Alder
Melody Robinette
Contents
ALDER
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Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Also by Melody Robinette
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About the Author
ALDER
Book Three of the Underground Series
Copyright 2016 by Melody Robinette
All rights reserved.
This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This story is a work of fiction. Names characters, places and incidents either are the product of my imagination or are used fictitiously and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Cover illustration and jacket design by Nathalia Suellen
Editing by Esther Doucet
Available in ebook and paperback
http://www.melodyrobinette.com
For all of my grandparents, who always encouraged my imagination, supported me in all things, and showed me how magical childhood could be at Grandma’s House.
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1
Crowning Glory
Autumn’s grandmother’s crown rested on a wine-colored cushion, staring at her with its jewel and diamond eyes. She didn’t touch it. She didn’t want to. It looked as if one touch would cause the silver to tarnish and the jewels to dull. She found it bizarre that this diadem once belonged to a woman who died years before she was even born.
Autumn had always liked the thought of objects having memories, as if the past had seeped into their cores, enhancing their essence and giving them a unique personality. This crown was no exception. It gave off an air of wisdom and reserved kindness, qualities Autumn was told her grandmother once had, which was a nice balance to her larger than life grandfather. Her heart wrenched slightly at the thought of him. A few months had passed since his sudden death, but it was still fresh in her mind.
Scenes of that horrifying day flashed through her mind. Vyra killing Victor’s father. Victor killing Vyra in turn. Autumn dropping to her knees when she thought her brother was gone. Avery pulling her into his arms. Ember lying still on the ground with Kyndel sobbing over her. The warlock, Sam, reviving her. And then those words that escaped from that elf woman’s mouth. Words that changed Autumn’s life once again. The king is dead.
Vyra’s final act of hatred against the Oaken family.
The second Underground War had been her evil plan all along, to distract the elves enough to get to the king. But her plan had backfired, and the Underground was more united than ever before. Warlocks were working hand in hand with elves to devise a plan to rid the Underground of Shadows and Atrums once and for all. The vampires had been laboring tirelessly in their laboratories, attempting to find a way to permanently destroy the Shadows and keep them from multiplying. So far, though, they had been unsuccessful.
Victor seemed to be thriving with his sister gone. Atrum and Shadow attacks had tripled since Vyra’s death. The Warriors had been sent out to fight ten times already that week. Purple bruises and shallow crimson cuts covered Autumn’s body. Being queen hadn’t kept her from fighting. If anything, she felt more protective of her home than ever before.
Suddenly a knock resounded from her new, solid iron doors, guaranteed to keep out even the largest of Shadow armies.
“Come in,” she called, moving to stand from her winged armchair.
“It’s just me,” Luke said, stepping into her new living quarters wearing his Warrior uniform.
Now that they were King and Queen, they lived at the base of Arbor Castle in Olympus’s old rooms. If Autumn cared enough to make a fuss about it, she would’ve happily stayed in her old Branch 308. But it was tradition, and some traditions were not meant to be broken. They had broken so many already.
Luke moved to sit in the winged armchair across from her. He looked older than he had just a few months ago somehow. He’d let the red-tinted scruff on his face grow out a bit and had actually begun forcing his hair to lay mostly flat rather than allowing it to stick up in all directions. But the change in her brother wasn’t just physical. From the moment they were dubbed the new elf rulers, his stance had changed. He stood up straighter, talked with more conviction and had stopped making out with every girl he saw—except for Crystal, of course.
“Where’s Crys?” Autumn asked.
“She’s meeting with Kyle Butler about that empty shop in City Circle,” he said.
“Wow, what an overachiever. We barely graduated in May, and she’s already looking to buy her own couturier shop in addition to protecting the Underground from evil with the rest of the Warriors.”
Luke laughed. “As opposed to ruling the elf kingdom in addition to protecting the Underground from evil? Like we do?”
“True.”
Luke looked around the cavernous room with searching eyes. “Where’s Avery?”
“With his mom,” Autumn answered in a subdued voice.
“Is she still not doing well?”
Autumn shook her head dejectedly. “The castle healers had to start tube feeding her. She refuses to eat anything.”
“Maybe we should get the warlocks to see if they can do anything for her. Maybe there’s a spell or something.”
“I don’t think they like to interfere with mental maladies.”
Luke quirked an eyebrow at this. “Maladies?”
“It means—”
“I know what it means. It’s just a weird word. Just because you’re queen now, doesn’t mean you have to talk like you live in the 1800s.”
“And here I’ve been thinking you seemed more mature than before, but alas I was incorrect.”
“Alas? You’re killing me.”
Autumn shook her head playfully at her brother, her loose curls swinging with the motion. “Did you need something or were you just stopping by to criticize my vocabulary?”
“I was just coming to tell you that I confirmed our visit with the little elves at the Elemen Tree next week,” he said, standi
ng now.
“Oh, great. Thanks for setting that up by the way. I’m impressed.”
Autumn thought some of her personality must have rubbed off on Luke because he used to tease her constantly about her need to “save the world.” Now, it seemed, he had learned to empathize, a feat she’d thought forever impossible for him. Though, she thought Crystal’s influence may have had something to do with it.
“There’s more to me than my rugged good looks, after all, it seems,” Luke said with a small chuckle. “Are we still meeting with Atticus today?”
Autumn nodded. “At 2:30 for tea in the Powers Tree. He wanted to meet here, but I insisted we meet outside of the castle. I need a break from it.”
“Same here,” Luke said, sighing as he made his way towards the towering iron door. “Stop staring at that crown, by the way. It’ll drive you crazy. I shut mine in my closet days ago.”
With this, he disappeared through the door leaving Autumn alone with her dead grandmother’s crown once again.
* * *
VICTOR confined himself to his library, his black leaf quill flying across the weathered journal on the desk at which he sat. The journal was the closest thing he had to a confidant, filled with the permanent ink that whispered his innermost thoughts. Secrets, memories, and pain. Long ago, he’d grown tired of the constant and overwhelming loneliness he felt, so he’d sought comfort in the bare pages of a book—pages that were now worn and nearly full. As Victor finished his entry and gently closed it, he ran a hand over the once-black dragon leather cover. It was faded now from years of use, covered in scratches like scars that would never mend.
A knock sounded on the door, jolting Victor from his thoughts.
“What,” he growled.
“Pardon me, Sir, but might I speak with you a moment?” the muffled voice of his chief servant, Thorn, called out.
“Make it quick,” Victor snapped, shoving his book into his desk.
Thorn opened the door just enough to slip inside before shutting it behind him, which was a significant distance judging by the girth of his stomach.
“What is so important that you would feel the need to interrupt my much-needed solitude?”
“Sorry, Your Highness, but I thought you should know that the Shadows are growing restless. I’ve caught several attempting to leave the island without your order. They—”
“They cannot leave without my order. You know that, Thorn,” Victor said impatiently.
“Yes, sir, but they are trying to get to Arbor Falls.”
“As I said—”
“I understand, Your Majesty, but they do have orders to attack Arbor Falls,” Thorn continued nervously, running a hand through his unkempt black hair.
“I gave no such orders,” Victor protested.
“No…but Vyra did.”
Victor stood at this, towering over Thorn, who was now cowering in the corner.
“Vyra is dead.”
“I—I know, Sir. She gave orders to kill the residents of the kingdom before she died, but the Shadows were unable to follow through with them.”
Victor took a step back at this. “I see.”
“So, what do you—?”
“I have a plan, Thorn,” Victor said, walking back to his deck. “But it isn’t the time to go through with it. Not just yet. Meanwhile, I’ll strengthen my ties to the Shadows. They aren’t going anywhere…yet.”
* * *
AUTUMN and Luke sat around a round wooden table in the Powers Tree with Atticus, sipping mint tea and munching on sugary pastries. Autumn scanned the warm oak room in bittersweet reminiscence. It was the weekend, so the desks and chairs were stacked, forgotten against the wall. Not that they had ever had much need for desks during Powers training. Autumn felt like decades had passed since she’d first stepped through the doors, intimidated by all of the other elves who’d known so much more than she and had such remarkable and impressive Powers. Now she was Queen, blindly leading them through the dark, murky waters in which Victor Vaun was attempting to drown them.
“How have you been adjusting to life as rulers?” Atticus asked.
Autumn and Luke exchanged weary glances.
“It’s much more…difficult than I’d ever imagined,” Autumn admitted. “Especially with the war going on. It’s hard to keep up with everything. There are so many decisions to make—most without clear answers.”
Luke nodded his agreement, stuffing another cookie in his mouth. Even with the stress of being king, he still hadn’t lost his ravenous appetite.
“I understand,” Atticus said, nodding. The grave look on his face told Autumn that he truly did. Like Luke, their mentor looked older now too. Gray strands had appeared at his temples and streaked through his sandy brown hair, which he’d allowed to grow longer than Autumn had ever seen it. “Just know that I’m always here if you ever need anything.”
Autumn gave him an appreciative smile. “Thanks, Atticus. You know, without you, we honestly wouldn’t have been prepared to handle something like this. You really were instrumental in getting us to grow up.”
Atticus chuckled. “Well, thank you, but I hope you haven’t grown up too much. Don’t ever lose that passion and drive you both had when I first met you. Our minds are the most imaginative and open when we are young. As we age and experience painful things, it has a way of closing in on itself.”
“I noticed that on our quest,” Autumn agreed. “The children of the other creatures were much more open to accepting us than any of the elders were. They were more curious and listened to what we had to say. That’s how we got the merpeople and the warlocks to consider us initially.”
“Yes, I would assume as much.”
“How is your new set of students?” Luke asked Atticus. “As good as we were?”
Atticus chuckled. “Of course not. Your group was exceptionally talented. Though, the kids this year definitely have promise.”
“I wish Warriors were recruited every year.” Autumn sighed, picking up another pastry and nibbling at its edge. “Give everyone a chance to prove themselves. Not just the elves that happen to be in their fourth-quarter on the year of the Warrior Test.”
Luke jumped in. “And, rather than picking ten Warriors, they could pick two, and just do away with the partner thing, like the warlocks. I think having partners just causes more problems than anything. Everyone should work together as a team.”
“Also, I wish the Warriors were more of a unified group and not just five rotations,” Autumn said. “The young Warriors could learn a lot from the older Warriors and vice versa. Don’t you think?”
“I’ve been saying that for years,” Atticus said with an amused smile. “But, you know how Olympus valued his rules.”
Luke laughed. “That’s the truth.”
“Yes, but the rules are so outdated. And we are the rulers now,” Autumn said almost stubbornly. “Maybe it’s time we made a few changes.”
“I think that’s precisely what we need, Autumn,” Atticus said, raising his glass to her. “To change.”
Autumn and Luke raised their glasses as well. “To change.”
After the twins returned from tea with Atticus, Autumn gently knocked on the door to Avery’s branch. The trek up from the base of the tree was a long one. She missed the days when all Avery had to do to see her was leap down from his balcony to hers. He opened the door with a tired look on his face. Without speaking, he reached for her hand and pulled her to him, embracing her tightly.
“How’s she doing?” Autumn asked delicately as she pulled away to look up into his stormy gray eyes.
He shook his head with a resigned sigh. “I almost wish she would just let go. It would be easier than this.”
“I know,” Autumn soothed, giving his hand a squeeze.
Avery closed the door behind him and came to sit on the stairs beside her. “Any more Shadow attacks?”
“Too many to count. There were several reports from the trolls yesterday, and this morning the vampir
es sent word of two more attacks on Blood Valley. The Shadows are growing out of control, multiplying at an unbelievable rate. We have to find a way to kill Victor. Like, yesterday.”
Avery nodded, staring unseeingly ahead of him. “Yes, except Victor is nearly un-killable. He snuffed out Vyra’s life as easy as blowing out a candle. Vyra, who the Warriors have been trying to defeat for years. And he just—” Avery snapped his fingers.
“I know.” Autumn sighed. “On the bright side, though, the elves are really starting to warm up to the warlock Casters.”
Avery raised up his thumb in false celebration and Autumn frowned, looking down at her clasped hands. “Look, I know things sort of suck right now, but Luke and I are trying, okay? It’s not like we’ve been thoroughly trained on how to be elf rulers. Olympus thought he’d have more time.”
“I know. I’m sorry,” Avery said, running a hand through his golden hair, which looked like it hadn’t been washed for several days. “I need to get out of my branch more. I think my mom’s mental illness is seeping into my own mind somehow.”
“I think some of the Warriors and Casters are meeting at Arbor Lake this evening if you want to come.” She purposefully failed to mention that part of the meeting would be dedicated to discussing the Shadow attacks.
Avery smirked. “Arbor Lake? That seems so amazingly ordinary.”
“That’s the point.”
“Sounds perfect,” he murmured, meeting her hazel eyes with his gray ones. Somehow this still made her heart feel like it was about to fly away.
“And, uh, if you want…you can stay in my room tonight. You know, to get out of your branch for a bit.”
His pupils dilated, and he bit his lip, trying to hide a smile.
“Only if the queen says it’s okay.”
“Oh, don’t worry, I’ve already cleared it with her. In fact, she’s all for it.”
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ALDER (The Underground Series Book 3) Page 1
