Fragile Destiny (The Aether Chronicles)
Page 1
Woodbury, Minnesota
Copyright Information
Fragile Destiny © 2014 by Suzanne Lazear.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any matter whatsoever, including Internet usage, without written permission from Flux, except in the form of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
As the purchaser of this ebook, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this ebook on screen. The text may not be otherwise reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, or recorded on any other storage device in any form or by any means.
Any unauthorized usage of the text without express written permission of the publisher is a violation of the author’s copyright and is illegal and punishable by law.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. Cover models used for illustrative purposes only and may not endorse or represent the book’s subject.
First e-book edition © 2014
E-book ISBN: 9780738741031
Book design by Bob Gaul
Cover design by Kevin R. Brown
Cover image: iStockphoto.com/11473356/©Alexey Ivanov
Cover illustration by John Kicksee/The July Group
Flux is an imprint of Llewellyn Worldwide Ltd.
Flux does not participate in, endorse, or have any authority or responsibility concerning private business arrangements between our authors and the public.
Any Internet references contained in this work are current at publication time, but the publisher cannot guarantee that a specific reference will continue or be maintained. Please refer to the publisher’s website for links to current author websites.
Flux
Llewellyn Worldwide Ltd.
2143 Wooddale Drive
Woodbury, MN 55125
www.fluxnow.com
Manufactured in the United States of America
Dad, this one’s for you.
And for Erika.
Miss you both.
’Twas brillig, and the slithy toves,
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All the mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.
—Lewis Carroll, “Jabberwocky”
Prologue
Fight and Flight
“Where are we going, Quinn? Where are James and Steven?” Elise gripped Quinn’s large hand tightly with her small one as they hurried through the darkness. Something was wrong, and had been wrong ever since Quinn had retrieved her from dance class yesterday, shoved a valise into her hands, and hauled her onto an airship with no explanation whatsoever.
She wished someone would tell her what was happening.
“I told you, we’re going to meet Mathias in the park,” Quinn shushed, walking even faster through a giant place that he called “Central Park.”
“Then you’ll tell me what’s going on?” Cold chilled her to the bone, and hunger and fear gnawed at her belly. She pulled her cape closer. Fatigue made each footfall a chore. “I want Dadaí.” Elise hadn’t called her father that in a long time, but that’s what she wanted right now. Her daddy. Even if he was often irritable—when he was around.
“Hush. Head down, walk fast, don’t make eye contact,” Quinn whispered as he put an arm around her, bringing her close as they hurried down the dark path. The sun still hadn’t awoken, and the chill in the air made her shiver.
A humming under her skin sent prickles up her spine. Magic. Her heart beat faster as her small legs struggled to match Quinn’s much longer stride.
“Quinn the Fair, halt,” someone yelled from behind them.
Quinn the Fair? Certainly her tutor was fair, with his near-white hair and pale skin. But she’d never heard him called that before.
“Run.” Quinn half-dragged her down the path. They ran until her chest ached and she could barely breathe. The magic closed in on them like a net. Fear crept through her, twining around her limbs like morning fog. She tried to push it away. Quinn was here, he’d protect her.
When they ducked behind a tree, he pressed a card into her hand. “Run until you find a policeman. Tell him that you’re lost and men are chasing you. Give him this and say that your dadaí is at that address.”
“Dadaí’s there?” The idea of running more made her want to collapse. However, the urgency in his voice made her heart skip a beat.
“No, it’s Mathias. Pretend that he’s your dadaí. He’ll keep you safe until we can find your brothers. I give you permission to use magic to defend yourself—any kind of magic you like.” His blue eyes sliced through her like a knife through bread.
“What?” The words only cemented the fact that something was dreadfully wrong. Usually she wasn’t allowed to use magic unless it was a lesson, and then only earth magic.
Someone yelled from down the path, “There they are!”
Quinn kissed her forehead. “Be good. Now, run. Don’t let them catch you, no matter what. Go.” He pushed her. “Run—and don’t look back.”
Nodding, Elise barreled down the path, as fast as her feet could take her, valise thumping across her back. Quinn wouldn’t tell her to do such a thing unless it was important.
“Ah, I caught you.” A man in a strange green outfit grabbed her around the waist.
Don’t let them catch you no matter what. Quinn’s words rang in her ears.
“No.” Squishing her eyes shut, she launched a little ball of fire at her pursuer. He yelped, and she kicked him in the shins and took off.
Elise sprinted until her legs burned and sweat dripped down her back. She didn’t slow down, not even to look behind her to see if she was still being followed. A policeman. She needed a policeman. Not that she saw one. Maybe it was too early? An ornate gate caught her eye, a garden behind it. Yes, she’d be safe there. She’d catch her breath, then find a policeman.
She sent out a hint of magic to make the gate open. Looking both ways to see if anyone watched, she slipped inside. As she took in the beautiful garden surrounding her, she meandered through an arch of ivy and came to a little pond. Not a soul was in sight. Good. What she needed was a tree to hide her while she rested.
Were there any wood faeries about? A garden like this must have wood faeries. Holding out her hand, she gave them a silent call. A moment later, a green ball of light landed on her finger. The ball of light resembled a tiny man with translucent wings and clothes made of leaves, but she recognized it as a wood faery.
“Hello, I’m lost and tired. Is there a tree that will hide me while I rest?” Elise cocked her head to hear the tiny faery’s answer. “There’s a magic tree that can take me home?” She tried to imagine such a thing. “That would be even better.” Yes, home to Dadaí, Steven, and James. “I’d love it if you’d take me there.”
The little faery led her through the garden to a tree. It glowed with balls of light—pink, yellow, blue, even purple, as tiny faces peered at her.
“Hello there, I’m Elise.” She bobbed a curtsey. “How do I make the tree work? I’ve never traveled by tree before. Usually we just take an auto—or an airship.” Magic thrummed under her fingertips as they brushed the tree’s trunk.
Several faeries attempted to speak at once.
“One at a time, please.” If only she had something in the pocket of her pinafor
e to feed them. If only she had something in her pocket to feed herself. “All I have to do is tell the tree where I’d like to go?”
They kept using the word portal and she had no idea what that meant. Oh, a portal was probably another tree. Yes, magic travel from tree to tree—brilliant! Certainly, not every tree was magic. But Noli had a faery tree. No faeries lived in it, but it was next door to her house. She could climb through the fence and be home. Perfect.
Elise pictured Noli’s tree in her mind and put both hands on the trunk, glad Noli’s tree was so distinctive with its J-shaped trunk and tree house. “I’d like to go there please, to the tree with the house in it.”
Her arms and hands grew tingly. The little green wood faery perched on her shoulder. His presence comforted her. The garden began to spin faster and faster, as if she were on a carousel. Elise gripped the trunk with all her might. Then everything faded away.
“Come out, come out, wherever you are,” Kevighn muttered as he wandered through Central Park. Why would Quinn and the girl come here? And so early. He yawned. Prickles shot up his spine. Quinn and the girl were close. Extremely close.
“You’ll never get her,” someone yelled in the distance.
Magic swirled around him so thick he could practically hold it in his hands. He sprinted toward the clamor. Several men in earth court guardsman’s uniforms flew at a man in mortal clothing—a tall, thin man with pale hair. There was no sign of anyone else. Not even a girl.
Quinn the Fair hurled balls of light at the earth court guards. One of the guards stamped the ground, his earth magic making the path ripple under Quinn’s feet. As Quinn tumbled to the ground, he lobbed more balls of light at the guards.
Kevighn ran faster, fueled by both triumph and anger. He’d found Quinn. No one got to kill Quinn the Fair but him. Taking his bow out of his rucksack, he fired fire arrows into all three of the guards. Not stowing his bow, he breathed a sigh of relief as the guards fell, and then he approached Quinn.
“I never thought I’d be saved by the likes of you.” Quinn lay on the ground, his wiry form crumpled and bleeding.
Kevighn whipped an arrow out of his quiver on his back, the one with Quinn’s name carved into it, and loaded it. “Three on one isn’t fair. Even for someone like you.”
Quinn stood up, his injuries obviously causing him pain. He was hunched over and bleeding, a hand over one of the wounds. “I suppose you mean to kill me, Kevighn?”
His voice was composed. He didn’t tremble, and his calmness angered Kevighn. Quinn should be scared. He should be begging for his life. Anger at Quinn’s lack of reaction swirled within Kevighn.
“Where’s the girl?” Kevighn pointed the bow at Quinn as he cast his eyes about the area searching for a sign of her. Nothing.
“She’s safe. Safe from Tiana, safe from Brogan. She’s a girl, not a pawn,” Quinn spat, his expression challenging, and although the man couldn’t even stand up straight, Kevighn could sense his pride, his strength.
He tightened his lips and resolved to still make Quinn pay. “I don’t work for Tiana anymore,” he retorted, the need for revenge coursing through him. “Also, I’ve always thought Brogan was a prat.”
“Brogan is a prat,” Quinn agreed, color draining out of his pale face. “But Dom … Dom regretted doing what he did, as do I. We … ” His entire being crumpled as the life drained out of him and he sank to the ground. “Creideamh and I could have been happy in exile. Ahh, everything is clearer in hindsight.”
“You killed my sister.” Kevighn prepared to fire at him. Why couldn’t Quinn flinch like a normal man, beg for his life?
“I did. My pride and arrogance killed her.” His blue eyes went misty. “I loved your sister so much. Kill me, Kevighn. Kill me now. At least then I’ll be with her once again.” His body moved slightly to make it a clean and clear shot to the heart.
Of course the bastard would beg to be killed. Fury boiled in Kevighn’s veins. No, no, no. This wasn’t how revenge was supposed to be.
“No, you won’t. She’s in the place where the good and kind people go. You said you were my friend. You promised to protect her. You knew what bringing her into the earth court would do to someone like her.” Kevighn kept his bow trained on Quinn, face and voice burning with a rage so fierce he expected something to ignite at any time.
Only those of the high queen’s line were allowed to possess the talent of more than one court. To have an affinity for both earth and fire was blasphemous, considering those courts were bitter enemies. Even Kevighn’s tiny amount of earth manipulation ability could get him killed. Creideamh’s gift, on the other hand, had grown too great to
hide among the proper elemental courts. So they’d lurked in the dark court, where no one cared.
Until she’d fallen in love with Quinn.
Quinn’s chin rose slightly, eyes brimming with angst that would soften a lesser man’s heart. “I thought that I could protect her. At least … ” His head dropped.
“At least what?” Kevighn demanded, taking a step closer. Why did Quinn always have to be so damn civil?
His voice quieted. “Please, let him know I love him. It’s too little, too late, I know, but it was all we could do.”
“What are you talking about?” Kevighn yelled, anger roaring in his ears.
Quinn didn’t answer, eyes closed, breath fading.
No, Quinn couldn’t die, not unless it was at his hand. Kevighn unleashed the arrow, the arrow he’d carved by hand, pouring all his anger and frustration into it. It zoomed through the air, piercing Quinn in the heart. Blood pooled at the arrow’s entrance. Quinn didn’t move.
“Creideamh, you have been avenged.” Kevighn’s head tilted upward to the grey sky, fist to his heart, bow dangling in his free hand.
Police whistles echoed in the background. Kevighn touched the arrow in Quinn’s chest, reducing it to ash. He drew a glyph in the air, which turned red, erasing his presence for a good hundred yards. His rucksack went over his shoulder and he ducked behind the nearest building, pulling the magic with him to cover his tracks both physically and magically.
He should feel elated, but instead he felt … empty. Unsatisfied. Like he needed to get very drunk and go to bed with a room full of beautiful women.
For so many years, he’d yearned to avenge Creideamh’s death. Now he had. What now?
And what had Quinn been babbling about?
He shook it off. First, he needed to find Ailís.
It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate;
I am the captain of my soul.
—William Ernest Henley, “Invictus”
One
Return to Los Angeles
Noli glanced from her dilapidated house to the neatly kept Darrow residence next door. Her belly rolled with a million different emotions. Between her mother moving to Boston and the shock of finding V and James’ father murdered in his own home by earth court guards, she thought they’d never return to Los Angeles again.
Yet here they were.
“I still can’t believe Uncle Brogan wasn’t home,” James Darrow said, pouting as they stood in front of their houses, the winter sun streaming down onto their backs.
Steven Darrow, whom Noli always called “V,” put his fist to his chest. “Believe me. Father will be avenged. And thus the whirligig of time brings in his revenges.”
“I know. Though I really wish you would stop quoting Chaucer.” James ran a hand through his messy, dark blond curls. Even though he was younger than V, he was taller and broader. But V was catching up.
“It’s Shakespeare,” V grumbled, taking Noli’s hand. “Truly, I should get you his complete works for Christmas.”
Noli had a feeling that James knew very well it was Shakespeare. Riling V could be
amusing.
They’d come straight from the earth court palace, after failing to find Brogan to challenge him to a duel. As luck would have it, their uncle was away on earth court business, so V had suggested they return to the Darrow house in Los Angeles to see if any of Quinn’s journals and research materials were still there. They’d already buried Mr. Darrow at the big house, the family’s home in the Otherworld, and now their main task was to find information about the mysterious artifact Brogan was trying to assemble.
All three were still in Otherworld dress. The boys’ green and brown velvet outfits were heavy with embroidery, their swords on their backs. They both looked so handsome. So … adult. Even Noli still wore an embroidered, green velvet gown with a drop waist and a brown corset on top, with no bustle or crinoline, and her green cloak instead of a cape.
“I think I should sleep at my house.” She shot another sidelong glance at V’s house as a car flew overhead. The idea of staying overnight in the place where V and James’ father had been murdered sent chills up her spine.
“I think we should all sleep at your house, Noli.” James shivered a little, as if echoing her own thoughts. “The last thing I want is to be haunted by Father. I’m sure he’ll find some reason to scold us in our sleep.”
V shoved his brother, a frown tugging at his lips. “How could you say something so disrespectful?”
James shoved him back, his jaw set. “It’s true.”
Actually, Noli could see the dour Mr. Darrow doing just that. However, V had a point about disrespecting the dead.
“I’ll go to the market and buy a few things so we have something to eat. I have a little money,” she told them, partially to escape having to enter the house, partially out of practicality. There’d be nothing edible in either house, she was sure.
Cake, I want cake! the sprite interjected mentally.
Thanks to an ill-worded bargain with High Queen Tiana, Noli currently shared head-space with an earth sprite, and every day it got increasingly difficult to keep her from taking over. V promised to help her fix it. Somehow.