Stone and Crow (Veiled Kingdoms: The Lost Fae Book 1)

by Stella Snow

  Stone & Crow

  Veiled Kingdoms: The Lost Fae

  Stella Snow

  Steel Fox Media LLC

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Make a Difference

  Prologue

  The light of a lone lantern flickered against the rough-hewn walls. A woman paced the length of the windowless room that had been carved into the base of a tree, humming softly to the small bundle cradled in her arms. Blonde hair fell limp over her hunched shoulders. She was thin––too thin––for having just given birth and her green eyes were dimmed by the dark circles around them. The ghost of a once-beautiful woman.

  Her eyes strayed to a small, black bag on the ground near the make-shift bed. Gnawing on her lip, she knelt in front of the pallet, hands shaking as she lay her daughter down. She’d barely been able to keep food down since she had given birth, despite the ever-present hunger she had endured for months on the run. It had taken its toll.

  Pressing a soft kiss to her daughter’s forehead, Alleassa gazed at her sleeping face as she drank in every detail. A week with her daughter was too little time, but more than she’d ever dared hope for. She hadn’t named the girl yet––part of her didn’t want to since she couldn’t keep her. There were so many things she couldn’t keep now. This had all started with a selfish mistake, but she hoped she had redeemed herself. She hoped her daughter wouldn’t have to bear the burden of her choices.

  Alleassa pushed a sweaty lock of blonde hair from her face and stood straight. This had to be done. There was no time left for regrets. Her stomach still churned in fear as she reached for the Stone. She hated touching it; hated that it existed.

  Even hidden away in a bag, she could not shake her awareness of it. With trembling fingers, she tugged open the drawstring and dumped it out onto the table. It rolled a short distance before coming to a stop. The Stone cast a bloody red glow over the entire room. Dark tendrils curled around its jagged, ruby surface like fingers.

  Steeling herself for the discomfort, she picked it up. A rush of magic surged up her arm as it sensed her intent. It was eager to be used. She stared at the powerful relic with open fear as doubt seeped into her mind. Perhaps this was the wrong choice.

  The baby stirred, letting out a displeased grunt at being awakened. Innocent green eyes met Alleassa’s and all the doubt flowed away.

  “Hide her,” Alleassa whispered, letting her will mix with her words and magic. The Stone shuddered in her hands and an awful power filled her. For a moment, she was tempted to leave her daughter here and go face her enemy. Perhaps with this she could kill him. Every cell in her body ached for a chance to try.

  Gritting her teeth, she willed the magic into submission. It was hers to direct. It would not control her. Alleassa opened her mouth to repeat her direction, but darkness spilled out instead. It fell from her lips like a heavy fog and curled around the baby.

  Magic burned through her arms, chest, and face as she drew on the power of the Stone. It poured more and more into her until she was sure her body would fly apart. She tightened her grip on the relic. Its sharp edges dug into her palm as she fought it for control. It contained more power and magic than anyone should ever wield.

  Hide her, she chanted in her mind, clinging to that one thought as a lifeline. A painful jolt of magic lifted Alleassa’s hair on end, rising higher until it crested in a thunderous boom that rattled the room and startled the baby into crying.

  She dropped the Stone and pulled her daughter close, searching for any sign of injury. The darkness had dissipated, but its presence clung to the child’s skin like oil. Her hand stilled as she brushed over the side of the baby’s head. The baby’s ears were round. Her skin had dulled. Alleassa took in the changes in shock; her baby looked human.

  The door to the room slammed open. Magic surged to Alleassa’s fingertips, ready to attack as she put herself between her daughter and the threat, even though she knew it was most likely Salathia.

  A green-haired woman burst through the door, then stopped short. Her skin was dark brown, and her eyes shone bright gold in the dim lighting. Salathia glanced around the room as though she expected to see someone in there with them. “What have you done?”

  Alleassa scooped her daughter up and faced the last person she could still call a friend. “I hid her.” She nodded toward the Stone where it lay on the floor. “But I need you to take her to the other side of the Veil. It’s the only chance I have to keep my husband from finding her and killing her.”

  “Allie, we can stay ahead of him. We’ve stayed alive this long, haven’t we?”

  “Please, Salathia,” she said, holding the baby out for her friend to take. Salathia hesitated, then took the squirming bundle. “Take the Stone as well, just remember what I told you about it. You can’t use it.”

  “What about you?” Salathia asked as she held the baby tightly to her chest.

  Alleassa smiled. “I have to distract them for a while to make sure you get away.”

  “Then you’ll come to the other side of the Veil as well?”

  “Of course,” Alleassa lied. She brushed her hand across her daughter’s head one last time, her green eyes filling with tears. “Call her Melodie.”

  Chapter 1

  Melodie leaned back in her seat and stuck her hand out the window of the truck as they rumbled down the highway. Violin music played on the radio as her long, delicate fingers danced against the air upon an imaginary fingerboard. Her black hair was tangled on the top of her head in its usual messy bun. From the outside, she looked serene as the late afternoon sunlight played across her tanned skin. On the inside, she was anything but.

  “Are we almost there?”

  “Yes, the house is just outside this town. We’ll be there in twenty minutes,” her grandmother reassured her.

  “Finally.” She stretched in her seat, her body stiff after so many hours in the car. It had taken them three days to drive from Illinois to California. Her grandmother hadn’t let her help drive despite having gotten her license two years ago, so it had taken longer than it needed too.

  Melodie glanced at her. She seemed like she was in a pleasant mood today. Now was as good a time as any. “Grams, I, uh, need to borrow the truck tomorrow.” Melodie twisted her finger in the hem of her shirt to keep herself from fidgeting too much.

  “What could you possibly need the truck for?” Grams reached over and turned the radio down. It was interrogation time.

  “I have a job interview,” Melodie blurted out. Her face heated and she hoped Grams wasn’t going to be too mad.

  “You don’t need a job. We have the money to pay for college and whatever else you want,” Grams said in a familiar, hard tone. Normally, Melodie wouldn’t have pushed it. This would be the point where she would say okay, and stop arguing, but she had promised herself she wouldn’t do that this time.<
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  “I want to work this summer. I don’t know anyone in this town so I’ll be bored if I don’t have something to do. Besides, the experience will be good later on when I’m trying to get a job,” Melodie said all in a rush. She had had this conversation in her head countless times already and the words sounded rehearsed as they tumbled from her lips.

  Grams stared straight ahead, one hand on the steering wheel, one hand resting on the edge of the window, fingers drumming slowly. “Who is the interview with?”

  “Big Dale’s Custom Cabinets.” Melodie twisted in her seat to face her grandmother. She hadn’t expected to get this far. Her heart was beating out of her chest.

  “I don’t like that you kept this from me. It’s my job to protect you, and I can’t do that if you keep secrets from me.”

  She’d heard that almost every day of her life. No secrets. No lies. Grams was paranoid. And not just normal paranoid––the woman was practically certifiable.

  “I just wanted to make sure it was even possible before I asked you about it.” Melodie flopped back in her seat and took a deep breath. “Besides, I figured you’d say no if I didn’t have something concrete set up. Like you did last time.”

  The silence stretched out far past what was comfortable. Melodie waited for further chastisement but, instead, her grandmother sighed.

  “Part-time work, and if you get the job, you have to text me when you get there and when you leave. You take your lunch with you every day, no eating out.”

  “Okay, that’s fine. I can do that.” Melodie grinned before Grams could change her mind. Half-shocked and half-giddy, she couldn’t believe she’d actually gotten a yes.

  “What time tomorrow is this interview?”

  “It’s at three.”

  Grams pursed her lips. “Try to get as much unpacking done as you can beforehand.”

  “Yeah, of course,” Melodie said.

  Grams nodded at Melodie, easing the last of the anxiety she had about the conversation. Her grandmother was really okay with this. It was a miracle.

  “We’re here,” Grams said as they turned down a narrow driveway that ended in a paved area just big enough for two cars. It was a good thing they only had one truck because it took up more than its fair share of the space.

  The small, white cottage had bright blue shutters and a white picket fence around the front yard. The garden was overflowing with weeds, and the grass needed to be mowed, but the house looked welcoming despite it all.

  “It looks even better than the pictures.” Melodie leaned her head out the window.

  “We picked a good one,” Grams agreed with a nod. “Stay in the car, I’ll be just a few minutes.”

  Melodie nodded in resignation as her grandmother climbed out of the truck. The paranoia was getting worse lately. She always had to go inside first to check things out, sometimes even if they’d just been gone all day––something she hadn’t done since Melodie was a child. What was her grandmother even going to do it there was an intruder? Sometimes she wondered if they were on the run, but she couldn’t imagine who would be after a sixty-year-old woman and an eighteen-year-old girl who hadn’t ever done anything exciting.

  Melodie had never told her any of her friends about her grandmother’s superstitions either, not that she had any real friends since they moved so often. She also wasn’t allowed to leave the property after dark because then she ‘wouldn’t be protected’––whatever that meant. She’d stopped believing her grandmother walking around the edge of the property, and muttering under her breath, could do anything to protect anyone when she was eleven.

  Growing both bored and annoyed, she hopped out of the truck. This part of northern California was beautiful. Trees covered the rolling hills, transforming it into an emerald sea. She took a deep breath, turning her face up toward the sun. It felt good to be out of the city.

  After a long three minutes, her grandmother stepped back onto the front porch and waved for her to come inside.

  “Look around if you want, then come help me unload,” Grams said after Melodie got up to the porch.

  Melodie stepped inside. She had left the front door open, but as usual, hadn’t turned on the lights or opened the shades yet. Melodie felt around for the light switch and found the right one after accidentally turning on the porch light and a fan.

  The floors were a light wood and the walls were the usual white. The kitchen had bright blue tile for the backsplash, white cabinets, and porcelain knobs with seashells painted on them. Whoever decorated had not shied away from a beachy theme even though they were more than an hour’s drive from the nearest beach.

  She walked down the hall to the bedroom that overlooked the backyard. It was smaller than her last one but had an attached bathroom. Plush carpet and fluttery, white curtains framing a large window made for an inviting space. Once Melodie had decided where her bed was going to sit, she ran back out to the truck to help before her grandmother dragged her outside.

  Grams tugged the back of the moving trailer open as she approached. “You like it?”

  “Yeah, it’s been a while since we’ve been out of the city. It’ll be a nice change.”

  They worked up a sweat over the next couple of hours as they emptied the trailer. Grams, despite her age, was hard to keep up with. Melodie hoped she could age as gracefully.

  Unpacked boxes were stacked in every room, but the beds were set up. They always kept the essentials and a few changes of clothes in a backpack ‘just in case’, as Grams put it, but it also meant they could take their time unpacking.

  Melodie looked up to ask her grandmother something, but she wasn’t in the kitchen anymore. She went to the window overlooking the backyard. Grams was walking the perimeter, arms outstretched. Melodie rubbed at the prickling along her arms; she always got goosebumps when her grandmother did weird things like that. With a sigh, she turned back to the boxes.

  Chapter 2

  Sunshine pouring in the window warmed Melodie’s face. Despite her exhaustion, she smiled. A sunny day had to be a good sign. Classical music trumpeted from her phone, shattering the early morning quiet. With a huge yawn, she stretched and tapped the off button on the alarm.

  Grams rapped her knuckles against the door as she walked by. “Come help me with brunch.”

  Rolling out of bed, Melodie threw her long hair up into a messy bun on the top of her head. It was too tangled to mess with before food.

  The journey to the kitchen had her stepping around half-unpacked boxes her grandmother had been attempting to unpack this morning. Despite how often they moved, Grams always insisted they keep everything with sentimental value. They’d ended up with an eclectic mix of mismatched knick-knacks.

  Her grandmother was leaning against the kitchen counter mixing pancake batter.

  “Can we add chocolate chips?” she asked, laying her head on her grandmother’s shoulder and smothering a yawn.

  When she wasn’t stooped over, Melodie was a good three inches taller, but then again, Grams was only five-foot-one. They were a study in contrasts. Young and old. Thin and plump. Melodie had long black hair, while her grandmother had snowy white hair, always kept neatly arranged in a braided bun. Her grandmother had always told her she had her mother’s hazel eyes and full lips but must get everything else from her father. Melodie often sighed at whatever man gave her the flat nose she didn’t think fit with the rest of her face.

  “If you can find them, we can,” Grams said with a smile.

  Luckily, only a half a box later, she found them buried under a package of noodles. “Got them!”

  She dumped half the bag into the batter then started eating a handful while her grandmother began cooking the pancakes.

  “You’re going to ruin your appetite.” Grams swatted at Melodie with the spatula.

  “Nonsense, I can never ruin my appetite for pancakes.”

  By the time the pancakes were all cooked, buttered, and stacked in a steaming pile on their plates, Melodie’s stomach
was growling in earnest. She dusted them with powdered sugar and dug in.

  “Excited for your interview this afternoon?” Grams asked with a tight smile.

  Despite the nerves, Melodie nodded. “I’m a little nervous, but yes.”

  “Why? You never got nervous for your violin recitals.”

  “I’ve never been to a job interview before.” She trailed the tines of her fork through a melted chocolate chip on her plate. “And I knew I was good at violin, there was less to be nervous about.”

  “Well, I’m sure you’ll do fine,” Grams said before taking a bite of pancake. Melodie followed suit and tried to drown the butterflies in pancakes and milk.

  The rest of the morning was spent unpacking the kitchen. The clock kept her distracted; she wasn’t sure if she wanted time to go faster or slower. At one p.m., she finally stopped unpacking and went to get ready.

  Her full-length mirror showed a girl in well-fitted black slacks and an indigo blouse. It looked completely wrong on her––like she was playing dress up in an adult’s clothes. Sighing, she tried a different shirt, then another. Then a different pair of pants, and then another. Ten minutes later, she ended up in the original outfit and stomped off to the bathroom to fix her hair.

  With her hair tamed, she put on mascara and some lip gloss, and practiced a smile in the mirror. Her mother’s necklace, the only thing she had of hers, hung a few inches below the hollow of her throat on a slender silver chain. The bright, green gem glinted in the sunlight streaming in through the bathroom window.