belt and laid it with the sword on a chair. I pulled off my T-shirt, tossed it aside, and threw myself on my couch so that I was resting on my back, staring at the open-beamed ceiling.

  My place was actually pretty cool, although not exactly kingly. I had my own TV to keep up a little with the modern world outside of L.O.S.T, an awesome multimedia center, a table with some chairs, a sink with cabinets above it, a microwave, a small fridge, some junk food, and of course a bathroom. I had shelves filled with books on oldeMagic that I’d been reading, hoping I’d find a spell or something to figure out how to rescue Todd. Dame Corey and Dad were really going to get on my case if they found out I’d been digging into oldeMagic.

  You don’t have the focus for that, Bren.

  You aren’t ready for that level of spellwork, Bren.

  You have more important things to learn.

  Yeah, yeah. I could hear it now.

  My eyelids felt heavy, and I covered my eyes with my forearm. I shifted on the couch, trying to get comfortable. Something felt like it was poking at my head, but I was too tired to care. Tired, so tired, but I thought I heard something. Something rustling.