by Jade Kerrion
She emerged from the smoldering rock pile to stand upon the smoking mountaintop of Anak Krakatoa. In the distance, she saw a speedboat. The trails it left in the water confirmed that it had circled the island several times, but had finally called off its search. It was too far for her to see its occupants, but she knew both Varun and Ashe were in the speedboat. The small speck hovering over the boat was Jinn, the parrot.
Ondine traced the open wound on the side of her face, from her hairline down to her chin. It had slashed over her cheekbone, narrowly missing her eye. The wound no longer wept blood, but it exposed the essence beneath—not human flesh but the golden glow of eternal fire.
Jinn had inflicted that wound, and it defied healing even though no natural creature could have injured an elemental beyond her ability to heal herself. That gray parrot that served as Ashe’s voice was a great deal more than it appeared to be.
“We will meet again,” Ondine murmured. Her voice traveled on a breath of smoke. It trailed into tendrils of gray, blending into the air. “When you come for Zamir—and you will—Ereshkigal will be waiting for you, Asherah. Just as will I be waiting for you, Varun. You will learn, as I have, that love is both salvation…
“And damnation.”
THE END
Journey with Ashe and Varun into the underworld in CURSED FLAME…
When gods battle, worlds shatter. Now it's the Earth turn…
The queen of the underworld has stolen the mermaid Ashe's most treasured possession. To reclaim it, Ashe must unravel ancient mysteries to find the doorway to hell.
She doesn't need or want the marine biologist Varun tagging along. There is no safety for a mortal in a war between elementals and vengeful gods, but curiosity is one of his greatest vices, second only to his love for Ashe.
Love does not guarantee access to all her secrets. Without the facts, Varun cannot possibly understand the risks, especially when the queen of the underworld is convinced that Ashe is far more than she pretends to be…
…a goddess in hiding—the queen of heaven and earth.
Read CURSED FLAME now!
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Author’s Note
February 25, 2019
Dear readers and friends,
CURSED TIDES may have begun with a picture and started out in the realm of fairy tale, but like all of my novels, the DAUGHTER OF AIR series evolved quickly into a blend of urban fantasy, science fiction, and mythology.
None of it was planned. The world-building cascaded organically, sometimes springing from the pictures in my mind as they morphed into words. In this particular case, the technologically advanced Beltiamatu society, which claimed to precede the humans on Earth, demanded a backstory.
Where had they come from?
Who were among the first “alien visitors” on Earth?
Sumerian culture abounds with stories of aliens colonizing Earth. The myths of the Anunnaki include stories of Ereshkigal, the queen of the underworld.
As always, the storyteller’s challenge is blending “what is” into “what you want it to be.” Are you ready for a mind-twisting blending of ancient Sumerian mythology into Earth’s present crises and future wars?
How far will Ashe go to save her son? And what will it cost Varun?
Grab your copy of CURSED FLAME! It’s going to be an awesome ride!
Turn the page for a sneak peek of CURSED FLAME, and stay tuned for more Author’s Notes with behind-the-scenes stories. Happy reading!
Love, Jade
Cursed Flame
Chapter One Sneak Peek!
When gods battle, worlds shatter. Now it's the Earth turn…
The queen of the underworld has stolen the mermaid Ashe's most treasured possession. To reclaim it, Ashe must unravel ancient mysteries to find the doorway to hell.
She doesn't need or want the marine biologist Varun tagging along. There is no safety for a mortal in a war between elementals and vengeful gods, but curiosity is one of his greatest vices, second only to his love for Ashe.
Love does not guarantee access to all her secrets. Without the facts, Varun cannot possibly understand the risks, especially when the queen of the underworld is convinced that Ashe is far more than she pretends to be…
…a goddess in hiding—the queen of heaven and earth.
CHAPTER ONE
Ash-filled smoke rose from the jagged-edged caldera and layered into dense, black clouds. Lava poured down Anak Krakatoa like a cauldron boiling over, a river of molten rock—glowing red and shining gold against dark basalt—creeping toward the sea. Far beneath, the waves tossed, churning as if they knew the forces of nature headed toward the volcano.
In a way, they did.
Oceanids darted past the speedboat fleeing from the eruption, their long hair sweeping across their bodies like living garments. One of them twisted around to circle the boat, then her head popped out of the water. Her blue-gray hair and skin perfectly matched the color of the water around her, rendering her mostly invisible to human eyes.
The two people on the speedboat were not human, however. Not entirely.
Ashe, once a mermaid, now a Daughter of Air and the Lady of the Ocean, leaned over the edge of the speedboat to speak to the Oceanid. The muteness of her human form was but a minor inconvenience. Jinn, the gray parrot perched on Ashe’s shoulder, gave voice to her words. “Do you have it under control?” she asked the water elemental.
“Do I have what under control?” the Oceanid shot back. She folded her arms across her chest and scowled at Ashe. “Do you know how we find you? We look for whatever is blowing up, and there you are!”
“It doesn’t get easier than that.” Ashe glanced over her shoulder at Varun, who stood at the rear of the boat. His hand covered his mouth, and she was certain that his cough was not quite a cough. His twitching cheek muscles gave him away. “It’s not funny,” she told him.
“Dumbass,” Jinn added.
Waves swished around the irate Oceanid. “Do you know that smoke is still rising from Shulim?”
Ashe drew a sharp breath, and expelled it in a trembling sigh. The smoke would rise over the ruins of Shulim for months, perhaps even years. The heavy cloud of ash over the Levantine Sea visibly marked the location of the capital city of the merfolk—the Beltiamatu—except that there was nothing left of it beneath the waves. The Dirga Tiamatu, the weapon powered by the Earth’s core, had once destroyed Atlantis and Krakatoa. Shulim was its third and final victim.
Air swirled, tugging at the long strands of Ashe’s blue-green hair. She glanced up. A human would have seen nothing. Ashe, however, looked into the bright eyes and vacuous smile of an air sylph. She threw her thoughts out to Jinn, who spoke for her. “Don’t you have something more important to do?”
The air sylph—a young one, scarcely beginning her three hundred years of service with the Daughters of Air—blinked repeatedly, as if the action would hasten or at least focus her thoughts. Then, she frowned and shook her head.
Ashe sighed. “The volcano?”
The light breeze dancing around Ashe stilled. Ashe rolled her eyes. The infant air sylph was thinking about it, and it would take her a while, assuming she did not lose her thought process somewhere along the way. Why didn’t the Daughters of Air send someone more experienced to handle the weather changes spewed by the volcano?
Oh, wait. I’m the experienced one.
And the one who created this mess.
She could have handled it easily, except that Ereshkigal, the Great Arbiter of Life and Death, had trapped Ashe permanently in her human form. She could deal with her muteness and her constantly aching, blistered feet. The wrenching fear, deep in the pit of the stomach, that she was somehow changed—lessened—was a great deal harder to bear.
But trapped or not, Ashe was powerful, still a Daughter of Air, still Lad
y of the Ocean.
Ashe raised her hands, and the wind came at her call. It dashed around her—and the distracted infant air sylph—then spiraled toward Anak Krakatoa, gathering the sprawling smoke into a vertical funnel.
Varun spoke up. “What’s the wind doing?”
Mostly out of habit, Ashe flicked her fingers to sign her response. Jinn warbled merrily, speaking the words Ashe put directly in the parrot’s mind. “The wind’s shifting the smoke into the upper reaches of the atmosphere instead of allowing it to spread as low-hanging clouds. It will contain the heat and mineral-polluted air to the local area so it all comes back down on the volcano.”
“Will it work?”
She shrugged. “It didn’t the last time Krakatoa blew up, but that was much larger, and unnatural.”
Varun was silent for a moment, and when he continued speaking, his voice was edged with incredulity. “There wasn’t anything natural about a goddess rising out of her prison beneath Krakatoa, or the elemental battle that followed.”
“You’re still human, at least in most ways that matter. I suppose you’d see it that way.”
“What way?”
He sounded frustrated. She turned around. Varun’s arms were folded across his chest, his fingers digging into his bicep, knuckles white. She fought to control her temper, but it was less difficult than she thought it would be. Something wild and panicked in Varun’s eyes—like that of a lost child—sliced the edge off her habitual irritation. Even Jinn’s raucous tone sounded less mocking as the parrot delivered her words. “Your perspective of what’s normal is skewed by the world you came from. Elementals stepping on each other’s toes is no different from the little battles you humans fight, like gang skirmishes for control of a street corner. The Dirga Tiamatu, however, that’s like a…”
“Nuclear bomb going off in New York City,” Varun finished.
She nodded.
“And a goddess emerging from her several millennia-long imprisonment? Is that normal too?”
Ashe turned to look back at Anak Krakatoa. “That’s…different.”
Water splashed against the side of the speedboat. Ashe looked down into the Oceanid’s glowering gaze. “Why are you still here?”
“Do you know what you’re going to blow up next?” the Oceanid asked. “Maybe we can beat you there and be in place when all the excitement starts. Front row seats.”
Ashe scowled at the Oceanid. She had always considered them more fun-loving than the shy Nereids, but at that moment, she would have chosen shy over mouthy. “I’ll be sure to send a note via dolphin mail.”
The Oceanid sneered and vanished into the sea with an audible splash. Water sprayed over the side of the speedboat.
Ashe rolled her eyes and turned toward the helm to take the controls.
Waves surged, trembling. The earth rocked, convulsing as it broke apart.
She spun around and stared up at the volcano as the thick clouds of black smoke split to reveal flashing streaks of green and yellow.
Varun inhaled sharply. “That doesn’t look right.” He glanced at Ashe. “Where’s the Isriq Genii?”
The Isriq Genii. The soul-stealing dagger, forged in a demon’s heart from the core of a fallen star. “I…” She stared back at the volcano.
Varun’s voice rose. “You don’t have it?”
“No,” she snapped back at him. “I was a little busy fighting off Beltiamatu and corrupted golems. I didn’t pick it up after Ondine stabbed you.” Ashe gaped at the green-black ooze leaking over the top of the caldera. It sizzled in the molten lava and vanished within moments, but she had not imagined it. “Did you see that? Do you think it’s the Isriq Genii burning up?”
“Can it?” Varun asked. “Can that dagger be destroyed?” He stiffened, then shuddered, and she knew he had heard it too.
The regular deep bass rhythm, the heartbeat of the universe, stuttered before slowly stabilizing. Yet, to Ashe, it was neither as steady nor as comforting as it had been moments before.
“Something’s changed,” Varun murmured. His eyes were closed and his face raised to the steady gusts of wind blowing toward Krakatoa. It tugged at his brown hair in an almost affectionate caress.
Ashe studied Varun. He was an earth elemental now, his powers granted by Duggae’s self-sacrifice. Would it change him?
She did not know, and she was afraid to find out.
How could it not change him? In Krakatoa’s ancient core, Ashe and Varun had survived their encounter with Ereshkigal, but not without terrible losses. Duggae, the earth elemental, had sacrificed his life to save Varun. Ondine, Varun’s girlfriend, possessed by Neti, Ereshkigal’s loyal servant, was dead, too. And Zamir, Ashe’s son, was lost to her, his nascent soul enslaved by Ereshkigal.
Ashe pressed her hand against the deep ache in the pit of her stomach. Zamir’s not lost forever—just until I get him back. Over the course of three centuries, she had passed between realms and transformed from one species to another for love of her son. Going into the underworld and wresting his soul from Ereshkigal’s grip would simply be another thing on her to-do list. It’s what mothers do. They take on hell itself to save their children.
Sometimes literally.
Varun’s jagged inhalation snapped Ashe’s attention back to the urgency of the moment. “It’s different.” The furrow on his brow deepened. “The sound I hear in my head…it’s quicker, darker.” He raised his head, and their eyes met; hers as they had always been—blue-green, speckled with gold; his once brown eyes now darkened to pitch black, flecked with silver.
“It’s the heartbeat of the universe,” she said.
“Yeah? Well, it switched from a slow dance to a rave, and it’s not switching back.” His jaw tightened. “What happened? What made it change?”
“I don’t know.” Ashe gunned the engine of the speedboat, then glanced up at the volcano. The faint glimpses of unnatural green and yellow smoke were no longer visible amid the black fumes of ash. Perhaps it was the Isriq Genii burning up. Perhaps it was something else.
Something more.
Something worse.
Her gaze fell on Varun. He stood straight, but his knuckles, clenched on the steel rim of the speedboat, were white. His unsteady breaths and stricken eyes betrayed shock, pain, and loss. Far beneath the waves, the earth rumbled. It could have been aftershocks from Krakatoa, except that Ashe sensed the flickers of Varun’s power. The earth was twisting in response to his emotional convulsions.
Ashe ground her teeth and bit back the curse on the tip of her tongue. What was she supposed to do now? It was bad enough when Varun was an overeager marine biologist with a tendency to ask tough questions and an obsession for tracking down difficult answers.
Now, Varun was all that, and more—an infant of an earth elemental, but possessed of a greater elemental’s powers, for Duggae had been among the ancient ones.
And Ondine…Varun had lost the woman he had once loved. A woman he still instinctively tried to protect. A woman he had inadvertently killed in a rockslide when he had chosen to save Ashe instead. How was Varun supposed to live with that kind of guilt?
If anything was going to go wrong, it was going to start—right about now.
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Daughter of Air
“You will be swept away by this genre-blending masterpiece of urban fantasy, science fiction, fairy tales, and mythology.”
CURSED TIDES
She no longer wants to be a part of his world. But he must convince her to save it…
Ashe is one mission away from earning her soul. Nearly three centuries after her disastrous on-land escapade, the former mermaid has a final assignment: protect a marine biologist on his quest to save the oceans. Perhaps it's pure coincidence that Varun Zale is the descendant of the prince she once chose not to kill.
Varun can't explain how storms obey Ashe or why her eye color changes to match the tossing waves, but he suspects she is more than the mute ship captain she pretends to
be. His growing fascination leads him from the shallows of a fairy tale to the depths of a mystery older than recorded time. In the midnight reaches of the ocean, monstrous titans stir. An unstoppable disease becomes a weapon in the hands of the mer-king.
Nothing Varun has ever imagined or believed about mermaids is true. And being wrong could cost him everything…
CURSED BLADE
A cursed dagger. A desperate king. His quest will damn his kingdom, and the entire Earth.
The mer-king has bargained with demons, trading the death of the oceans for his soul. As the seas churn with disease, the marine biologist Varun Zale and the mermaid Ashe battle the mer-king's army across the black tides to the ancient stronghold of Atlantis.
They cannot hold back the mer-king forever, but there might be another way to end his rampage before the demonic bargain is fulfilled. When Ashe's cursed dagger claims a life, it can gift the soul to the king, and the way Ashe looks at Varun makes him wonder if she has identified him as the perfect target.
When the dagger finally strikes, it will rip the shroud of deception. For the mer-king, three centuries is a long time to live with hate, but it's even longer to believe a lie…
CURSED FLAME
When gods battle, worlds shatter. Now it's the Earth turn…
