by Brindi Quinn
“I like to think I have good judgment.”
He lifted my hair to kiss me below the ear. My neck was numb and frigid where his lips had grazed. “Sorry,” he muttered against my skin. “It isn’t easy to resist. I’ll work on it.”
“It’s fine,” I breathed. “It feels good.” I tipped my neck back so that he could kiss along my jaw. Waves traveled through me. Flutters abounded. He took my earlobe in his teeth.
And then he hesitated, for there had been a noise on the other side of the wall.
Yes, I was still a queen, and he was still Beau’s guard, and the world would cast us out if it became known.
“They’re coming. We have to stop or someone will see,” I said.
He groaned and slid his hands up my waist to my ribcage and then back down before releasing me. “As you command, my queen.”
But as I turned to leave him, he took my shoulder. “Wait. There’s something else you should know. It won’t make you happy, but I want to be the one to tell you.”
Uh-oh. I knew that tone. It was similar to when he told me Beau was missing.
“Wind?”
He frowned, eyeing me as if I were made of glass. “Battles are not won without casualties, Merrin. You did what you had to do, and you should feel no regret.”
“Why…?”
I didn’t understand. Beau was rescued. We were all reunited, our monster on the loose.
Windley squeezed my shoulder. “The fault was not yours but fate’s. He could have been standing anywhere.” He swallowed, minding my reaction. “Do you remember the guard we saw mapping the land while we ran from the woodman’s hut?”
“The well-mannered one? Bartolomew?”
“Yes.” Windley cupped my ears as if he could shield me from what he was about to say. “He wasn’t able to move out of the way in time. One of those bone fragments from the Necropolis hit him. He didn’t make it.”
Then that meant—
“I… killed someone?”
Beau was right. The power of the echoes, the power of Exitium, was dangerous
During the mourning that ensued, I made a vow never to speak the word again.
But our journey was really only getting started, and I would speak that word many, many more times and take many, many more lives before I would ever return home.
Overhead, Luna’s face in the moon watched as I clenched Windley’s cloak and sobbed for the soul I had sacrificed to save my dearest friend.
It had to happen, Windley assured me, for the goddess needed to be stopped. After all, she had killed three dozen cavalry members and would have frozen Rafe solid. One life, he said, was worth saving many.
I wouldn’t find out for some time that Luna was, in fact, not the one who had massacred Beau’s cavalry.
That was something much worse.
Chapter 26
Until Next Time
Well, that’s all, captive ones. We returned home, back to our lives, and everything went back to the way it was.
…Kidding.
The night after retrieving Beau, we made camp in the thick of the Emerald Wood, in the chill of autumn reaching its dawn. Everything felt new and fresh and light. I stroked Ruckus’s coarse fur and watched with amusement as Beau, who had bor-rowed one of my riding outfits, tugged at the crotch of her britches.
“I look like a boy,” she said.
“Yes, but a hot one,” I said. “Try to get used to it. You can ride so much faster in pants. It will make for fun footraces in the Scarlet Wood.”
“I swear you were born to the wrong body, Merrin,” she said.
She might be right.
The Queen of the Clearing was looking surprisingly put together after learning that most of her cavalry had met a grizzly fate. She had spent time alone grieving, and then time beside me grieving, and now she was acting strong for those who remained—like the ruler she was, though inside I knew she pained.
“The moon is set to turn gold soon,” she said, staring up through the trees and blinking away the moisture that had been lining her eyes all day. “We won’t be back in time for the lunar festival.”
I looped my arm through hers. “We’ll have to make next year’s doubly good to make up for it,” I said.
Though I doubted I would ever look at the moon the same way again. I had made an enemy of the goddess trapped within, and time had yet to tell whether doing so had even broken the hex on Rafe’s heart. For now, at least, he seemed to be doing well, though I noticed things about him I never had before. I picked up on his subtle glances, the corner of his mouth twitching when Beau said something funny, the way he brushed her hand as he walked past. I had been blind to it before.
Maybe you needed to know love to see it in others.
“What are you thinking about, lion queen?” Someone trailed a finger down my arm. I turned to find Windley offering a come-hither smirk and quickly swiveled to make sure none of Beau’s other guards saw. Rafe may have been discreet, but Windley? Not so much.
His actions seemed so obvious now. Had it gotten worse? Or had I really been that dense?
Or maybe our monster was just more unruly than theirs.
That smirk, though.
Goddess, I wish you could have seen it.
I couldn’t wait until we were back home. I couldn’t wait until we were away from all these other people. Drinks on the veranda, stargazing in the belvedere, walks through the wood…
But if I’m honest, there was little else that sounded appealing about returning home.
Things were less complicated out here. A wandering soul was a free one. I considered that maybe I was a lousy queen, willing to give up my entire queendom for the sake of finding a friend. Willing to jeopardize my reign for the sake of a kiss. I played with my mother’s necklace and wondered if she had encountered any such temptation during her time as Queen of the Crag.
The night was merry, the cavalry elated over finding their lost queen. Albie kept close to me, watching me closely, disapproving of the way Windley grazed my back when he thought no one was looking. Albie’s betrayal in the woodcutter’s cabin felt a distant memory. He had done it out of love, even if misdirected, and I was at fault too, for hiding my powers from him. He was ever my protector, feeding the cavalry my story about the moon goddess who had saved Beau from her unknown captor.
For now, at least, my secret was safe. And that story would be written in the royal archives of both our queendoms and eventually turn into legend.
I would carry the echoes for Beau for nine months until she was ready to take them back. Bartolomew’s sacrifice was a testament to their destructive power, Windley a testament to my lack of self-control. Beau was the safer choice. I had come to know that.
In the black of night, we all rounded the fire, eating a stew Rafe had prepared, while Beau brushed out my tangled hair. “Is that… THAT IS A FEATHER! Where even is there a bird around here?!”
“Maybe the widowbird dropped one?” I shrugged.
“But it’s white!” She feverishly searched through the rest of it as if expecting to find a dove.
A Beau burst? Yes, all was right with the world.
Or so it was for a fleeting moment.
The cavalry was drunk, Albie was drunk, and my head was in Beau’s lap while Rafe and Windley watched us tenderly from the other side of the fire. The warmth of the flames seemed a warning, urging me to stay beside it and not retire to bed.
I didn’t listen.
I should have listened.
“Lion queen?” Windley’s voice was at my ear.
I opened my eyes to darkness. “Windley? What are you doing here? This is the queen’s tent, you know.” Indeed, Beau purred beside me, curled perfectly on her side like a kitten. “Was Albie right?” I jested. “Are you a bounder?”
“Tch. If I was, you would be first to know, as you would be my primary target.”
I sat up from the blankets. “Are you okay? Your face is strained.”
“Sorry, I didn�
��t think you’d already be asleep. I have the strangest headache, and I feel the need to take a walk.” He pushed at his temple. “I just wanted to tell someone in case I get eaten by a beast out there.”
“A headache?”
“Yeah, I’ve been getting them the last few days, but tonight is really bad. I’m just going to clear my head. Maybe look for a stream. I would have told Phylo or one of the others, but most are dead drunk. I’ll be back by morning. Don’t let them leave without me.”
“Wait,” I said, “I’ll go with you.”
“No, you should sleep,” he coaxed, eyes shining like black diamonds. “You’ve only just defied the heavens, haven’t you? I’d wager that level of might took a lot out of you.”
“I’ve already got my cloak, see?” I took him by the collar. “Besides, I’ve been wanting to get you alone.”
“Oh really?” His gleam was uncontained. “Whatever would you want to do with me?” The corner of his mouth curled. “All right, then. Maybe I came in here hoping you’d join me anyway.”
In the dead of night, we stole past the kindling fire, through the trees and away from camp, fingers entwined and followed by a glowing trail of footprints. His palm was warm, his knuckles strong. Windley watched me from the corner of his eye as though I might disappear when the sun rose.
I wanted him to look at me like that always.
But it wasn’t to be so. After a passing of time, the scarlet-haired guard made a noise of discomfort and brought his hand to the side of his head.
“Windley?”
His blackstone ring caught the reflection of a passing orb of forest light. “I’m fine,” he said. “Walking really does seem to help. Shame. I finally have you to myself, and I’m impaired.”
I felt my neck warm at the thought of him having me to himself. “I-I wonder what brought it on,” I deflected. “You said it’s been happening for days?”
“Mm. But not like this. It was only dull before. Just an annoyance. It’s worse tonight.”
That was troubling. Luckily, I was queen of a medicinal queendom and ailments were my specialty. I began to search around for greenery that might be used to make a headache suppressant.
“Over there.” I pointed. “There’s moth rose. That’s good for aches of all kinds. I can make a medicine for you if we find some vera.” I tugged his hand, but he held his ground.
“Not that way.” He put his hand to the front of his head this time and winced.
“Not that way?” I said. “Are we going somewhere in particular?”
“No… I don’t think so, but…” He showed his teeth, rubbing the side of his temple.
That’s when the pit of my stomach began to drop.
“Windley? What’s happening?”
“I’m not sure—it’s like there’s something in my head that’s ramming against a door. And it feels better if we walk in this direction.”
A headache that cured from walking in a certain direction was no normal headache. I had no curative for a headache like that. This time I was the one to plant my feet. “No. Something doesn’t feel right.”
The darkened wood was suddenly feeling a bit eerie, and I was suddenly feeling a bit uneasy about the shadowed shapes dotting the trees.
When Windley saw my expression, he stopped and examined our surroundings. “Oh shit. I didn’t realize we had strayed so far. I’m not sure what’s wrong with me, Merrin. Let’s turn back.”
But we had only just started to when I realized that one pile of forest growth was shaped a bit like a person. I clenched Windley’s hand hard.
“What is it?” He pushed me behind himself, fingers toying at the hilt of one hatchet.
As suspected, that questionable patch of forest growth straightened before stepping out from the rest of the underbrush. It was a person—one garbed in a long, hooded cloak.
My pulse turned quick.
“Stay where you are if you don’t want to lose a hand!” seethed Windley, hatchet now fully revealed.
Yet the figure approached.
“Did you not hear me, fiend?” Windley spat, pushing me further behind him, shielding me from view.
“We thought we felt you skulking around in the southern domain,” said the garbed figure, who was either a man or a very throaty woman.
My first thought was that they were talking about me—the nemophilist and my glowing footsteps that gave me away like a beacon, until—
“Well done, Windalloy,” the figure said, clapping slowly. “After eight long years, the lost son returns. It seems you’ve ensnared a powerful one for a pet, too.”
Windalloy? That couldn’t be coincidence, right? And… eight years was how long Windley had been with us. So by ensnared pet, the hooded man meant… me?
I was no one’s pet.
But Windley took no acknowledgement of any of this. He continued to clutch me behind himself, demanding, “Who are you?”
“Come now, the effects of that crude elixir must be wearing off now that you’ve stepped foot on southern soil again. Surely you remember your master.” The man lowered his hood to reveal a strikingly handsome face with gleaming, intoxicating, mesmerizing lavender eyes.
A Spirite?
“Argh.” With a grunt, Windley doubled over, hand to his temple. “No… I…”
I clung to him, already ready to break my vow and summon the echoes. Whoever this was, I was stronger, for I wore the Nemophile’s Crown, and I could end them with a push of my hands.
I flexed my fingers in preparation for a fight.
“MErrIN?”
“Merrrrin.”
But after the episode, Windley merely stood, even keel, and said, “Oh, I forgot about all that.” Then, over his shoulder, he issued me a frantic, whispered directive: “Run, lion queen. Back to camp, and don’t look back. Ever.”
But I only made it a few lighted steps before I was undertaken by three other hooded beings.
Windley’s dark past had finally caught up with him.
Well, that seems as good a place to stop as any, don’t you think? There’s simply too much for one sitting, and I’m sure you have things to do. Fear not, captive ones, everything will make sense in due time.
And I assure you, it will all be worth it.
Until next time,
Xoxo, Merrin
A Crown of Echoes: END
Thank you for reading A Crown of Echoes!
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If you enjoyed the style of this book, you may also enjoy The Eternity Duet, Lightborne, or Heart of Farellah, also by Brindi Quinn!
About the Author:
Brindi Quinn is a fantasy/paranormal author from Minnesota specializing in world building and romance. She debuted in 2011 with her epic fantasy series Heart of Farellah. Since then, she has published over a dozen young adult novels. Brindi considers herself an avid fangirl, indulging heavily in video game lore and good SF TV. She has a bachelor's in general communication studies and is contracted through Never & Ever Publishing.
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