Aster Wood series Box Set

by J B Cantwell

  But he was right. She knew that, if he were to come to try to save her again, Master would attack. He would be relentless. He would try again and again until his enemy was dead.

  Her heart gave a tight, helpless squeeze within her chest.

  Aster. An enemy.

  It was a title he didn’t deserve. And though she knew that the chances of him escaping Master again were grim, the child in her still wished he would return. That he would somehow snatch her away and take her far from this place. Far from Master’s reach. Far from her home.

  As she made her way up the grand staircase, she withdrew completely. She knew what was waiting for her at the top. Her friend, another poor soul taken by the Corentin, lay dead in her chambers. She had killed Owyn, herself. Master had done it with her hands. It had been his mind behind the attack, but she felt a deep shame within her. The logic of knowing that she could not have stopped Owyn’s death did nothing to ease her guilt.

  Murderer.

  The voice that spoke this thought was not her own. It taunted her with the accusation, and she shrunk further away from the conscious world. She didn’t want to hear Master’s words. Didn’t want to face the truth of what she had let him do.

  So, as she stepped through the doorway, her toes gripping onto the tiny pieces of stone mosaic beneath her feet, she let herself slide all the way into blackness. She couldn’t face the scene in that room, couldn’t look into Owyn’s blank eyes again. It was Master’s mess. She would let him clean it.

  Hours later, or maybe it had been days, she stood at the window watching the giant men below. They moved through the city streets like pack mules, their cargo strapped to their backs, their footsteps slow and arduous. She wondered if they noticed the weight of the wooden boxes they carried, if their bodies felt pain as they hauled the treasure up the mountain and into her domain. Or if, like her, they were simply the Corentin’s tools, wooden and controlled, saved from the pain of exertion by the power that had invaded them.

  Inside her mind, she was only vaguely aware of speaking.

  “Bring them all in,” came her voice, raspy and harsh.

  The giant man who stood before her bowed. This one was smaller than the others, but seemed to be the spokesman of the strange folk who had come down from Mount Neri, the range that protected the Solitary village for more centuries than she could remember. Solitaries, they were called. She had feared them her whole life. But Aster had met them, befriended them despite the danger.

  Stone after stone, the Solitaries stacked the rocks along the edges of the room until every surface of the walls was covered by them. Once, when she and Aster were not yet separated, she had found a cavern full of precious stones like these. But unlike then, now she felt no joy in the collection here. These rocks were corrupted, brought here only to try to keep her controlled by her own desire to wield them.

  Each stone held a different sort of magic, and she alone had been the only one in thousands of years to possess the power to direct it. The last time anyone had held control over the elements of the land, he had driven himself mad with power, had knocked the delicate balance of the planets in the Fold so far out of line that it had allowed the evil of the Corentin to rise. Jared had been his name, and she silently cursed him now. In her veins his ancient blood flowed. He was her ancestor, and had no doubt passed down his magic to her. But whatever good he had once intended was just an echo within her now. He had been weak. He had fallen to the darkness.

  Just as she had.

  Master wanted her to be like Jared. He wanted her to become so mesmerized by her own power that she would forget the human things she cared about. That she would stop at nothing to get more. Master wouldn’t stop until Earth came crashing into the Triaden, bringing with it a wealth of gold for him to toy with, and destroying everything in its path.

  She stood in her stone prison, each individual rock calling out to her, begging her to use them for Master’s evil. She balled her hands up into tight fists, meaning to fight him, to refuse to use the stones for any purpose but her own. So much good could come of them if she could just break free from his hold.

  But though she fought, her hand sprung up before her, summoning the jadestone for which she was named. It flew through the air easily, landing in her hand with a smack as she caught it. Master held the stone up before her eyes, slowly rotating it so that she could see every beautiful detail, every crevice and gradation of color.

  She threw it. With terrible force, the stone burst into dust as it hit the granite walls. The mountain trembled from the blow, and she nearly lost her balance.

  Then another came. A red ruby the size of a grapefruit hovered before her, and she felt Master raise her hand to take the stone. Again, she threw it, obliterating it so that the bits rained down in a shower of sparkling red.

  Please don’t.

  Her chest hurt, was heaving with sobs. This was Master’s favorite game. He knew how it hurt her to destroy the stones, and yet he made her do it, time and again.

  Again and again the rocks flew to her outstretched hand, and again and again she destroyed them. Soon, the rock dust began to accumulate on the mosaic floor, gradually obscuring the image depicted there, of Jared as he had so recklessly called Earth into the Triaden.

  Stop. I can’t take any more.

  But he didn’t stop. Would never stop. Today’s shipment of precious gems was not the beginning, and was far from the end. Master would not stop his torture of her until every beautiful stone in the cosmos had been destroyed at her hands, until nothing but dust remained floating through black space. She wished for that day, for the time when nothing would be left. But in her heart, she knew that it would never come.

  She woke amidst the sand, piled high on the floor of her chamber, reflecting the last of the light of day in a thousand rainbows as it danced within each minuscule speck. She gripped at the rock dust with her fingers, tried to grasp a handful, but it was so fine that it slipped away like ashes in the wind. She cried as she took in the destruction. He had forced her to destroy every last one, every last bit of beauty that he had brought to her now lay decimated at her feet.

  As she slowly caught her breath, and the hiccuping that had started with her tears began to ease, she became aware of an unusual feeling. The gentle breeze coming in through the blown out window was dancing on the skin of her arms. And she could feel it.

  Something was different.

  What was it? She was still in the same place, hadn’t moved from where she had slumped as the last stone had exploded against the wall.

  It was the light, so bright that she had to shield her eyes from the glow coming off the sand. Suddenly she could see, so clearly, whereas before all had been night.

  And Master. Where had he gone? In the far reaches of her consciousness she could feel him still, hovering around the edges, but his hold on her felt weak. Distant.

  It took her a moment, marveling at the realization of her new freedom, before she sprang into action.

  I have to get out of here.

  She jumped to her feet, brushing the piles of rock dust from her long, emerald robes as she made for the door. But before she reached the handle, she stopped, dumbstruck at what she saw.

  Sitting before her, still on its perch of honor in the center of the room, was the large, gold stone.

  She quickly racked her mind. Had she not destroyed it? Every other stone in the room had been obliterated. Only this one, more valuable than all the others put together, remained. She stared at it, unsure of what to do.

  It’s a trick.

  It could be. Maybe it was some new form of torture that Master had come up with. Maybe he wanted to make her think it was over, that he was vanquished from her being, to give her false hope before he sprang another wicked trap. It could be that, once free of the mountain, he would simply take over again, mocking her for her foolish hope and stupidity.

  She focused on the edges of her being where she could feel him struggling to take hold of he
r once more. He was still there, fighting, but could not grasp her.

  For the first time in many long months a smile played around the edges of her mouth. In three long strides she made it to the gold, lifting it with her mind and taking it into her outstretched hands. It burned against her skin, but just barely. She was instantly flooded with pleasure at its touch, and for a moment she hesitated.

  Up until now, any time she got close to the gold she had started to lose control of herself, of resistance to Master’s desire to hurt those around her. But now she could barely feel its energy at all. The power of the gold, and its connection to her soul, seemed to have diminished.

  He’s not doing this.

  She dropped the heavy stone into her pocket, keeping one hand glued to it, just in case. Turning, she ran for the door, praying that she would find escape before the Corentin was able to sink his teeth into her again. She had to get to the Kinstone.

  The Kinstone was a link of incalculable wealth, passed down generation after generation until it finally had come to be hers. It would take her anywhere she desired, opening a portal to any planet she could imagine with only the slightest command. Being the last in her family line, she was the only one in the entire cosmos who had the power to use it. It was the only possession that truly belonged to her alone.

  She ran for her father’s old study. She thrust her arms out before her, meaning to toss the beach ball sized boulders out of her way as she went. But they barely moved an inch. Why had she become so weak? Her power seemed to have drained out of her, and yet she felt renewed, whole without Master’s presence inside her mind.

  She ignored her questions and ran, jumping over the boulders instead of tossing them aside with her mind. She had to get to the Kinstone. Without it, she would only be able to flee on foot, and wouldn’t get far. If her rock powers remained out of reach, she wouldn’t even make it past the entrance to Riverstone.

  Then she was there. It was in the chamber, hidden beneath a pile of papers on the far side of the room. Whatever little bit of her had remained once Master had brought her back here had hidden it, or tried to. For all these months she had lied to herself, telling herself that it was of no value, that its magic was long spent. But it hadn’t been true. It had been only her attempt to fool Master into leaving it alone so that one day, today, she would be able to get to it again.

  And, as her fingers closed over the cold, hard rock, relief flooded through her.

  It’s still here.

  She held the rock up above her head, spoke the first location that came to mind, the only place she could think that Aster may have fled to. She had to get to him. She had to explain everything that had happened.

  “Stonemore.”

  Nothing happened. She studied the Kinstone, perplexed. Then said the name again.

  Still nothing.

  Fear began creeping along her skin as she realized the stone wasn’t working. What had happened? Had Master destroyed it somehow?

  Suddenly, the light of the setting sun in the room grew brighter. She clasped her hands to her eyes, squinting in the sudden brilliance. She turned and, through the slits in her fingers, saw the looming shape of a man.

  “You must come with me now,” he said. Something about his voice was familiar. He reached out a thick, glowing arm towards her, his fingers outstretched.

  She took several steps backward, unsure, cornered like a hunted animal.

  The remnants of Master’s hold were fading, though, even more quickly now. She could barely sense his presence at all. She breathed more easily than she could ever remember having done before.

  “Jade,” the man said, approaching her. “It’s me. Erod.”

  She forced her eyes open another millimeter, tried to bring the incredible brightness of the man’s face into focus.

  “Erod?”

  He was one of the Solitaries, from the village of giants who now worked beneath Corentin rule. They had been merely untrustworthy before. Now, they were vicious and dangerous, the powerful muscle behind Master’s hold in Riverstone. And Erod was one of them.

  But he had also been Aster’s friend.

  She stood, frozen on the spot, unable to decide what to do next. Then, in her desperation to be away from this place, to be away from this man, the brother of Master’s servants, she raised the Kinstone above her head again.

  “Stonemore!” she called urgently. Then, when nothing happened. “Ossenland! Fire Mountains!”

  She shook the Kinstone over her head, as if hoping that she might be able to jostle it back to life. In her panic, she backed up, trying to enlarge the space between herself and this glowing monster come to do away with her.

  Glowing?

  She paused, staring again at Erod. His face was kind, but worry lined each of his features. He stretched his fingers out to her, clearly hoping she would trust him just long enough to grasp them.

  But her mind was mush, a tangled web of confusion at all that had transpired in just the last few minutes.

  Then, he was upon her. She shuddered, lost, terrified. Her power was gone. She had felt the last tiny remnants of it draining away as she had come down the hall. And now, the Kinstone was useless, dead in her hands.

  But Erod did not attack. Instead, he put his hands on her shoulders and stared hard into her eyes.

  “We have to get away from here,” he said.

  She looked up, perplexed at his strange choice of words. Hadn’t he come to kill her?

  Nothing but kindness stared back at her, and she could not deny the feeling of her heart filling up. Without a thought, and with little choice, she nodded and took his hand.

  They ran down the tunnel, Erod in front of her to light the way. In one pocket, the gold hung heavy. In the other, the Kinstone. They bashed against her legs with every stride.

  She had questions. She wanted to stop him, to ask what was going on. Where had Master gone? And where had he, Erod, come from?

  But she knew he was right, and there was no time. She didn’t understand how any of this was possible, or how they would successfully escape at all. She only knew that, standing next to Erod, Master was gone. Not just diminished. Gone.

  She felt she would follow him to any end just to keep away from the Corentin’s clutches.

  As they made the outside of the castle, Erod swept her up into his arms, draping her over his back, and ran.

  Speed. Faster than she had ever traveled in her life, they flew across the rocky terrain towards the cliffs that bordered Riverstone.

  “Where are we going?” she yelled over the sound of wind.

  “The sea,” Erod said.

  She opened her mouth to ask why. Why didn’t they just jump away? She had the link right here in her pocket. Perhaps he could look at it, fix whatever had gone wrong with it.

  But as she was just starting to speak, the words died on her lips. In the distance, three figures were gliding down the mountain. Mount Neri, the very place where Jared had met his end, seemed to spit them out, and there could be no mistake in their direction of travel.

  Erod’s pace quickened further, and she noticed that the figures changed their direction. Instead of coming directly for them, they moved now towards the place it seemed she and Erod were, themselves, headed.

  For the first time she heard his breathing, rough and ragged with the effort of the flight.

  “Don’t let go of me!” he yelled.

  She obeyed.

  The figures were too far away to make out clearly, but they had an eerie glow, just barely visible in the gathering night. It made her stomach swirl with panic. They were here at the Corentin’s command, she was sure, sent to retrieve his lost prey.

  Desperately, she gripped the Kinstone within her pocket, shouting out the names of places she might escape to. Ossenland. Stonemore. Carenso. Avendar. But it stayed stubbornly extinguished, its power lost.

  They were headed for the sea, but what awaited them there? Erod could swim. She remembered this, because he had s
aved her and Aster amidst the wild sea once. But could he swim all the way to safety? Could he really outrun the Corentin and every minion he had?

  As they neared the edge of the city, where the gates rose tall against the twilight, what she saw frightened her so badly that she buried her face in Erod’s shoulder.

  Men.

  Hundreds of giants, Erod’s kin, were amassing at the gates, waiting for them.

  He really had sent everyone, then. Every poor soul that had had the misfortune of stumbling across Master’s path had been amassed to retrieve her.

  Faster. Please go faster. They’re coming.

  Erod didn’t hear her silent plea, but he did go faster. His feet pounded the earth like a battering ram, and she felt certain that the mountain would crack beneath them from the pressure of his steps.

  The gray figures were on the far side of the valley now. How were they moving so fast? They glided silently up the steep hillside towards the cliffs. On the other side, the Solitaries closed in, forming a chain of muscled arms, intending to block their path to the water.

  “When we get there,” Erod puffed, “hold on. Don’t let go. You can’t use your powers while I’m near you. Not while I’m alight like this. But if we are separated he will overtake you again. Do you understand?”

  Realization hit her hard. It had been Erod and his strange power that had driven the Corentin out of her mind. But it was also Erod who rendered her own defenses useless. She struggled to think, to decide which she wanted. Power of her own, beneath Master’s control. Or no more power than a newborn child, but within Erod’s protection.

  She chose Erod, and held on for her life.

  As they approached the cliffs, battle horns sounded from the men, still pouring out of the city. They were calling to anyone in earshot to come, to prevent her escape.