The Second Talisman: (Book II of the Elementals Series)

by Marisol Logan

  Now, she could hardly comprehend how close they had become in such short time, and now, she felt like she had always known him. In a way, with all of his workings in her mother's life, for her oblivious childhood benefit, she had.

  Now she was a different person. Better, possibly. Stronger, smarter, and stripped of any innocence she may have kept intact before. While Strelzar represented that change, she did not have to take him with her to keep the new version of herself. As she slid her arm through the sleeve of the fur coat, the hard metal of the new talisman rubbed against the bones of her wrist. She had known all along she would leave—that is why they made them, so she would leave and take her new strength with her.

  “Stunning,” Strelzar said, after watching her in silence the whole time she dressed. “Ravishing. I guess I had better leave this garment alone?” he teased with raised eyebrow and curling lips.

  “I suppose you should,” Veria responded.

  “Does dear, old Master Strelzar get a kiss goodbye from his favorite student?” he propositioned in a playful tone. Veria crossed the distance between the wardrobe and the worktable in determined, agitated strides.

  “You are no longer my Master,” she objected, and she stopped right against his chest and locked eyes with him. “You have nothing left to teach me.”

  Grabbing him by the neck with one hand and the jaw with the other, she pulled him into a passionate parting kiss before he could form a witty retort. His arms wrapped around her and held her in their vice, and her heart pounded as he groaned in carnal approval, and they both battled for breath in between the osculation.

  She would have had as much of him as she could take, but just as she did not belong to him, he did not belong to her. When they separated, he licked his lips, savoring the taste of the moment.

  “Someday,” he said, matter-of-factly, “you will thank me for this.”

  Veria pulled herself from his grip and made her exit. “Thank you,” she said as she reached the door that would lead her from his chamber.

  “Ah, see! Starting already,” he exclaimed.

  “For this,” she said, turning back to him and gesturing to the new attire.

  “Well, you know what I always say: One must look one's best when making lesser men cower.”

  -XIII-

  The trek down the mountain was tiring, frigid, but surprisingly liberating. Veria thought she would be more saddened by her departure from Plazic Peak, but she realized she was going back to her life—this time she would be in control. This time, things would go her way.

  One stop before, though, she thought, as the small cabins on the outskirts of the town came into view. Several of the cabins looked warm and inviting, squares of glowing light spilling out of the windows into the gray haze of dawn and smoke bubbling out of the chimneys, carrying with it aromas of breakfast.

  But one cabin, tucked back behind a cluster of trees off the main road that went into the town, was completely shut up and showed no signs of life at all. And that is where Veria went, veering off the brick road without pause. She knocked on the door, with no hint of nerves, and heard shuffling behind the peeling, rotting door instantly.

  “Yes?” came a gruff, raspy voice.

  “Open the door,” she ordered, “Strelzar Plazic has sent me.”

  “Ha! I do not know who you are,” the voice barked, and then the door jerked open, “but you cannot lie to me—”

  Sarco Pyer froze in the doorway, staring at Veria in bewilderment, but with definite recognition. And Veria did not need to confirm the man's identity either. Thought the hair was silver in his age and wrinkles framed his face, looking at the man was like looking at her mother.

  “Via...why—why are you here?” he asked.

  “I....” she realized she did not know why she had decided to come, she just had. When Strelzar had told her the whereabouts of her grandfather, she knew she had to see him, but she did not know why.

  “You should come in,” Sarco offered, and Veria stepped into the cold, tiny cabin. Tiny glass lanterns of elemental flame hung from every nook and cranny in the room, providing a decent amount of light, but thick black drapes covered every window, trapping it inside. “You were studying with Strelzar?” he asked once he had shut the door behind her.

  “In a way,” she answered.

  “I never studied with the man. He only takes the best, like Tani,” he said, a hint of paternal pride softening his scratchy chords. “You must be very a very skilled Fire Mager, like your mother.”

  “I am skilled, yes, but not a Fire Mager,” Veria said.

  Sarco's eyes narrowed in confusion. “I knew Plazic was arrogant, but I would never have ventured that he felt he was knowledgeable enough to take on pupils of other elements.”

  Veria laughed. “He is even more arrogant than that,” she said with a sly smile.

  “Then your primary element must be Earth,” her grandfather sighed, with no attempt to mask the disgust he had for it, “like that over-privileged dimwit your mother married.”

  “My father,” Veria reminded. Sarco grunted to suggest he did not care.

  “He got what was coming to him,” he muttered. Veria did not flinch. “And what about you? Have you given up your life to marry some rich idiot yet?”

  “Never,” she answered.

  “Wonderful to hear that,” he nodded sharply in approval. “It is just terrible that you had to be burdened with such a useless skill set. You will never have any real power with that silly truth nonsense.”

  Veria ignored his remarks—she had expected them. “I should tell you that you have a great-granddaughter,” she said, and Sarco's thin, gray eyebrows jumped up his creased forehead.

  “With....?” he jerked his head in the direction of the craggy peaks just beyond the town.

  “No. No, no, no,” Veria refuted. “With some rich idiot I decided not to marry.”

  “And is she....?”

  “She is very young still, so I am not sure if she has any powers yet,” Veria answered, not having to hear the rest of the question to know exactly what her elemental elitist grandfather wanted to hear. “You should....come visit some time,” she added softly. “She looks a bit like Tanisca, actually, but with dark hair.”

  “Like Mitala,” he cooed in reverence. Sarco was speaking of Tanisca's mother. Then, he snapped out of his fond memories and shook his head. “I could not. Your mother and I...she did not enjoy my guidance in her life, my opinions on her decisions. She would not be pleased to see me.”

  “You let me worry about Tanisca,” Veria said. “And if you want to come visit, you come.”

  “You are not worried that I am dangerous? Surely, you know what I did to get Red-listed.”

  Veria did not know, and at this point, she hardly cared. Sarco may not have been the best father, or person for that matter. But all she saw in that moment was a man who was alone.

  “I can protect myself, and my family. You have been sitting in this cabin for almost twenty years. If you wanted to hurt someone, you would have by now,” Veria said. “You are family.” The word resonated with her more than it really ever had, and she suddenly felt sick and empty, wanting to be back home with her daughter, and her mother who had become such a part of her daily routine in the past year, as soon as possible.

  “Family,” Sarco nodded. “I never felt like I really had one.”

  “I know,” she whispered. “They can be hard to come by.”

  “The rigs are all usually hired out within an hour of daybreak,” he mumbled, distracted and lost in thought. “If you want to get on the road today you should go.”

  Veria nodded and walked to the door. “I do have one question,” she said, turning around to face him. “How would you have raised me? If I had come to live here when I was little?” she asked.

  “Well, that is simple. I would never have let you live with me—why would you have come to live with me?” he asked.

  Strelzar...did he make the story up just to get h
er to leave? Surely he could not have lied to her. Or did she miss it because she was caught off guard?

  Maybe Sarco did not know about the possibility of her living with him because Tanisca never actually discussed it with him. But, her mother was not the kind of person who did not plan ahead, so it seemed unlikely. There was only one way to find out—talk to her mother, who would definitely have quite a lot to say about her excursion to Plazic Peak.

  “I look forward to your visit, Grandfather,” Veria said as she walked out the door. And she very much did, because as much as she loved her mother, she wanted to see Tanisca be the one to receive unsolicited guidance from someone for once.

  The travel home was dull, and seemed to take longer coming home than when she had gone. One solid day in the coach, a short night of rest at a small lodge in Dranspor, then a few more hours until they reached the castle where she was informed the road South to Bermedge had been washed out in sections and was too muddy. She had to take the final stretch of the journey alone, on horseback, cold, miserable drizzle spitting in her face the whole way.

  When she arrived home at the first hint of dusk, the smell of baking bread attacked her from the kitchen, and she chose to enter through the back door instead of the front, as she usually did. When she entered the kitchen, however, she was surprised to see that it was not occupied by the cook and maids, but by her mother and daughter. Irea sat on the floor, happily playing with dough, while Tanisca minded the bread in the oven.

  “Veria!” Tanisca gasped when she saw her.

  “What are you two doing in here?” Veria smiled, crouching down to the floor to kiss Irea on the head, marveling that she had learned to sit up on her own in just the short time Veria had been gone.

  “She likes it,” Tanisca sighed. “Just like you. I have not the slightest clue why she does, but she likes it. And with her fever, I—she has been so miserable I am doing whatever it takes to just keep her from crying. Playing with dough in the kitchen is easy enough, I suppose.”

  “And you making bread?” Veria asked, raising in eyebrow at her obviously flustered mother.

  “It is all she will eat,” Tanisca answered. “And what else am I going to do while I am in here?”

  “The fever is....”

  “Turqa does not know,” she shrugged. “It comes and goes.”

  Veria kissed her daughter's forehead again, brushing away the tight black curls that always covered it, and felt no warmth on her lips. Irea babbled happily, and motioned to Veria to be picked up and held, which she obliged.

  “It appears to be gone now,” Veria stated, hoisting her daughter onto her hip and wrapping her arms around her.

  “I am so glad you are back, Via,” Tanisca said, walking up to her and placing a hand on he shoulder. “Really, I am. I mean, not that I could not handle Irea on my own, but, she needs her mother. And I missed you.”

  “Becoming a grandmother has made you sentimental?” Veria teased.

  “Sentimental, no. Practical, maybe. If I did not get some intelligent adult conversation soon, I was going to start burning things for entertainment,” she explained, and they both chuckled softly. “Speaking of adult conversation.....”

  “Mother—”

  “Where were you?” Tanisca asked. “I sent out several rounds of messages, and never got a response from anyone except Daloes, who assured me you were on his errand and could take care of yourself. The last round of messages was fairly desperate and went to a few last resorts.”

  Veria swallowed hard. She had to tell her. She could not lie to her mother—it was the same as giving a detailed confession. She could just stay silent and not say anything...or maybe she could lie. She felt the bracelet, the edges pressed into her wrist from the weight of Irea in her arms. But she did not need to lie to her mother.

  Family, she thought. They were hard to come by. And she and her mother had never seen eye to eye, but her mother took care of her, and took care of her daughter without the slightest moment of protestation—and took care of her better than Veria could herself. Tanisca deserved to know everything.

  “You have to tell me—does this have to do with the letter? With your father?” Tanisca pressed.

  “Yes,” Veria answered.

  “You were at Plazic Peak,” Tanisca sighed, as she apparently put the correct information together in her head.

  “How did you know?” she asked.

  “Darling,” her mother shook her head, “have you looked at what you are wearing? That dress. That animal hanging off you...”

  Veria looked down and was reminded of the luxuriant silky black dress, and could feel Irea patting the fur of the coat in curiosity.

  “Do you realize you have been gone for eight days?” Tanisca asked, her eyes narrowing and arms crossing in maternal judgment. Veria shook her head. “No stretch of the imagination is needed to fathom what happened for at least six of those days. You do know—”

  “He is two hundred and twenty something years old and a compulsive philanderer? Yes,” Veria cut her mother off.

  Irea wiggled impatiently in her arms, so Veria placed her on the floor where she picked up the dough and began pounding it happily into the floor.

  “That is not what I was going to ask,” Tanisca said.

  “Then you were going to ask if I know that he slept with you when you were his student? Yes, I knew that as well. I knew that before I went up there. I also know that you wanted to go back and study with him after I was born, and he told you no.” Veria was not sure if that was even the truth, but she said it anyway.

  Tanisca's eyes went wide. “I—”

  “Did you know that he relocated your father to the town so that, in the instance you decided to drop me off with Grandfather Sarco, he could keep watch over me?”

  Tanisca was silent for a moment, and obviously taken aback, her groomed brows furrowed and red lips pursed. “I did not,” she finally said.

  “I am not mad,” Veria said.

  “Oh, well that is wonderful to hear,” Tanisca snapped. “Always taking the high ground. Your persistently merciful nature is infuriating.”

  “I am not mad because I would have done the same thing,” Veria continued, ignoring her mother's outburst. “I wanted to stay. I would have stayed. If you had not sent that message, I think...”

  “Why on earth would you stay, darling?” Tanisca asked, puzzled. “He is a nice man to spend a week with but you could never be his apprentice.”

  Veria grinned in mischievous satisfaction. “That is where you are wrong, Mother,” she said.

  “I do not understand what you mean, Veria,” Tanisca shook her head. “I think maybe you did not get enough sleep on your trip,” she spat.

  The energy of the elements in the kitchen was so familiar to Veria, within seconds she had pulled a small, unlit lantern off the wall by the worktable. She let it hover over her right hand, the glass glinted with the light of the fireplace.

  “Oh, please spare me your hard elemental show,” Tanisca sighed, rolling her eyes. “I haven't the time for this. The bread will burn.”

  Then, Veria felt Strelzar's fire in the bracelet, and it filled her with a satisfying internal flame. The fire in the kitchen roared and called to her, practically screaming and hissing in her ears. She locked on and pulled at it until a ball of fire shaped and emerged from the rest of the flames. As her mother watched in awe, with dropped jaw and wide eyes, Veria let the flame hover over her left hand for a bit, before moving the lantern and the flame toward each other, until they were one.

  “Veria...” Tanisca muttered, as if it were all that she could muster.

  The wick in the lantern took to the flame, and Veria sent it back over to its hook on the wall.

  From behind them, Irea clapped and cheered with joy, then flopped forward into giggles. Veria smiled, but Tanisca continued to stare at her.

  “You should have stayed,” she said finally.

  “What?” Veria laughed. “You sent messages to everyone
you know trying to hunt me down—not three moments ago, you were ecstatic to have me back because you missed me and my daughter needs me, and now you say I should have stayed?”

  “Via, this is incredible—what you and Strelzar have done—you should have stayed! You could have become the most powerful Mager in the world, Via!” Tanisca grabbed her arms and squeezed them, shaking her a bit as if it would instill her with some sense. “You have to go back. You have to go back and insist he take you on as his apprentice. I will watch Irea, as I have been. She will be just fine, and you will be back before she even starts lessons—”

  “Mother!” Veria cut her off, and grabbed her arms as well. “Mother, listen to me. I defeated Strelzar in a multi-elemental duel. I mastered the skill of desire in a day.”

  “You—what?” Tanisca's arms dropped from their grip on her daughter.

  “There is nothing else he can teach me. Both of us are in new territory now, and we are going to have to figure it out on our own. There is no precedent, no lesson book, for blending elements.” She squeezed her mothers shoulders reassuringly. “Besides, what good is all this power if I am just going to sit in a cave for a hundred years? Hm?”

  Her mother's red lips curled and split into a beaming grin.

  “Now that is something I would say,” she announced with pride.

  “I know, and I am a little afraid that I said it,” Veria mumbled, and they laughed.

  “You beat him?” Tanisca asked.

  “I beat him. I threw sparks at him, and made one of the dragons from his statue fly over and pin him to the ground,” Veria detailed with a smirk.

  Tanisca laughed out loud. “I am the proudest I have ever been in my life,” she chuckled. “Still a little concerned that we have both laid with the same man—”