The Elemental Diaries - Complete Series

by Andrea Lamoureux

  My breaths became short and raspy. I had to stop before I had no air left for myself. I sank down into the lounger and stared at the peaked ceiling. Perhaps, no amount of wind could open that door. I’d have to come up with another way to set myself free.

  I woke on the lounger when Aslaug entered my chamber with a tray full of food. Light filtered in through the small window and reflected off the broken decanter from my attempts to escape the previous night.

  Aslaug set the tray down, eyeing the broken crystal.

  I followed her gaze. “Another accident,” I explained.

  She fetched a broom and swept up the shards. “You must be careful, my lady. You could hurt yourself.”

  “Why do you care? If something happens to me, you won’t have to dwell in this tower anymore.”

  Aslaug squared her shoulders. “I’ll have you know, I volunteered to be your handmaid. I wish no ill will upon you. And I only dwell in the chamber beneath yours for convenience. I’m free to come and go as I please.”

  “How nice for you.” I slumped, putting a hand to my disheveled hair.

  “Oh, no.” Aslaug’s shoulders slumped. “I didn’t mean any offense, my lady. I only wanted you to know I am happy to serve you.”

  “It’s all right,” I reassured her. No sense in being cruel to the one person I had left. “I appreciate your kindness.”

  Aslaug brightened. She passed me a bowl of warm oats sprinkled with sugar. “Would you like me to fix your hair after you’ve eaten?”

  I blew on the hot oats. “That sounds lovely.” I really did hate looking unkempt, but I also had an idea…

  “Good.” She smiled coyly.

  Once I finished my meal of, oats, pork, and dried fruit, and I’d downed a cup of water, I let Aslaug comb out my hair. As she leaned into the back of the chair I sat on, braiding my silver locks into a crown, I reached back to where the keys rested in the pocket of her apron. I willed a soft wind to try and fling them from her apron.

  She noticed the movement and jumped back. “My lady, I’m sorry, but I cannot let you have those. If I weren’t to suffer a punishment worse than your own, I’d give you the key myself.”

  She assumed I’d used my hand to try to dig out the keys and not some magical wind. Good. “I had to try,” I confessed, holding her gaze.

  “I understand.” She turned her apron backwards, farther from my reach. She finished braiding my hair. “I would try to escape if I were in your position too.”

  “If you give me the keys, I could make it appear as though I forced you to. I’ll make it look like you had no other choice.” Perhaps she was stupid enough to agree.

  She chewed on her lip and then shook her head. “I’m sorry.” Maybe not.

  I tilted my head like a puppy listening to a strange sound. “Do you believe I’m dangerous, Aslaug?”

  A pause… and then, “No. No, my lady. I mean, I don’t believe you’d ever harm anyone on purpose. But accidents do happen.”

  And I’d already had two, but she believed those to be without the use of my magic.

  I went to the long oval mirror and studied my reflection. She’d done a beautiful job on my hair. I’d even dare to admit she had more talent than Hilda. I stepped away from the mirror and flung open the wardrobe sitting across from the bed I hadn’t slept in. My breath caught in my throat at the beautiful, jeweled gowns staring back at me, begging to be worn. But something besides the numerous shimmering gowns caught my eye. Instead of a wall behind the gowns, the wardrobe opened up to another section of the chamber. I shoved material aside to get a better look at the deep copper washing basin and a small unlit hearth. The wood inside the hearth was charred as if it’d burned through the night.

  Aslaug moved up beside me. “The fire must have gone out sometime last night. I’ll relight it.” She pushed through the gowns to throw new logs into the hearth. When she finished her task, she rejoined me.

  “She really thought of everything, didn’t she?” I mused.

  “You didn’t think Hilda would leave you without a way to keep clean and warm, did you?”

  “I—I guess I thought no one really cared about me anymore.”

  Aslaug tsk’d. “They all mourn the loss of you—your family.”

  “I’m not dead,” I shrilled.

  “I know, my lady. But sometimes it’s easier to pretend than to face the truth.”

  Easier for them to pretend I’d died along with my mother than to face the fact I had magic.

  I sighed, pulling out a lavender gown with a sleeveless bodice and encrusted with shiny, white diamonds. “Will you assist me with this gown?”

  Once I was dressed, Aslaug left me alone again. I sat on the soft bed and stared at the floor. I needed to get out. But where would I go? I could run to the nearest village. Surely someone would take me in and help me get to Terra. I could plead to King Corbin for aid, tell him what my sister and father had done. I had a right to the crown. Star didn’t deserve to sit on my throne while I still breathed. What they’d done… it was treason.

  First, I needed to find a way to get out. If Aslaug wouldn’t give me the key, I’d have to take it from her.

  Chapter 8

  Aslaug brought me more paint like she’d promised. Her eyes sparkled when I showed her the scene I’d painted of a winter landscape. Shades of lavender and blue melted together to make up the sky. Painting helped me clear my mind. By the time I’d finished my piece of work, I’d concocted a new plan.

  As my handmaid leaned over my shoulder, inspecting the painting, I put my hand over her mouth. I willed the air to leave her, stole her breath from her chest. I knew I could control air, but it was a gamble if I’d be able to also steal it. It worked.

  Confusion and then fear flashed in her eyes. She clawed at my hand. Her nails dug into my wrist. I ignored the pain and used my other hand to hold her. Her eyelids fluttered and her body went slack as she fainted onto the floor.

  I scrambled for the keyring in the pocket of her apron. With shaking hands, I pulled it out and rushed to the door. She already stirred as I shoved the key into the lock and turned it. The door opened, and I bolted down the winding stairs. Down, down, down, until I almost smacked into the door at the bottom of the tower.

  I didn’t know which key was used to open that door. There were five on the keyring. I knew which opened my chamber door. I tried the one next to it. It didn’t fit. I moved on to another key.

  Aslaug had woken. I heard her footsteps thundering down the stairs. I worked as quickly as I could, jiggling the door handle. “Goddess dammit!” I swore. The tangy taste of blood filled my mouth. I’d bitten my tongue at some point.

  Just as Aslaug appeared, coming around the last bend of stairs, the lock turned, and I threw the door open.

  Two guards turned. Their mouths gaped open when they saw me.

  I bolted. One of them grabbed me around the waist, and I cried out, a guttural sound.

  The second guard unsheathed his ornate sword and placed it to my throat. “Sorry, Miss Aura. We can’t let you go any farther.”

  With my chin raised to avoid being cut, I stared down at the polished blade. I didn’t move a muscle.

  When the guards realized I wasn’t going to put up a fight, had no choice but to surrender, the sword dropped from my neck. The guard holding onto me spun me around. Aslaug had reached us. Her cheeks were red and stained with tears. Her chest rose and fell hard and fast, but she managed to say, “She tricked me. She—she used magic on me.”

  “It’s all right,” the guard who’d held the sword to my throat said with no sympathy. “We’ve got her. Go find Lord Elis. Tell him what happened.”

  “Y—yes, sir.” Aslaug gathered up her plain white skirts and hurried away.

  The guards dragged me back up the stairs and shoved me into the chamber, but not before one of them plucked the stolen keyring from my clenched fingers.

  The door slammed shut. The lock clicked back into place. I threw myself on the floor
and clawed at the door, screaming like a child throwing a temper tantrum. I was so close. If those guards hadn’t been there… but there would always be guards. Of course, there’d always be guards. And, of course, they’d remain loyal to my father. If I hadn’t been caught there, I’d have been caught before I reached the palace entrance.

  I ceased my tantrum. Something caught my eye. Marks on the wall poked out from beneath the lounger. I crawled underneath it and ran my hand over the scratches in the wood. Markers, I realized. These were markers to keep track of days passing. Pavanas must have made these notches herself. “I know the fate you suffered,” I whispered. “I’m sorry they did this to you.”

  Perhaps Queen Pavanas hadn’t been dangerous. Perhaps her people misunderstood her like mine had.

  Someone moved on the other side of the door, and I scooted back from the lounger. I climbed onto it and curled up on one end like a cat.

  “Auralina.” I knew that masculine voice. It belonged to my father.

  I wrenched my head up and stared at him with hate.

  “I’m sorry, Auralina, but I cannot let you out of this tower,” he said with sympathy. It made me hate him even more.

  “Without Mother, you’re only a lord,” I spat, remembering what the guard had called him; Lord Elis. “You have no say over what happens in this kingdom—what happens to me.”

  Lord Elis spread his callous-free hands out in front of him. “It’s true. Your sister’s been crowned queen, but she gave me permission to deal with you. I’m her right hand. She knows I know what’s best for this kingdom. She’s allowing me to guide her until she learns how to rule.”

  I shot off the lounger and shoved my face in his, mere inches away. “I wish to speak with Her Majesty.”

  My father dropped his indigo gaze, a gaze so like my sister’s. “I’m sorry. I cannot let you see Queen Starella. It’s for her safety.”

  I laughed, but it held no humour. “Stop apologizing. You’re not sorry. I thought you loved me. Mother would’ve never let this happen.”

  “Your mother is dead. And magic killed her.”

  “No, you killed her.” Of course, he blamed someone else for her death. It was easier than admitting she was sick, and he’d failed to protect her. She should never have travelled while she was unwell.

  He raked his hand through his shoulder length, wheat-blond hair and stepped closer to the door. He didn’t bother answering.

  “What do my people think? Surely some of them must be against Starella taking the crown from me.” I wasn’t ready for him to shut me out yet.

  “Star’s people,” he corrected, “believe you have a dangerous power and a sickness of the mind.”

  “Lies,” I sneered.

  “Don’t try to escape again. Next time, you’ll find yourself locked in the dungeon for the rest of your life instead of this tower.” He slammed the door so hard the painting fell off the easel.

  “This is treason!” I shrieked.

  With a cry of frustration, I went to the chess board and knocked it off the table. I did the same with the lamp beside my bed. Then, I flung myself onto the mattress and buried my face in the feather-soft ivory blankets.

  A guard brought me stale bread and a pitcher of water, and I wondered if maybe Aslaug wouldn’t return.

  After days of guards bringing me bland meals and emptying my chamber pot, I believed my guess to be correct.

  I tired of looking at the mess I’d made, so I set the fallen lamp back on my bedside table and picked the chess board and pieces up. I studied the black knight in my hand. The horse’s ear chipped when it had fallen. I remembered Star’s groan the first time I’d taught her to play the strategic game. ‘It’s so complicated,’ she’d complained. I’d beaten her more times than I could count. She hated chess. How would she rule a kingdom when she couldn’t figure out the probable outcome of her moves in a game?

  I didn’t have to come up with an answer. The click of the door sent those thoughts from my mind. I set the piece on the board and watched as Aslaug set a bowl of fish soup down.

  “You came back.”

  She stiffened. “Yes, my lady. Caring for you is my duty. There’s no one else to do it.”

  “I thought the guards were to be my new handmaids,” I drawled.

  Aslaug averted her eyes. “That was only a punishment. They have other responsibilities.”

  I crossed my arms. “And do you still want to care for me?”

  She finally met my eyes. “I—yes, I promised Hilda I would look after you.” She raised her chin. “I won’t go back on my word.” But I saw the way her hands shook. She clasped her fingers together, noticing where my eyes had fallen. “I’ve brought you a proper meal.”

  “I’m not hungry.” I rose to stare out the window.

  She must have noticed the uneaten bread still sitting on the table. “You must eat, my lady.”

  “I said I’m not hungry,” I replied louder and felt her flinch behind me.

  “I’ll leave it in case you change your mind.”

  I didn’t answer, so she slunk back out of my chamber, leaving me with the soup.

  The next morning, as I lay in bed facing the wall, she removed the soup and replaced it with buttered biscuits and pork.

  I didn’t bother getting out of bed that day.

  Another day passed; my food still untouched. Aslaug worked up the courage to coax me into drinking some water.

  I turned my face away as she held the cup to my lips. “Please, my lady,” she begged. “You must drink.”

  My parched throat agreed, but I clamped my mouth shut.

  “Please,” she repeated. “I’ll leave you alone if you have one sip.”

  She kept sitting there, cup in hand, until I grew annoyed enough to take a sip of the cool water.

  “Good,” she cooed as I rolled over and turned my back to her again.

  She left the water beside my bed.

  As she opened the door to exit, I uttered, “I’m sorry—for hurting you with magic. I only wished to get out of here. I never intended to hurt you.”

  Stillness followed. I started to think she’d already left, but then she said, “I know.” I heard the door shut.

  I sighed and burrowed deeper into the blankets.

  I started to feel weak as the days rolled by, but I couldn’t bring myself to eat. I didn’t want to live. My life was meaningless. I was the forgotten princess in the tower. I had no hope of ever seeing the sun again. My mother was dead, my sister feared me, and my father wanted to forget my existence. I had no reason to go on.

  “Let’s get you into some fresh clothing,” Aslaug said, pulling a loose fitting gown out of my wardrobe.

  “Aren’t you afraid of me?” I wondered out loud as she pulled me to my feet so she could untie the wrinkled gown I’d worn for at least three days. “I almost killed you.”

  She slipped the garment off and held the clean one for me to step into. “I—uh…” she started. “It’s hard to be afraid of someone who doesn’t have the will to live.”

  I laid back down on the bed. “You should leave me to die.”

  “Don’t say such things, my lady.” Her kindness would have broken my heart if it weren’t already smashed to pieces.

  Aslaug brought a piece of cake to me. I turned my head away.

  “Please,” she begged. “Please, eat. You will die if you don’t eat something. You’re wasting away.”

  “I don’t care. Leave me alone.” I knew what I was doing. The thought of death brought me peace. I wanted to be free from this life.

  She slammed the cake down on the bedside table, tears turning the whites of her eyes pink. She stifled a sob and rushed from the chamber.

  I wished she’d stop trying. She only made this harder for the both of us. I’d made up my mind. I was ready to die.

  Until the night I heard my mother’s soft whispered voice.

  I rolled over. A shaft of moonlight streamed in through the tiny window. And in that beam of
silver light, an image of my mother flickered to life. Not life, I realized, she was a ghost. I could see through her snow white skin.

  “Auralina, my sweet,” her hushed voice swept across the chamber. “You must live.”

  “But—but I don’t want to. I want to be with you. No one wants me here. Please take me with you,” I cried.

  My mother’s ghost drifted closer. She put her hand to my head, as if to stroke my hair, but I couldn’t feel her touch. I only felt a chill as she looked down at me. “I know it’s tough, my darling princess. And you will join me someday. But it’s not time. I don’t want you to die like this.”

  I gulped. “But, Mother…”

  “Shh. Promise me.”

  I didn’t want to promise her, but her image was already fading, becoming thinner and thinner. “All right, I promise. Please don’t go. Not yet.”

  She smiled sadly. “I can’t stay. You will be free again. Have faith.”

  I wanted to ask what she meant, but she disappeared before I could utter another word.

  Live. My mother wanted me to live. For her, I’d do it. I’d keep trying.

  I pulled myself up and reached for the water Aslaug had left beside my bed. I gulped back the liquid, emptying the cup.

  When the sun rose, and Aslaug returned with a plate of cheese and salted meat, I ate.

  Chapter 9

  I never told Aslaug about my experience with my dead mother. It was too sacred to share with anyone, and I wasn’t convinced she’d believe me.

  Time went on. Aslaug became more comfortable around me. I didn’t try using my magic again. I didn’t see the point. I taught my handmaid to play chess so I’d have an opponent to play with. In her absence, I read. She brought me new books whenever I requested more. She ensured my chambers and I were kept clean, and she always brought me paint whenever I ran out of certain colours.

  Various scenes of winter and watchful animals now decorated my walls.

  The days and nights blended together. Time means nothing when one is locked inside a tower for the rest of their life.