by Tara Brown
Lenny’s hand rose at the same time, instinct again controlled her. She pointed her finger, walking to Lorna. “I’ll kill you if you touch her!”
“Fancy yourself a little witch, my dear?” Lorna mocked her.
Lenny fired a warning shot from her hand, blue lightning jolting from her and blasting the sand next to Lorna’s feet. She leapt back, laughing but scared. Lenny could hear it in her voice.
“Well, well.” Lorna giggled and spun, vanishing from the sandy beach.
Lenny stopped, staring at the place where the sand was burnt. Her fingertip matched it.
She brought her hand in, staring at the discoloration in her skin.
“Dark magic leaves a mark,” Queen Saleen whispered and walked to Lenny. “It will heal, so long as you do no harm.”
Lenny dropped to her knees in the sand, lost in a way she doubted she’d ever come back from. What was this world? What was this reality? It couldn’t be true, it had to be a dream.
She turned to the sea, certain she was dead at the bottom of it and this was false, a nightmare.
But Scar nudged her, sniffing her fingertips. She nibbled at the bluish coloring.
“I knew it,” the queen said as she dropped to her knees too. She turned to Elsie. “Do you remember when you had that dream, you would name the girls Hilde, Amaya, and Ilenia? I knew it then. I knew Ilenia had come to you, bestowing this child on you as a gift to us, from the gods. She would save us from what would come.”
“What is coming?” Elsie asked as she hurried over.
“The war,” Queen Saleen said warningly. “We must all go to the city.” Her eyes lingered on Lenny’s face. “You in particular, my dear. There’s a prophecy you must read.”
“How do you know this?” Elsie stood over her friend, scared.
“Triplet daughters born as the white winter moon sat high in the sky, to a lady of the lake,” Queen Saleen whispered. “There is much more but I don't recall it all. The brothers will help us. We must go to them, at once.”
Lenny sat, staring at the town of Blockley, wondering what would become of her and it. In her soul she felt she must venture to the city and to Pappelwhick Island.
Hilde nestled next to her, leaning on Lenny as Scar was.
The three of them snuggled into each other.
Taking a deep breath, Lenny glanced up at the pale blue sky above. The cloud overhead made her smile. She hoped it was a sign from Amaya that all might be well for her sister.
“It looks like a shark,” Lenny whispered.
Hilde lifted her gaze and laughed softly though tears ran down her cheeks. “You always see sharks, Lenny.” Her voice cracked.
The words, although spoken through grief, made it seem as if nothing had changed at all, but that was a lie. Everything had changed. Not a single thing in her life remained untouched by the mysterious darkness that had come the day her brother was lost at sea.
And Lenny feared—no, she knew—nothing would be the same again.
Not even Blockley.
Epilogue
“Stop trying to itch with it!” Lenny shouted at Ollie as he attempted to move the leg still in the sling as they walked to the docks.
James reached down and scratched the poor dog. Ollie froze and let James scratch him until his leg stopped shaking. “He’s worn it for four days, that’s a good sign.”
“You didn't see him trying to bite it off only a minute ago,” Lenny lamented.
“Take care of yourself and these hounds”—James paused, his eyes flickering to Hilde—“and your sister.”
“I will,” she promised. “Take care of this town and my family, please.”
“Of course.” James nodded, offering Ollie one more scratch. “I’m sorry again about Amaya.”
“Me too,” Lenny said, though she wasn't certain he believed Wen and Amaya had died at sea. Everyone else in town believed it, but James and Master Barnes had both gotten a strangeness in their eyes when they were told.
The funeral had been huge. Josu was noticeably absent again. Lenny was glad Amaya had Wen with her now. She had clearly misjudged Josu and his feelings for her sister.
“Ya off then, Lenny?” Master Barnes said as he walked from the shack. Her finger matched his still, just the one finger though.
“Yes, sir.”
“Well, don't forget these.” He lifted a parcel. “Open it on the ship.”
“Thank you, both of you,” she said and took the heavy box from him. She stood on her tiptoes and offered Master Barnes a kiss on his weathered and bearded cheek. She did the same to James, trying not to linger or take in too much of the scent that made her head spin. “I will miss you both.” She lifted the box. “And I know what this is, and I am grateful. Ask my father to settle up. I’ll get my uncle to give him what he owes me to cover them.”
“No.” Master Barnes shook his head as he reached into his pocket to fish out two biscuits for the hounds who had planted their bottoms and waited patiently. “You saved this town, and your sister and Wen. And I suspect your days of saving lives are just starting. This is me doing my part to help,” he said, hinting he knew more than he let on. Which she assumed he did.
“I will do my best to bring honor to them and you.”
“You already do.” He smiled, his eyes twinkling. She waved once more and walked to the dock with Scar and Ollie.
Everyone was waiting for her when she got there.
Hilde was on board, staring out at the sea, appearing majestic with their mother next to her. The queen waved at the townsfolk who had gathered to watch something they never imagined they might see in all their lives. The princesses were nowhere to be seen.
Lord Ivor met Lenny on the stairs, taking the parcel from her hands without saying a word.
“Thank you,” she offered. They’d been awkward in each other’s presence since everything had happened. His confession, her killing dozens of lupine, the magic. All of it no doubt tainting his feelings for her. Which she didn't blame him for. She felt different about herself. Confused about who she was.
“Behave. No acting like a peasant. Be a lady and don't be a burden to your poor mother,” Her father lectured her as he pulled her in, wrapping her in love and affection. “Whatever this destiny of yours is, if it gets to be too much, come home. I’ll shelter you from this storm, my child.”
She nodded against him, feeling the sadness of parting from her father deep inside her.
“I love you, Lenny.” He kissed the top of her head and turned to Lord Ivor. “You take care of her, at all costs. I can’t lose another one.”
“Yes, sir,” Lord Ivor responded firmly. “With my life, sir.”
“And that all goes double for me,” Uncle Alek said, joining the embrace. She was squished between the two most important men in her life. A perfect haven where she had once believed nothing bad could possibly happen.
“Can one of you pay Master Barnes for my sword. He made me one.”
“Aye, I will,” her father muttered. “Kiss your gran.” He let go of her.
She stumbled from the warmth of that strong embrace into the frailty of the old woman. “Please take care of the cats. Tubby and Sir Kitty are hearth cats. They don't need to go out much and Amaya loves them more than any of us.”
“That’s true,” her father agreed with a laugh.
“I am happy to care for them while you girls are away, Babbysha. And we’ll all wait for your return. I love you, my darling.” Gran hugged her, whispering in her ear, “And whatever this destiny of yours is, don't bring it back here. It’ll kill us all and you’ll be the only one to survive it.”
“I won’t,” Lenny whispered. The words hurt but she knew the truth in them already.
“Get this away from your family and keep it away until you kill it. Because whatever it is, only you can destroy it. I have seen this.” Gran kissed her cheek. “Go to Crail. Meet your family.”
Lenny nodded and kissed her gran once more.
Uncle Cyril waved from the
boardwalk. His creepy smile made Lenny’s skin crawl. But she waved, wondering how he had weathered so many storms with such an evil heart.
Mildred brushed past Lenny, kissing her husband once and boarding the ship.
Uncle Alek’s eyes found Lenny’s, offering a solemn stare. “Take no shit off her.”
Lenny smiled wide.
She kissed them all once more and boarded the ship with Scar and Ollie on her heels.
They sniffed the deck, checking every inch of it.
Lenny stood at the edge. Lord Ivor came and held the box out. “Care to see what they made?”
“I do.” She took the top off and stared wide-eyed at the matching twin blades, glistening with pale bluish hilts. She’d never seen swords so beautiful.
“He must have been working night and day these last few days,” Lord Ivor whispered. “These are the finest blades I’ve ever seen.” He looked at Lenny. “This is elven craft, not man’s.”
They both peered to the left at the smithy and the man who was smashing the hammer down on the steel.
“There is more to the man than either of us knew.” Lord Ivor was shocked.
Lenny lifted them out, placing each one in the leather sheath that was carved ornately to match the blades. She put the belt on, positioning the swords on her hips.
“How does it look?” she asked, surprised but excited by the gift.
“Perfect.” Lord Ivor grinned, his gaze lingering on her body. “Perhaps now men and monsters who come at you will be prepared for the battle they face.”
Realizing something, she hurried back to the plank which her father and uncle were taking away so the ship could leave. She stood in the gap, producing one of the blades. “You cannot give Master Barnes money, it will be an insult. No matter the amount you pay, it will not equal this craftsmanship.”
“Bloody hell!” Her father’s eyes widened. “Take care of those!”
“I will.” She smiled wide, her gaze drifting to Wilfred who waved. She didn't hide it, she waved back. Nevertheless, her secret was hidden as Bethel was next to him, oblivious of him or the love he now felt for her and their unborn son.
“I’m naming him Lenny!” Bethel cried out. “I had a dream it’s a boy and I named him Lenny!”
The ship pushed away from the docks as the words followed Lenny on the breeze.
She blew Bethel a kiss and waved.
The ship pulled farther away from the small town but Lenny couldn't stop staring.
“We’ll be back shortly,” her mother said with a sniffle. She wrapped an arm around Lenny’s shoulders. “My sweet girl. We will be home soon and it will be just as we left it. Nothing changes in Blockley.”
Lenny closed her eyes and wished it. She made her mother’s words into a chant in her mind and when she opened her eyes, the town was smaller but a bluish-colored dome sparkled as it grew over the whole of Blockley. It was made of light and love, all that Lenny had in her.
The dark mark on her finger disappeared.
She smiled and leaned on her mother, confident for the first time in weeks that everything would be okay. She would make it so.
The End
Thank you so much for giving Sword of Mist a chance.
Hope you liked it.
Sword of Storms is next - preorder here!
Also by Tara Brown
If you enjoy this genre, In the Fading Light is similar.
Here is a sample chapter of In the Fading Light!
This isn’t the story I wish it were.
It isn’t a love story.
Please try to see the light in the dark.
Because it is there, hidden and frightened, always overshadowed.
The Blood
The trees sway, tickling each other with their branches, rustling the leaves like secrets being whispered into the breeze. I am not sure if the wind uses them or they use the wind, but the exchange is mesmerizing. A welcome distraction from my current situation.
“Are you ready, my lady?”
A slow smile crosses my lips. She never calls me that unless we are here. Here, the place I used to love coming to see my siblings, is now a place something I want no part of is about to happen. And there are no siblings left.
Her right eye shines as if any second a rogue tear will slip from it, outing us for the lie we live, pretending happiness when we are in pain.
She doesn’t wish it either; the day, the future, the lie.
We had plans—plans to enjoy life free of the burdens of castle and crown.
We had dreams of fleeing to my uncle’s lands again, the place we were the happiest. We only came here to bury one of my brothers, the second to last of my cursed siblings. We had secured passage and were preparing to leave when my remaining brother died, and my name day was sprung upon us.
My name day.
A day that should not have come.
Not even in the darkest off hells would we have imagined this fate.
And now the idea of being named sickens me.
“The dirt on his grave is fresh and black,” I whisper, “they can’t expect me to take the throne so soon. It was to be his. It was always his. It was never mine.”
Gail, my closest friend and companion, grips my hand as her eyes follow mine out the window, to the mound of dirt in the yard of graves where my kin is placed. My beloved siblings are there. All of them but me. Legend says if you sit on the surrounding rocks, you can hear the cries of my family mixed with the windswept gulls and ravens. But alas, I have yet to hear them. Perhaps they avoid me.
“They expect you to take your name, Estelle, that is all. Your father would prefer you not to have the throne. He wants you married, so your husband may run the kingdoms. He is not the sort of man to leave a kingdom to a daughter.” Gail scoffs, our feelings for my father matching.
“Marriage. Has he chosen for me yet?” I ask, hoping she has heard some castle gossip. Certainly the servants would know before I would. My parents have not spoken to me in at least a year’s time. Their recent years have been riddled with deaths, pain, and loss. Deaths they likely wished were mine instead.
“Yes.” Her tone darkens as I imagine her face does, but I can’t meet her gaze as she speaks the names; my eyes are stuck to my brother’s grave. I wish I could hold his hand, press my lips against his cheek, and tease him like I always did. “The Prince of Seven Rivers, Edmond Lamont, and a prince from the South, Prince Griffin Giovanna. They both arrive tonight for the ceremony.”
“From the South? Are you certain?”
“I am.” She swallows what appears to be a lump. “Quite certain. The son of the king of all the South, apart from your uncle’s lands, naturally.”
“Lucky me.”
Her grip tightens. “You are lucky. They are handsome and young. Your sister did not fare so well.”
“Fare well?” I drag my eyes from the graves of my family, desperate to rein in the threatening tears that beg to accompany my wavering voice. “I am the last of seven brothers and sisters. I do not feel lucky. I feel cursed. My sister died in childbirth and five brothers all died in either lonesome misery or my father’s wars. I am the very last child, and my parents’ eyes are heavy with the pain they have suffered, thus I am more akin to the last burden than heir. For I am not my obedient sister nor one of my noble brothers. I am the last and least of their hopes. Once I too am dead, they will be free of the reminder of all they have lost. They would be better off if I ran away. I could fake my death. They would live out their years free of the last of the children, and I would have the life I always wanted. Free from all this.”
“Don't you dare utter those words.” Her dark eyes sparkle with ferocity and passion. “You are still of the blood, you are still their child, and you are still my queen-to-be. Remember that well.” Her words are bold for a servant but she is not that to me. She is Gail, my friend and handmaiden. She has been with me since she was five and I was three. She is mine, and the only thing or person in the world—and that
includes my own heart—who is honest with me at all times. She is the only one who loves me for no reason. The last one. The other six people who loved me that way are gone, lining the yard of graves with all that is left of them, husks and hair. And honestly, they never loved me as well as she does.
I relent and let her wipe my face free of the remnants of pain that linger in my heart. Pain I will never be free of.
“Cheer up.” She forces a merry face and winks at me. “The prince from the South is finer than the prince from the North. Perhaps if you smile and nod enough, he will be yours, and your parents will take to their old age gracefully and give you both the kingdom. The throne is yours either way—why not have a handsome man to fill the hours between council and celebrations?”
She always lightens the mood, but I’m not in the mood for talk of men. “You have a tainted mind. You have since we visited that city in the sands, near my uncle’s palace, where that one particularly handsome man led you out into the gardens they called an oasis.”
Her eyes widen and her cheeks fill with color, but it’s not embarrassment she feels as she revisits her night with the man she thought I was unaware of. My cheeks blush watching her.
“If such a man existed here, I would never leave his arms.” She lifts a finger to graze her lower lip. The whole thing is obscene, but I am excited for her. At least she has lived. In our travels I have always been chaperoned and observed. I have yet to know the warmth of a man pressed against me. I have yet to create memories as lewd as the one she is reliving.
My stomach tightens, making me uncomfortable as she dallies in the memory. I walk to the door, leaving her in her trance of debauchery and sin. The hallway is silent, everything is. No one is eager to have a party for the last of the blood. The least of the blood. No one wants to celebrate my name, not even me.
If I am able to find a corner to fade into, I will. From there I will plan my silent escape. I will be free of this life. I will live in the forest if I must, as a peasant who survives off the earth and asks for nothing. I would rather a thousand lives of that, than one of forced marriage and a cold wedding bed.
