The Omen of Stones

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The Omen of Stones Page 30

by Casey L. Bond


  But I knew it wasn’t the words that had haunted her, it was my mother.

  “You promised to seek leniency, and yet you tighten the noose,” she spat.

  I didn’t tell her what I was thinking: that she didn’t deserve to live when the deaths of countless people were on her and her son’s hands. That if she lived her life in jail, she’d think of nothing but the death of the ones she loved. Or that death was a mercy in and of itself to her now that she’d lost everything worth living for.

  The last words she spoke were, “I should’ve drowned the three of you while I had the chance!”

  Her neck broke when the floor fell from under her feet. She swung for a few moments, and then the swinging stopped.

  River collected her soul for Fate.

  Sky, Lyric, River, and I sifted through the debris near Thirteen’s borders. After lifting countless boulders and piled rock over the course of many days, we found Sebastian Smith’s remains. He’d been crushed by rocks that lay at the mountain’s sharp summit.

  The rocks on top were always the strongest. They survived despite the weather, jutting into the sky farther than the rest. As such, they proved to be the deadliest for the one who defied and went after Fate himself. I recognized his hair and his gray, woolen coat. Covering my nose against the decaying smell of him, I gingerly removed the book from the inner pocket of the jacket he wore.

  I looked to Sky as we walked away. “You were right. Knowledge is power and ignorance a shackle, and none of us were born to live in chains. We’ll give this to Ivy.”

  River’s arm around my shoulders comforted me like nothing else could. Even the river. Even the stones.

  He was buried next to his adoptive father outside the borders of Sector Thirteen, in The Wilds where he belonged.

  37

  River

  Omen loved the night garden as much as I did. As I pushed her in the swing, she kicked her legs out when she soared and tucked them in as she came back to me, her tinkling laughter ringing through the garden.

  “Omen?” I asked, searching for the right words to convey what I needed to ask.

  She dragged her feet on the ground and stopped, spinning to face me and making the ropes cross one another. “What’s the matter?”

  “Do you want to be queen?” I asked carefully.

  Her mouth popped open, obviously surprised by my question. “Do you want to be king?”

  “I do, but not if it means losing you.”

  She smiled and let the swing unfurl, standing and wrapping her arms around my neck. “You could never lose me, River. Being King is part of your path, my love. One I’m happy to walk next to you on.”

  I nodded, unable to speak around the knot in my throat. Holding her tight, I sent heartfelt thanks to Fate and the Goddess for bringing my soul-mated, my love, into my life.

  Ethne once explained that soul-mated couples were rare, admonishing that some witches liked to pretend they were soulmates even though they weren’t. Now I knew why. This feeling was beautifully addictive. The magic knitted between us was so strong, even the weight of a mountain couldn’t crush it. So strong, death couldn’t end it.

  With her by my side, I looked forward to every other strand in the tapestry Fate weaved for us.

  The days slid by faster than water through an outstretched hand. Eventually, the celebrations died down and a calm ensued. A calm that everyone seemed not only to appreciate, but one that everyone needed.

  Soon, the days began to shrink and the chill of Fall crept into the air at night, the mornings carrying cool fog over the palace grounds. The Equinox was in just a few days. Omen and her sisters along with Lindey had been helping the witches get ready for the festivities, while I’d been helping my father with matters of state.

  In the evenings she would find me, and we spent hours talking about our days, discussing our dreams, and of course, kissing.

  I could kiss her for days and never grow tired of it.

  She knocked on my door and I spirited over to answer quickly, folding her in my arms and telling her how much I’d missed her.

  “The House is finished,” she breathed, her excited eyes dancing. “It’s magnificent.”

  “I can’t wait to see it.”

  She beamed. “Thought you’d never ask.”

  She took hold of my hand and spirited us to the porch of The House of Affinities. Inside, witches marveled at the stark white walls, the palpable magic sparkling within them. While I’d always been able to feel the magic and spells within the separate Houses, I could see it here. I could touch it.

  I reached a finger and swiped along the wall, my fingertip glowing from the contact. “It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen.”

  “The Goddess blessed it, as did Fate,” she said.

  Sky and Lyric approached, and Sky folded her arms. “I take it the Prince approves?”

  “Very much,” I told her, unable to think of a witty come-back to her snarky comment. Lyric smiled in response. I tilted my head, hearing her voice echo all around us, so faint I almost missed it. “I hear it,” I said.

  She grinned. Her slate was gone now, and her dress didn’t even appear to have pockets. She was still quiet and careful with her words, but she was no longer afraid to use her voice. Especially here, among her kind.

  “Ivy asked me to work with the witchlings,” she announced, watching Omen for a response.

  “They’re lucky to have you,” she told her sister, folding her into a hug.

  “They’re lucky to have me, too,” Sky laughed. “Apparently, I’ll be helping teach storm magic.”

  Could such an affinity be taught? I guessed time would tell.

  “That’s amazing,” I told them both. I was glad they’d chosen a place here, in Thirteen, among the witches, but I hoped the witches did as we suggested and stopped closing themselves off from the other Sectors, free to travel and enjoy the Kingdom as much as anyone else.

  Though habits were hard to break, they could be broken.

  Arron approached and said hello, eyeballing Mira from across the room. She acknowledged us with a nod, but soon spirited away. Were the two still fighting their feelings? I thought when she relinquished her position as Priestess and ran into his arms, this was all put behind them.

  “I need to speak with your mother, River. If you could give her the message, it would save me from delivering it myself.”

  I nodded. “Of course.”

  He thanked me and walked outside.

  The night of the Equinox, Mira came to my room with a dark suit draped over her arms. “This is the suit I told you about.” She waltzed past me to hang it on the door of the wardrobe.

  I thanked her as she swiveled the garment on the hanger to reveal the back of the jacket. It had been embroidered with fine golden thread; the image made my breath catch in my lungs.

  “You made this…before.”

  She nodded. “An image crept into my head and my lovelies brought it to life.”

  I let my fingertips slide over the bumps of shimmering thread, blown away by the intricate craftsmanship. Three peaks rose from the earth where a wide river flowed. She’d captured every stone and boulder in the stream, the churning, white rapids, even the game trails leading up the mountain’s face. Gleaming glaciers reflected the sun from above, a wall of cloud straining to swallow the sunlight, accented by forks of lightning piercing the earth. And all around, swirls of fog formed the barest shadow of bones.

  “It’s nothing short of amazing, Mira. Thank you.”

  She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

  “What’s the matter?”

  She shook her head and looked at her feet.

  “Arron loves you, Mira.”

  Her eyes snapped to mine. “He told you as much?”

  “He didn’t have to. It’s obvious to anyone
who can see. I’ve known how he felt about you from the moment I breathed. The two of you are meant for one another. Stop fighting it.”

  “I’m…not.”

  “You’re afraid,” I accused. “But you needn’t be.”

  She swallowed thickly, her eyes glistening with tears before she excused herself and walked from the room.

  Omen took my breath away. In a gown of gauzy natural white, she walked across the lawn toward me, lifting the skirts enough so I could see her bare feet on the grass. She smiled as she reached me, the wind toying with her glossy tresses. “You look handsome.”

  “And you look divine.”

  She beamed a smile. I turned to let her see the stitching on the back of my jacket and heard her breath catch. “Did Mira make this?” she asked, her fingers spreading chills over my skin as she traced the patterns.

  “She did,” I rasped.

  Her hand stilled as if she’d just realized her effect on me. I slowly turned, her hand drifting around me as if she couldn’t bear to let go. She reached into a pocket Mira’s spiders had artfully woven within the airy layers of her dress. “I have something for you.”

  Looking up sheepishly, she took my hand and unfolded my fingers. She placed something in it and I looked down to find a small stone on a string. “I know you chose ribbons for us, but I wanted you to have a small piece of me, too,” she whispered.

  A knot formed in my throat. I pulled her closer and kissed her temple, breathing in her sweet smell. “Thank you.”

  Omen nodded and pulled away just far enough to tie the leather cord that tethered the small hag stone, one with only two holes, to my wrist. Then she kissed me tenderly, standing on the tips of her toes, resting her palms against my jaws. As I lost myself in her, she spirited us into the Center of Thirteen.

  Whistles and cheers erupted around us. I laughed as she pulled away and waved to the crowd. “Already plucking the heartstrings of the people,” I mused. “And already Queen of my heart.”

  Omen’s eyes widened.

  Ivy broke the moment by gliding onto the porch of the House of Affinities and welcoming all to the Celebration of Unity on this, the Equinox. Some of the trees in the forest already glowed red, orange, and yellow in the fading sunlight. The wind tore at their leaves, plucking some and sending them tumbling across the lawns in an extravagant show of nature’s confetti.

  She spoke about the Houses, of the witch’s affinities, of the Goddess and of the Kingdom, and how we were all part of the greater plan that belonged to Fate. Her eyes found me and Omen in the crowd. “Tonight, we want to present a special union, blessed by Fate and the Goddess herself, the soul-mated – Omen and Prince River,” she announced, clapping as we made our way through the crowd with our hands tightly clasped.

  We stood in front of her as she blessed us. “Soul-mated pairs do not have to hand-fast. They were created for one another. But I understand that you would like to exchange ribbons.”

  I nodded and slid a long, silken white ribbon from my pocket. Ivy took it, then held it up and used her magic to guide the ribbon around our wrists, binding it as a vine would creep up a tree trunk. In another instant, the ribbon parted and each of us was left with half of it tied around our wrist. I would work to earn her love every day, I decided, not for a year. For as long as I drew breath.

  A tear slid down Omen’s cheek as Lindey watched from the edge of the crowd, standing with Sky and Lyric. My parents were beside them, along with Knox, Leah, and their new baby, Owen Tauren Nautilus.

  Sky’s eyes were hooked on something on the other side of the crowd’s edge. I followed her gaze to see their target, Brecan, and surprisingly, his gaze smoldered at her. She crossed her arms over her chest and looked away from him. Omen noticed the exchange and glanced at me with a slight shrug.

  “I give you the soul-mated,” Ivy announced. Omen and I raised our hands, our ribbons grazing as we stepped back into the crowd.

  “It is our custom to fast at the Winter Solstice, but exceptions have been made in the past and exceptions will be made this year. Does anyone else seek to hand-fast at this time?” Ivy asked.

  Brecan grinned at Sky and held up a single blue ribbon, pale on one end and fading to blue-gray on the other. She strode confidently across the lawn and gave a victorious smile. “I accept,” she said. The two were hand-fasted, their ribbon secured, and their one-year commitment accepted and blessed.

  Lyric shook her head as Sky threaded her arm into Brecan’s and smiled up at him, triumphant.

  “Anyone else?” Ivy asked, her tawny eyes scanning the crowd.

  “Mira,” Arron called out from the Center.

  The witches and citizens parted for him, opening like the sea to reveal her across the lawn, standing where the House of Water used to reside.

  “I will ask you this once, and only once,” he said. “Will you hand-fast to me?” He spirited to her, his slitted eyes meeting hers.

  Her chest heaved. I thought I saw her braids writhe for a moment. But instead of using words to accept him, she kissed him. It looked as if she poured every frustrated moment she’d experienced over the past two decades into it. When he bent her backward, Omen gasped as he kissed the column of her neck, down to the V revealing her chest.

  He tugged her to Ivy and held up a ribbon, velvet and pristine, the color of the deep part of the ocean and years of repressed feelings. Of yearning and restraint. The two were hand-fasted and quickly spirited out of sight. The gathered crowd laughed and cheered.

  Even Ivy laughed. “I declare the House of Affinities open and welcome to all!”

  That night, the magic in The Gallows flowed freely, easily, and more powerfully than I’d ever seen it. Witches were no longer separated, so they used and practiced their affinities together. Wind melded with flame, earth sprouted with water. Omen showcased her stone magic while her sisters showed off their abilities, Sky calling down lightning after conjuring a tiny cloud above her hand, and Lyric with a song that made everyone sway to its dark rhythm.

  Mom and Dad danced. They smiled. They kissed. They finally relaxed.

  I held onto my soul-mated and enjoyed it all, unsure what Fate would reveal to us next. Father suggested we be the ambassadors to The Wilds, exploring and mapping what lay beyond the toppled mountain. To find the good and extend our apologies, to welcome anyone who wanted to travel to Nautilus, even if only to visit.

  I asked him why he had the sudden change of heart, since he was ready to talk about me wearing the crown the night of my seventeenth birthday. In response, he clapped me on the shoulder and declared, “Your mother can rule for much longer than I will live, and the people…well, she’s already won their heart. Take this time to enjoy your youth, in or out of the Kingdom’s boundaries, with Omen.”

  My heart felt as if the tethers holding it down had been cut.

  We could go. We could explore. We could find out what lay beyond the Kingdom’s borders and return whenever we pleased. Our wings weren’t clipped by a thin circle of metal and the shears of responsibility and duty.

  It felt wonderful.

  Almost as comfortable as Fate’s warm solace sliding through my veins.

  Which was almost as wonderful as holding Omen in my arms.

  Omen, alive and beautiful.

  Omen, the other half of my heart. My soul-mated.

  The End

  acknowledgments

  I’m ever thankful to God for his mercy and blessings in my life. I have to thank my family for their constant encouragement, my friends for their support, and fans for loving my characters and stories as much as I do.

  A special thanks to Melissa Stevens for designing the perfect book cover, interior, map, tarot card and every other thing related to bringing this book to life visually. And thanks to Stacy Sanford for waving her magic red pen over my manuscript and polishing it beautifully. Thanks to
Stacey Rourke for making the book description shine. Thanks to Amber Garcia for being an amazing publicist. Thanks to Melanie Deem, Cristie Alleman, and Amber G. for beta reading both When Wishes Bleed and The Omen of Stones. The books wouldn’t be the same without you.

  And I want to thank each and every person who has taken the time to delve into this magical world, who loved it and wanted more. Thank you. <3

  about the author

  Casey Bond lives in West Virginia with her husband and their two beautiful daughters. She likes goats and yoga, but hasn’t tried goat yoga because the family goat is so big he might break her back. Seriously, he’s the size of a pony. Her favorite books are the ones that contain magical worlds and flawed characters she would want to hang out with. Most days of the week, she writes young adult fantasy books, letting her imaginary friends spill onto the blank page.

  Casey is the award-winning author of When Wishes Bleed, the Frenzy series, and fairy tale retellings such as Riches to Rags, Savage Beauty, Unlocked and Brutal Curse. Learn more about her work at www.authorcaseybond.com.

  Find her online @authorcaseybond.

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  also by casey l. bond

  When Wishes Bleed

  The Fairy Tales

  Riches to Rags

  Savage Beauty

  Unlocked

  Brutal Curse

  Glamour of Midnight

  The High Stakes Saga

  High Stakes

  High Seas

  High Society

  High Noon

  High Treason

  The Harvest Saga

  Reap

  Resist

  Reclaim

  The Keeper of Crows Duology

  Keeper of Crows

  Keeper of Souls

  The Frenzy Series

  Frenzy

  Frantic

 

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