Enchanter's Echo

by Anise Rae

  He stopped as he came to the chamber’s opening, just before the horrid energy. She knelt on the floor, head tilted down, her hair falling over her shoulder. He was going to kiss her and hold her hand and send her away. She’d live and, goddess willing, she’d thrive. He would stay and escort his land into death.

  The gun lay in front of her. She stared down at it, her golden hammer in her hand.

  “You don’t need to touch that,” he said.

  “I know.”

  “Come to me, Aurora.” He couldn’t go in. He wouldn’t have the strength to walk back out.

  She rubbed one hand over the air surrounding the gun as if sensing its aura. “In a minute.”

  He didn’t have a minute. He had no time, no minutes, no seconds, none that wasn’t accounted for. Every moment was already filled with losing her.

  She lifted the hammer and struck the gun. A high-pitched ding rang out, a harmonic tone that repeated over and over. He waited as she flattened the gun with her enchanted tool. A minute of his precious time gone.

  She stood, carrying the newly formed sheet of thin, dark metal and her hammer, and then walked farther into the chamber, away from him, stealing his seconds. She held the dented metal against the edge of the hole as if the thousands of pounds of energy flooding forth were nothing to her strength. The enchanted tool made quick work of spelling the metal into place against the rock wall.

  The flood of energy stopped. It flowed back through the tunnel as the goddess had intended with a single swish. He nearly staggered to his knees at the silence. Even the roar went quiet.

  The moment she was close enough, he reached out and grabbed her. Goddess, he wasn’t worthy.

  He wasn’t sure how long he stood there, pressing her body to his. Nor was he sure how long it took them to walk out of the cave. All his minutes and seconds had come rushing back in a confusing mess. He’d sort them out later. For now, he held her hand.

  He needed nothing more.

  Chapter 22

  Night claimed the forest while they’d been in the cave. A crescent moon peaked between wispy clouds to light their way among the snowy trees. Gregor strode off ahead of them, fading away in the darkness. Edmund stayed at her side, holding her hand. An exhausted fog clung to her bones. For a moment she closed her eyes, letting him guide her. He must have noticed because he pulled her to a stop. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into his chest.

  She rested her head against him. The steady beat of his heart drummed beneath her. She took a deep breath and absorbed its sweet rhythm. She could listen to it for a lifetime and never tire of its song, but the law would never tolerate it. She was back to hiding secrets. This time she had Edmund to help her carry them.

  Behind her, a giggle rang out, soft and sweet.

  Aurora twisted around. Her feet tangled in a snowdrift as alarm banished the fog within her. “Edmund.”

  “I heard.” He was already one step ahead, pulling her out of the snow and toward Lily. Even Bull hadn’t been able to keep her contained.

  Lily giggled again. “I do it like this?”

  “Just like that,” a craggily old woman replied. “Not too tight are they, Mr. Bull?”

  “No, ma’am.” His voice cracked high.

  At the edge of the bank, the High Councilor sat on a small rock, helping Lily put handcuffs on Bull. Her staff leaned against the stone.

  Aurora’s heart stopped at the sight of the little girl with the High Councilor.

  “Here’s the key, kid,” she croaked. “You have fun now. Bet you could outrun him with those legs. Ever tried?”

  “Uh-uh.”

  “Ready. Set. Go!”

  Lily raced off and a hobbled Bull tracked after her.

  The High Councilor cackled as she turned to Aurora and Edmund. “Played it rather close, didn’t you?” She tsked. “Rallis came closer to falling than any territory in history. A test of strength. You passed. Noble’s got a lesson coming to them. I cut off my apprentice’s head. Do you think you could make her a new one, enchantress?”

  Aurora gasped, her chest constricting.

  “Oh! Come on! Did you think I didn’t know? I’m an oracle for goddess sake. Besides that, it sang out in a very loud melody from your sparkly little brain, enchantress. I wish I’d known earlier. With your power, I could have halted the First Uprising in its vibes, and the second one never would have occurred. If we happen to have a third uprising, expect to be on the front lines, glitter girl, re-bonding rebel rogues before I chop off their heads, too.”

  She drew her lips into a thin line. “My apprentice was in on it from the start,” the High Councilor explained, her tone lowering as she switched subjects. “She was a mistake on my part. I can’t afford mistakes.” Harsh recrimination filled her tone. “I knew there was an enemy in the High Council’s house, but I didn’t know who it was until now.”

  Edmund cocked his head. “What was that? I suddenly heard a chorus of crickets and I couldn’t make out your words. You didn’t realize until when?”

  She grunted. “Don’t you know that it’s against the law to point out when your High Councilor is lying?” Another grunt. “I pushed the redial button on the landline after she snuck out of my office. And lo and behold, the enchantress answered at trash tower number thirteen. I realize now that the girl had been plotting with her sister. I had no idea Gwyn Noble was here until I saw Vinny dragging her through the snow just now.” She shook her head. “I should have taken my former apprentice from her family when she was days old instead of eight years. Ruthless. It’s the only way to rule. Remember that, Mr. Monday, and you’ll be a fine senator!”

  “If you’d told us your suspicions we could have put the pieces together quicker,” Edmund countered. “Because of your silence, Rallis and its mages suffered unnecessarily. You risked the entire Republic by keeping this secret.”

  “Boy,” her tone turned deadly, “I knew the possibilities. I saw the paths. If I admitted the Council had been infiltrated, the resulting power struggle would have led to a war that involved the entire Republic. Deaths uncountable and the Republic destroyed forever. I couldn’t see who the infiltrator was.” She narrowed her face with a pinch. “But your path I could see. You would uncover the traitor. You and the enchantress. You would do it in secret. No one need know the High Council had been compromised. Even if you—in your attempt to find the enemy—allowed Rallis to collapse, then war would come, but….” She shrugged.

  “The Republic would still stand in the end,” Edmund said, his voice fierce. Aurora put her hand on his sleeve. “But Rallis would be destroyed. You sacrificed my family. My people.”

  The woman shrugged. “You succeeded. All is well for Rallis. Just as I thought would happen.”

  “Crickets,” he hissed.

  Aurora squeezed his hand. They couldn’t afford to have this woman as an enemy.

  The High C threw her hands in the air. “Fine! I owe you a favor. Poof!” She clapped her hands. It reverberated around the forest with bone-shaking power. “There goes the Law of Natural Physique. You can live. For now.”

  Aurora’s head spun.

  “You should know, this won’t be a popular move. You’ll have to make it so with a little political ba da boom. I recommend chopping off a few Mayflower noses, especially on the ladies, and a few cocks from the men. Then presto! The enchantress has needy customers. She’ll be one beloved girl once schnozes are replaced and bigger and better bits dangle low. Better start working on your inventory, Goldie.”

  She picked up her staff and pursed her lips. “Are we friends again? No? Well, we will be. I know it. I see it, even though the enchantress is with you.” She jabbed a finger toward Aurora. “She makes things hard to see. All cloudy with glitter.” She paused for a breath. “Monday, I want an invitation to the wedding. I give amazing gifts. Oh, I release you from your vow.”

  A pressure that Aurora had almost forgotten about lifted as the High C
ouncilor turned to go. Thank the starry night that was over. She let her shoulders slump.

  The old woman pointed at the air with her staff. A doorway appeared over the river. She walked on water and disappeared.

  Silence wove through the forest, wrapping around them. Even the flow of the river was muffled by the heavy snow. A peace that seemed lost forever only moments ago drifted through the trees. Aurora almost didn’t know what to make of it.

  She put her hand on Edmund’s heart. “No more secrets,” she whispered. “No more hiding.” Her lower lip trembled as she lifted her gaze to him. “Your heart…what do you think your family will say?”

  He leaned his forehead down to hers. “Ror, they’ll say thank you.”

  * * * *

  Edmund lifted her in his arms. He took four steps to the rock the old woman had used as a seat. He sank down, reclaiming the spot, and secured Aurora on his lap. She leaned against his shoulder and tilted her head up to the moonlight. Her green eyes weren’t quite clear of the desperation that had drowned them both. It would take awhile to recover, for her heart to mend from the betrayal, for his anguished roar to completely loosen its grip.

  He stroked a finger down the line of her soft cheek, careful not to touch the shallow cuts from the rocks. “My sweet rebel girl.”

  “I’m not a rebel,” she said softly.

  “Ha. You’re the biggest rebel in the territory.” He bent down and kissed the edge of her cheek. “Though if you break another law like this I get to tie you up and spank you.”

  She looked up at him and scoffed. “You can try. But you’ll find that difficult once I...string you up with my vines.” Pleased with her creative thinking on the fly, she smiled.

  His heart warmed at the sight, but the roar shifted inside him, remembering that he’d almost lost that smile. He forced himself to keep his hands gentle on her, not gripping her tightly forever. He hadn’t realized the stakes in this game had been so high. But he’d won his prize. Aurora.

  He gave her a smile back. “Do you know how many laws the Republic has? 6,459. I’m betting you don’t know even a tenth of them. Pretty good odds for me.”

  “Edmund.” She spoke, bathed in moonbeams. “I think we need a vacation.”

  He bent and pressed a soft kiss to her exposed neck. “No, princess. We need a honeymoon. You have to marry me, you know.”

  A tempting spark lit her eyes. “Why?”

  Because I almost lost you. Because I almost gave you away. Because I like holding your hand.

  He brought her hand to his chest. “I have your heart. It’s a law that you have to marry the man who carries your heart.”

  “That’s not a law.” She laughed and rubbed his nose with hers.

  “It will be.”

  Meet the Author

  Anise Rae grew up in a small corner of Rallis Territory, also known as the farmlands of Ohio. An avid reader from the start, her favorite days were spent with a book or dreaming up her own stories, all accompanied by the soft song of the wind dancing through the cornfields.

  Her passion for romance started early with fairy tales. Back then, happily ever after seemed to be the perfect ending for a story. It still does. It’s a key component of every story she writes, along with love, adventure, and magic.

  Though she still considers Ohio home, she now lives in Atlanta with her two children and a big, fluffy dog gifted with the magic power of finding dirty socks.

  Turn the page for a special excerpt of Anise Rae’s

  Syphon’s Song

  Legends say a syphon can drain a mage dry. He'll brave the danger. Will she?

  Someone’s playing pranks. The body of the late Casteel patriarch has been stolen and gifted to the family’s enemy, the powerful Rallises. As far as Bronte Casteel is concerned, they can keep it. She hasn’t spoken to her family in thirteen years, not since they exiled her from society for her lack of mage power. But she’s a syphon mage, able drain another mage’s power. Syphons’ destinies are always the same: death by fiery stake. She hides her secret by living among the Nons--powerless humans and the lowest class in the Republic. When her family orders her to go plead for the body’s return, she comes face to face with the one man who knows her secret.

  Colonel Vincent Rallis isn’t letting his syphon get away this time. Not when she’s under suspicion of body-napping and aiding anti-mage terrorists. He’ll prove her innocence whether she wants him to or not, and then convince her they belong together…forever.

  Vincent’s help comes with a steep price: Bronte must reveal her power. The inevitable ensuing witch-hunt and trial would be bad enough, but even a tough girl might buckle if her prosecutors are her own parents.

  On sale now!

  Chapter 1

  Bronte Casteel had eleven hours, ten minutes and five seconds before her Non-mage pass expired. Her nerves crackled like the groomed pea gravel crunching beneath her old Volvo’s tires. The car limped down the grand estate’s long driveway. She looked up at her cracked rearview mirror to see the gates closing behind her, locking her inside the den of the most potent mages in the country. Ahead, the gray stone mansion sat tall and proud. Its symmetrical wings sprawled to either side. Rallis Hall was as imposing and majestic as she remembered it.

  She passed beneath the arch of the gatehouse, circled the driveway, and parked the car. Its dimpled nose pointed toward the gates for a quick escape. She glanced at the plastic clock stuck to the dashboard. Her neck muscles tightened with every tick-tock of the second hand. Eleven hours, eight minutes. Her mother—a mage powerful enough to intimidate most of the Republic—had allotted just enough time for her powerless daughter to make the trip north, deliver the Casteels’ morbid message to Senator Rallis and scamper back to her assigned city.

  The ticking clock wasn’t her only problem. After all, the Rallises would likely kick out any member of the Casteel family in a flash of mage vibes anyway. And that was the best-case scenario. For Bronte, the worst case was much…well, worse. Burning to a crisp was as bad as she could imagine. She took a deep breath to loosen fear’s tight grip. Senator Rallis had no reason to suspect her of anything. To his eyes, she was nothing but a struggling Non-mage musician. All she needed was a little luck, the goddess’s grace, and a lot of poise, to pull this off.

  It wasn’t as if she had a choice. She either obeyed her mage sponsors or she’d be exiled from the Republic of Mage Territories forever. A chord of sadness rippled through her at the thought. Her soul would wither if severed from the enchanted music that existed only here. She craved the sound of the mages’ songs as much as she yearned to play them, though no mage would ever let her on stage. Mage citizens would never see past her true self, no matter how magical she could make her violin sound.

  Forging ahead her only option, she leaned forward to get the car keys. Her fingers brushed against them as a gentle whisper of mage energy spiraled into her. She recognized it immediately. Vincent. He wasn’t supposed to be here. She froze as her forbidden power reawakened and soaked up his blissful vibes, but terror overpowered the bliss.

  “No. No. No.” The denial puffed from her lips. Her pounding heart competed with the sound of her words. If she were the powerless non-mage she pretended to be, she’d never sense him.

  She dropped her head to the steering wheel, tense muscles creaking in protest, as the warmth of his vibes fed into her. His energy felt so familiar even after all those years. It touched her lightly, faint from the distance between them, but the bottomless pool inside her drew his vibes with a constant, steady strength.

  Syphon mages were long forbidden, now relegated to mere legends.

  But the death sentence still applied.

  She sucked in a hard breath of the car’s rapidly warming air, held it, willed his energy away. Her head drummed with the fruitless effort. She wished she could stifle her energy signature, something an average mage could easily do.

  Maybe Vincent wouldn’t sense her presen
ce. After all, she had spent her entire life without anyone else noticing her unique vibes. Her energy signature registered as faint as a black hole, a fact she knew thanks to a lifetime of insults from her family. Today her faint vibes were her only hope at getting out of here unscathed. He couldn’t reveal her secret if he didn’t know she was here. Her meeting was with the senator, not with the famous Colonel Vincent Rallis.

  She squinted through dark bangs for another glance at the clock. Eleven hours and five minutes. Her fingers itched to shred that darn pass into a thousand pieces. Her frustrated sigh seemed to blow against the second hand of the clock, speeding it along its circular path.

  She peeked at the rearview mirror, half-expecting to see Vincent dashing down the stone stairs, an army of mages behind him with a big stake. The only person around was a gardener mage, spying from behind one of the fat trees lining the drive. Bronte craned around to look at him. Even from this distance, the tuning spirals tattooed on his temple appeared dark and thick. The permanent circles channeled the universe’s energy into his sixth sense, providing more mage power than he naturally possessed.

  For his sake, she should get out of the car. It couldn’t be easy to keep the red and gold leaves of autumn neatly on their trees when they only wanted to tumble to the ground willy-nilly. The gardener wouldn’t dare let that happen in front of a guest. Autumn was too messy to tolerate for a powerful founding family. The unnatural trees gnawed at Bronte, their strangeness reminding her of the odd, new tune her songwriting partner had composed for her. Even now it grated against her ears. She’d changed Claude’s song onstage last night, improvised new notes in a disobedient but beautiful melody that sang from the strings of her violin. She’d get an angry earful the next time they spoke.