Wearing his dark clothing, coupled with his drawn face and shadowed eyes, he hardly looked like himself.
“Hey,” I said as I stopped beside him, keeping the memory charm firmly in my grasp. We stood under an alcove. This far from the windows, the sunlight didn’t touch us. Only the memory charm gave off a faint gleam of soft ocher light.
He didn’t acknowledge me, so I plunged ahead. “My father gave me his memory charm,” I said, holding out the leaf pendant. “He released the magic to me, which means I have the ability to use it now. I guess he thinks I’m old enough to play with the big kid toys.” I laughed a little too loudly.
He didn’t laugh with me.
Smile. Please just smile.
“I think I’ve come a long way in my magical abilities. I’m getting good enough to use Earth magic without needing Faythander magic to aid me. Losing the magic wasn’t all bad, I guess, since it forced me to work harder.”
Still nothing.
“Anyway, I thought that with this memory charm, you could maybe come and visit Earth. I know you don’t remember your last trip there, so I thought, well… maybe—”
“Olive,” he said, his voice stern and a little too calm. “My place is here now. My role as king has taken me by surprise, and I have much to learn.”
“Oh… oh yeah, I understand.”
“Do you?” he asked, still not meeting my gaze.
“Of course! Yes. You have a great deal of responsibility now.”
Look at me. Please. Why won’t you even look at me?
“There are many things that must be done. Much will change with the goblins’ extinction. I must uphold our alliances with the elves and pixies. Borders must be redrawn. All will seek the Northlands as their own territory, and it will be my duty to ensure that the Wults’ northern borders stay secure. I must strengthen our alliances with the outer tribes. I must set an example of stability, starting with my own family.” He glanced toward Ket. “The death of my father has changed everything. Our alliances with the northern tribes will be in danger of breaking if I do not uphold them.”
“I see. So you do not wish to visit me?”
“No. I am afraid that whatever plans we made before will no longer be a possibility. If you’ll excuse me.” He turned, and his heavy footfalls echoed as he left the hall.
My heart shattered as I watched him go. I knew what he was saying, although I didn’t want to accept it. I stuck the memory charm in my pocket, its soft amber hue extinguished.
I couldn’t cry. Not yet. I would first have to accept that he was gone, and I wasn’t ready to do that. Someone cleared their throat behind me, and I turned to find my father. He gave me a slight smile.
“Hi,” I said, attempting to keep my voice even.
I walked with him back to the windows. He didn’t speak. It seemed as if every eye in the hall were focused on me. I hoped I was imagining it. Had they all seen Kull leave me?
I crossed my arms across my chest, feeling hollow and dead inside.
“Olive,” my father said after we stopped near the windows, “as you must know by now, the princess is the leader of the Gravidorum.”
“Yes, I gathered that when she announced it while causing the extinction of an entire race.”
He nodded slightly. “Then you must also realize that the with the goblins’ demise, the purpose of the Gravidorum is no more. The fight between the Caxon and the elves has ended, and my association with that faction has also ended.”
“I see. So what will you do now?”
He clasped his hands behind his back, his dark, braided hair glinting in the sunlight. He looked like his old self again. Actually, he looked better than his old self. “I will still maintain my position as head magistrate in Lauressa.”
“Sounds a little boring.”
He raised an eyebrow.
I sighed, wishing I could be free of the Wult fortress. I didn’t feel like having another tedious conversation with my father, so I decided to have an honest talk with him instead.
“Boring?” he asked.
“You don’t have any family. I assume that you’ve been too busy to make friends, and if by some miracle you have them, then you’ve never introduced them to me. You’ve only ever concerned yourself with work. But what have you got to show for it? When you go home at the end of the day, you have no one to share your life with—so yes. It sounds boring. And it sounds very lonely.”
Lonely. Right. Why was I lecturing him on loneliness when I would soon be returning home to my empty apartment? I pushed the thought aside. Besides, I had Han.
“I suppose you are right,” my father said.
I stared at him, feeling perplexed. He’d agreed with me? “I am?”
“Yes. I did not always intend to live my life in such a way, but when your mother left, I felt as if I had no one else. I felt as if I could never love anyone the same way I loved her. And I suppose I have fulfilled my own prophecy, for I never have sought after the affections of another.”
I felt the memory charm in my pocket—the charm he’d made so he could be with her. It didn’t feel right for me to have it now. Perhaps I’d struck out on love, but it didn’t mean that he had to do the same.
Reaching in my pocket, I pulled out the charm and gave it to him.
“Here,” I said. “Mom misses you. You should probably pay her a visit.”
He looked at me with questioning eyes.
“She’s lonely, too,” I said, sighing. “She lives by herself. I don’t visit often enough. And now that she remembers you, it might be hard to avoid her.”
He chuckled softly. “Yes. Kasandra was always quite stubborn. Much like her daughter. But when I gave you the charm, I intended for you to make good use of it. Is this no longer the case?”
I knew what he referred to, and I couldn’t meet his eyes, afraid that he might see the tears in my own, so I just shook my head. “Yes. It’s no longer the case.”
“Oh,” he said quietly. “I see. But perhaps if you waited for him—”
“No,” I said curtly. “I am not the sort of person to chase after someone once they’ve made their intentions clear.”
He nodded. “Then I suppose you are more like me than I realized. Olive,” he said gently, “do not give up too quickly. Love is not easy to find, and once you have it, you must never let it go.”
I almost lost it right there. How could you love someone if they didn’t love you in return? I swiped at my cheeks with the back of my hand.
“Good-bye, Father,” I said. “I will return to Earth soon. I have clients who need help, and my cat is probably feral by now.” My words came out in a mumbled mess, and I wasn’t sure he understood half of it.
“I understand. Perhaps I will see you there.” He put the chain around his neck and tucked the charm under his robes.
Staring out over the mountains, with the noonday sun passing its zenith, I decided it was time for me to make my exit. I found the nearest door and wandered the halls until I found the way out.
The air was crisp with a hint of spring in the wind. I made my way to an open field where the vibrant grass swayed in the breeze, the blades brushing against one another in a quiet hiss that echoed the fairies’ wings as they darted in and out, chasing one another.
Overhead, the sky was a brilliant blue with only a few cottony clouds high in the atmosphere. In my pocket, I ran my fingers over the carved scales of my dragon statuette. I’d called Fan’twar a little while ago, and soon I saw his familiar silhouette.
As he descended, my heavy heart lifted.
Fan’twar landed with a whoosh that made the ground rumble. Outstretching his wings, his leathery skin caught the sunlight. In the sun’s warmth, his scales dazzled a lustrous gold.
He was whole again.
“What took you?” I asked, teasing, hoping that humor made a good mask for my pain.
He growled and then shook his head, and his spikes made a clattering sound as they wobbled back and forth. “You ar
e still tenacious, I see, even after dealing with my island brothers.”
“Hmmph.” I grabbed a spike and climbed onto his back, his scales cool and smooth under my fingertips. “You could have warned me they were cannibals.”
“They are dragons,” he answered. “They eat whatever is most convenient.”
“Well, I hope to never meet up with them again if I can help it. Do you have any idea how frightening it is to be one’s dinner?”
“I have never been in such a position myself, although it seems you have fared well. You have learned much about the ways of magic. Soon, your powers will grow even stronger, young one.”
“Fan’twar,” I said before he took off. “I’ve been meaning to ask you for some time, but as of yet, I haven’t gotten a chance—what is the Deathbringer?”
“Aaah,” he growled. “Deathbringer.” He surprised me by laughing. “So you have heard?”
“Yes, but I have no idea what it means. It’s a prophecy, right?”
“It is a prophecy that speaks of you.”
“What?” I asked, shocked. “Why did you never tell me?”
“Because once a prophecy has been uttered, it will, sooner or later, be fulfilled. Whether you act on it or not, whether you know of it or not, a prophecy can never be frustrated.”
“But the prophecy says that I’ll destroy the world! Didn’t you think that was important to mention?”
He glanced back at me, golden eyes shining with specks of green and yellow. “Do not trouble yourself with prophecy, child. You are mine. You are loved. Your soul is pure, and your intentions have never been anything but honorable. If the world is to be destroyed by your hand, then I will die a noble death, knowing that you did everything in your power to save mankind before it happened. Do not trouble yourself with old sayings. Prophecy or not, your spirit will always remain true. I have never worried over your heart.”
I mulled over his words. He was right, of course. Would I ever willingly destroy the world? The answer was no. It would always be no. I wasn’t sure I could ever quit worrying about it, but at least I knew the truth.
“Thanks for believing in me,” I said. “That means a lot.”
He gave me a gentle smile. “Then I shall fly you home. The dragons are expecting you. Charl has prepared a meal as usual. I hope you are hungry.”
I couldn’t admit that I’d lost my appetite and would probably never find it again, but I gave him my best smile and waved him on. As he flapped his wings, my thoughts turned to the man I’d left behind. When Fan’twar leapt off the ground and soared into the sky, I couldn’t help but look back at Danegeld. The castle’s stones gleamed with a reddening glow as the sun drenched its towers.
My heart felt dead. I would never be the same without him. When Kull had left, he had taken my spirit with him.
Turning away from the castle, the view of the snowcapped, pink-and-lavender mountains made my heart feel lighter. Even in my worst hour, somehow I managed to find beauty, and someday, I knew I would discover joy again.
I’d never expected my life to be perfect. I could only hope that, once in a while, I would find happiness. And hopefully, more often than not.
Acknowledgements
First, I want to thank my publisher, Crimson Tree Publishing. Marya Heiman, Courtney Nuckles, Rebecca Gober, and Melanie Newton. You all go above and beyond, and I can’t thank you enough for all you do.
I also want to give a huge thank-you to my family. My husband David, my five kids (Phoenix, Sequoia, Bridger, Gabriel, and Ronan) my siblings (Andrea, Lorena, and Josh) my parents (John and Jane Hanks) have all been very supportive. Also, my mom and dad in-law, Dale and Nancy Grantham, and my sisters-in-law, Rachelle, Beth, Ilana, and Abby.
My ever-trusty beta readers, David, Beth, and Ann.
And I want to give a special thanks to everyone who has read any of my previous Shine novellas or Dreamthief. You took time out of your busy schedules to read and review my books, and it really means so much to me. I thank each and every one of you.
Last, I would be very ungrateful if I didn’t thank my Heavenly Father. I would not be where I am today if not for Him.
About the Author
Tamara Grantham was born and raised in Southeast Texas. She earned a Bachelor’s degree in English from Lamar University. After marrying her husband David, she followed him through his training to become a burn surgeon, which consisted of moving from Vidor, Texas to Galveston, Texas, then to Tulsa, Oklahoma, back to Galveston, and they finally settled in Wichita, Kansas. Tamara and David have five active, sweet, and almost always well-mannered children, ages zero to ten years. Their two pets, June—the Jack Russell Terrier, and Chester—a black cat, help to keep the house lively (in addition to the children.)
When Tamara isn’t writing or tending her children, she enjoys taking walks through the woods, eating chocolate, and very infrequently, she enjoys a good night’s sleep.
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If you are enjoying the Fairy World MD series by Tamara Grantham, we think you will enjoy On the Accidental Wings of Dragons by Julie Wetzel. Read an exclusive excerpt here.
Michael peeked up at the noise coming from the door. It had been the first sign of life in this hellhole since he had been chained to the wall days ago. Maybe someone was coming to let him out. Or even just give him a drink. God, he was thirsty. It didn’t help that he could see a small trickle of water sliding down from a grate to pool just a few feet away. Tucking away from his needs, he readied himself for some kind of action. He’d been through extensive training to deal with stuff like this. There were hundreds of things he could think of to help him escape; he just needed an opportunity.
The light from the hall cut a square across the darkness of the dungeon as the door swung open. Squinting against the burning glare, Michael watched as his captor threw something large inside. Without a word, they slammed the door and left. “Well, that went well,” Michael scoffed to himself. At least now he would have something to look at as he died of dehydration in a damp cell. Why they hadn’t just killed him outright was beyond him.
In the thin light from the small, grated window, Michael’s eyes searched the bundle that had been left. Was it something he could use to escape? It looked to be a wad or roll of some kind of fabric. Pulling against his chains, he tried to get closer, but his captors hadn’t left him very much wiggle room. In fact, they hadn’t left him enough chain to even sit down. If he stretched himself out, the toe of his right boot just touched the edge of the fabric. He tried to scrape it closer, but whatever was wrapped up in the bundle was damned heavy.
He had started to succeed in pulling some of the fabric loose when the bundle shifted. Michael froze as hope slammed into his heart. Could it be? Was there someone inside that bundle? His eyes reevaluated the mass. It could be the right size for a person, if they were small.
“Hey.” Michael’s voice cracked as he called to the bundle. He pulled against his chains harder and tried to poke it with his foot. Clearing his throat, he tried again. “Hey.” This time the bundle definitely moved. Michael stood back against his wall and watched as the cloth shifted. A split opened up, and a pair of delicate hands slipped free. His heart soared as the material pulled back and a woman rolled out.
She was the most exquisite creature Michael had ever seen. It wasn’t the dainty curls or the soft glow of her skin that made his breath catch, it was the possibilities she offered. His entire continued existence rested in her hopefully kind hands.
She let out a gasp of air and raised one of those delicate hands to her temple. Pain raced across her face as she curled onto her side, gasping.
“Are you all right?’ Michael asked, pulling against his chains. Mentally, he kicked himself as soon as the words were out of his mouth. Of course she was not all rig
ht. He could see the pain racking her body as she wheezed. He wanted to rush to her and comfort her. If he could just get out of these damned manacles. Racking his brain, he tried to think of a way to help her. The men who had captured him had taken his jacket and guns, but had they emptied out his pockets? He shifted against the wall, searching, hoping it was still there. “Hey,” he called to her again.
She lifted pain-filled eyes to him.
He shifted to show her the bulge on the side of his leg. “There’s a medic kit in my pocket.” It was only standard issue, but there was a dose of morphine in it.
The woman studied him for a moment before another wave of pain lanced through her. It took her a few minutes of deep breathing before she could unroll again.
Michael’s breath caught again as she pushed out of the material wrapping her. He had been right; she was the most exquisite creature he had ever seen, but this time, it wasn’t her potential he noticed.
The gold and bronze of a sleeveless ball gown hugged her shapely frame as she forced herself part of the way up from the floor. Her porcelain skin was flush with pain, but even that didn’t distract from her beauty. Unable to find her balance to stand, she crawled over and flopped down next to him. She pressed her back into the cold, stone wall and looked up at Michael. He could see the question in her eyes.
He nodded at his pocket. “There are painkillers in the kit.”
She studied him again before reaching up and pulling the nylon pouch free. Rummaging through it, she found the pills and swallowed them down without the aid of water. After a few more deep breaths, she leaned her head over and rested it against the side of his leg.
God, she felt good. Her heat seeped through the canvas of Michael’s pants, warming him. Tilting his head back against the wall, he closed his eyes and waited. The morphine would kick in soon to ease her pain, but she would probably pass out from it. That meant a few more hours until he could get that drink he so desperately needed. Rubbing his tongue on the roof of his mouth, he tried to work up some saliva to tide him over. He turned his mind to the woman resting against his leg.
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