by AJ Nuest
He rested his forehead against hers, his gaze following the tip of his finger down to the sensitive skin between her breasts. Warmth spilled and flowed like nectar through her veins as he circled the spot where the key once lay. “I’ve had the chain repaired.”
A quiet laugh shook her shoulders and she placed her hand on his cheek. “I already told you. I don’t need it.” And she spoke true. Ever since the fateful day she had removed the key from around her neck, she’d not regretted her decision to live out her days in this realm for a single moment. Besides, Caedmon had insisted the armoire be returned to their chambers. He’d made it a point to hide the key inside the hidden compartment and had sworn all those who knew its location to secrecy. If and when the day ever arose they might need its power, the key would be there, waiting for them. If not, then there it would stay until…well, she didn’t know when.
He withdrew and tipped his head, the calloused end of his finger grazing down to loop around her bellybutton. “’Tis probably for the best. Fandorn cautioned against leaping through the veil while you are with child.”
She laughed again when he placed his palm flush to her stomach. The afternoon they’d gone for a leisurely ride in the forest and she’d told him their child was growing in her womb, he’d whooped so loudly Dart and the horses and spooked and run off, leaving them stranded until Setting. The animals’ disappearance hadn’t mattered, though. She and Caedmon had figured out how to fill the hours until Belial and Zephyrus returned just fine.
A crease formed between his brows and her smile slowly faded. He was at it again. Worrying about things neither of them could control. Fretting over the future and safety of his family, the haunting disappearance of Braedric’s body and the defense of their kingdom.
She brought her other hand to his face and lifted his chin until he met her gaze. “We are safe, my king. There has been no sign of Gaelleod, and Denmar has repeatedly assured us Seviere will not attack without the aid of his wizard. The hashishans have been scattered to the four winds and the Dreggs patrol our borders with a loyalty that borders on obsession. If anything were to happen—which it won’t—we will be given plenty of warning.”
A tender smile tugged at his lips and he leaned down for a kiss. “You’ve misread my thoughts, my love. For the first in all the seasons I can recall, I do not fear the future. We are together, and due your ultimate sacrifice have years to labor over uncertainties which may one day come to pass.”
She frowned. “Then what troubles you?” He had too many concerns of late. Rebuilding the guard, the intricacies of state, presiding over the constant bickering of the council. None of those things came easy to a man who’d spent the majority of his life doling out justice with the sharp edge of his sword.
“Now whose worries have grown to distraction?” He tapped the end of her nose. “I was merely contemplating the words to a tale.” His fingers slid down the ticklish skin of her inner arm and he twined their fingers together. “Come and sit with me before the fire.”
“Really?” Then again, her king had a gift for storytelling, and she couldn’t imagine ever growing weary of the steady rhythm of his voice lulling her to sleep. She followed as he led her toward the fur trimmed pillows and blankets they’d scattered before the hearth. “What’s this one about?”
He sat and pulled her down beside him, arranging the two of them just so—her cheek resting on his shoulder, his arm cradling her warm along the length of his body. “It is a tale of great heroics. In fact, I daresay I may command the bard pen a song in its honor.”
“Wow. That’s impressive.” She tossed a blanket over her their legs and slipped an arm around his waist. “Have I heard it before?”
“No, but parts of it may seem familiar.” He kissed the top of her head. “Now shush and be patient, and I shall unravel for you the tale of a grand wizard named Oliver the Gray, and his loyal companion, Sir Jon the Brave.”
Coming soon
The Golden Key Legacy
Bonus Material
The Mythology Behind The Golden Key Chronicles
The Story of Helios & Selene
Preface
If an author has done their job right, they craft the genre of fantasy romance with a keen eye focused on world building and lore. In an effort to emulate this task, while writing The Golden Key Chronicles, I knew it would be important to create a religious background for the people of the realm of Austiere. In Caedmon’s Curse, Book III of The Golden Key Chronicles, Prince Caedmon tells Rowena the story of his beliefs, the legend behind them and the god and goddesses contained within the heavens.
The Mythology Behind The Golden Key Chronicles: The Story of Helios and Selene is the culmination of this lore.
Deities
Primary god and goddess:
Helios—Sun god, supreme being and father to The Nine
Selene—Moon goddess, lover of Helios and ruler of the night
The Nine Daughters and their configurations in the heavens:
Fortuna – Goddess of Love, eldest daughter to Helios
Constellation: the evening star
“ … and this being shall be created to personify the mysteries of the heart.”
Eolande – Goddess of Light/the Dawn, second eldest daughter to Helios
Constellation: phoenix with wings
“For this goddess is the embodiment of my physical being, made in my image.”
Lithra – Goddess of Creation, third eldest daughter to Helios
Constellation: vacant throne
“To encompass desire, as a mother and bearer of life, I breathe this creature into being.”
Elmina – Goddess of the Soul, fourth eldest daughter to Helios
Constellation: a shield and lance
“These mighty weapons I bestow, so none shall go forth unprotected against sin.”
The twins: fifth and sixth eldest daughters to Helios
Arelle – The Messenger. Constellation: dove
Perrin – The Wanderer. Constellation: octant
“Destiny to spin the wheel of life. Fate to guide its course. By the strike of my hand two halves of one being are torn asunder.”
Cassiel – Goddess of Abundance/Generosity, seventh eldest daughter to Helios
Constellation: a sickle
“Beneath the reign of her bountiful eye, all shall know joy and benevolence.”
Aldreda – Goddess of Wisdom/Luck, eighth eldest daughter to Helios
Constellation: balanced scales
“Good must know evil; light honor dark. So too shall this being preserve the balance between these ideals.”
In’am – Goddess of Belief/Faith, ninth eldest daughter to Helios
Constellation: a woman decanting endless water from a vase
“So none shall fail to remember my divine providence.”
Chapter One
He dimmed.
And with his dimming came the same cold disquiet which festered across the eons whence he’d breathed his daughters into being.
“Please, Father.” Tears filled Fortuna’s blue eyes and his flare of irritation shimmered within the bead of moisture that tumbled and traced down her cheek. She wept too much as of late. “Grant us mercy, I beg you.”
That his other daughters would exploit her to such a degree scorched the last of his patience. As the eldest, she, above all, would crumble and wane beneath the cruelty of his punishment. The very embodiment of self sacrifice and love, Fortuna was not meant to suffer the woes of eternal heartbreak, and her sisters’ continued neglect had long since seared the tolerance from his soul. “You plead for that which I have not left to give.”
She lowered her head and nodded. A tear fell from her chin and merged with the folds of her white gown, tucked gracefully beneath her knees, floating amid the misty haze where she knelt at his feet.
His jaw firmed. Thrice and thrice and thrice again, he’d voiced his displeasure. He arose from his throne and clouds swirled as his footsteps thundered onto
the balcony. And nine times nine, his daughters had disregarded his decree.
He shone the full breadth of his illumination down upon the small fertile orb he’d centered in the sky. Even now, the eight youngest ignored his summons, cowering in fear behind the chaos they’d wrought, abandoning Fortuna to the brunt of his wrath.
“Can you be so cruel?” She whispered to a stop at his side and the cool skin of her palm met his heated forearm. “Is there no forgiveness left in your white heart?”
He turned his light upon his daughter’s cerulean gaze, tempering the urge to cup her pale cheek in his palm. In many ways, she epitomized the pinnacle of his creations. Yet her tendencies were too pure and gentle to purge the seething loneliness from his embittered heart. While her incandescent beauty soothed his eye, she was fragile, and betimes he worried his nearness would parch the peaceful nature of her soul.
As second eldest, Eolande bore no such risk. Crafted in his image, she beheld the same fiery lick of his disposition…and with it inherited the mirror image of his pride. The two of them composed a combustible pair, and their arguments oft sizzled with a fury that left trails of smoke lingering across the sky.
He dropped his gaze from the sorrow in his eldest daughter’s eyes and refocused his radiance on the planet…and the eight nymphs who embodied the source of his frustration. He’d misjudged his actions, assuming his ache for companionship could be quenched by breathing to life those same qualities he contained within himself. Lithra’s persistent lust, her constant yearning to be reassured… Aldreda’s silent judgment and Cassiel’s insatiable overindulgence.
Over the centuries, their problematic qualities had worn at him, eroding the very purpose for whence he’d sought his daughters’ attendance. While each of them contained the elements to rule and be revered, all had chosen folly, nepotism and greed. They’d turned their lights inward and sought only to fulfill their own needs.
All, except Fortuna. “You hope to remind me their willful traits lay beyond their control.”
She placed a willowy hand on her chest. “Yes, Father.”
Perchance she spoke true and the fault lie with him. Driven to heed their desires, he’d allowed them free reign to slake their thirst. He’d gifted them each a throne of gold and the autonomy of their own realm. Yet what measure of god would he be to allow their continued disrespect? What example of a father to let his daughters wreak havoc and lead his kingdom to ruin?
They’d taken his generosity and soured it with their indifference. They had discounted the outcome of their deeds and lived without reprimand. “They had but one restriction, Fortuna, and to this they refused to comply.”
He fisted his hands and the crackle of anger blazed up the length of his arms. Fortuna’s gown billowed as the dry gale of his fury coalesced, and she gasped and withdrew from his side.
As if the simmer of his annoyance hadn’t chased his daughters into shadow. As if the result of their meddling could be hidden from his all-seeing eye. They’d split the land and amused themselves by calling forth great monsters to desecrate his creation, then turned a blind eye while carnage reigned. Forged beneath the careless whims of his daughters, their mindless creatures mauled and raged even as the seas ran red with their blood.
Flickers leapt from his fingertips as he lifted his arms and held his hands aloft. His daughters had left him no choice. They had disobeyed his commands and then malingered as their beings ravaged his world. He could not allow his handiwork to be tainted with the stench of slaughter and decay.
With a sweep of his mighty hand, he gathered up the gossamer strands of the eight goddesses he’d breathed into life. “Come.”
Wails of sorrow mixed with their pleas of regret as his voice boomed throughout the heavens. Eight souls cried out in mourning as he flung his daughters far from view. No more would he heed their lies of repentance. No more, no more would their troublesome deceit be set upon his ear. Reaching through the ether of his kingdom, he brought forth a volley of destruction and rained the fiery spheres down upon his celestial globe. Explosions rumbled beneath his feet. Fire razed the surface, annihilating every creature in its path, vanquishing his daughters’ mutations to dust.
A sob wrenched from Fortuna’s throat. She crumpled to her knees, burying her face in her hands. “I must attend them, Father. They cannot be left alone.”
He closed his eyes, gritting his teeth against the constriction of his heart. Even as her sisters offered her up as the sacrificial lamb, Fortuna met their impertinence with forgiveness. Yet such was the composition of her soul.
Nothing more had he left to offer than the solace of those who continuously broke her heart.
“Then let it be so.” He swept a hand before the smoldering planet and sighed as Fortuna was whisked from his realm.
The unforgivable loneliness of eternity resumed.
* * *
A vast turbulence unfurled across the span of her ebony kingdom and Selene gasped as nine souls cried out in sorrow. She abandoned her nightly sojourn through the heavens and quickly spun back to her palace, searching out the small green-and-blue mote that had recently appeared in the sky. Despair fractured her heart, her footsteps forming a milky trail along the shadowy floor as she raced onto her terrace.
A halo of pungent gray smoke issued from the once lush celestial satellite, it’s surface boiling with embers of rage and destruction. Her fingers tightened on the banister and she scanned the inky sky. What manner of being could have done such a thing? To what purpose would such ruin be wrought? It was no surprise the heavens wept.
The soft light of her pale eye fell upon the sparkling forms of nine goddesses, weeping and huddled together some distance from the smoldering blight. Her icy heart lurched, and she frowned. Those beings were creatures of light, radiant and warm like the sun gods she’d oft passed while wandering the heavens. What desperate horrors could have driven them into her cold and desolate realm?
She refocused on the ruined planet and anger chilled the hollows of her soul. Her gaze shifted to the white-hot realm of the nearest sun god and she raised a withering brow. Of course. How many times had the seething arms of some similar being lashed out toward her sisters and charred their beauty to ash? How often had those of her kind been mesmerized by the magnetic allure of such radiance, only to be flung aside, deformed or blackened beyond recognition?
Extending the gentle glow of her white beams, she gathered the nine goddesses in her arms and whisked them home to her palace. They trembled before the cold grate of the dark hearth and she quickly sparked and banked the embers, granting them a reprieve to warm their chilled forms. A flick of her hand, and the high flames of four torches added light and heat to the cavernous room.
The cheeks of the smallest two starlets, identical in form and the pale hue of grief-stricken loss, heated each of her palms as she lifted their faces to her inspection. “What has happened?”
“Father banished us.” Crystalline tears flowed like molten silver down the flawless skin of the first. “He is—”
“Angry.” The second chimed, closing her eyes as she wept. “We disobeyed and he became wearied by—”
“Our behavior.” The first resumed as if the two shared the plaited filaments of one soul. “We are forever chastised and cast from—”
“His kingdom.” The second turned toward her mirror image and the two encircled one another in their arms. The spark of their inner lights dimmed amid their sighs of inconsolable heartache.
Selene withdrew a pace, her fingers fisted in anger. Their father had no right to hurtle them into her realm. Not without her permission.
The slimmest of the nine drew near and placed her slender hands on the twins’ shoulders. As she leaned down, a weft of her shining dark hair slipped over her arm and blanketed the cherubim blonde coils of her sisters. “Arelle, Perrin, you must have foreseen our exile. Why did you not warn us of these laments?”
“Do not place blame on them, In’am.” Light from the low fire
winked against the shield of the armored goddess as she turned and swiped a salty pearl from her cheek with a bent knuckle. “We were all of us distracted by our pursuits.”
She placed a sandaled foot on the cushion of the chair and lowered her elbow to her knee. The masculine planes of her wide jaw and black cropped curls befit the appearance of a war deity, yet still Selene frowned. No matter their crimes, to be rent from their father’s side seemed an inexhaustible punishment. What manner of terrible behavior could have merited such a cost?
“The fault lay in me.”
Selene spun and her breath caught at the fair goddess standing in the open archway to the balcony, her gaze pinned to the spoiled crust of the distant planet. Surely she was the loveliest being to have blessed the sum of all creation. How could any father peer upon the face of such beauty and deny her the joy of his presence? Like all those of his kind scattered throughout the cosmos, the sun god undoubtedly harbored a cruel, selfish heart.
“Into this form he breathed the greater margin of his mercy.” The gentle folds of the goddess’ white gown whispered atop her bare feet as she turned, and Selene’s heart splintered at the profound sadness etched in the bottomless depths of her gaze. “What that I would give he would have made me less. Perhaps then, the whole of our existence would not be so distorted.”
“Balance must be maintained, Fortuna.” The tallest of the nine drew close and clasped Fortuna’s hand, her high unlined brow and aquiline nose a mask of prudent wisdom. “Causality governs even him. We must all bear our portion of the burden.”
The raven-haired beauty standing before the hearth scoffed and tossed her head. “Then he should not have gifted us free will.” Her amber eyes sparked with resentment, and she held her hands so near the flames, her umber skin partook a portion of its glow. “We were encouraged to forge our own fates and then penalized for our decisions, and now we’re condemned to withstand the heartless abyss of this vacant, frigid prison.”