Exigency (Protectors of the Elemental Magic Book 2)
Page 1
Table of Contents
Dedication
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
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Epilogue
Exigency
Protectors of the Elemental Magic
Book II
Marnie Cate
Copyright (C) 2016 Marnie Cate
Layout Copyright (C) 2016 by Creativia
Published 2016 by Creativia
eBook design by Creativia (www.creativia.org)
Cover art by http://www.thecovercollection.com/
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the author's permission.
Dedication
To my sister who without her I would not be able to write about such a loving sister
To Jane for your feedback and support.
To Michelle for encouraging me to write. You will always be my red carpet date even if we are ready for the blue rinse.
To the band of authors that I've met through this journey and my publisher. Your words of wisdom encourage me to keep going no matter how hard it gets.
To my readers thank you for taking a chance on an unknown on author. Your love of my imaginary world keeps me wanting to write more.
For my muse — the kitty without her I wonder if the story would be written.
And for the brilliant Dame Judi Dench there are no words for how much inspiration I have and continue to gain from you.
Bright Blessings
~ Marnie Cate
Exigency
Noun
A time or state of affairs requiring prompt or decisive action
~Merriam Webster Dictionary
We delight in the beauty of the butterfly, but rarely admit the changes it has gone through to achieve that beauty.
~Maya Angelou
Prologue
Light from the candles flickered and bounced off the walls creating eerie shadows in the dimly lit room. In the center of the space, a man paced back-and-forth in front of a woman that appeared to be in a deep sleep. The woman rested on a table covered in black cloth. Her dark red hair covered her shoulders hiding the straps of her long black nightgown. The satin material covered her body all the way to her bare feet. The man stopped pacing and sat down, taking the woman's hand and holding it tightly.
As he began stroking her hair, he whispered, “You need to come back to me. It is not your time. It is not over for us.” Laying his head on her chest, he cried, “I need you to come back to me. I'm nothing without you…”
The man's whispers were interrupted by the echoing click of high heels on the marble floor. “Cedric, you need to pull yourself together,” a sharp voice demanded. “You have spent enough time in this icy tomb mourning and I would like my library back.”
Walking over to the man, a tall woman stopped and scowled at him. He stared into her dark eyes but he did not respond to her commands.
“There is nothing in this world that will bring her back and I need you here with me. Now stop sniveling. She would be disgusted if she could see what a mess you have become. Be respectful of the dead and let her go,” said the woman.
“We can bring her back. I know we can, Mother! You are Blanche Drygen, the most powerful woman in Starten. You have magic. We just have to figure out how to do it,” Cedric begged.
He jumped out of his seat and shook his mother violently. “Your magic can save her. Bring her back now! All you have to do is…”
Placing her pointer finger on his mouth, Blanche silenced him. “My magic is not strong enough to bring her back from the dead. She's gone. There is no magic that will bring her back to this world. You need to accept this loss and move on,” she sneered. “We have bigger issues to worry about than a dead woman.”
“She's not a dead woman,” he cried out. “She is my love, my life. I cannot go on without her. There is no point to a life without her in it.”
“Enough!” Blanche shouted. Composing herself, she smoothed her short silver hair as if to confirm that not one piece had dared to move out of place by Cedric's outburst.
As she took his bearded face into her hands, her tone softened, “You are a Drygen. Letting you be with her has made you weak. Consider it a blessing that you are finally free of that curse. Now you can be the strong man I raised. If we are going to get my grandson back from those people, you will need to pull yourself together.”
Putting her hand on his chest, she pursed her lips and said in a low growl, “He cannot live with them. He is a Drygen and he will not be raised in that house…by those people.”
Poking him, she said, “He is our hope for a future legacy. Our family line depends on him. The Drygens will not end because of that family.”
As if she had not even scolded him, he began speaking with a faraway look on his face. “There has to be away to bring her back. She will return and all will be right again. There has to …”
The sound of her slapping him across the face filled the room. Narrowing her dark eyes on him, she coldly said, “There is no way the dead can be brought back by magic. Don't you think that the girl would have brought back Mae Veracor if there was a way? The girl has more magic in her than I do. Her magic is strong and if she cannot bring that woman back from the dead, how can I? How can you expect me, with my cursed magic, to ever be able to return someone from the dead? You need to be realistic, Cedric. Do not make me give up on you, also.”
“I just miss her so much, Mother,” he said, as he lowered his head onto her shoulder, falling into her arms like a small child would.
Holding him close,
she began to stroke his cheek. Her demeanor became softer until the tender moment was disturbed by a rattling sound in the doorway.
Turning to face the interruption, she released the hold she had on Cedric as she turned to face the disturbance.
“What do you need, Hazel?” she snapped. “I said no interruptions. What is so important that you needed to disturb us?”
A maid stood holding out a tray of tea and small sandwiches. Bowing her head, she apologized, “I am sorry, Mrs. Drygen. I just thought Mr. Cedric might like something to eat. He hasn't eaten in several days.”
Eyeing the woman, she finally nodded, “Fine. Set it down and go. Go straight to Steven. Tell him to plan for a burial and tell him I want it done today.”
“Yes ma'am,” Hazel said. Fidgeting, she smoothed a strand of her salt-and-pepper hair that had fallen loose from the tight bun in her hair. “I will tell him right away.”
As she watched the maid leave the room, her eyes darkened and she turned her attention back to her son.
“Say your last goodbye to Eliza, Cedric. She will be buried today and we will begin our plans to return my grandson to where he belongs—with me.”
Chapter 1
“She didn't make it the right way.” The hiss of my little sister's voice filled my ears. Closing my eyes, I focused on the fact that she was only eight years old and that our family had been through more pain recently than any child should be expected to handle. It had been just over a month since we had buried my grandmother, Mae Veracor, and each of us were trying to find a way to fill the hole in our hearts that her passing had left.
The gruff whisper of Cole responded. “No, Meg, it was not exactly like Gram's soup but it still was really good. And the grilled cheese sandwiches were almost exactly like the kind that Gram would make for us. Mara even cut it into the little diamond shapes you like.”
“It is not like Gram's,” Meg pouted.
Cole was normally able to laugh off my little sister's attitude but even he was losing patience. Trying a softer approach, he said, “Meg, we are not going to talk like this. How do you think Mara would feel if she hears you?”
“She would be sad,” she murmured.
“You are right. She would be really sad. Don't you think we have enough sadness right now? What would Gram say? I bet she would say that Mara's soup was better than hers.”
Meg was right. The soup is nothing like Gram's. How am I going to do this? I can't do any of this without Gram, I thought.
My internal dialogue was interrupted by a warm breath on the back of my neck and strong arms wrapping around me.
“Here, let me take care of this for you,” Cole said, as he took the ladle I had been using out of my hand. “You have more soup on the counter than in the jar, Mar.”
Staring down at the surface splattered with the tomato soup, I sighed. “She was right. The soup didn't turn out. It was not Gram's tomato soup. How are we going to do this, Cole?”
“You are right. The soup was different but it was still good. Mar, soup isn't going to bring her back. Things are going to be different. We are all missing her. We have to get used to her not…”
Cutting him off, I said, “She's gone. I understand that she is gone and we will not see her again in this world. I understand that. Of all of the people, we have lost I never thought Gram would…I never thought she would die. I am not ready to be without her.”
Wiping the tears that had started to fall down my cheeks, he said, “We will make it together, Mar. None of us were ready for her to go but she would never want you to fall apart over her death. Remember the life she brought to this world.”
“I'm trying, Cole and I will try harder,” I reluctantly said. “I need to be alone for a while.”
Kissing me again, he said, “Go connect with the elements and come home to me soon.”
As I left the house through the patio to the backyard, I saw a lavender bag lying on the table. The tag labeled For Mara brought tears to my eyes. The soft fabric held my wedding dress…the dress that my grandmother had worn the day she married my grandfather. The dress she had given to me with her blessing.
Before Gram had died, I said that I wanted to get married the day after my birthday. Doubts of having a wedding so soon after a funeral overwhelmed me. Cole was eagerly planning the event and I found myself hesitantly agreeing. It wasn't because I didn't love Cole. There was just so much I didn't understand about my life that I was afraid.
Get yourself together. You are marrying, Cole. You love him, I scolded myself.
Pushing back the thoughts of the wedding, I walked towards the forest. As I walked through our property, I decided to take a different route. I had been walking each night since my grandmother's death to clear my mind. I felt her presence strongest when I was outdoors. The whisper of the wind in the trees calmed me. Tonight, my mind was full of questions. Thoughts of the family magic filled my mind.
My grandmother, Mae Veracor, was the descendent of Genevieve Silver. Genevieve, my great grandmother, was one of the original protectors of the elemental magic. For a reason that was still unclear to me, the Goddess, Danu, had chosen four girls and gifted them with the knowledge of elemental magic. The girls—Genevieve Silver, Camille Black, Michelle Elliott and Sarah Andrews—had each taken an oath to protect the magic and for many years they kept their promise.
Camille, the redhead with a personality as fiery as her hair, began to misuse her gift once she married Brandon Drygen. The Drygen family had always been the richest and most influential family in Starten. Most people that worked outside of their properties found themselves working at one of their businesses.
When the three women came up with a plan on how to stop Camille, they decided to bind Camille's magic and that of her children. The spell that was cast was so strong that she could not even tap into any of the dark magic within her. This angered Camille but the Drygen family did not need magic anymore. They had acquired even more money and power.
Need or not, Camille never forgave the women for what they did. The betrayal she felt fueled her anger. In retaliation, she began directing her rage at the one that had been her closest friend—Michelle. Out of fear, Michelle and her family left town.
Little did I know how deeply connected I was to these girls. Michelle Elliott turned out to be none other than the grandmother of my father, Elliott Stone. My father had been sent back to Starten as a young man where he met and fell in love with my mother, Eliza. After my mother forced my father to fake his death and leave us, she began a secret relationship with Cedric, the grandson of Camille and son of Blanche Drygen.
When Gram found out about the affair and the way that Eliza had been using her magic to help the Drygen family, she became infuriated and cast a spell to bind all of the magic my mother had. Cursing my grandmother, Eliza left my little sister and me. Almost five years after her disappearance, she returned demanding that Meg and I leave with her that night. My grandmother was forced to reveal the secret of the Silver family and I was given a potion to restore my memories and magic.
It wasn't enough to find out that Genevieve and Michelle were my great-grandmothers followed by the shock of finding out that I had a half-brother whose father was a Drygen but I also find out that my fiancé, Cole, was the great-grandson of Lucy Andrews. How did all of these people end up connecting? Was it the plan of the Goddess? Was it just fate that I would fall in love with Cole? Just as it had been fate pulling my father to Eliza for her to only long to be with Cedric? Would my children pay for the mistakes of our parents?
As I walked deeper into the thick trees, the wind picked up. The cool breeze whipped my hair around blocking my view and the dark shadows of the forest surrounded me. I did not feel afraid. I could still hear the air surrounding me rustling the trees, sounds of birds chirping and the clicking of the silver moss beetles.
As I continued walking, the air died down but I quickly found myself encompassed by a dense fog. My hair was no longer blinding me but I could
barely see my hand in front of me. A soft voice in me told me to just to keep walking and I listened until I stepped into cold water.
“Damn it,” I cried out.
Not sure where I was I stopped and called, “Air, please blow away this fog and let me see where I am.”
Sitting down, I waited while the moist vapor drifted away showing me that I was on the rocky shore of Sparrow Lake. Sitting down, I wrapped my arms around my legs and gently began to rock myself. How did I get so far from home? I felt as if I was losing a connection with reality. I kept telling myself that if I just listened to my heart everything would be as planned. As I questioned my recent behavior and my faith that the Goddess would guide me, I heard a crackling sound behind me. Turning to the direction of the noise, I saw a shadow quickly dart through the tree line.
Calling out, I said, “Stop! Who are you? Why are you following me?”
No response came from the forest. Standing to face the unknown, the cold breeze off the lake picked up and covered my arms with goosebumps. Rubbing my arms frantically to warm up, I called out again.
“Whoever is out there, show yourself,” I said.
“With all the magic you hold, you could easily climb up the mountain and give them what they deserve,” said the bewitching voice of a woman.
“You could start a little fire. One little ball of your magic could ignite the forest surrounding them. It would grow and grow until it would burn the mansion down. Or you could call a great wind and bring everything and everyone inside down into a crumbling ruin.”
With more anger, the voice said, “And there is always my favorite. You can call the rain and demand it to pour down. Calling more and more of your magic until you finally send everything off the mountain. Mudslides happen all the time.”
“Or if you wanted to be lazy, you can just ask the ground to shake and shake and shake until you have created dust out of them all.”
The voice taunted, “Wouldn't it be so easy? Don't you think they deserve to be punished for what they did to your grandmother?”
Fighting my thoughts of agreement, I called out, “No. Who are you? I have no plans to do any of that. Destroying them will not bring my grandmother back. None of it will bring my grandmother back.”