by Stock, L. J.
From The Shadows
Book 2 in the Mortisalian Saga
L.J. Stock
Contents
Acknowledgments
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Glossary
Playlist
About the Author
Also by L.J. Stock
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced without written consent from the author, except that of small quotations used in critical reviews and promotions via blogs.
Parallel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
FROM THE SHADOWS ©2017 L.J. Stock
Cover Illustration Copyright © 2017 Pexels.com, Dollarphotoclub.com
Cover design by L.J. Stock, LJDesigns
Book design by LJDesigns
Editing by Heather Ross of Heather's Red Pen Editing Services, Victoria L. James, Katleen Lamour.
Chapter Illustrations ©2016 L.J. Stock, LJDesigns
Promotions: Wendy Shatwell & Claire Allmendinger of Bare Naked Words www.barenakedwords.co.uk
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Acknowledgments
I have so many amazing people in my life that I want to thank when it comes to this series. It’s been such a labor of love, and there have been some amazing people who have held my hand and kicked my butt along the way.
My big sister Rachael, you have always been such a huge inspiration to me. You never do anything in halves, you never let the people you love fail and you always have your pom poms at the ready. You are selfless and encouraging, and no matter where we are in our lives, I always know I have you at my back, and I hope you know the same goes without question in reverse.
H.A. Robinson, Bob, you are the jerk to my bitch, the doctor to my companion, the sir Didymus to my Ambrosius. I remember the first time I spoke to you almost ten years ago. You were relentlessly nagging me for another chapter, and through one short conversation our friendship blossomed. We’ve had ups and downs and experienced some crazy shit over the years, but I wouldn’t know what to do without you in my life. Thank you for your encouragement and your mad editing skills, and for every time you’ve put a pen and paper in front of me when I’m feeling completely loopy. You’re a wizard H.A.R.ry :P
To Victoria L. James, you are the Fred to my Wilma, the Drew to my Ayda, the Moffy to my Ethan, and the Shaggy to my Scooby! Who knew that the honor of you inviting me into your amazing little group would lead us here. You cheer me on every chance you get, you encourage me when I’m down and you drag me into the light when I revert to the shadows. I don’t know what I would do without you. Thank you for your friendship, for your time when you spend hours editing my work and for every pep talk you’ve given me when I really needed it.
Charlie M. Matthews… I can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done for me. You make me smile even when I’m not sure it’s possible, our conversations never fail to keep me entertained and your running dialogue while reading this book did more than you will ever know. Thank you for being you, never change.
Sue Hollingmode, your messages every morning brighten my day before it’s even started. You’re one of the most selfless people I know, you have a heart made of solid gold and you work tirelessly every single day to get our names out there. I’m not sure what good I did in the world to be rewarded with your friendship, but I am so glad to have you in my life.
Kristina Hanicar, you are amazing. I don’t know how long you spend putting your posts together, but they’re always so amazing and you’re always so generous with your time. Every day you’re out there sharing and posting and just being your amazing self and I honestly don’t know how to thank you for that!
Katleen Lamour, thank you for your intricate eyes and attention to detail. I have learned so much from you over the years.
Amy Trevathan and Francesca Marlow, your support means so much This wouldn’t be a complete acknowledgement without thanking y’all.
To Wendy and Claire at Bare Naked Words. You ladies are amazing and I can’t thank you enough for all the hard work you put into helping the authors you have pulled under your wings. You work so hard and tirelessly and I appreciate everything you have done for me over the past (almost) three years. Your support means so much.
To my family, to my dad, step-mom, sisters, brothers, sisters in law, brothers in law and nieces and nephews. Thank you for being my heart and soul. For loving me in every level of my weirdness and always, always supporting me. I love you all with all of my heart and every fiber of my being. I know just how lucky I am to have you in my life.
To my mum, who always told me I could do whatever I dreamed while she was still here, and being the angel on my shoulder when she left us. There’s not a day I don’t miss you.
Finally, to you, the reader. Thank you for taking a chance on me and my words, for supporting any writer who has laid their soul down on the page and sent it out into the world to be consumed, masticated and consumed. You have no idea how much I appreciate you, but know that from the bottom of my heart, I thank you for reading.
Dedication
Breyanne Osborne
The real life Shannon.
Thank you for your phenomenal friendship, and for
adding words like shitass to my vocabulary.
I heart you hard!
Chapter One
My feet hit the ground in a rhythm I’d grown accustomed to, the repetition of each step driving me forward, encouraging me to take the next. One foot in front of the other, and again, pushing until my calves ached and my breaths came in short, painful spurts. I loved the feel of my muscles stretching as I pounded the path and carried myself forward. Even the heavier accompanying steps of Rasmus didn’t deter me from my focus when I was in my own headspace. Nothing existed around me when I hit the zone like this, and it was the very reason why running had become one of my favorite past times in Mortisali.
There weren’t many people who understood my need to run every day, with the exception of maybe Damon and Rasmus. It was something I'd started with Zander when I first found out about my heritage as a vis liberi. Before I’d discovered who my real father was and started the formal teaching to become heir of Mortisali. Sadly, I hadn't been able to maintain that level of commitment to my running, and my daily schedule had fallen by the wayside in order to make room for the constant flux of meetings, preening and endless teaching.
I'd thankfully picked my daily runs up again after the attack on the palace at my accession. The exertion of the pounding force was a way to work out all of my guilt and frustrations without an audience and I refused to give it up after I found solace in it. Being chased by a horde of masked men wasn’t going to be my downfall ever again, and I was determined to at least ou
trun the bastards if I couldn’t fight them off. Six months of cross-country training through the wild terrain just beyond the grounds of the palace had made me stronger and more confident. My body moved without much effort now. I had also continued to work in the gym, as well as my combative and defensive training, with the new addition of swordsmanship, an exercise that did wonders for my shoulders and upper arms. My body was just as much of a weapon as the tools I used.
After my short-lived melee in the confined space of the cells with the Latros soldier on the night of the ball, I refused to be faced with a situation like that unprepared again. I had started a campaign to wear the king down and gain his approval for the additional training. Apparently, my father was a pushover, or unable to tell me no, anyway. It had taken the story of that night and three days of nagging to get the green light for training with swords, much to Damon's indignation.
Things had changed so much in the six months since the attack. It was evident in everything—and everyone—that surrounded me. A perfect example was the cameras that had been placed sporadically throughout the forest surrounding the palace and its grounds. The choice of position wasn't designed to watch me run, though it came in handy for that, too. The technology, which was too advanced for this world, was to stop another silent attack like the one that had come about on the night of the ball. The Regius Custos weren't going to be surprised again. They were sore enough about the first time, so the king had made an exception and asked Zander to find some discreet solar powered cameras that could feed back to the palace using as little electricity and alien technology as humanly possible.
All those little devices were well hidden up in the trees, camouflage paint included, but I knew they were there because I knew exactly what I was looking for. They'd been a large part of my life while I'd lived in the mental hospital my misguided but well-intending mom had put me in for protection.
I shook myself out of my thoughts and banked left along the path I'd worn into the undergrowth on the forest floor, picking up speed as I hit the decline on the other side. I could hear Rasmus' breathing becoming more labored as I pushed myself harder, trying to escape the thoughts that had haunted me. He was probably the fittest he'd ever been thanks to my new routine. Not that he would ever admit that.
Hopping over a small stream that led to the river about four miles to the south, I continued on my path through the forest. I was torturing myself today. I always did when Damon decided not to come with me. It wasn't often that he stayed back, even though his place as my personal guard had been given to Rasmus.
Damon and I had become inseparable after the revelation of his part in the prophecy. It had been hard for him not to take his role up as my guard again. I knew and understood that, as much as he respected Rasmus, he trusted my care to himself only. The battle of the accession had taught him that. He would always blame himself if something happened to me so he needed to be responsible for me. It wasn’t allowed, though. He was just as valuable as I was to the future. He still had his place in the Regius Custos to fill, of course, which had made the change much easier than it could have been.
The Regius Custos had taken on another dozen men to train now that the monarchy was beginning to fill out as a family again and there was a very real threat looming over us. A threat who had made his intentions clear now he’d figured out who and what I was. So, as promised, Damon was given the position of head trainer to the new recruits. He wasn't exactly happy about being taken out of the combative side of the guard. He’d never said so, but I knew him too well not to know. He was trying to protect me from the guilt I felt for putting him in that position to begin with, and his counter argument was that fate had picked him out for me and he couldn’t have been happier about it. Damon had loved his place in the guard. I knew that just as well as everyone who knew him.
The only thing Damon did complain about, with steely enthusiasm, was the fact that he now had a guard of his own. There were absolutely no loopholes on that rule, Alec had made sure of that. His protector, Aric, was a nice enough guy. He was quiet and stayed to himself, formal and a tough nut to crack. I wasn't as close to him as I was to Rasmus. He wasn’t my guard, but once I’d got past the stigma of Damon being his ward, he was fun to have around, especially when Melody was in the vicinity.
Aric and Melody had become close over the past six months. It was a natural progression considering the protocol we now had to strictly adhere to. We’d all spent a lot of time together. Melody and Rasmus were always with me, and because Damon was constantly by my side, Aric was also close by. This made it difficult for Damon and me to have any time alone, but both Rasmus and Aric had become masters of discretion and on occasion there was the illusion that Damon and I were completely alone.
“What lit a fire under you, Princess?” Rasmus called, panting, from behind me as I hurdled over a fallen tree and kept up the pace I was maintaining.
“What's the matter, old man? Going too fast for you?” I puffed out.
“Old man?” he panted from behind me.
“You called me Princess first.”
“That's because you are a princess.” He chuckled, speeding up so he was only a couple of strides behind me.
“Your wit astounds me, Ras, but,” I said, pausing as I ran wide around some saplings, “you can do better.”
“You really think so?” He tried to drag in another breath, but it was getting harder and he coughed to cover up the hitch in his breath. “You wanna talk about what's got you going this morning?”
“Nothing,” I breathed out as I descended another small bank in my path.
“You forget how well I know you. Gods, when you run like this, you're either running from a situation or you're running out your frustration and aggression. So which is it?”
I slowed to a walk in the basin at the bottom of the hump and put my hands on my hips, throwing my head back on my shoulders. Sometimes being this close to people was a real pain in the ass. They tended to pick up on habits and mannerisms and they knew the telltale signs of predictable behavior. Spending so much time with me, Ras was up on all things Cass. That being said, he was right. There was something on my mind—a couple of things if I was being honest.
The test village that the king’s smartest advisors and teachers, the Suasors, had determined would cover all bases for my new decree for bettering the villages and their ability to grow was one. The small dwelling and its people would be the guinea pigs for my big plans for change in Mortisali. I'd been visiting some of the villages since I had been crowned Princess. It was all part and parcel of my status in this new version of my life, and from the first time out of the gate, the quality of life of the villagers of the provinces had bothered me immensely. These denizens worked their fingers to the bone hour after hour, day after day, every week of the year only to be paid pennies in recompense. Their homes were more basic than I could ever comprehend, more a mud hut in most cases, and not one of these small towns had a waste system or fresh running water. It was like a third world country when I knew they had the means and limited technology to have what they needed to increase their quality of life. I'd come home and spoken to my father about a couple of plans I had to make changes for the people. I’d spent hours on my travels thinking it over. Making plans to look up what I could on the Internet when I visited the farmhouse. It wasn’t like I was lobbying for an industrial revolution, but I figured a little ingenuity wouldn’t go amiss.
After a little research of his own—and with protests from some of the Dux who counted on the control to get what they wanted—he'd agreed with my assessment and given me the project to master as my first official business as Princess. I'd done as much research on early water systems as I could in the more modern dimension, and then gone to his suasors so they could help me draw up a plan. We'd chosen a test village and started implementing the very rough plan I had conceived with some workmen and engineers from the court. It had been in use for at least two months, and I was due to visit the villa
ge and note my findings to report back to the court and my father. It was the first village trip Damon wouldn't be accompanying me on and though I’d never said it aloud, it made me nervous. I still didn’t know enough about this new world to avoid the landmines that constantly surrounded me and dictated my role as princess.
The other bane in my current happy existence was my upcoming birthday. Damon, the king and my mother had been avoiding me, and I knew that they were planning something big. I'd never really had a birthday acknowledged before, and I wasn’t enthused about starting now. My stepfather Robert had made it perfectly clear that he didn't think my birth was something worth celebrating.
“They're planning something for my birthday, aren't they? Don't say you don't know, Ras. The whole palace seems to be in on it.” I dropped my chin to my chest and eyed him speculatively, just waiting for the wriggle of discomfort that would eventually give him up.
“I am a mere servant to the realm, Your Highness. What would I know of such secret and delicate things?”
“Liar.” I groaned, smacking him gently in the arm.
Spinning on the balls of my feet, I pushed my hair from my face. Rasmus was good at his job and it demanded his discretion, so pursuing him with simple nagging was a waste of both our time. So I changed the subject instead.
“Do you have everything arranged for the visit to Dullhurt?”
“Of course. The king approved your request to travel by horseback rather than carriage. I think your persistence once again paid off, although you've been assigned another guard to ride on your left.”