The Chronicles of William Wilde Boxset 1

by Davis Ashura

  Serena quirked a grin. “You have many skills, but art isn’t one of them. I saw your doodles back at St. Francis, remember?”

  William’s smile faded. He, too, recalled their shared history . . . and the lies underneath it all.

  Serena must have recognized her mistake because she filled the intervening silence with a rush of words. “My elven Memory was also a little girl, but she had this overwhelming depth of sorrow. Being around her was depressing. What about yours?”

  William focused on her words and tried not to dwell on their past. He and Serena had two days and nights alone to get back to Lilith, and he didn’t want it filled with a tense silence.

  “Mine was a young woman, but yeah, she was depressing,” William said. “In a lot of ways I’m glad I had the dwarven Memory at the end, with their peace and everything.”

  “Peace,” Serena murmured, sounding wistful.

  William eyed her in curiosity. “Haven’t you ever had peace?”

  “Sometimes,” Serena said. “When I hum “Gloria” it’s because I keep hoping God will touch me with His grace and teach me how to wash away my sins.”

  William stared at her in surprise. Earlier, she’d had an emotional outburst and now she was openly expressing religious sentiments. From her, both were as rare as a solar eclipse.

  “It’s all a fiction, though, isn’t it?” Serena asked. “Grace and peace.”

  “Not the way I was raised,” William said. “But you know what some people say about sin, right?”

  Serena glanced his way, brows lifted in question.

  “You have to acknowledge it.”

  Serena shook her head. “No thanks.” She faced forward and quickened her pace until she was several yards ahead of him.

  William let her go and mentally shook his head. Her attitude toward apologizing was unsurprising.

  Hours later, with sunset looming, they called a halt to the day’s hike.

  Serena set up their tents while William collected firewood. He could have sourced his lorethasra for the fire, but sometimes he liked doing things by hand.

  Afterward, they heated a stew that Mrs. Karllson had left with Serena and settled in for the night. William didn’t feel like talking, and he lay down on his sleeping bag, staring at the night sky and the majesty of the Milky Way. His thoughts returned to Galse.

  “I’m sorry,” Serena said.

  William started. He'd been so caught up in his thoughts that he'd forgotten she was there. He faced her with a questioning expression, unsure why she was apologizing.

  “I’m sorry for what I did to you and Jake,” Serena said, “for everything I put you through. I did it to save my sister, but I should have found a better way for all of us.”

  William eyed her in shock. Three times today she’d surprised him, and this was the most stunning of all. He didn’t know what to say.

  “I wish I could go back and . . .” Her lips thinned and regret filled her features. “I wish I could change a lot of things.”

  William cleared his throat, searching for an answer to her unexpected words. “Thank you. I know how hard that must have been for you to say.” He cringed at how empty his words sounded, but he had nothing else to offer her.

  She stared at him for a moment before her face fell into a sad half-smile. “Maybe that’s the best I can hope for.”

  Serena gazed in wonder at Lilith Bay and its many blue hues. She’d seen these waters nearly every day for the past four months, but the colors always changed. Aqua one moment, palest sky the next, and then the pure blue of a mountain lake. The only one absent was the indigo shade of the Norwegian Sea around Sinskrill, but Serena didn’t mind. The ocean here held the same unchained recklessness, the same salty scent of freedom, and the same wild wind full of untapped promise and peril.

  “Are you certain you wish to try this?” asked Jean-Paul Bernard, a flamboyant Frenchman who’d agreed to teach her to surf.

  On many occasions Serena had seen Jean-Paul striding the Main Stairs with a surfboard tucked under an arm, and she’d wondered what it must be like to ride the water as he did. Before her pilgrimage to the Memories she had settled for imagining, since she’d been too apprehensive to ask if he’d teach her. What if he said no?

  Her anxiety slowly faded after her time amongst the Memories, and four weeks after returning to Lilith she’d finally worked up the courage to ask Jean-Paul to teach her to surf. He’d surprised her by readily agreeing.

  Somehow, William or Jason must have caught wind of what the Frenchman had offered because both of them stood nearby as well. They wore boardshorts, green for William and blue for Jason, and a pair of surfboards stood propped in the sand next to them.

  Serena frowned at their presence. She didn’t want them here. Ever since she’d apologized to William they’d reached a détente of sorts, but it still felt like they circled one another like cats who’d never met before and were unsure if the other could be trusted.

  Not Jason, though. He remained as snarky and insufferable as always.

  Plus, their presence had stirred an unexpected sense of modesty within Serena. While both had seen her in far less during their time with Mr. Bill’s Circus—the ridiculous, bosom-bearing outfit designed by Jane, the seamstress—Serena felt exposed in the one-piece, lavender swimsuit she wore.

  “First, a lesson about our equipment,” Jean-Paul said. He wore black boardshorts and had brought down two surfboards, one a flaming red and the other a creamy yellow. “A surfer must always know his board. Ours are made of wood, not fiberglass like they use in the Far Beyond nowadays. But we’ve got magic, and our wooden boards are every bit as light and water-proof as fiberglass.” He grinned. “It is a nice advantage, non?”

  He indicated for Serena to test the yellow board, and she immediately noticed its lack of heft. When she peered more deeply for the cause, she saw braids of Air and Earth woven into the material to lighten and strengthen it.

  “Now, about surfing,” Jean-Paul continued. “It is not simply paddling and riding." He flapped his arms about. "It is much more. You must feel the water. Balance upon it like you would your lover.” He made some swaying, dancing motions with his arms and odder ones with his pelvis.

  Serena chuckled while William and Jason choked back laughter.

  “It is true,” Jean-Paul insisted. “You may not understand right now because you are mahavans and Americans. All three of you are uptight. You must learn to relax and laugh. Oui. You must learn to laugh without reservation.”

  Jean-Paul’s words resonated, and Serena’s humor slipped away. Live life fully. Laugh without reservation. Both were fantasies she’d always dreamt of.

  “Are we going to surf or talk philosophy?” Jason asked.

  “Surfing is philosophy,” Jean-Paul replied.

  Jason rolled his eyes. “Trust a Frenchman to make everything overly complicated,” he said to William. “It’s like this. You paddle out past where the waves are curling. You wait, and when you see one breaking, you paddle flat out. When the wave reaches you, you jump on your board and ride.” He snapped his fingers. “Simple as that.”

  “Simple as that,” Jean-Paul mocked with an answering, mocking snap of his fingers. “Americans. Surfing is not a recipe, something with a gram of this and a gram of that. It is art.” He focused his attention on Serena. “Do not listen to Jason’s reductionist nonsense. Are you ready to live?”

  Serena started. For her, Jean-Paul’s question held shades of deeper meaning, hues about who she really was and wanted to be. Could she rise to the light? A sense of something profound filled the air, and Serena scrutinized the world around her, wanting to freeze the moment in her memory.

  They stood upon the golden beach of Lilith Bay with the village’s escarpment looming behind them. It ran east-to-west. The sand was warm and fine under the early afternoon sun, and the aqua water lapped an insistent melody against the shore. A few of Arylyn’s sailboats cut through the deeper waters of the Pacific.


  Nervous energy made Serena bounce on her toes. “Absolutely.” Live life fully. Laugh without reservation.

  “Then let us teach you of life’s joy,” Jean-Paul said with a broad grin as his white teeth flashed.

  They spent the rest of the afternoon on the water, and surprisingly, even Jason offered Serena advice every now and then. His guidance proved helpful even if he provided it in a snarky tone. However, for the most part Jason and William kept to themselves while Jean-Paul worked with Serena.

  Her first time out on the water didn’t go well. Neither did her second through twentieth attempts. Eventually, though, she learned to prone—her belly flat to the board—and once she managed to do so, Serena desperately wanted more. She lost track of the number of times she wiped out, but toward the end of the evening she stood up and rode a wave.

  The board shifted and slid under her, but she kept her balance.

  The sound of the surf grew distant. Tiny rainbows sparkled in the waves, and the water lapped against her feet. The sky wore shades of reds, blues, and purples under the last rays of the sun, and the briny ocean became a baptismal pool. A moment of purity. It left Serena with a peace she’d never before experienced. Not in Meldencreche, or even when sailing Blue Sky Dreams. She wanted it to last forever, and for a moment, it did.

  Serena smiled even when she fell off her board.

  Afterward, Jean-Paul embraced her, and she laughed with joy.

  “I usually surf every morning,” he said. “You must come with me and let me teach you. Everyday, we will come to this kiddie pool. Then, when you are ready, we will take you to where the adults play.” He leered and wiggled his thick eyebrows suggestively. “Of course, I can show where some adults might like to play other games, but perhaps this first, non?”

  They finished up a few minutes later, and by then the sun had set and the sky darkened. They hiked toward the Main Stairs with Jean-Paul and Jason in the lead and Serena and William following.

  Stars gleamed, seemingly reflected in the scattering of lights illuminating the village, as a crescent moon hung high above. The trade wind carried the fragrance of brine mixed with a cold mineral smell as they crossed the Guanyin, a bridge made of reflective, silver-hued stones that spanned River Namaste where the cascades collected halfway down Lilith’s cliffs. From here, the waters swept north through a high-walled canyon decorated with titanic statues of Arylyn’s ancient heroes.

  The wind chilled Serena’s salty-wet skin, but she didn’t mind. She smiled, and for the first time in forever she hummed “Gloria.”

  “I’ve never seen you smile before,” William said to her.

  Serena frowned in uncertainty, not sure what he meant. “You’ve seen me smile plenty of times.”

  “The others were playacting,” William said, “This one is real.”

  “It wasn’t all lies,” she told him. “You made me smile or laugh lots of times.”

  William shrugged. “Maybe, but I’m glad to see you smile now.”

  “I have a reason to smile.”

  The next day Serena continued to thrill in the memory of surfing for the first time. She smiled for no reason, and rather than still her emotions as she would have on Sinskrill, she let them run free.

  Selene noticed. “You look silly, smiling like that,” she said.

  Serena rubbed her sister’s hair affectionately. “You know Jake returns today, right? I imagine you’ll look every bit as silly when you see him.”

  Selene’s eyes widened in surprised joy, and she promptly broke into a broad grin.

  Serena laughed. “See what I mean? Every bit as silly, and he isn’t even here yet.”

  Selene stuck out her tongue.

  Serena chuckled, and they continued their way up the Main Stairs of Cliff Spirit.

  “William wasn’t as angry with you today,” Selene noted when they reached Clifftop.

  “I apologized to him,” Serena said.

  “For what?”

  “For what I did that made him angry with me,” Serena said, not wanting to explain all the details of how she’d hurt William. She feared Selene’s reaction when she learned the truth.

  “What did you do?” Selene asked.

  “None of your business,” Serena said, running her finger over Selene’s nose. “We’re here.”

  Selene became crestfallen. “School,” she said, her tone despondent.

  “After classes, we can hike through Janaki Valley if you want,” Serena offered.

  “Promise?”

  “Promise.”

  Selene’s face brightened. “See you later,” she called out as she trotted into a three-story building facing the Village Green and serving as the island’s school.

  From there Serena headed toward the enrune fields.

  She paused when she spied Deidre Mason, a blacksmith with whom she hoped to apprentice. It only seemed natural given Serena’s talents were in Fire and Earth.

  “Pardon me, Mrs. Mason,” Serena said with a smile as she stepped in front of Deidre. “Have you had time to give thought to my request?”

  Deidre pulled up short and appeared startled. “Serena. I was meaning to talk to you,” the other woman said. “I’m afraid I can’t take you on as an apprentice right now.” She hesitated. “It’s not because I don’t want to, but because of your reputation.”

  Serena’s good mood faded along with her smile. “You mean because I was a mahavan.”

  Deidre grew flustered. “They say you kidnapped the new raha’asras, allowed them to be tortured. Some promise not to barter with me if I take you on. You understand.”

  Serena managed a courteous nod even while she seethed. “I understand.”

  She pressed past Deidre, leaning on her mahavan training and making her face flat and unreadable. While she walked on toward the enrune fields, she couldn’t determine with whom she was the angriest: the people of Lilith or with herself. Why did she keep letting her hopes rise only to see them dashed?

  Serena reached the enrune fields, and her mind still roiled with anger and frustration.

  Several games were underway, and players called out to one another. Threads of Air, Earth, Fire, and Water filled the grounds—pulsing, rustling, crackling, and rushing in riotous energy.

  Lien was also there. She sat on a bench in the warm sunshine while a quarter-mile behind her, River Namaste rushed and curled toward the escarpment’s edge. The shadow of Lakshman’s Bow fell over the water.

  “I wasn’t sure you’d show up,” Lien said when Serena arrived.

  “I had to drop Selene off at school first,” Serena replied, her voice flat and unreadable.

  Lien took in Serena’s features. “Should I ask what happened?” she asked after a moment of consideration.

  “I’d prefer if you didn’t,” Serena said, sourness tinging her tone.

  Lien appeared to study her a moment longer before she shrugged and reached into a bag set by her feet. She withdrew an enrune glove—similar to a tan, baseball mitt—and surprised Serena by offering it to her. “You’re always borrowing someone else’s,” Lien said. “I thought you might like having your own.”

  Serena turned the glove in her hands before slipping it on. It fit perfectly, and flexed and opened with only the barest of resistance. Serena blinked back tears and grew freshly annoyed with herself. One present and suddenly she was an emotional idiot.

  Lien noticed. “It’s only a glove,” she said, sounding bemused.

  “I know, but it means a lot to me and . . .” Serena halted and took a deep breath to settle her feelings. Serena did her best to set aside the recent conversation with Deidre Mason and focus instead on the joy of surfing, and Lien’s kindness. Maybe there was hope for her here after all. “Thank you,” she said. “Let’s play some enrune.”

  Lien grinned. “Your first real game. No more practicing. Don’t let me down. I hate losing.”

  “We won’t lose,” Serena said. “I have a good feeling about today.”

  After a f
ew minutes, enough players to showed up for a new game to get underway.

  Serena played defense, right-back safety. Two others stood nearby, the center-back safety and the left-back safety. Along with the goalie, they patrolled the area in front of the full goal.

  One of the halfbacks—someone who played both offense and defense—signaled the game’s start with a shout.

  The woda shot down the pitch. It shifted in midair, and an opposing forward snatched it in her glove. She raced downfield. Lien, a halfback, attempted to strip the woda, but an opposition forward pushed her aside.

  The forward with the woda kept churning down the field. She bypassed the half goal. Serena moved to intercept. She smelled ivy and heard the rustling of Earth. A braid meant to trip. Serena leapt over it. She sourced her lorethasra, and the oncoming forward dropped the woda with a shouted curse. Serena smiled. She’d snapped the girl’s wrist with a whiplash of Air. Not entirely legal, but no one had ever told her it was illegal.

  One of the other halfbacks on Serena’s team picked up the woda and raced off in the other direction. Serena wanted to move upfield with the members of offense, but she held her position. She was expected to defend.

  The woda flitted about from one player to another, racing along the ground and flicking through the air. It twisted, changing directions at odd angles as braids shifted its motion.

  Lien scored a full goal and Serena whooped. Maybe this was what William felt like when playing football.

  The game continued, and the opposition team attacked the half goal. Serena edged forward to help.

  “Hold your line,” her center-back yelled. “It’s a feint.”

  Serena disregarded her teammate’s advice and continued to drift upfield. The woda shot overhead, and she cursed. An opposition forward, already at full speed, raced past her. A sulfur stench and a crackling noise sounded. A braid of Fire. Serena tried to slow. Too late! A stab of heat flicked at her feet.