“I’m going to go and find Tallis,” said Micah. “I’ll be back!”
As he watched her skip from the room, he hoped more than anything that whoever Gabrielle had been, that she was right to send Micah his way. Was it too late to change his mind? He could chase Micah out the door right now and tell her he’d made a mistake.
Why then, were his feet planted firmly to the floor?
It seemed that he’d made his choice.
LILY
THE BEFORE
The cold wind whipped at Lily’s dress as she raised it over her head, leaving her standing on the rocks in her undergarments. The cold worked its way into her bones. Father was right. It wasn’t the weather for swimming, but she didn’t care. She wanted to touch the amethyst again and feel the smoothness of its surface. Maybe she’d be able to dislodge it this time. Although, that wasn’t such a good idea. She couldn’t risk Mother getting her hands on it again.
She plunged into the freezing water and swam to the ocean floor with her hands outstretched. Making her way to the rocks, she suppressed a shiver and reached out for the amethyst, surprised to find that it was warm. It hadn’t been like that last time. She’d have noticed. Especially given the way it was taking the chill off the water.
Her shivering subsided as her fingertips caressed the warmth of the smooth stone and she saw her Prince once again. Golden hair, fair skin, strong hands, and a kind face. There was someone else with him this time. She closed her eyes so that she could see better.
Aunt Micah! He was talking to Aunt Micah. She wasn’t at all sure what they were talking about, but it was clear that her aunt wasn’t happy about it. Her arms were crossed and she was tapping her foot on the floor. Was this a lovers’ quarrel? Surely not. Aunt Micah loved Tallis. She felt a pang in her gut at the thought of her uncle who used to make her giggle as a child, pretending he was a dragon.
She concentrated on every detail of her vision, knowing she was going to need to come to the surface for air. She’d have to figure out the meaning of this later.
With one last look at her Prince and her aunt, she broke contact with the warmth of the stone and kicked her way back up to the surface.
Sitting on the rocks, she dragged in large gulps of air, noticing her father’s boat heading away from the lighthouse. It seemed his visit had come to an end. He never stayed long and sometimes she wondered why he bothered to come at all. Was it worth all that trouble for one glance at his wife? Perhaps it was. After all, she’d gone to a whole lot more trouble just to see the face of her Prince once more.
She was shivering now but decided the warmth of the stone was preferable to returning to the lighthouse.
Plunging back down, she went to the rocks and touched the amethyst again. But instead of the warmth of only moments ago, it was cold, just like when she’d first found it.
She ran her fingers over it and an image of her Prince came to mind. He was reaching out to her, and with her fingers pressed against the stone, it almost felt like they were touching. Aunt Micah was no longer there. It was just the two of them once more.
There were so many questions she wanted to ask him. Who are you? Where are you? Do you see me? How do you know my aunt? Can you help me? But with no way to ask him any of these from under the ocean, instead, she locked eyes with him and pressed her fingers harder to the amethyst, talking to him with her eyes.
He was even more handsome than she’d remembered. His blond hair was messy and his blue eyes clear. He had a fine layer of stubble on his chin and a strong line to his jaw. He was a little older than her but not nearly as old as her aunt. He wasn’t her aunt’s lover. She was ashamed for even thinking such a thing. There was something in his eyes that said he was a man who belonged to no-one. Or was it possible that he belonged to her?
Breaking contact with the amethyst, she went to the surface for air. Her body shivered harder this time and she wrapped herself in her blanket as she made her way back to the lighthouse. There was no use in her Prince saving her if all he found was a frozen corpse.
She climbed the spiral staircase of the lighthouse, passing the empty kitchen on her way to her bedchamber.
Peeling off her soaking wet underwear, she crawled underneath the blankets of her bed and curled into a ball, waiting for the shivering to stop.
Why did it always have to be so cold on this small island made from rocks? It hadn’t been cold in the mines. Quite the opposite, with the warmth of all those small Fossickers digging for treasures, a lantern in one hand and a pick in the other.
Lily had found it a hard life, crawling underneath the ground and hoping the earth didn’t fall on her head and crush her. Many of the Fossickers perished and they all lived in fear. Lily often felt guilty at having been plucked from that horrible existence when those beside her had no choice but to continue on until they grew too tall for the narrow passages of the mines. If they were lucky, they were returned to the families they’d been stolen from. Children taken from the other kingdoms were never sent home. They’d have to leave Feldspar to do that and they were needed here to work. It was no surprise that the population was declining with people refusing to have children, knowing they’d be ripped from their arms as soon as they were old enough to dig.
Lily’s shivering continued, although now she was uncertain if it was from the cold or the memory of how easily she’d been lured from a life that she’d loved into one that she never wanted.
As she drifted off into a troubled sleep, one image kept creeping in her mind. It was the lighthouse crumbling and crashing into the ocean, just like she’d often wished it would. This tower of misery didn’t deserve to stand.
She pushed the image away. Wishes didn’t come true. If they did, she’d be home right now.
AZRAEL
THE BEFORE
Azrael smoothed out the blankets on the bed, knowing she was going to need it, but not quite certain yet who it was for.
The bed was more like a wide shelf, dug out of a wall of sand. Azrael had once slept in this particular bed when she’d been rescued from the desert and brought to the Colony. She’d been half dead. Actually more than that. There’d been only a tiny strand of life she’d been hanging onto. But the healers of The Sands of Naar had worked their magic on her and brought her back to health.
Now, she was a healer herself. Thankfully, desert rescues were rare these days with Empress Rani and Colonel Aarow in charge. People were no longer released into the desert for the crime of touching another person, which meant the healers could concentrate on helping people with other less preventable ailments. Life expectancy in the kingdom had doubled over the past decade and Azrael was proud to have played a pivotal role in this.
She went to the bed carved into the adjacent wall and smoothed down the blankets on that one too.
“How many are coming?”
Azrael spun around at the sound of her mother’s voice.
“Two,” she said. “A man and a woman.”
“Would you like me to stay and help?” asked her mother.
“Yes please, Freya,” she said, unable to break the habit of calling her mother by her first name. “We can heal one each.”
“You should heal whoever’s in worse shape,” said Freya, tying her long gray hair back as she prepared herself for work.
Azrael nodded. There was no point in denying that she was the more powerful healer of the two of them, even though Freya had taught her everything she knew. It was Freya who’d healed her when she’d first been brought here, although she hadn’t known she was her mother back then. It was the first time she’d seen her since she’d been torn from her arms moments after her birth and it had taken them some time to figure out their connection. But they’d made up for lost time now and were as close as any mother and daughter could be.
“Tell me again what you felt.” Freya rubbed her hands together, preparing them for the healing. She knew Azrael didn’t see things. She felt them in a way that was hard to explain.
“I woke this morning unable to shake the feeling that a man and a woman are trying to reach us on foot. They’ve been walking through the desert for days now. They need our help.”
“And you sent Jinn and Toran to fetch them?” asked Freya, nodding.
“Just in time, too, I’d say,” said Azrael.
The door swung open at Azrael’s words. Toran held a woman in his strong arms. Her eyes were closed and her long red hair swung free, like a lick of fire. She was wearing men’s clothes, which made Azrael like her immediately. This was a woman who valued practicality over tradition. Azrael didn’t need to lay her hands on her to know that her spirit was strong.
Jinn was supporting a man with golden hair and fair skin that’d turned pink in the sun. His blue eyes were open and he scanned the room, attempting to smile at Azrael, but not seeming to have the energy to pull it off.
“Azrael and Freya will help you now,” said Jinn, leading the man to one of the beds.
Toran gently laid the woman down on the other bed.
Azrael moved toward the man with golden hair. He groaned softly as he stretched out his legs.
“We’ll get out of your way,” said Jinn.
“Thank you,” said Azrael, without turning around. She needed to focus on their two patients now. Jinn and Toran understood that.
“I’ll take the male.” Freya put a hand on her shoulder. “The woman’s in worse shape.”
Azrael shook her head. “She’s not. He’s sicker than he looks. Don’t be fooled just because his eyes are open and hers are closed.”
“Okay.” Freya stepped away and went to the woman, taking a sponge soaked in water and running it over her cracked lips.
“What’s your name?” Azrael asked the man.
“Raphael,” he said. “I’m Queen Jasmine’s brother.”
“Wintergreen!” Azrael looked at Freya. “They’ve come from Wintergreen.”
Raphael nodded, his eyes seeming to find it difficult to stay open.
“My name’s Azrael and I’m going to heal you. Have you heard of our healings before?”
He nodded.
“My mother’s going to work on your friend. Can you tell us her name?” Healings were always better when a name could be used as it strengthened the connection.
“Micah. Sister of Prince Jeremiah of Forte Cadence.”
“More royalty.” Freya raised her eyebrows at Azrael.
“You’re both going to be fine,” said Azrael. “Don’t try to talk now. Please, just close your eyes and let us work. When you wake up, you’ll be feeling a lot better. Does that sound good?”
He nodded again, his eyes closing and his head lolling to the side, as if he knew he was safe now and could submit to her care.
She scanned Raphael’s body with her hands hovering just over him. A tingling sensation stung her palms. So many of his energy centers were blocked, which was to be expected given how close he was to death. All except the area between his eyes, where his energy boomed like thunder.
Azrael drew in a gasp, realizing that she was dealing with someone quite special here. Raphael wasn’t just the brother of the Queen of Wintergreen, there was something about him that was far more impressive. Raphael was intuitive, his powers just as strong as Azrael’s, if not far stronger. If only he could open his eyes and tell her what he’d seen to bring him to the Colony. It must certainly be something important.
But it wasn’t his areas of strength that she needed to focus on right now. If she wanted him to open his eyes, then she needed to work on his weaknesses.
She placed her hands lightly on his stomach where his energy force was weak, a sure sign of his depleted health. She moved her hands through his energy pattern, pulling the field up and out, resetting it as she went.
When she was satisfied, she moved to the next most urgent center, moving swiftly and confidently up and down his body, kneading her hands through his energy until she felt some of his strength returning as the knots unraveled.
Raphael may be tall and lean, but his mind was strong. He was unlike anyone she’d healed before. She watched him sleeping now and reached for a sponge to dab at his lips. He was dehydrated and exhausted, but he was going to live.
“How’s Micah?” she asked Freya, turning her attention away from Raphael for the first time since she’d begun her healing.
“She’s coming back to us.”
Freya stepped back so that Azrael could scan Micah with her hands.
“Amazing work, as always,” she said, feeling the clean flow of energy.
She paused over the space between Micah’s eyes, wondering if it was possible that she shared Raphael’s gift.
There was certainly a strong pull of energy, far stronger than any ordinary person, but nowhere near as strong as she’d felt in Raphael.
“She has the sight, like you,” said Freya. “Does he have it, too?”
“He does. Far stronger than I’ve ever felt on anyone else before.”
She watched as Freya went to Raphael, carefully scanned his head, then looked across at Azrael with shaking hands. “He… I’ve never felt this before.”
“I know.”
“What do you think it means?”
“That, I don’t know.”
Why had a man with such a gift come seeking their help? Especially a man who already had strong connections within his own kingdom. And why had the sister of the Prince of Forte Cadence come with him?
It was then that Azrael was hit with her very first vision. So clear that she stumbled back and sat down on a chair carved into the sand.
“What’s wrong?” Freya rushed to her side.
Azrael held up her hand to show that she was okay as she closed her eyes and concentrated on what she was seeing in her mind’s eye.
“I see a girl,” she whispered. “She’s under the ocean holding a purple stone. She looks like Micah, only younger. She’s… reaching out to me. I think she wants my help.”
The vision faded and Azrael’s eyes sprang open as all the pieces of the puzzle fell into place.
If Micah was the sister of the Prince of Forte Cadence, she was also the aunt of the Princess who went missing from Rani and Aarow’s wedding, here in the desert.
“What is it?” asked Freya.
“They’ve come to look for Princess Lily,” she said. “Micah’s her aunt and she’s brought the most powerful man she could think of to help find her.”
“But why did they come to us?” Freya crouched in front of her, eyes wide as she sought her answer.
“Perhaps they want to see for themselves where she went missing,” said Azrael.
“Or perhaps they want a healer to come with them,” said Freya.
Azrael shrugged. “I’m not sure about that.”
“I can’t lose you again, my daughter.” Tears poured down Freya’s cheeks.
“They haven’t yet asked me to go anywhere.” Azrael slipped from her seat and wrapped her mother in her arms.
“But they will ask you,” Freya said into her dark hair. “Now that they’ve seen the power of your healings.”
“We don’t know that,” said Azrael, fighting the feeling that Freya might be right. These two strangers had come here for a reason. But only time would tell if that reason involved her. Would she go with them if they asked?
Princess Lily’s disappearance wasn’t her problem. But then again, nor were the people who came to her for a healing, and she helped them. Everyone’s problems were connected in one way or another.
It seemed she had a lot to think about.
LILY
THE BEFORE
“Angel! Get up, you lazy girl. Angel!”
Lily was in a forest filled with fog. This is how she knew she was dreaming. She hadn’t seen a tree since she’d left Forte Cadence with her parents. She couldn’t even see a tree when she strained her eyes from the highest balcony of the lighthouse.
But why could she hear Mother’s voice in the forest? Ignoring her, she
looked around at the trees and saw there were three people standing before her. Her Prince with the golden hair, Aunt Micah, and a woman with dark hair who wore a beautiful robe like the women who’d been at the wedding in the desert. Three angels coming to save her.
“Angel! You need to look for my treasure. Wake up!”
Lily turned her head to the side, forcing her eyes open. She was hot. So hot. No, she wasn’t. She was cold. So cold. She was shaking. Was that why she was so tired?
“Angel! Stop this right now!”
She was in her bed with Mother’s angular face hovering over her.
“I don’t feel too g—” Lily clamped her hand over her mouth as a cough exploded from her chest.
Mother leaped back, her mouth pursed and her hands waving wildly.
Lily wanted to go back to the forest. It was quiet there with her angels. They didn’t screech at her to tell her to get out of bed. They wanted to help her.
“Get up right now!” Mother had one hand on her hip and the other was waggling at Lily.
“I think I’m sick.” Lily groaned and clutched at her chest as she tried to breathe.
“Sick! That’s impossible! Who have you seen to catch a germ from? The King doesn’t carry germs.” Mother leaned in again, peering at Lily’s face as if she could assess her health with her eyes.
The shivering worsened and Lily clutched at her blankets, trying to pull them higher.
“You lazy girl! You don’t want to help me find my treasure today. You’re faking it. You don’t love me. After all I’ve done for you.” Mother made loud, messy sobbing noises that grated on Lily’s ears.
Lily coughed again and curled herself into a ball, trying to warm herself up by protecting her core.
“How did you make yourself so hot?” she asked. “I can feel the heat coming off you from here.”
“I’m not hot. I’m cold. Please, leave me alone.” Lily wanted to cry but that would take too much energy so she concentrated on trying to stop her shivering to distract herself. “I’m sick, Mother.”
The Kingdoms of Evernow Box Set Page 94
