The Kingdom Journals Complete Series Box Set

by Tricia Copeland

  “Sonia, you haven’t changed a bit.” A male voice, like a perfectly tuned cello, glides around the room, landing on my ears. The thick pungent smell of fermenting grapes is replaced with the scents of roses, a freshly cut field, of cream and berries.

  Lowering my arms, I open my eyes to see a tall male being entering through the hole in the wall. Hair of gold, and eyes of blue, he wears a white linen shirt, brown suede pants, and leather boots.

  “I would say I’ve missed you, one of my most powerful nieces, but then I’d be lying.” He strides past Sonia and Thanatos. With his hand over his heart, he bows before Jacob. “Please, may I approach your queen? I mean her no harm.”

  Whatever this being is, Sonia called him a seraph, he’s broken her spell. Trembling, I step forward. Jacob and Will flank me. The man, I dare call him a man, lowers himself to the floor, one knee on the stone, and bows his head. “Miss Scott.”

  “Yes.” Arms folded over my middle for fear I’ll fall apart at any second, I nod.

  “Please.” He extends his hand to me.

  My shaking fingers relax with the warmth of his touch, and an energy flows from his hand into mine, radiating throughout my body. “Who are you?”

  “Not to be rude, but for purposes of ending your present torture, I will jump ahead to the point of my visit.” Letting my fingers trickle from his grip, he turns to Sonia and Thanatos. He circles the witches. “I dare say you have things quite backwards, don’t you? Isn’t it your race who are damned? Your souls cursed to purgatory for eternity?”

  “And whose fault is that? Even so, it will not be that way forever,” Sonia growls at him and points a crooked finger in my direction. “Those creatures will never know redemption.”

  “I don’t think Miss Scott cares about souls. I just pointed it out to make her fully aware of your situation.” He approaches me. “Miss Scott, your ambassadors are dead. Henry, also, I was not able to save. Elizabeth may benefit from your comfort. I’m sorry for your loss, but your witnesses are quite safe on their journeys.”

  He raises his leg, and his foot descends on the floor, rocking the entire structure. “Sonia and Thanatos, you have no more power here, go.”

  A cold blast pours over my head. For a second, I register their honey-sweet odor, and then it’s gone. I check for Will and Jacob and find them beside me.

  “Until we meet again.” The stranger drops to one knee before me.

  I open my mouth to speak, but with a blinding burst, he disappears. My eyes scan the room, the splintered door, shattered windows, and land on the hearth. The air leaves my lungs as I process that all the edict signers are dead. I bury my face in Will’s chest. Wrapping his arms around my back, he squeezes me tight.

  In the next thought, I realize there’s no time for breaking down. I squirm from his grip. Jacob stands as if frozen in front of me. I study him, unable to read his emotion. I blink and he’s gone. I bolt after him, Will on my heels. We follow Jacob to the top of the tower, where he jumps to the alarm.

  “Stop!” I yell at him.

  “Every queen needs an army,” Jacob says as I reach him.

  “What do you mean to do?”

  “Bring the messengers back. They’re the only ones we can trust to stand with you.”

  “You can’t do that. We need them to get the news of the edict to the tribes. Tell him.” I turn to Will.

  He shakes his head. “I’m with Jacob on this.”

  I grab Jacob’s arm. “Call one of each team to return. That way both goals can be met. One hundred seventy-eight should be enough for an army.”

  “If all of them agree to join us,” Will mutters.

  A shrill high sound pierces the air, and I cover my ears. The long tone is followed by a sequence of short and longer ones, as Jacob translates the message in our ancient language.

  Yelps, howls, and growls from the forest animals break out around the fortress. I walk to the edge and look out over the mountains, covered with the early snows.

  “My lady.” Will wraps his coat around my shoulders.

  Shrugging it off, I gather my skirt in my hands. “We should attend to the fallen.”

  We wait as Jacob repeats the alarm and communication to the messengers. Too many thoughts, ideas, and strategies assault my mind, and I shake each off as they form. The sun has finally crested the horizon as Jacob joins us, and we make our way down the spiral staircase.

  Starting with the top level, we go room by room, moving each body to the great hall. I divorce myself from the horror of their deaths. A queen, if that’s what I’m supposed to be, can’t be seen as weak. By the time the messengers start to trickle in, all our friends line the stone floor.

  Mambi of Sambia’s tribe approaches me. “What has happened here?” Her eyes follow the line of vampires laid out on the rock.

  “Witches, two powerful witches, took the castle. We didn’t know they were here until it was too late.”

  “But they spared you.”

  I ball my fingers into fists, cutting my palms with my nails. “Will and Jacob were saved by a seraph. If it weren’t for this mysterious being, I may have been the only one left to serve as witness to their power and to deliver a message.”

  “What is their message?”

  “That we are not to unite.”

  “Will you heed their warning?”

  “No.” I stride to the table and jump to the top. “Please gather.” I project my voice through the room and wait for all to come close. “We suffered a great loss today. But the death of these ambassadors will not be for naught. Your counterparts already make their way back to the tribes to tell the story of the edict and the horrible slaughter of this day. We learned our lesson and will not be caught off guard again. Vampires of these continents are united. I wish to spread our message across the ocean. But, we need an army, an army of believers, ready to fight for our freedom. We march west tonight to the coast for passage to the New World. I hope you will stand with me. These lives cannot be forgotten.”

  “I say we find out who the witches are and slaughter their covens while they sleep.” A male vampire from Romania lands beside me.

  A chant starts low and grows through the crowd. “Blood for blood.”

  Still, some stay silent.

  Fitting my fingers between my lips, I release a high-pitched whistle. “Isn’t that what they want? To draw us out and start a war we will surely lose? We must be strategic in protecting the lives of our people. Uniting the tribes and then bringing the witches to the table to negotiate peace is the smart way.”

  Mambi joins me on the tabletop. “I’m with Anne.”

  Others gather round, but a big faction backs to the exit. “We will take our leave.” The vampire from Romania strides to the body of his ambassador, heaves him onto one shoulder, and walks out the door. Those with him do the same.

  My eyes flit over those that stand with me. I count to eighty-seven. It’s less than half the one hundred seventy-eight, but I figure it to be a good number. I’m not sure how I would have gotten over a hundred vampires across Europe and on a ship to the New World anyway. I have no idea what strategy to take with the present makeshift army before me as it is.

  “We should honor the dead.” I lift a torch from its stand on the wall.

  Gregor takes the torch and, mouthing a silent prayer, alights the body of his tribesman. One by one, we pay tribute to our fallen comrades. My heart aches with the loss, and pressure grows in my chest with the burden of my part in their deaths.

  Heat from the flames and the burning smell of flesh mix, causing my stomach to turn. Sweat pours down my brow, but I hold my tears.

  “Queen, we should rest for the journey.” Will tugs at my arm as I watch the last embers.

  Looking up, I realize the others’ eyes fix on me. “No, we leave now.” I project my voice. “Everyone meet on the ground level, ready for travel.”

  I whisk out the door before my emotions overtake me. Tears must wait. Jumping over the splintered
doors in my room, I find my traveling clothes. Seeing the tea cup filled with blood, my stomach turns. The image of the fair-headed, blue-eyed mysterious seraph dances in my head. But, there isn’t time to ponder him.

  Ripping off my black silk gown, I throw it into the fire. I dress in traveling pants, tunic, and boots, and tuck another outfit in a satchel. This routine I know well, and the act gives me comfort. I fit the bag on my back and coat over my head. Finding my spear and dagger, I zip out the door, through the hall, and down the spiraling staircase. Will and Jacob stand ready with their gear at the front of the group.

  I raise my chin to address my army. “We need to get distance between us and this castle. We run till sunup. Hunt as you can. We will rest at daylight.”

  Heading northwest, our army skirts human civilizations. Our quick pace calms me. Every time thoughts of Sonia, Thanatos, Henry, Sambia, the bloody team cup, and the hundred other fallen comrades enter my consciousness, I focus on my muscles, strong legs propelling me over the countryside, arms pumping with the rhythm of my gait. I plan for the next day, week, year, to keep the heartache over our loss at bay.

  Once we reach Germany, I send most of the group with Jacob south to Spain to procure passage to the New World. Eight—including Mambi, Gregor, and Will—travel with me to England. Four days pass by the time we reach London. The horses in the barn whinny as we approach the property.

  Worrying that the witches are watching, I call out like the coo of a dove to Elizabeth. Seeing her run across the lawn to the barn, it’s all I can do to keep to my hiding place.

  “Anne,” Elizabeth whispers once inside the stable.

  I dart from the stall and wrap my arms around her, swinging her up in the air, like a child. “I’ve missed you so much.”

  “And you too, Anne.” She squeezes me tight. “You’ve come home?”

  “Only for a night. I heard about Henry. I’m so sorry.”

  “How did you know about him?”

  My friends emerge from their hiding places. “We were attacked by the witches that killed Henry. I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s okay,” she whispers in my ear. “I’ll miss him, but Finn was my anam cara. That was a long time ago. What of you, child? Come inside, Faye will want to see you. Your friends too.” Elizabeth motions to those hovering in a ring around us. “We have plenty of room.”

  I follow her to the large boarding house, wondering if I’ll always feel like her little girl. Entering the dwelling, the scent of faerie and humans accost my nose, and my mouth waters. Looking to Will, I note his pained expression. “Perhaps you could wait in the woods.”

  “I will not leave you when there is a possibility the witches will return.”

  “What about the others?”

  “They will stand guard around the perimeter.”

  “Thank you.” I squeeze his arm.

  Elizabeth, Faye, and I have much to catch up on. Twenty-seven years is a lot to tackle in a night. The structure smells and feels like home, and I let my guard down for the first time since the massacre in Asia. I sob into Elizabeth’s chest, staining her nightgown with blood, as I relate the story.

  After a warm bath, I snuggle into my childhood bed with Elizabeth by my side. She describes the night of Henry’s passing.

  “A man came, well not exactly a man. He appeared from nowhere, just after Henry’s death. He said he was sorry he was too late and then disappeared.”

  “It’s likely the same being that broke Sonia’s spell holding Will and Jacob. I have no idea who or what he is. She called him seraph, and he seemed to have dominion over the witches.”

  “I guess it doesn’t matter now.” She kisses my forehead. “Rest my child.”

  I slumber for a full eight hours for the first time in weeks, waking as the sun rises in the east.

  Faye prepares a huge breakfast, and we feast on raw eggs and fresh steak.

  “Won’t you join us?” I ask Elizabeth as I pack my bag.

  “When Faye has passed.” She wraps her arms around me and kisses my cheek.

  “Send me word, and I’ll meet you.” I squeeze her tight.

  “It is agreed.” She holds me at arm’s length. “Now, go be a queen again.”

  “Who have you been talking to?”

  “Not talking, just listening. I’m proud of you. Go make me prouder.”

  The nine of us travel south and gain passage to France across the English Channel. Running through the night, we rejoin Jacob and the rest of the group within two days. Some of the warriors are not accustomed to being close to humans and find resting places in the woods surrounding the sea port. Jacob has secured transport to the New World for our group and rooms at an inn next to the harbor for himself, Will, and me.

  Eating at a table, lying in a bed, feels odd after years on the run, and I wonder what lies ahead for us. What will we do once we’ve visited all the tribes? I imagine settling on a large plot, growing rice, barley, oats, raising cattle and sheep, living out my days with Elizabeth, Will, and Jacob. It will be enough, I try to convince myself.

  At first light, we gather at the dock. Our numbers equal three times the crew size, and the captain rubs his hands together as he eyes our group. Jacob and I approach the man as he barks orders to his first mate.

  Jacob bows low. “Captain de Torres, may I introduce Anne Scott?”

  I curtsey and offer my hand. His eyes meet mine as he takes it and plants a kiss on my knuckles. “Miss Scott, your group is bigger than I imagined.”

  Jacob clears his throat. “I told you we numbered ninety. Is that a problem? We loaded your cargo as you requested yesterday.”

  “Yes, my first mate said your team worked very fast. All looks to be in order. I will ask that any weapons be surrendered.” His gaze travels to Will and the rest of our contingency behind us.

  Will steps forward. “We have no firearms, only hunting instruments. If everyone is disarmed, we will agree.”

  Captain de Torres takes half a step back but squares his shoulders and lifts his chin. “We carry the men of the cloth to their missions in South America.” He motions behind us, where some twenty men, dressed in brown robes approach.

  As they reach us, Captain de Torres plants kisses on each cheek of a priest dressed in a white linen robe adorned with gold threaded embroidery. “Father de Molina, we are so honored to have your men traveling with us. We are just meeting our other travelers.”

  He pushes past me and ushers the group of priests up the ramp onto the ship. The first mate and another hand set a trunk in front of us with instruction to place all our weapons inside. I keep my dagger inside my boot.

  I’ve dressed the part of the rich, high-born heiress, and it pains me to pretend to be an entitled lady. Six weeks at sea drags on like it may last forever. We have fresh fruits and dried meats, but I swear the clergymen must be half witch. They smell of oats and honey. Will, Jacob, and I spend the ten-week journey making sure our people don’t eat the priests, refereeing philosophical discussions between Mambi and the ship’s crew, being polite to Captain de Torres at formal evening dinners when he refers to the savage Indians, smiling during church services, and training with broom and mop handles on the deck at night with our army. We sneak in swims whenever possible, harvesting live fish from the sea. Finally, we land at port in the South Americas.

  “Have you been to Buenos Aires before?” Captain de Torres asks as he escorts me down the ramp to the dock.

  “We haven’t.” I smile at Jacob, keeping up the ruse of our marriage. To Captain de Torres and the rest of the travelers, we are wealthy Europeans who have gathered a workforce to build a sugar cane plantation.

  Once we’ve unloaded the ship, our debt to its crew is paid. We make our way inland, finding only one tribe in the interior. A small group living off the land, they report little knowledge of the progress of the modern world when Will and I spend an evening with them. They agree to further communication in the coming years and add a warrior to our army.

&
nbsp; As spring turns to summer, the peninsula grows cold the further south we travel. At the southern tip, small black and white flightless birds, with short legs and long straight wings, litter the coast. Across the strait, snow covers the tip of the land beyond.

  Heading back north, we avoid populated ports, preferring the mountain peaks. Rainy season comes, and we travel into the dense interior forests. The abundance of plant and animal life rivals that of the African continent’s jungles, and we find several tribes tucked within the remote region. They are warier of strangers than the southern tribe and ask that we move on.

  We expected traveling with a large group to be challenging and many times split into smaller teams. On the voyage across the Atlantic, we’d studied maps and planned out routes, so we know where the others will be. Our keen sense of smell helps in this area, and we gather at the northern coast of South America for Mabon.

  The holiday hits me hard, thinking of my family and our recent loss, but I smile and act my part. We all gather for the night, eating, drinking, and thanking the Earth for her bounties. Our journey fits well with the seasons as we make our way north though tropical jungles to the arid desert. The North American land form is large, and the enormity of our tasks weighs on me. Still, the memory of our comrade’s slaughter fuels my resolve, and the story serves to bind our army and the tribes we visit.

  Here, they already feel the intrusion of the European settlers as native peoples are pushed west and inland. About two of three tribes yearn for a life free from war and agree with our philosophies. My group swells to over one hundred as we reach the northern tip of the North American continent in September of the next year.

  Jacob and I sit on the beach, looking out over the sea, the Russian coast low on the horizon across the strait. “Can you smell it? Do you miss your homeland?”

  “Yes and no.” His eyes are trained on the view ahead. “You know you have to stop at some point, right? There will be an end to this mission. What will you do then?”

  “I don’t know.” I shake my head and look over the waves.

  “Surely you want a home, a family to share it with.”