The Kingdom Journals Complete Series Box Set

by Tricia Copeland

  Will and Jacob flank me, and we wait for Arne to join us. Orm lights the sage and repeats the incantation to mask our words from those outside the circle.

  When he’s finished, I lift my hood from my head. “Do you know who I am?”

  “May I?” Arne opens his palm.

  “You may.” I lay my hand in his.

  Arne’s eyes dart to mine. “Orm has told the truth, I must admit. I thought you only rumor. Such pain you’ve suffered at the hands of witches, yet you still strive to make peace with us.”

  “Thank you for coming. Has your tribe decided? Will you trade aid to Erik’s tribe for your brother’s freedom?”

  I know it’s a lot to ask of them, to defend an enemy species from attack by your own kind. Still, I must know how far they’re willing to go to regain one of their own.

  “We have a stipulation. We’ll only lend help if an attack is unprovoked and irrational. And, we ask for reciprocal defense against any vampires who may seek to harm us.” Arne’s eyes fall on Erik’s.

  “Do you accept?” I ask Erik.

  “Yes. I give Amaud his freedom.” Erik pats Amaud on the back.

  “Brother.” Arne wraps his arms around Amaud.

  “May I ask another favor of you, Arne?” I inquire once they’ve parted. “You seem to want peace with our people. Is that true?”

  “Yes, it’s best for everyone, witches, vampires, and the humans. There are too many of us now. We won’t survive without working together.”

  “I agree. Can I ask you to suggest two of your coven who would travel with us, be representatives to other covens?”

  Arne’s eyes cut to his men at the top of the hill. “I can’t force any to go with you, but I will ask as I know several who, like my brother, are not content with life in our small settlement.”

  “We would be most grateful. This must be a secret arrangement. My identity and our goal can’t go beyond the confines of this glen. Do you swear it? Can we trust you?” I hold his stare.

  “I do.” Arne agrees.

  “Let’s seal the pact with our handshakes.” Orm extends his hand into the circle.

  Arne, Erik, and I lock arms in agreement. Orm blows on the sage, extinguishing the flames.

  As Arne turns to go, he motions for Amaud to follow. “Brother.”

  Amaud shakes his head. “I’m sorry, brother. But I’m fond of my life with the tribe. We are family now. I wish to stay with them.”

  Arne chuckles. “I thought that’s what you would choose. It’s good to know you’re alive and have had a good life. Will you stay with us a couple of days?”

  Amaud looks to Erik who nods. “We will.”

  Will grasps my arm as we climb to the top of the ridge. “We can’t carry all these witches. They need horses.”

  Following the witches to their village, our troop waits as they gather representatives and horses. We request three, one of each of their men, and one for Orm. The animals whinny and stamp as I approach with a hand full of grasses. After several hours, they grow accustomed to our scent, and we prepare for the next stage of our journey.

  Each of the witches receives a crystal for their necks. We plan to follow the horses, crystal-shielded studs held ready for a potential attack.

  “Are all vampires so leery of those who offer help?” the witch named Hewitt asks. “Look at your numbers? There are three of us and nine of you. We would tire before killing all of you.”

  Will approaches Hewitt. “And what if it were only two vampires to a witch?”

  “It may be a fairer fight,” the second representative offers.

  “Are all witches so daft as to inform vampires as to how to kill their own?” Jacob whispers under his breath as he stuffs his pack full of bread loaves.

  I furrow my brow and give Jacob a hard stare followed by a wink. Then I fit my fingers in my mouth and whistle, signaling for our troop to move. Heading west, we intercept several covens. The witches make contact and convey our purpose. In general, their settlements tend to be closer grouped with humans, as they share more similarities than vampire species do. We stay clear of more populated areas as well as large covens. In almost a year of traveling through Russia, then China, India, Africa, and to the fringes of European civilizations, one in five covens agree that they may attend a summit of both species. Even with these low numbers, we learn much. Smaller covens are more receptive, and Michael’s line shuts us out every time.

  For all my talk of loving travel, the lack of success depresses me. I want to make more progress with the witch covens. Still, I realize my focus must be on our people. Our species must agree to peace with the witches before we can ask them to talk.

  “Will you remain with us, or would you prefer to rejoin your family’s coven when this is over?” I ask Orm as we start to consider plans for the vampire tribunal.

  He looks to Hewitt and the other representative from his coven and then back to me. “No, my place is with you. You’re my family now. I will remain with you.”

  An almost overwhelming sense of belonging washes over me. Here sits this age-old being, wise beyond anyone’s years, and seemingly with virtues as pure as any being I’ve met, willing to risk his life for our cause. Gratitude for the life and comrades—nay, family—Mother Earth has graced me with fills my being. For all my losses, they’ve been replaced two-fold. Yes, my real father was taken from me, but I was given Henry, and now Orm. I sense he will help me stay the course and keep me from attempting something too reckless. I place my hand on his arm. “Thank you, friend.”

  1699

  A date is set for the tribunal, and our sentinels spread the information throughout the old country.

  “I don’t know why you insist on the same year before the turn of the century,” Will complains. “Did we learn nothing? Witch activity is higher than it’s ever been.”

  “In part, I do it to honor them. Don’t worry friend. Besides, Mabon is my favorite holiday. Everyone is always happy around the holidays. We will eat, drink, and dance. Happy vampires equal peaceful talks.” I wrap my hand around his. “We have a good location.”

  “Yes, if we don’t burn to a crisp or die of hydration trying to get there.”

  “That’s why it’s perfect.” I wrap my arms around a palm’s trunk and start to climb. “Witches aren’t as hardy as we are. It’ll be harder for them to attack.”

  “And you’re sure our supposed witch friends won’t betray us.” Will starts up the tree, and it sways with his weight.

  “What are you doing? This tree won’t hold both of us,” I yell down. “Nothing is ever for certain.” I shimmy up to pull a coconut from a branch. Tucking the nut under one arm, I drop to the ground. “Come on, we’ve got some camels to buy.”

  Orm, Gregor, Will, Jacob, and I enter a market outside Cairo to obtain camels. As our group has grown with representatives from various tribes and covens, we acquire ten, thinking two witches can ride at a time and vampires can switch as we tire.

  Camels walk slowly, but we trot them some, crossing fifty to sixty miles a day. We reach the base of the mighty Mount Kilimanjaro in forty-five days. Gregor and John wind round to the south with the witches where they plan to climb halfway to the top. Placing our sentinels along the path, we create a trail for the vampire representatives to follow. A day before the equinox, we gather between the cones of the three volcanoes: Kibo, Mawenzi, and Shira.

  With the fires burning bright, the night comes alive as more join us for the feast. Some play instruments, others dance, and I stare into the flames, remembering the dress Elizabeth slipped over my head the night my family burned, fighting the emptiness that lingers under the surface. You are not alone.

  “I don’t understand why you say this is your favorite holiday.” Elizabeth brings me out of my trance. “You always seem so sad.”

  “But it keeps me close to them, to their dream.” I wrap an arm around her shoulders. “And it reminds me to be grateful for all I have, that nothing is promised in this life.�
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  She squeezes my hand. “We’re very lucky to have had each other all these years.”

  The next morning, we review events of the century since our last tribunal. The Countess Elisabeth Bathory, who is accused of killing six hundred fifty women, raises concerns for our population in that area, and is a major topic. In the end, we decide that local tribes must police their people before humans take notice.

  “She seemed to have unnatural abilities to lure victims,” one witness explains. “Our attempts to subdue her weren’t successful. Every time we tried to plot against her, she escaped.”

  “Do you believe she had magical abilities, was perhaps a mixture of vampire and witch?” I ask.

  Whispers spread through the room.

  “It very well could be,” the witness reports. “Some of the servants were very loyal and helped her hide the bodies. The countess not only drank their blood but mutilated the victims beyond recognition.”

  Following more discussion, the edict that no witch and vampire child shall be sired is repeated and upheld by the representatives. Talks stretch into the next day. There’s concern for the hysteria growing in central Europe, the dead unearthed and staked, for fear they are vampires. Once all the concerns are voiced and questions answered, I tell them of the witch ambassadors on the other side of the mountain.

  “What if I told you I know some witches who are willing to make peace, pledge a truce?” I ask the group.

  Silence falls, and then the whispers reignite.

  “Don’t be shy. What say you?” I question.

  “How could we trust it? How does it benefit us? Why would they approach you? How could we distinguish those honoring a truce from the rest?” The queries roll in.

  “They are witnesses for their people’s thirst for peace,” I finish my plea.

  Whether out of curiosity or disbelief, all gathered follow us down the southern slope. I tell our tribunal about the cave in Mexico and the crystal that blocks magic. Gregor, John, and Orm meet us first, and I relay the story of how I met Orm in the woods.

  “So, you’ve been keeping a witch? Isn’t that against your own principals?” a vampire from Russia accuses.

  Orm spreads his shoulders and raises his chin. “I was not and am not a hostage. I stayed because I believe in the cause. If our people are to flourish, we must make peace.”

  “Here, here,” the witch ambassadors second.

  “See, they want peace as much as we do. None of us want to see our loved ones, our children, persecuted or perish.” I say the words, thinking I’ll never have a child of my own lineage.

  Even with the skepticism, two-thirds of the tribunal representatives are willing to stay and talk with the coven ambassadors. Both sides propose ideas and strategies for growing the movement.

  “What of Michael’s coven?” Gregor asks. “We’ve witnessed their leader’s power. Surely Sonia will strike at anyone, vampire or witch, that opposes her wishes.”

  A hooded witch rises. I’d noted him earlier as he sat head bent of his chest for the entirety of the meetings. “I’m of Michael’s line. If enough witches stand against them, they’ll have to relent.”

  “Who are you? Show yourself.” One next to him stands.

  “I will use the name of Marcus.” He lifts his hood from around his face and the whispers growing throughout the room die. “I represent witches of Michael’s line who do not believe as the others do.”

  “What power do you have?”

  “I serve on the council.”

  “But you do not bear the mark. You are not of Michael’s coven. We are powerless against their edicts.”

  Marcus shakes his head. “If enough of us bind together, we can change the old structure of control.”

  “We won’t start a civil war over this,” another witch puts forth.

  “Let us hope it does not come to that,” Marcus agrees.

  Both groups leave the meeting with a charge of spreading the idea to those we believe are like minded. The sage is extinguished, and we prepare for the journey home.

  Will finds me as I finish stowing my blanket. “It went well. The one from Michael’s line will help our cause.”

  “Yes, we have many to thank.” I focus on my pack.

  “You’re still nervous about Sonia.”

  “I’ll be happy when we have rejoined the others at our new location in the west.”

  Heading south to the cape, we meander through the dark continent and north through Egypt, the Holy Land, Turkey, Italy, and finally to England. We reach London just before the winter solstice and procure a house for the Yule holiday.

  As our small troop takes to the forests to hunt, Elizabeth and I light candles in each room.

  “You should be proud. You’ve achieved much in the past year.”

  I suck in a breath. “I am.”

  “But it doesn’t make you happy.”

  “I don’t rest well, knowing a great evil lurks. I worry for my people and the witches who have taken up this quest. What do you think of Marcus? Does he seem over bold?”

  “He seems quite handsome to me, if that’s what you were thinking.”

  My nose twitches and shoulders shudder, thinking of the sweet smell emanating from his skin. “He’s a strong witch and seems to know much. We’ll see if he can be an ally. Have you grown immune to their scent? Does it not try your nerves?”

  Elizabeth shrugs. “I hold my breath and use my eyes.”

  “You speak as a school girl with a crush.”

  “I’m not that old. What am I supposed to do with over four hundred years left on this earth?”

  “Enjoy yourself, obviously.” I smile at her.

  The doors and shudders slam open, and candles and sage extinguish with a large gust of wind. The air fills with a smell I can never forget. I shove Elizabeth behind me and back to the wall.

  I hear boot falls on the porch, and Sonia’s figure appears in the doorway. She steps across the threshold towards me. “You must have found yourself a witch.”

  “And you’re down a son. Off doing his duty, siring a new breed of Children of Light, I presume?”

  “You speak boldly. So different from the last time we met. Perhaps you believe your guardian angel will always protect you. But let’s not pretend you haven’t been searching for a perfect sire to breed such children, scouring the globe, visiting every tribe possible. Although I did lose track of you the past several years. That’s how I knew you had a witch.” She runs a cold finger across my cheek and smiles.

  My stomach turns as a chill shoots through my skull and down my skeleton. Straightening my spine, I raise my chin. “I’d never heard of the prophecy before six years ago. You’ve kept your secret well. But you’ve wasted lots of energy worrying about us vampires breaking some alleged curse. We have no need for souls.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong.” Her putrid breath pours out of her mouth, and spittle lands on my face. “Have you not noticed? The church is quite strong. There are many believers. Your pagan ways will soon be rejected and lost forever. Your people will be coerced into believing they’re damned. With an uncontrollable race bent on destruction, the witches will have no choice but to step in and do our duty for the good of the human race.”

  “You don’t care about the humans.”

  “You’re right, I don’t. But this is the legend of our beginning, angels so desperate to win favor from their God sired us to keep you from killing the Creator’s beloved humans.”

  Determined to show strength, I take a step towards her. “And you think you show the angels, God you want peace by escalating tensions between our peoples?”

  She shrugs and walks towards the fireplace at the far wall. “Really, I don’t care. Michael’s coven are leaders by birthright. I’ll always protect my own.” When she spins to face us, her skirt swirls in the air, and the logs in the hearth alight.

  My eyes cut to the fire, realizing she could burn us alive with the snap of her fingers. Still, I won’t
be bullied. “What do you want, Sonia? Say it and be gone. Obviously, you aren’t going to kill us.”

  “No, not you.” Her eyes cut to the door. A breeze rushes in, carrying the metallic smell of vampire blood laced in its grip.

  My heart pounds in my chest. How could I be so foolish as to put my people at risk again? How did Sonia find us? Did she kill Orm? Bursts of light outside catch my eye, and I run towards the door. My chin hits a surface, hard as a wall, and I bounce off the invisible barrier.

  “How rude, abandoning a guest before offering tea. Perhaps your mother, oh wait, no, your mother is dead, perhaps—” Sonia whips around to face Elizabeth.

  Outside the light grows brighter, and I lift my gaze to see a glowing being descending from the air. His wings emit shards of light with each beat. As he nears, I recognize the blond hair and brilliant blue eyes and know we will be safe.

  The house shakes as he lands in front of me, kneeling and lowering a body to the ground. When he rises, I realize the body is John’s. Using all my strength, I brace myself for impact as I hurl my body at the seal blocking my exit. Pushing with all my might, I find the barrier lifted and careen full speed towards the blond-headed savior, slamming into him. He places a hand on each of my shoulders. At his touch, a warmth radiates through my body. The unexpected sensation throws me off, and I stare into his face.

  “John.” Elizabeth huddles over our fallen friend, breaking my trance.

  The being releases me, and I drop to my knees beside Elizabeth.

  “I was too late to save your comrade. I’m sorry for your loss.” The being’s words sound like the low sweet chords of a dove’s coo.

  I raise my eyes to meet his. “Thank you for your help—again.”

  His lips form a smile, and my heart flutters in my chest. Blood rushes to my cheeks as I realize my automatic reaction. Still, I can’t pull my eyes from his face.

  Boot heels clunk on the wood behind me, and Sonia’s thick stench surrounds me. “Aren’t you cutting things a little close, again?”