Daphne’s jaw clenched. “Oh, I will change it.” She vowed. “Right or wrong, I’m going back and rewriting the whole script. With or without you, it’ll happen.” She pulled out the big guns. “But if you help me, can make sure you come out on top this time.”
“We don’t know what will happen without the war. Your plan will change everything. That future could be worse for a lot of people.”
“It won’t be worse for me.” Daphne retorted. “And really, I don’t see you giving up much beyond your precious hut, so what’s the downside for you? No matter how you look at it, we’ll be helping to stop genocide and death. How could that be a bad thing? It’s heroic.”
Zakkery puffed on his cigarette and thought about that.
“Honestly, even if things did change, change could be good. Especially for you. We can change whatever you want, however you want. You can become High Seat of the Council, for all I care. I’ll help you. Just help me.” She leaned forward. “Come on. Yes or No: If I could get back to the day Job dies, would it be possible to change things?”
Smoke colored eyes met hers for an endless moment, weighing her.
Daphne held her breath.
“Yes.” He said simply.
She smiled. “Then let’s talk about Chason, of the Magnet House and his Match.”
…And just like that Daphne changed history.
Sneak Peek
Here’s a preview of the next book in the Elemental Phases’ series:
Queen of the Magnetland
Prologue
Believe that you have died today and that your life's story is over,
And henceforth regard what future time you are given as an unpromised gift.
Marcus Aurelius- “Meditations”
Mara died on a bright sunny day, surrounded by the ugliest wallpaper in the universe.
She’d always hated the subtle vertical stripes that encircled her bedroom. The former queen had selected it, no doubt inspired by the perpetual gloom of the Magnet Kingdom. Grey on grey, the wallpaper was tasteful, and elegant, and about as warm as a jail cell. It was like being in a cage.
A badly decorated cage.
For sixty-seven years, Mara had been Matched to Chason, first the prince and then the King of the Magnet House. For sixty-seven years, she’d either been preparing to become the queen or wearing the crown. And for sixty-seven years she’d hated looking at that wallpaper.
Every decade or so, someone would replace the old grey stripes with new grey stripes. Each time, Mara would make a face at the hideous bars and not rock the boat. She’d allowed her domineering father-in-law and the stifling Magnet House traditions to rule her life.
That had been a huge mistake.
She should have rocked the boat more, not less.
For sixty-seven years, Mara had tried hard to be a perfect queen. To be what everyone wanted. She should have painted her bedroom amethyst or orchid. She should have burned all the massive, uncomfortable furniture in a bonfire and gotten a cushy chaise to read on. With pillows. Purple pillows. Purple was her favorite color. She should have concentrated on being happy. She should have just been Mara.
Maybe then, Chason would have smiled more.
Maybe then, they would have had a better relationship.
Maybe then, she wouldn’t have to die surrounded by the most hideous wallpaper in creation.
Maybe, maybe, maybe.
At the end of her life, Mara realized that “maybes” just plain sucked.
It took a tremendous effort to lift the notepad off the bed beside her. She wasn’t even sure why she bothered. It was pointless to keep a “To Do” list, since she only had a few hours left to live. But, she still felt the bizarre compunction to keep track of all the things that she wanted to accomplish. Deep down, Mara had always been an optimist.
For one of the few times in the one hundred and sixty years she’d been alive, she was experiencing total clarity and she wanted to record it.
Mara picked up the lavender colored pen and added another “should have” to her inventory of regrets.
Number thirty-one: Redecorate bedroom.
She squinted down at the jagged letters for a beat and then added an exclamation mark. Her handwriting grew worse and worse as the list grew longer.
Fever ravaged her insides even as chills shook her body. The notepad fell against her chest, as another round of racking coughs overtook her. The deathly rattle nearly cracked her ribs and her lungs burned like they were on fire. She almost didn’t mind the pain, though, because it proved she was still alive. Far scarier was the blankness she felt waiting on the other side of the physical misery.
Mara closed her eyes.
Her strength was fading to the point so she couldn’t even hold a pen without extreme effort. She could see her skin shrinking against the bones of her hand. The coughing and the pain in her head. The shivering and her aching body. Optimist or not, Mara saw the stark truth barreling down at her.
Darkness was closing in.
Very soon she’d die from this plague. Over the past five days, she’d seen so many others succumb. Her cousins, her subjects, her friends, and even total strangers. So many Phases that the universe could never recover. More people than Mara could even count.
For a woman who’d never had an enemy --who’d spent her life trying to be what everyone wanted-- it was hard for Mara to comprehend that she was dying in a war.
Released by Parald, of the Air House as revenge against the Council and the Water House, the plague had slipped beyond anyone’s control. It was careening through the Elemental ranks, pushing them to the brink of extinction. And if the Elementals fell, the rest of the universe would go down with them.
This illness would wipe out everything before it was done.
The Fall.
One tiny germ could erase the entire world.
Since the beginning of time, the Phases held together the interconnected processes of nature. The Elemental Houses supported everything from Gravity to Fire to Time. Nothing could survive without them. If the Fall wiped out the Elementals, it would wipe out all of existence. Everyone and everything would go out like a light.
Mara’s ebony colored eyes slid over to the overwrought armchair on the other side of the room.
Her cousin Kahn slouched in its hideous depths, his huge boots stretched out in front of him, his blond head slumped at an awkward angle. His large body barely fit on the seat and his handsome faced stayed creased with strain even in sleep. It was the first time he’d closed his eyes since the beginning of the Fall. He’d nodded off while watching over her, pushed to the limits of his endurance.
Love and sorrow filled her.
Kahn, of the Light House.
The only cousin she had left.
Just a few days before, she’d had seven. Kahn and his six sisters. Kahn had raised Mara and the girls by himself, after their parents had all died in various pointless ways. Now, the girls were gone, victims of the plague. Victims of the war.
Kahn and Mara had been at the bedside of each of the girls when they died. Livinia succumbed first, on the second day of the Fall. Syllia and Aggie followed on the third day. Then, Roma, Tonia and Prinny all perished within the next twelve hours. Their deaths happened so fast, one on top of another, so that Mara hadn’t been able to process one girl leaving before the next one faded away.
Prinny had held on the longest. She was the youngest sister and had always been so full of life. Of course, she’d want to stay as long as she could. The horrible stillness after her breathing stopped was deafening. By that point, Mara had fallen into a numb shock. All she could do was hold her cousin’s small hand and listen to the silence where Prinny had once been.
But Kahn had… shattered. Watching his baby sisters fade away destroyed something inside of him. Something Mara feared would change him forever.
Kahn seemed immune to the disease, but the Fall was killing him just as surely as it had wiped out the girls. He’d given everythin
g he had to sisters. Everything. Kahn could never recover from this heartache. And Mara’s death would only make it worse.
Mara was so worried about what would happen to Kahn after she was gone.
Even if the Fall didn’t erase the entire universe, who would look after a man like Kahn? He pissed off everyone he met. No one but his sisters and Mara ever saw the softness beneath his grouchy exterior. Who would Kahn even let close to him, now? How could he survive if he was left completely alone?
Mara picked up the notebook again and added number thirty-two to her list.
Find Kahn a Match.
Her hold on the pen was so weak that the ink barely made an impression on the page. It was only a matter of time, now. Soon she’d slip into the coma that came before death. Soon she’d go to sleep and never wake up.
It wasn’t fair.
There was so much that Mara still wanted to accomplish. So much that she hadn’t done, yet. Mara gathered her strength and pressed forward.
Number thirty-three: Visit the Color Kingdom. It was so beautiful there. At least, it was in photos and she’d always meant to go see it for herself. Why hadn’t she found the time?
Number thirty-four: See Singin’ in the Rain. Why had she never seen Singin’ in the Rain? She’d always meant to. She loved musicals so much. All the stupid films she’d watched over the past decades and she’d never seen Singin’ in the Rain. It was insane.
Number thirty-five: Have child.
Tears welled at that one. She’d more than just “meant to” have a baby. She’d wanted one desperately. A little version of Chason and herself to love.
And now it was too late.
Mara blew out a long breath. She didn’t want to spend her last few moments of life being miserable, but anyone on their deathbed had the right to be a little maudlin.
Number thirty-six: Dance with Chason.
They’d danced on their Phazing Day. The Andrew Sisters sung I’ll Be With You in Apple Blossom Time as Mara and Chason danced into the night. She’d been so happy. Why hadn’t they danced more? Why hadn’t she fought harder to get through to him? To free him from his shell?
Number thirty-seven: Convince Chason to fall in love.
Why hadn’t she made him really love her? She’d tried little things, but she’d been so scared to rock the boat and push him passed his comfort zone of tepid propriety. Too scared to fight. She’d settled for too little. She’d let him settle for too little.
They could have been so much… better.
Mara could hear Chason in the hallway, arguing with the latest doctor he’d scrounged up. Her Match wasn’t a quitter. He was obsessed with finding a way to cure her. Mara was touched by that. It sort of surprised her that Chason was so attached to having her around.
He paid no attention to the scores of medical professionals telling him that it was hopeless. Every time a doctor insisted that there was no cure for the Fall, Chason would just throw them out and find another one to interrogate.
Only all the doctors were dying off, along with the rest of the Phases.
Chason was down to the last one. And Salamis, of the Weather House wasn’t even a real doctor. He hadn’t graduated from med school, yet. The kid was inexperienced and terrified. Not just of the Fall, but of Chason.
“But… But… There’s nothing that I can do, sire. There’s nothing that anyone can do.”
“If you can’t help, then get the hell out!” Chason roared in a completely un-Chason like way.
Mara tucked the notepad under her pillow and struggled to sit up. Chason was always so… perfect. So generous and proper and good. Yelling at some poor medical student, probably dying of the Fall himself…? It wasn’t like her Match. But, Chason was so upset.
Of course, he was.
They were connected. If she died, she could hypothetically pull him down with her.
Mara was one of the lucky Phases who’d found her Match early in life. For Elementals, there was only one special person whose energy could combine with their own, forming one symbiotic whole. Their Phase-Match was their other half. Mara had met Chason when she was very young. When they’d finally Phazed, she’d believed that the rest of their lives would be one long happily-ever-after.
Only things hadn’t turned out that way.
Most days that made Mara terribly lonely, but it was turning out for the best. If Mara died –When she died-- Chason would go on. He seemed immune to the Fall. Provided that the universe didn’t crash like the Hindenburg, Chason would survive. So often, when one Match died, the other one followed. That’s what had happened to her parents. But, Mara and Chason had never been that… intertwined. Even when they Phazed, there was always that little bit of distance between them.
Besides, in human terms, they were still newly-weds. They lived very separate lives. He would be okay without her. Mara was sure of it.
And that meant more to her than anything.
Mara wouldn’t want live without Chason. Better that he be the one to survive. He could endure and go on. He could still have a life. Hopefully, he’d make the most of it and try to be happy. He deserved that.
Chason slammed back into the room loud enough to jolt Kahn awake.
Her normally immaculate Match looked even worse than Mara did. He was usually such a handsome man. Not preoccupied with his appearance, but always spick and span just because of his studious personality. Now, his purple eyes were bloodshot, his dark hair sticking up as if he’d been running his hands through it repeatedly. He hadn’t even shaved. Chason always shaved. He was incredibly neat and tidy.
“You’re supposed to be fucking watching her!” Her neat and tidy Match bellowed at Kahn. “What if something happened and you were asleep, you moron?! Is watching over Mara boring you? Is that it?”
“Chason.” Mara got herself up on her elbow and gaped at him. In sixty-seven years, she’d never heard her Match say “fuck.” Or any oath, really. He was always so polite. Her throat was raw from coughing and it hurt to talk, but pure astonishment gave her the strength to scold. “Don’t shout at Kahn. He nodded off for two seconds because he’s been awake for days. You’ve both…”
“Don’t you say a fucking word about how I look after my cousin!” Kahn was on his feet and advancing on Chason, cutting Mara off. Kahn’s swearing was par for the course. Mara had been listening to him roar out four letter words since birth. “You’re been in here half-an-hour total since she got sick. So don’t play the devoted…”
“I’ve been looking for a goddamn doctor, while you were taking a nap!”
“Bullshit. You’re avoiding the truth, because you can’t deal. If there was a way to cure this disease, don’t you think I would have found it when my baby sisters were dying?! You’re in so much fucking denial…” Kahn stopped short, his eyes cutting over Mara in horror.
Poor Kahn.
Mara almost laughed. He was gigantic. A Light House warrior with a sword strapped to his body at anytime of the day or night. But, he was a social idiot. Philologically incapable of saying the right thing.
“Shit.” He sounded appalled. “Mari…”
“Don’t be a dimwit, Kahny.” She gave him a smile and tried to stifle another coughing jag. “I’ve already noticed that I’m dying. I’m pretty clever about things like that.”
“You’re such an asshole.” Chason hissed at her cousin. “She’s not going to die. And it’s your fault she’s sick, in the first place. She went to the Light Kingdom to care for your sisters and she caught this fucking plague.”
“That’s not true. I wanted to go home.” Mara put in. “I wanted to be with my family.”
To Mara, the Light Kingdom would always be home.
Most Phases were born into their mother’s House, so technically Mara should have been a Light Phase. Her powers should have revolved around Light and the stripe in her hair that designated her House should have been black.
Instead, she had a purple streak at her temple and all her energy came from Magneti
sm. Mara was part of the small percentage of people who followed their father’s House. She was a Magnet Phase, whether she liked it or not.
Mostly, she didn’t like the Magnet powers.
But, Mara made the best of things.
She always tried to make the best of things.
Mara had been raised in the Light Kingdom, spending a few weeks a year in the Magnet House, so she could get to know it. When she came of age, Mara came to the Magnet Kingdom to live permanently. She was the Queen of the Magnetland, now. But, the wilds of the Light Kingdom always had her heart.
If she could have, Mara would’ve asked Kahn to bury her next to his sisters in the endless jungle of their homeland. Mara would much rather spend her eternity in the Light House, her body decaying and becoming part of the soil that fed the rainforest. The three hundred foot tall trees forever growing around her. There was a type of immortality in that. A sense that she’d be remembered and go on.
However, Mara knew that even suggesting it would lead to conflict. Kahn would try to take her body home, but Chason would stop him. Mara didn’t want a fight. Chason was a stickler for tradition and formality. All the Magnet Phase Queens were buried side by side in the cemetery, in a neat orderly row. Even their grey stone tombstones matched.
Jesus.
That should be number thirty-eight on her list. Don’t get entombed in that dismal graveyard. But, in order to fix that regret, she’d have to go back and somehow not Phaze with Chason. And, even if she somehow magically could, Mara would never undo their Match.
She loved Chason.
They didn’t have the storybook romance that she’d once dreamed of. She and Chason only saw each other a few minutes a day and even those moments weren’t exactly fairytale material. Usually, she just felt like an imposition in his life. Someone foisted on him by Gaia, when he should have been Matched with a legitimate princess.
Treasure of the Fire Kingdom (The Elemental Phases Book 4) Page 35