Witherstone- Wings of My Legion

by Elizabeth Holland

  After they settled, I looked over to Lucas. He wasn’t as afraid as before, though I could still see the uncertainty in his eyes. Now, however, he was intrigued. He probably hadn’t experienced magic like this before. At best, Caleb could move the earth and manipulate all forms of stone and rock, but I knew Caleb wasn’t the type to go putting on shows. He probably hadn’t really demonstrated his abilities in front of Lucas. I hadn’t really ever seen him use his magic myself.

  “What’d you think?” I went up to Lucas with an eager smile.

  He tried to hide the smile on his face, but he couldn’t. “Okay, that was pretty cool.”

  “Right?” I laughed. “I know it’s tremendous, monumental. But it’s something that should already be a part of you.”

  Lucas breathed out and uncrossed his arms. “I want to do it for her, but how do I know it’s the right thing for me?”

  I raised my brow and bit the inside of my cheek. “I don’t really know how to answer that.”

  “What if I end up with an element I don’t want?” he leaned close to me and whispered, his eyes flicking up to the house. I turned to see what he was looking at and saw Elliot standing on the other side of the door. I faced Lucas, wanting to comfort him, but his unrest was clearly too strong for me to console with words alone. I lifted my hands, nearing him to blanket his stress in that pure white comfort I had grown to love, when he stepped back and shrugged.

  “If I’m going to do this, I need to be present. I won’t numb it away,” he shook his head. “It’s all or nothing. For us both.”

  “But, Lucas—”

  “She wants this, and I want it for her,” he drew in a sharp breath, “but she needs to know what it means. Our ancestor, whomever that was, gave this up for a reason. It’s not ukuleles and skittles, Irene, it’s life and death.”

  As ridiculous as it was, he couldn’t have been more right. I wanted to take the pain away, just like Caleb had done for me. Lucas, though, was having none of it. The idea that he was willing to feel it all made me a little nervous. What side of him was this? What dark justification was it for him to both be terrified of the pain and embrace it equally? And if this was a hint to what kind of enchanter he’d become, what did it say for Scarlet? As twins they were, by nature’s laws, balanced. They would be each other’s opposite. I was starting to get excited by the possibilities.

  “We’re waiting for Iliana to arrive,” my aunt told me when I came back inside. “Tristan is on his way too.”

  I took a deep breath as everyone turned to see Scarlet coming down the stairs. It was obvious she had cried. Lucas, sitting on the couch, spoke to his sister without looking up at her. Hunched over his knees with his eyes on the floor, he said, “I’m agreeing to this for you. Not because of mom, not for my own interest. Just for you.” Getting to his feet, Lucas sighed before looking to Scarlet. “I want you to be happy, I do. But I hope you know what this means.”

  “Do you?” she asked him with a little break in her voice. “Is there something you know that I don’t?” Lucas was silent. “Because in all those journals, everything sounded amazing. It’s a life we should already have. Why do you despise it so much?”

  Lucas drove his hands into his pockets like before, but this time, his shoulders rose tall and his back went rigid. “Because it killed our mother,” solemnly told.

  “No, it didn’t,” Scarlet fussed with a know-it-all, crude smile. “We did. You and I, Lucas,” she pointed her finger to his chest. “We took every bit of her living energy and it killed her,” Scarlet’s eyes glossed over now as she spoke through her teeth. “There wasn’t anything magical about it.”

  “Then I know something you don’t,” he let down his guard in exchange for sympathy. “She renounced her magic for us,” he told Scarlet, and, subsequently, the rest of us in the room. “The book you’re reading was hers, not Linden’s.”

  “But, it has his initials,” she went over to her bag near the bottom step and pulled the book out. “See,” she showed us all the page. “Right here.”

  I was as confused as she. Our conclusion, that the book had come from her ancestor, made the most sense. I was more eager than ever to hear why Lucas thought otherwise. Sitting on the couch next to Elliot, I leaned back and got comfortable. I mean, I was about ready to make popcorn. It was going to be an eventful, interesting day.

  “They had the same initials, Scarlet,” Lucas said with his eyes to the ground. “You’ve been so obsessed with this,” he complained, wholeheartedly no less, as he took the book from her hands. “You haven’t been eating, I know you stay up all night researching.”

  “It’s not like I can just google it,” she shrugged off his words.

  “But you don’t need to figure it out in one night,” he pleaded with her, the strain in his voice clearly evident. “We can learn about this stuff together. When we’re ready.”

  “Not really,” Charlotte piped in. Lucas shot her a glare, but probably because he didn’t realize his private conversation was anything but. “We need you guys for the quelling. Or the whole thing will fail.”

  “Did you know about this?” he quizzed Scarlet.

  “I just found out,” she lowered her head.

  Lucas looked like he wanted to throw his arms up in the air and give up.

  “How can you be sure it was her book?” Scarlet looked up with a curious, innocent look in her eyes. “Initials aren’t concrete proof.” I felt terrible for Scarlet as she sat there curled up tight with her knees to her chest, her voice a ghostly presence of its former self.

  “Dad finally told me about her,” he explained. Scarlet sat there looking as crushed as ever. “She renounced her magic when she was pregnant with us to keep us from this life.”

  “Why?” Scarlet’s plea hit me to my core. I got trembles listening to her and Lucas discuss their mother and the magic she once had. It was too familiar, too sad. “Why wouldn’t she want her magic? Why did it kill her?” Scarlet was nearly in tears by the time Lucas went to his knee and pulled her tight into his arms. I choked up a little thinking about how many times Dylan had done the same for me. And most of the time, it was just normal life stuff. Now, with all the magic we knew about, with the wild nature of dragons and the impressive power of enchanters, those hugs were ever-more meaningful.

  “I’m going to make some tea,” my aunt got up from her chair and I stood up to join her.

  “And coffee too please,” I said fast, to the disapproving snarl of my Lord. “I know, caffeine and stuff,” I rolled my eyes as I pushed at his shoulder for a laugh. “I think she’s going to be fine with a little caffeine.”

  “Can you believe that?” Charlotte whispered in the kitchen as my aunt and I started the pots. I shook my head. “Why would she give up her magic before their birth?” my sister pried. I shook my head without a single idea as to why. Our aunt, however, seemed to have something to say, biting her lip while wincing with each word Charlotte added. “I mean, wouldn’t magic help you heal faster? Help the babies get stronger?” Finally, our aunt grabbed both our wrists and tugged us out back.

  “I don’t think granting them their powers is a wise idea,” she whispered.

  “Are you serious?” I crossed my arms tight. “After all this? And we just discovered that we actually need them to help in the quelling.”

  “I know, I know,” she hushed me. “But if Lily renounced her magic before the birth, then there must be a very good reason.”

  “And that is?” Charlotte leaned closer, her open gaze demanding an answer.

  Our aunt rolled her hands together and fidgeted for a second or two before speaking very quietly. “I think she feared what they’d become.”

  Oh, come on.

  “So she had to relinquish her own or they’d be born with magic in their veins,” my sister understood. “Do you think she knew what would happen to her?”

  “I bet she did,” I said without thought. “Such a selfless act.”

  “An act of grace,”
our aunt made clear. “Who are we to allow her final act as a loving mother be undone?”

  Charlotte and I had nothing to say to that. How could we truly? Scarlet was determined, and Lucas was basically saying go ahead. He wanted to wait a while, of course. Unfortunately, none of us had that luxury.

  “I guess she knew something we don’t,” I offered. “But Scarlet’s an adult now. And it’s her right to make this choice. Not ours.”

  Before we could give it much more thought, a commotion was happening in the front of the house. We three went back inside to see Iliana standing there on the other side of the door, directing some men to bring a box up the stairs. A giant box—a coffin.

  ABSOLUTE

  “What the hell, Iliana?” I raged toward her. “You brought him in a coffin?”

  “Chill, darling,” she spoke sarcastically. “I had nothing else. Besides, your mortals won’t think twice of it.”

  “It’s not like they’re going to be examining your car at every turn,” I shoved past her. I couldn’t wait to see Dylan, but with him lying in a coffin, his body motionless… well, that was just something I didn’t care to look upon.

  “Cressa, we can’t leave him outside,” my dad called back to my aunt as he rushed up toward the door in front of me. Elliot was right behind him in seconds. The men who were bringing up my brother were all dressed in dark blue jackets and blue-gray jeans. They all looked the same; same haircut, same strong jawline. Dragons by birth, these men were all six feet tall and broad-shouldered.

  “The bedroom upstairs,” my aunt offered.

  “We can’t carry it up those little stairs,” Julian said from behind me. “How about that room around the corner?” he glanced over to Dylan’s old room where my aunt, Lydia, and I had put him and Dylan after drugging them with hawthorn. When he faced forward, looking down over me momentarily with narrowing eyes, I got a sudden ripple of chills.

  “That thing’s not going to fit through the door,” Charlotte pursed over by the bookshelf.

  “That’s what I was thinking,” Iliana, with her arms crossed, shook her head.

  Elliot stepped up past us all and went out to the porch where the men had set down the coffin. He addressed the men—the guards of his home—and thanked them. Then he asked them to leave. Motioning for Julian, Elliot squatted down and unlatched the coffin, slowly opening it for us all to see. At first, I hid behind my dad. Dylan meant the world to me; he was my protector, my guardian. I didn’t want to see him lying in a coffin, it was too real. Even if he wasn’t actually gone, even though he looked perfectly healthy and warm. I had to remind myself of this, of his wellness. He was only sleeping.

  Julian and Elliot lifted my brother in their arms and brought him through the door as we all moved aside. My dad guided them through the house, leading the way through the living room. Down the hall, they carried my brother into his old room and away from sight. I stood near the bookshelf and thought about going into the room to see him, to maybe communicate with him like I had in my dream. Maybe he wouldn’t feel trapped in the Manor House now that he was out of Frostmoor entirely. I fidgeted with my thoughts, recalling that dream, as my dad came by and tapped me on the shoulder. Now, I took a step forward, walking right into Julian. With a smile, a soft, sympathetic smile, he passed on by. Now, as I stepped through the hall, Elliot came out of the room and closed the door.

  “I feel so responsible,” I muttered in that small space. My aunt had put a little table at the end of the hall. There was a small, glass lamp that barely lit half of the hallway. Toward the kitchen was the other bedroom, my aunt’s room. My mother had that room years ago, and even though it was always hard for me to go inside after her death, my aunt slept in there every night. Charlotte and I had the upstairs rooms, of course. We shared the bathroom up there too. On the opposite side of the kitchen sat a bathroom that my aunt and Dylan sort of shared. It wasn’t long until he moved out, though.

  “This wasn’t your fault,” Elliot declared, taking me into his arms. I just slouched in, leaned into him, collapsed there in his embrace.

  Moaning, I whispered, “I missed this.”

  “What?” he brushed my hair back from my eyes as I looked up to him.

  “You holding me,” I replied. “Feeling safe. Protected.”

  He grinned, those irresistible lips of his turning upward to reveal a dimple. “I’ll always protect you.”

  I wanted to kiss him so badly. I wanted to be alone with him. But our baby kicked me, hard this time, and I flinched back catching Elliot’s watchful, curious eyes.

  “It’s okay,” I told, but she kicked again. I winced in pain—a strange pain that I didn’t expect—covering my belly with my hands. “Maybe it isn’t,” I mumbled.

  “Come on,” he ushered me down the hall and to the table. The last thing I wanted was the attention of everyone as they gawked over me with their questions and concerns. And thankfully, that didn’t happen. I looked around the room as Elliot got me into a chair. Everyone was outside. It sounded like they were laughing, talking, mingling.

  “What’s going on?” I asked, again wincing in pain.

  Elliot, at the faucet for some water, turned to see the front yard through the open door. “Your Prince is here,” he said plainly.

  “He isn’t my Prince,” I rolled my eyes.

  “Oh, and the King, too,” Elliot informed as he brought the water to the table.

  I almost jumped out of the chair to see if Elliot was right. But my Lord, quick and strong, pushed me back down and told me to sit.

  “We need to get you to Frostmoor,” he sat in the chair adjacent to me. “She’ll be here soon,” he spoke as he glanced over my belly.

  “I still have time,” I shook my head. She was coming fast enough, no reason to speed it up.

  “You’re having early contractions,” he said. “She’s almost ready.”

  “Sanne told me—”

  “The only enchantress I would trust right now is your aunt,” he informed. “Sanne might have given you a prophecy, but they’re never absolute.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Prophecies are glimpses into a possible future that is dependent upon the current circumstances.” Elliot took a glance at the front door again, and then his eyes traveled over the baby. “Sanne’s prophecy… it might not have had me as the father.”

  That thought had once crossed my mind.

  “I can’t just run off and leave Dylan, though. He just got here.”

  “Irene, by the time we get to Frostmoor—if we leave tonight—you’ll have days maybe until delivery.”

  Okay, nope, not ready for that.

  I felt my head spin. Luckily, the pain had subsided. My daughter’s presence wasn’t only affecting me, though. With another look to the front yard, I could see the sky was darker, the winds were heavier. And there were Tristan and Lorcan, staring back at me like they were uncertain of their safety.

  I clamped onto Elliot’s hand and didn’t let go. “I can’t do this,” I panicked, whispering into the stilled air of the kitchen. “I’m not ready,” I shook my head and kept refusing.

  “Irene,” he said my name with force. “You’re strong enough for this. Don’t be afraid, I won’t leave your side. Not even if you tell me to,” he laughed to himself.

  Finding strength in his words, I agreed. He took my hand to his smiling lips and kissed it slowly as the others came up through the front door. I would have bowed to Lorcan, but Elliot wasn’t going to let me out of the chair just yet. Surprisingly, though, he stood and approached the faerie with his hand out. A solid, respectful handshake was all the room needed in order to relax.

  “Well, you must have some wine around here somewhere, right?” Iliana popped up from the couch with her typical demanding glare.

  “Yes, yes,” my aunt agreed. “And I’ll make some food and we can all talk.”

  The house was packed tighter than I had ever seen it. Like one of those big holiday parties on tv, my childh
ood home was lively and bursting. People were laughing, exchanging knowledge about the elements, discussing the harvest season in each realm, and it was beautiful. My legion, comprised of the nearly twenty bodies within the house, stood united for a greater cause. The peace treaty we had signed was still binding, but something told me it was no longer needed.

  My aunt, gracious as ever, had crafted a feast for us all. Chicken, potatoes, a colorful salad, bread, and, of course, a cobbler of pomelucent berries. Charlotte, Lydia, and Scarlet had helped cook. I, however, was again under Elliot’s watchful eye.

  He didn’t let me up from the table for anything besides going to the bathroom. And after a couple of hours, I was getting restless. So, while he was one his second Allagash White, laughing to something Tristan had said—of all the things—I slipped past Lydia with my finger over my mouth, shushing my departure. She giggled a little, but kept quiet.

  Outside. Outside I could breathe. Don’t get me wrong, I was thrilled to have all these people near. I was thrilled at how willing they were to work together and make something good come from something so wrong. But I didn’t want to think about all of that stuff right then. I didn’t want to remember the darkness in Markus’ eyes, or the ominous threat that Dune somehow effortlessly embodied. I needed some peace.

  Over at the swing that hung between the backdoor and the garden, I sat down and breathed out a long exhale. The voices from inside were getting louder as everyone erupted in laughter. I could hear my dad’s voice over them all. Entertaining wasn’t something I expected from him, but there it was. And it made me smile.

  Swinging slowly, I could feel my daughter move around. She was calmer than earlier, but the sky was still darker than it should have been for that time of day. I could almost taste the rain in the breeze. It was coming, and it wouldn’t stop until her birth. I wondered if this was the cause of some unexplainable natural disasters. The birth of a magical being, something superior to our plane of existence. Were these babies causing hurricanes, massive fires, earthquakes? It wasn’t something I needed to understand, as much as I wanted to. My curiosity often got the best of me, but I had other things to consider now. I had my daughter. I had the legion. I had the quelling.