The Ghost, The Dragon, and The Lost King (Fated Chronicles Book 4)

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The Ghost, The Dragon, and The Lost King (Fated Chronicles Book 4) Page 37

by Humphrey Quinn


  “Well, thanks. It’s weird, but I’m starting to get used to finding out just how much people held back from me. Heck, even Nona, my loyal Catawitch found out who Bird was, before I did, and did not tell me it was Sebastien.”

  “Now that, actually, surprises me.”

  “Nona claims it was best that way. She understood why Sebastien was hiding out. And he was helping me, and she claimed if discovered too soon, he would no longer be able to do that, and her first concern…”

  “Protecting you,” understood Ivan. “Well, sorry,” he apologized, for his own part in all of it. “There will be no more secrets from me. I can promise you that, Meghan.”

  “Ivan, if I shut down everyone who lied to me, I’d be alone. Like, super alone.”

  “All I can promise is, never again, Meghan. At least not on my part.”

  “I know, and that’s all I can hope for from anyone at this point. And I’m trying very hard not to be bitter about it. Some minutes and seconds are easier than others.”

  “So, I suppose all of this inevitably takes us back to our mother, and Aloyna?”

  “Yup. And even though I do need to see them, my father has been so many steps ahead, I have to wonder if I’m still playing his game. You know?”

  “An unfortunate possibility, however, I genuinely believe you caught him off guard when you freed his mother. So maybe not all hope is lost.”

  “Not much of an endorsement, but I suppose it doesn’t matter. I can’t stay locked up in here for the rest of my life.” Meghan got to her feet and dusted herself off. “Do you need some time to get ready?”

  “No. Already said my goodbyes. To Maria only, though. I suspected we would not be sticking around for too long. What about Sebastien?”

  “I want him to come too. If he wants to. I’m not sure what will happen, but it will be nice to have a little backup. And Nona can take us there in a snap.” Although she was nervous about seeing Sebastien. He’d obliged her requests for being left alone. Somehow though, she guessed he was never very far away.

  “Oh, um, not that we need even more to think about,” Meghan stopped him before they made it outside. “But remember my vision, the one in which I kill my brother?”

  “With my help,” remembered Ivan glumly. “Yeah, that one is pretty much branded into my brain.”

  “I had it again,” Meghan explained.

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. It was different this time. Kind of like when I was having the ones of Jae, and each time they were essentially the same, but sometimes something new happened. Or slight changes took place.”

  “So what changed?”

  “It wasn’t so much that the vision itself changed, but the delivery of how I saw it.”

  “I’m not following, sorry.”

  “I’m not sure how else to describe it. It was like my vision self, was trying to tell me something. Or more like, show me something. There was this moment, the moment I use the dagger to kill Colin. The dagger glimmered in my hand, like I was supposed to really focus on that dagger.”

  “And?”

  “It was the bone dagger. Or a bone dagger.”

  “You mean one like Colby used to kill Jasper Thorndike. One that can take a Projector’s power?”

  “Yeah. But I wasn’t taking my brother’s power, I was killing him.”

  “How? He’s immortal, right?”

  “His father wasn’t completely sure about that.”

  “Right, the Juliska vision.”

  “And I never told this to anyone, but when Colby snatched me a while back, and we went on our little trip through memory lane together, he killed me. Then brought me back.”

  “What?” he coughed out.

  “I know. I don’t know how. And maybe he didn’t really. He might have just knocked me out, or something.”

  “Still. I wonder if it’s something to do with the three of you. This connection you have to the Stone perhaps?”

  “Like, are we immune to each other? Deadly to each other? Unlike anyone else is to us. I’ve been wondering the same thing. Maybe that’s what I was supposed to understand from my vision. It’s just a guess though. Another riddle, wrapped inside another riddle. And maybe Colby did kill me, but I would have just popped back to life a bit later, or something.”

  “Let’s hope we never have to test these theories.”

  “That’s my plan. I still have no intention of killing Colin.”

  They left the treehouse, Nona joining them just outside. Meghan shivered, letting her inner fire heat her up a little. Winter was washing over the woods of northern Maine and in a bitterly cold fashion.

  Finding Sebastien was easy. He was in bird form, perched on a nearby limb, keeping watch over Meghan’s treehouse. Sort of sweet, she thought. And what she’d expected.

  He transformed, grabbed a coat he had stashed nearby, and sidled up alongside her. She’d have to catch him up about the whole prophecy not being real, and explain the Juliska vision, but she’d do it once they were with Isabella and Aloyna.

  “Where we headed?” Sebastien asked, duty unwavering.

  Meghan eyed him with a, how did you know?

  “You look like you’re leaving,” he explained. “And I didn’t think you’d want to hang around here. And since you’re out of the house…”

  “We are leaving,” confirmed Ivan.

  “Going to pay mommy and my dearest grandmama a little visit,” Meghan retorted dramatically.

  The corner of Sebastien’s mouth turned up in a smile he tried to dampen. He had so much he wanted to tell her, but still, it was not the right time. He hoped there would be time, sooner than later.

  They snuck out of the encampment, easily, and Meghan snapped her fingers to start a fire. They each grabbed hold of Nona’s back and dove into the fire, and vanished.

  CHAPTER 32

  Colby stared at his hands.

  Bloodied.

  Soiled with death. Dirtied, with the life he’d taken.

  His father had groomed him to be a king. Had offered him a life of unlimited power and untested potential. Had already given him immense power when he’d stabbed him with the bone dagger, and made him a Projector. And his father had required a choice, and so Colby had made one. And with each death stroke, a numbing clarity crept over him. With each final breath, some new realization sinking in.

  His father had lied to him, so many times.

  His father wanted him to betray the sister he’d only recently discovered he’d shared a womb with. His twin, born with the purpose of being a pawn in his father’s schemes. Each of his children had a purpose, on Colby’s part to be a king, and Meghan’s, to help further that cause.

  Colby stared at his red-stained hands.

  What had he done?

  What had he just decided to do?

  What made him strike out that first life?

  He was surrounded by decimated Mazuruk. He’d killed every last one except the few his father had purposely kept alive to replenish the herd. Colby cut each one open and dug out the Stone inside. Each movement becoming routine, almost a flat march to the end. Except it was not the end. It would never be the end.

  And now, there they all were, a pyramid of precious Stones that would solidify his future. And standing next to it, his father, Jurekai Fazendiin; a man ready to give Colby everything.

  And it was only in that moment, watching his father stare at the Stones with a gratified greed in his eyes, that Colby realized it would never be enough. Nothing would ever be enough. His father might hand him the world, but it would never be enough. It would not stop there. He’d never be satisfied. He’d always want more. Need more. Crave more.

  Like how his father was already looking to the future, and rebuilding the herd, which served only one purpose: more Stones, which equaled more power.

  For some reason, the bloody truth dripped down Colby’s arms, pooling on the ground in a puddle of red clarity. Each streak breaking through some invisible wall, like when
he’d shattered the glass and freed his grandmother. Bringing with it the certain perception that even he would never be enough. Even if all his father ever dreamed of came to fruition, it would never be enough. His father was not a man who would ever, in a million lifetimes, be satisfied.

  But was that a sin?

  Was that, in itself, wrong?

  Did that alone, make his father evil?

  He’d always respected his father’s drive, and his father had instilled the same need in his own veins. So what did that make him? Other than a son who would never be able to please his father, no matter what, ever.

  It still made him a king.

  No… not just a king. It freed him. This truth, freed him.

  This knowledge would keep him from a life of trying to make something happen that would never happen. His future was full of limitless possibilities, so why waste his energy on this one thing that would never happen? Perhaps his father had it right. Why be satisfied when the world is yours for the taking, and re-making.

  Plus, the act was done. The choice made. Colby’s future stacked in a pile of stones and dead carcasses.

  Fazendiin said nothing to his son. He could not read minds. However, he was positive he could guess the things going on in Colby’s mind. He was winding his way beyond the doubt, and anger, and resentment, and drawing the conclusion he’d made the right choice. The only choice. The winning, choice.

  Colby felt no kingly power inside himself. Only a calming sort of numbness that pulsed with this clarity that he was at the bottom of a mountain he’d never reach the top of. At least not if his father was alive. And Colby didn’t know how to feel about that, so the numbness spread.

  He remained silent. His Catawitch, Elisha, coming out of nowhere, weaving around his feet. Worried. She didn’t like this nothing creeping through her Master’s veins.

  What did it mean?

  This numbness? This, nothing? Was it a feeling, or a sudden and complete lack of them?

  Was it disbelief in what he’d chosen?

  Was it guilt? Or fear? Excitement to see what the future held?

  Something snapped in his mind. A chord plinking hard, reverberating in his head. No, wait, it was his sister. Her thoughts were strong, focused. On their mother and grandmother. He’d been tuning her out.

  Meghan- he might as well throw her into a prison cell to live out the rest of her immortal life. That’s all that awaited her if his father got his way and used her to further his plans. Which mainly revolved around Colby getting anything and everything, at the expense of her freedom.

  His eye twitched, the muscles behind it convulsing. There was the fleeting pass of a memory. Or was it a real memory? He didn’t see how. Infants had no memory retention. And yet he’d swear on his life it was real. They had not grown up together as brother and sister, but they’d shared a womb. A mother. They shared the same blood. The same immortality. The same father.

  How could a father love one child, and not another?

  How could a father give the world, to one child, at the expense of another?

  His father had picked him at birth. Meghan had been discarded. Until she was needed to fulfill whatever thing his father needed.

  Colby was not supposed to care about this.

  He observed his father, witnessed the fire in his eyes. Mixed with a hint of doubt over Colby’s reaction to all this. And yet it did not matter. It did not matter how Colby reacted because it would make no difference in the end. He straightened himself, his father taking this as a sign he was ready to continue.

  “I’ll take care of the Stones. Go get cleaned up. I have another task for you, Son.”

  “Yes, Father.” Colby’s response hollowed out of him. He’d expected this request. This would be his life from now on. Now that you’ve accomplished that, go do this. And he would because… because why? The reasons for doing so, or not, refused to duke it out in his brain, like they should.

  “I need you to visit our little war zone,” his father was explaining. “You will inform Juliska Blackwell I need to see her. And you will remain behind in her absence as I am also summoning KarNavan, and I don’t want the Stripers to get any delusions about being in charge while they are away.”

  “As you wish.”

  “Colby,” Fazendiin called out as his son turned to obey. “You are a King now. You might not wear a crown, but you are immortal and powerful, and soon to be the most powerful King alive. A true King. The true King.”

  His meaning: act like one.

  Colby nodded, taking the first step up that mountain with no top.

  It started with reminding everyone who was truly in charge, but not before he made a short detour. One of his own making.

  Fazendiin was not startled when his other company approached as soon as his son had departed.

  “You wished to see me, Master.” Tanzea Chased appeared, walking with a cane, and bowed her head in greeting.

  “Yes. Sit, if you wish.” He magicked a chair for her.

  “No need. What may I do for you today?”

  “I’ve asked Colby to go to the island. I need to see Juliska. As well as KarNavan. It’s nearly time.”

  “Very well.” She waited. This wasn’t what she’d been called here for. She was familiar enough with her Master to see it in his eyes. She was one of few, who could.

  “Is Juliska still trying to seek out that damn Song Spinner and the Projector?”

  “Yes. I did as you asked. I have attempted to sway her into giving up this search, but she insists on continuing.”

  “I’d hoped it would be enough if we got the Song Spinner out of sight and out of mind. I wanted her alive, just in case I needed her at some point. And then that boy, got in the way of that plan by rescuing her.”

  “Juliska’s son…”

  Fazendiin lifted a brow.

  “Juliska is perilously close to discovering the truth, Master, even without having the Song Spinner around.”

  “That’s what I’m afraid of. I’ve already been dealt a blow by my own son when he freed my tyrant of a mother from the damn glass. Which is of no matter. She’s got no more power here than she did before. Even less, now that Jasper’s out of the picture.”

  “What would you have me do?” Tanzea asked him.

  “I’ll take care of Juliska. She should arrive soon. I can keep her busy while you come up with some other plan to get her off the trail. If we can locate the Song Spinner, and get her free of the Projector, we’ll just kill her. Problem, solved. Although, keep her alive long enough to take her gift. I’m sure that’s what Juliska is after as well. And it’s a useful one, so I can see why.”

  “Of course. As you wish. I’ll send out hunters.”

  “No. They’d fail. The Projector is young and untrained, but he’s too powerful, and motivated by love. You track them down. I need this done right. And quick.”

  “I’d be delighted, Master.” There was a wicked gleam in her eye.

  “I’ve changed my mind, once you have the girl, bring her to me. I’ll take her powers myself, and that will be the end of the Song Spinner problem.”

  “And what of the Projector, Master?”

  “He’ll be pissed, no doubt.” He scratched his chin, thinking. “Wait here a moment.” He left and returned a minute later. “I can spare just a little of this.” He handed Tanzea a small tin.

  She opened the lid to see what looked like dust, inside. She sniffed, unable to place what it was. She eyed her Master, silently asking.

  “Bone dust. Projector, bone dust.”

  “Ah. Of course.”

  “I kept some on hand for Colby, just in case. He’s doing well so far, but he’s only just gotten his powers. But I’m prepared, just in case something goes awry. The only problem of raising a teenage son coming into manhood. Hormones and emotions. How unfortunate that so much of our magic is tied to emotions.”

  “Something that will dampen, over time,” Tanzea assured.

  “Use the bone,
sparingly. It won’t take much. A direct hit will mess him up enough to keep him from saving the day. And by the time he comes back to his senses, he won’t be able to find us. Go now. Get it done.”

  CHAPTER 33

  “Ardon,” called out KarNavan, seeing his second in command. She joined him and nodded curtly. His gaze wandered; he was looking for something. “I need my daughter. Have you seen her? She’s been avoiding me since she arrived yesterday.”

  Ardon sneered. “Of course she has. She’s a stubborn, know-it-all teenager. That’s what they do.”

  KarNavan frowned. Only Ardon could have gotten away with such honesty.

  He’d only discovered he had a daughter a couple of years ago when the girls’ mother had died and the girl had shown up out of the blue. There had been no mistaking it though. No denying it. Katana Jade was her father through and through, at least in appearance. She was, as Ardon had put it, a stubborn, know-it-all, teenage girl. But still his daughter. And that meant she had a job to do.

  “I’ll find her,” offered Ardon poignantly.

  “Do it fast. There’s a job she needs to get started on. Tonight. Not tomorrow.” He filled her in on the task.

  “Your daughter might be stubborn, but this job is just up her alley,” Ardon remarked smartly.

  KarNavan frowned. “I know. I’m not entirely pleased with the idea. But Juliska wants it done without magic involved. I have no idea why. But she is the Queen.”

  It was Ardon’s turn to frown. “Have you, um, given any thought to that thing we discussed the other day?” She’d given him time to think it over but was growing impatient for his answer. Though she feared she already knew it.

  “I have. And while I understand your concerns, Ardon, do you really think I would go into this agreement with Fazendiin if I wasn’t absolutely certain our future safety was guaranteed?”

 

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