Whispers of Heaven (Saga of the Rose Book 1)

by Krista Rose

  “Yes.”

  Great-Aunt Amandine had joined us without our notice. “You’re the boy who is in love with Felice? The one courting her?”

  Tanner nodded, his hands trembling. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Her gaze was steely. “Tell us what happened.”

  “She was supposed to meet me two nights ago, but she didn’t. I thought she was at home. I went to see her today, but her father thought she was with cousins. They thought she was with me.” His voice dropped to a whimper. “She’s gone.”

  Great-Aunt Amandine turned, pointing to one of the other blankets where our teenaged cousins had gathered. “Breccan, I need you to fetch Rett and Mychael immediately. Irvin, I need Tamsen here, as soon as possible. Greagor, find Jaryd and Rylen. We need to organize a search party, and I need every Rose in the Manor by sundown.” She glared when they gaped at her. “Go!”

  They scrambled, taking off at a run for the stables.

  “Please, Brannyn.” Tanner clutched at my tunic, his eyes wild and frightened. “Tell me she’s alright.”

  I swallowed, wishing I could lie to him. Baedon’s glassy eyes stared through me, mocking. “I don’t know.”

  He collapsed against me, weeping.

  REYCE

  The search party was organized with ruthless efficiency. The Dragon questioned everyone about Felice’s location; when no answers were forthcoming, she assigned everyone to a quadrant, sending them back out into the night to search for our cousin.

  I remained at the impromptu headquarters in the manor’s salon, marking off the searched areas on the map our uncle Mychael provided. I leaned over it, pretending to be absorbed as I eavesdropped on the quiet conversation behind me.

  “I’m worried, Mychael.” Great-Aunt Amandine’s confident mask slipped for a moment, revealing the fear beneath. “Felice is a good, sensible girl. She wouldn’t hide like this on purpose. She would have left a note if she was going to run off.”

  “I know,” Mychael murmured. He shot a look across the room, to where Brannyn sat with Tanner, trying to keep him calm as Lanya offered him tea. “I’m still not convinced it doesn’t have something to do with him.”

  “Tanner is a good lad, and he loves Felice. Whatever your personal feelings about him, he would never have hurt her. And she would never have left without telling him.”

  “What if she tried? What if she tried to leave, and told him, and he-”

  “Don’t finish that thought, Mychael. It’s not him. I saw his face when he told us she was missing. That boy is terrified. You can’t pretend that kind of love, or fear.”

  “If you say so.”

  “Did you notice someone else was missing tonight?”

  “Who? Farius?” He snorted. “He never shows up for these things, Aunt Amandine.”

  “He always said that Felice was his favorite niece. Now she’s missing, and he can’t be bothered to take part in the search for her? Don’t you find that odd?”

  He shrugged. “I would, if Farius had anything resembling human emotion. He’s just a bag of wind. We don’t need him.”

  “Maybe.” But she didn’t look convinced, and when I glanced up, I could see the fear in her eyes before the mask came down again.

  Amandine doesn’t think we’re going to find her, I told the others. She thinks something’s happened, and Farius is involved. I peered down at the map. Kryssa, you’re searching his house, right?

  Yes, but he’s not here, either.

  Have you found anything?

  Maybe. There was a pause, and I sensed she was crawling through something. She cursed. You’re not going to like this.

  What?

  She sent us an image, waxen dolls, carved in familiar, grotesque images. Farius wasn’t an atheist. He was worshipping the Elder Gods.

  Kylee began to swear.

  Then why is Felice missing? Alyxen asked, confused. What would Farius want with her?

  Best guess? Kryssa sounded disgusted, and afraid. The same thing the Crone wanted with you and Kylee.

  So- what? Brannyn looked at Tanner, his thoughts full of dread. We think Felice was a sacrifice, so Farius could become immortal?

  Maybe.

  Should we tell Tanner? Lanya asked hesitantly.

  No. Brannyn’s voice was firm. He’s been through enough. Until we find proof, we’ll just label them both as missing.

  But-

  Just finish the search.

  Kryssa’s thought were gentle. We’ll take Tanner home with us. He shouldn’t be alone right now. I caught another glimpse of the shrine Farius had made, and felt Kryssa fight her nausea. I’m going to destroy this.

  How?

  She smiled grimly. Brannyn’s not the only one who can set fires.

  ALYXEN

  3 Emberes 578A.F.

  My brush rustled as I dipped it in the paint. I was nearly finished with my miniature castle, carved all of one piece, and planned to start on the furniture for it the next day. The pieces would be kept in the drawer cleverly concealed beneath the painted moat- a dream gift for the young daughter of the merchant who had commissioned it.

  The workshop was quiet and empty. Staell, my employer, had left for the day, heading home to spend time with his pregnant wife. I didn’t mind; in fact, I preferred it. There was still no sign of Felice, or Uncle Farius, and so Tanner was still staying with us. For three weeks now he had been sleeping on a pallet in our room, and the apartment was crowded and clustered and chaotic on the best of days.

  My time in the workshop was my only time alone.

  I carefully painted the tiles of what would be the throne room floor, trying not to think of my cousin and the awful fate which might have befallen her, or the haunted, desperate look in in Tanner’s eyes.

  The workshop door creaked as it opened, pulling me from my thoughts. I lifted my head, frowning, expecting to see the mashed, misshapen face of Staell, and blinked in surprise to find a woman carefully closing the door behind her. She was tall, I noted immediately, with raven-dark hair that cascaded down her back. Her skin was flawlessly pale, and her body voluptuous beneath a low-cut black velvet gown.

  I would have called her beautiful, except that when she turned to look at me, her face was twisted with a derisive sneer, marring it. Her eyes were golden, and burning with hate.

  I swallowed, my blood turning to ice. “Can- can I help you, madam?”

  She didn’t answer at first, walking slowly toward me as she glanced around at the shelves of brightly-colored toys and neatly stacked games. She trailed long, slender fingers over the painted face of a cloth doll, and I saw that her nails were tipped in black-gold paint. “Such clever things,” she crooned, drawing closer to peer at my castle. Her fingers lifted the hidden drawer, and she smiled, though there was no warmth in it. “Aren’t you a clever boy?”

  I sat, frozen and speechless as her eyes flicked up at me. She ran a finger down my cheek, and I shrank from it. Her eyes darkened at my reaction, streaks of red appearing in her irises, though her voice remained gentle. “Tell me, clever boy, where is the Voidmaker?”

  “Voidmaker?” I repeated, trying to breathe around the words choking me. “I- I don’t know what that is.”

  Her hand slid around my neck, and I was suddenly lifted, slammed into the wall behind my desk. My ribs ached with sharp pain, my feet dangling several inches above the floor despite my height. I gasped, scrabbling at her hand.

  She smiled at me, vicious and mocking. “You shouldn’t lie to me, you know.”

  “I- I’m not lying,” I managed, clutching her wrist.

  “Of course you are. Your kind always does- at first.”

  “My kind?”

  “Mortals. Such fragile things,” she murmured, staring at me as if I were a particularly interesting insect. “You all think you matter, that your life has meaning, but you’re like weeds, growing without rhyme or reason. You choke out all that is beautiful in the world, and then you blame others for it. You destroy without purpose, without t
hought.” Her hand tightened, and I struggled for air, prying at fingers that might as well have been made of stone. “Why would you matter? Why would you be important?”

  I stared into her red-streaked eyes, terrified.

  “I’ll ask you again. Where is the Voidmaker?”

  Her hand loosened, and I gulped in air. “I-” I coughed, my throat raw. “I don’t know.”

  Her eyes flashed, the red streaks burning. “Tell me!”

  “Let him go, Shirae.”

  The raven-haired woman dropped me, and I fell to my knees, coughing and clutching my throat as she turned toward the door. A second woman had entered the shop unnoticed. I blinked, the tears in my eyes confusing me, so that for a moment I thought the woman was Kryssa. But no- her red hair was a lighter color, bound with gold chains, and her skin was covered in a smattering of golden freckles. Her eyes were blue, not green, and filled with irritation as she scowled at the woman she had called Shirae.

  “Ah, there you are, my dear.” The raven-haired woman smiled, but the look in her eye was murderous. “I was wondering when you would drop by to save your pet.”

  “You know the rules. It isn’t time yet.”

  “I was just testing,” she protested innocently. “I wanted to make certain you weren’t cheating.”

  The redhead’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t need to cheat.”

  “Don’t you?” Shirae purred a laugh. “I know I would.”

  “I’m not you.”

  “No, you’re not. More’s the pity.” She walked forward, her voice dropping so that I had to strain to hear. “Come, dear, you can tell me. Don’t you want to give your Destiny a tiny push?”

  “No.” Her voice was flat. “I just play my part. When the time comes, he’ll make his choice, just as it’s foretold.”

  “You would risk everything on these-” her lip curled as she glanced back at me “-accidents?”

  “Yes.” She pointed. “Now leave.”

  The dark-haired woman gave her a vicious glare, but started toward the door.

  “Oh, and Shirae?”

  She glanced back.

  “Give my love to Father, won’t you? I hear you still stop by to see him. I would hate for him to think I’ve forgotten him.”

  The look Shirae gave her could have boiled ice-water, but the redheaded woman merely smiled, and Shirae muttered something dark beneath her breath before slamming out of the shop.

  The redhead approached me, offering me a hand to help me to my feet. I took it, my legs strangely weak, my breath burning past the bruises in my throat. She offered me a glass of water, and I gulped it, unwilling to ask where it had come from.

  I wiped my face on my sleeve. “Who are you? Who was she? What’s the Voidmaker? Why am I supposed to make a choice? Why-”

  She laughed, a sound like the chiming of a glass bell, cutting off my questions. “Come, now. You know I can’t answer all of that.”

  “Why not?” I demanded.

  “Because that is not the way things are done.”

  “Rules?”

  “Rules,” she agreed, and shrugged at my incredulous look. “I don’t make them, but I do abide by them.” She sighed. “I need to go. You shouldn’t tell the others about this. They aren’t ready.”

  “Ready? Ready for what?”

  She patted my cheek. “I will see you another time.” She turned away.

  “Wait!” I reached out, though I didn’t actually touch her. “Just answer one question.”

  She glanced over her shoulder, brow raised.

  “What choice am I supposed to make?”

  She smiled. “What question must we all answer?”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “No. You’re not ready to.” She walked to the door, opened it, and then hesitated. Her eyes, when she looked back at me, were clouded with something I couldn’t name, though it looked like fear. “Be careful, dear one. And look out for- look out for the others, alright? When you live too long in the darkness, it can become difficult to find the light.”

  “What-”

  She stepped out the door. “Goodbye, Alyxen.”

  “Wait!” I chased after her. “How do you know my name?”

  But the street was empty. She was gone.

  6 Emberes 578A.F.

  “Elias, have you ever heard of the Voidmaker?”

  He blinked at me, frowning, his fork paused halfway to his mouth. His eyes looked bruised, exhaustion and worry carving deep lines into his face. “No, I don’t think I have. Why? What is it?”

  “I don’t know.” I stared at my plate. I had decided not to mention the women in my workshop, though I didn’t fully understand why. But the name Voidmaker had rung in my head like a bell for days, and I was desperate to know what it was. “I just heard it somewhere and was curious, that’s all.”

  The conversation around the table trickled to a halt, and I glanced up, intensely aware of the empty chairs on either side of me. Tanner and Brannyn had been called in for watch, and so weren’t able to join us for our Starsday dinner. Though it meant I had more elbow room, it also meant I couldn’t hide behind them when every eye turned toward me.

  “What was the name again?” Eloise asked, her brows drawing together thoughtfully. Kryssa had finally convinced her to do something with her hair, so that it was no longer in her eyes but framed her face, and she was surprisingly pretty beneath it.

  “Voidmaker,” I repeated, flushing. I did not have a problem being the center of attention, but the secret of the strange women in my shop burned on my tongue, and I worried if they stared at me too long I would blurt it out onto my plate.

  “Voidmaker?” Eloise’s eyes widened. “Savranagaud?”

  “What?”

  “Savranagaud. The closest translation would actually be ‘Godbreaker’, or ‘Voidrender’.”

  “But what is it?” I persisted.

  “It’s a very old myth.”

  I scowled at her, waiting.

  She caught my look and blushed. “Oh, sorry. Um, right.” She cleared her throat. “Voidmaker, or Savranagaud, is supposedly a blade created by the first Darkmage, a thousand years ago. You see, the other Elementi- Firemages, Watermages, and so on- didn’t come into existence until the War of the Gods five hundred years ago, but Darkmages have been around much, much longer.”

  “I thought Darkmages weren’t real?” Reyce piped up, before shoving a biscuit in his mouth.

  “It depends on which source you go through.” Eloise shrugged. “A lot of them argue that Dark isn’t an element, that it’s the absence of Light rather than its opposite. Others say that Dark is the balancing element, but it is easier for its Mages to become corrupted.”

  “So Darkmages are evil?”

  “No, but many people think they are. That’s why Dark is called the Unspoken Element.”

  “Is it just because of the name?” Kryssa wondered, raising her brow. “Because people hear ‘dark’ and think evil?”

  “Probably. I’ve never been able to fully understand it. The books are a little vague.” She looked at me, cleared her throat. “Anyway, the first Darkmage created Savranagaud and offered it to Naitre, the Goddess of Love, as a weapon against the Elder Gods. It was so powerful even Naitre was afraid of it, and made the Darkmage hide it. It’s been missing for a thousand years.”

  “Everything sounds more impressive when you add a thousand years,” Kylee muttered.

  “But what does Voidmaker do?” I insisted, my brows drawing together.

  “I don’t know. No one does.” She smiled faintly. “Not for a thousand years.”

  “Oh.” Damn.

  “You alright, dear heart?” Kryssa was watching me, one brow raised. “You seem… disappointed.”

  “I thought there would be a better story behind it,” I admitted. “Something with a name like Voidmaker is supposed to have a good story.”

  “You want to hear a good story?” Elias sat back in his chair with a grin. “Have I ever told you
about the time my brother accidentally adopted a vicious, man-eating bunny?”

  BRANNYN

  13 Emberes 578A.F.

  I received a summons from Chanach.

  The messenger who delivered it said it was urgent, and so I left the others at our Grandfather’s, enjoying our somewhat awkward family visit, and made my way to the guardhouse. The afternoon was pleasant and warm, though I spotted storm clouds to the east, and knew we would have rain by midnight.

  Tanner and Elias were both inside when I arrived, waiting for me. Chanach looked up from a report on his desk as we approached, frowning. “We’ve been waiting. What kept you?”

  “Sir?” I asked, confused.

  He shook his head, ignoring my question. “Old man Herrill hasn’t been seen for the last few days. His neighbor reported him missing this morning. The three of you are going to investigate.”

  I opened my mouth, then caught myself. “Yes, sir.”

  “I know it’s your day off, Rose, and I’m sorry for it. But we’re stretched thin as it is. You three are the only ones I can afford to send.”

  Elias shifted, glancing at me. “Sir, do you think this might have something to do with Baedon’s murder?”

  “Or Felice’s disappearance?” Tanner added, his eyes lighting with painful hope.

  Chanach’s face tightened at his nephew’s name. “I’m making no assumptions,” he said carefully. “Herrill lives alone on his farm, no wife, no children. He could have fallen ill, or gotten hurt. It is your duty to see that he is alright.”

  We all straightened. “Yes, sir.”

  He waved a hand, dismissing us, and we headed outside to the guardhouse stables. Three horses had already been saddled for us, and we mounted, heading out of town before turning northwest onto a dirt track. Elias led the way, Tanner and I following close behind as the fields of corn rose up around us and spread out toward the horizon like a brown-green sea.

  The farmhouse finally loomed up out of the fields, backed by a wood of tall, whitish trees. The house was broken and derelict, its roof caving in from its own weight. Paint peeled from the warped walls; the windows were broken and dark, like the mouths of hungry, neglected beasts. Ivy had claimed one side of the building, and weeds choked through the rotten steps leading to the front door.