The Queen, The Mirror, and The Creation (Fated Chronicles Book 5)

by Humphrey Quinn

  But this was not a good day.

  And this was not anyone.

  This was a young Projector who'd not learned to control his magic, and was drowning in conflict and despair.

  Catrina sighed in frustration. Words, or physical actions of comfort, had never seemed so useless. And perhaps silence and time was what he needed. A few minutes to focus. To find his control. To process all the thoughts and emotions storming his mind before they had the chance to overwhelm him into instability.

  Colin wished as hard as humanly, or magically, possible, for Jasper Thorndike to live. To come back to life. Because the ideas assaulting his mind scared the crap out of him. But there was no bringing the dead Projector back to life, and Colin wasn’t sure how to handle all this emotion on his own.

  He attempted to speak, but no words would form.

  Only pain and anger and confusion bubbled and boiled. His hands fisted, eyelids crushing against each other. His jaw ground hard in the fight to keep the magic from taking over, but it screamed for release. It stormed and struck at every nerve. Wouldn't it just be better not to think, and give in and let it out? So much easier, his addled brain relented ever so little. The caring, the trying, the struggle—why bother? What was the point?

  His second soul, his book, had no higher speed in which to work up to—it sputtered and threatened to abandon its place on Colin's tattooed ear. The connection had already been severed and he didn't care if it reconnected—more like, wondered why he should care. Why he should bother.

  A concerned and gentle voice called out his name—Catrina—but her voice sounded distant and muffled. He needed to send her away from him. She was the one pure and honest thing in his life—she deserved better than this. She deserved a stable home. Her family. Her friends. Not a life on the run with a guy like him.

  He tried to care enough to make himself climb out of this pit of despair—and thinking of Catrina was helping—but the worry that he might hurt her in the process ruined any progress that line of thinking even started to make.

  If he hurt her…

  God, if he hurt her—don't let me hurt her.

  He'd rather die.

  He pushed out a maniacal laugh at that thought—because he couldn't die! Not even if he wanted to, with all his heart. Not if it was best for the entire world, that he did.

  He clutched his chest- the magic, it was like this pulsing energy trying to break free.

  Catrina frantically tried to reach Colin—the part of him that was still him, hidden deep under the chaos brewing inside of him. She gasped when icy particles of snow started to rise off the ground, lifting, swirling, sparkling over their heads. But not in any pleasant, oh, this is pretty sort of way.

  "Colin, you can't let it out."

  The storm brewing inside of him was leaking its way outward—into a real storm picking up speed. The snow and ice and leaves began to swirl faster and more furiously all around them. Catrina gasped, a miniscule sliver of ice slicing her cheek, then her hand.

  "Colin, please! Come back to me! I know you're in there, you have to come back to me." She peered through the swarming snow, helplessly. She might be forced to leave him. This storm brewing around them would kill her if she stayed too long. But if she didn't bring him out of this, she was probably dead anyway. Along with many others.

  This is the breakdown they were always trying to avoid.

  Live a simple life, she almost joked to herself.

  How the heck did they do that when they lived in the real world?

  The real world was chaotic, not calm.

  It was always throwing you for a loop, not just letting you slide through easily.

  Something moved in the distance—into the furious snowy white blowing and blinding her. She covered her eyes, narrowing in on some murky figure pushing its way into the storm.

  Catrina's first fear—this was someone dangerous. A hunter come for Colin. He'd let his guard down, and they were not protected by the magical cloak. It was open season and they were the prey—and she had no way to protect Colin. Her magic was no match for his, or whoever this figure was. Her second fear—Colin was stuck in some waking dream state, and like before, his dreams were trying to come to life. And this figure was a figment of some conjuring from the depths of his mind.

  She grabbed Colin's shoulders, begging him to snap out of it. But his stare remained blank and dead-like, unresponsive to her pleas, unseeing of the dark figure whose cloak whipped in the winds Colin's magic created.

  Abruptly, it ended.

  The snow released from its torment in a gentle fall back to the ground. But it wasn't Colin who'd done it. The figure was making motions with their hands, treading closer.

  Catrina sucked in to catch her breath. The storm might have subsided, but she held no illusion that this would end well—she rose to her feet and put her palm outward to ward off this approaching figure. If she was lucky, she'd manage to get a spell or two out before she was knocked out, or taken, or—rock hard swallow—killed.

  The cloaked figure thrust his arm outward in a rolling motion and Colin slumped over onto the snowy ground. Catrina jumped back in shock, agony heavy on her tongue at the sight. She didn't imagine Colin could knock himself out, or have some dream vision figure come to life, knock him out. Which meant it was probably a hunter, and they were doomed. Her magic was not up to par, plain and simple.

  "He’ll be okay," a grizzled voice rang out from underneath the cloak.

  "Who—who are you?" Catrina stammered out. "What did you do to him? What do you want from us?" She raised her palm again, ready to strike if it would do any good. Oddly, though, she began to realize the cloaked figure was familiar. This was the same man who’d saved them not long before, from the attack by Tanzea Chase at Freyne Rothrock's now destroyed lighthouse.

  Catrina held her breath, uncertain. Just because he'd saved them before didn't mean he wasn't simply biding his time to snatch them up now.

  The figure lifted his arms and slid back his hood.

  Catrina stumbled backwards and stared, eyes bugged open so wide she thought they might pop out of their sockets. She was seeing a ghost. Surely, this was an apparition before them. She didn't believe for a minute he was real. Perhaps Colin was imagining all of this, another dream trying to come to life. And if so, it gave her a clear idea where his mind had gone to. And it was a desperate place, if true.

  Words escaped her. Leapt right out of her brain, like, words, what are those?

  Colin stirred, mumbling something incoherent.

  "See, he’s already waking up. I just fried his thoughts for a minute so he didn’t fry all of us, first."

  Catrina's only response was to stare at the man, certain she was seeing things. That somehow, they'd been flung into some sort of false reality. Was this Colin's magic at work? Were his dreams coming to life again? Were they living out his deepest desires? Had they died? Maybe that was it, somehow, they'd died, and were now in some hazy, wintery version of an afterlife. That had to be it. Except Colin was immortal and unable to die.

  Colin’s eyes fluttered open and Catrina snapped out of her disbelief and helped him sit up. She swiped the snow off his jacket and out of his disheveled hair, and followed his gaze as it landed on the face of a man he’d just been desperately wishing was still alive. But even his powers were not strong enough for this. He sat up straight and blinked hard a few times.

  "I'm dreaming again, right?" His gaze slid over to Catrina who shrugged. It wasn't the same as when his dreams had tried to live themselves out. And yet, Jasper was dead. His presence here was an impossibility.

  "Hello, Colin. Catrina." Jasper nodded in greeting at them. His smile was thin and held their confusion tightly. "You are not seeing things. You are not dreaming. Or dead. And for that matter, neither am I."

  "I don’t understand," Colin muttered coarsely.

  Jasper Thorndike held out his arm to assist him to his feet. "Come with me, and I’ll explain." He glanced around nervo
usly. "It’s not safe to stick around here. Someone might have tracked you, although I'm pretty sure I will have sent them in the wrong direction if that's the case. But I'm not willing to take any chances."

  "Yeah. Not safe," Colin mumbled. His brain refused to believe what he was seeing. But Jasper, or this strange figment of his imagination, was right. It wasn't safe to stay here in his current condition. Which was what exactly? He'd just been lost so deep into his own mind that he could not surface back into reality, and now—his eyes fled to find Catrina's and beg forgiveness. He was afraid of what he'd find silently written there—and there was fear, but not of him. Only for him.

  His hand reached up and touched a cut on her cheek. He let his hand drop, revolted by the truth that he'd caused that. And before his mind sank him into another round of despair, the cut healed itself—the drops of blood, as if washed away. Colin had not done that. He lifted his head to Jasper. He must've done it.

  Catrina pulled his face back to her. "It was nothing. Merely a scratch." There had been a few, but she didn't point that out.

  A scratch, or cut down the middle, either was equally terrible when it came to Catrina. Any injury or pain she suffered was equally horrific. He'd been lost so deep… it was written all over her face, the fear that he might go off the deep end—how dangerously close he'd come to sinking down too far. "You should have left me."

  All Catrina heard was, if I'd hurt you I would never forgive myself.

  In reply, she kissed his cheek and squeezed his hand.

  Colin didn't deserve her loyalty, not when it might have cost Catrina her life. He pulled his hand out of hers and rubbed his hands on his pants as if somehow that would make him clean and whole and worthy again.

  Catrina recognized the pulling away for what it was, but she caught Jasper's pursed simper and didn't try to argue. It was not the time.

  Even now, with whatever magic Jasper had used on him, his control was struggling. His second soul was chugging at top speed to keep him steady. The reconnecting was hard work. He sucked in and let it out evenly.

  Catrina. Think of Catrina. I need to get her somewhere safe.

  Somewhere away from me, his thoughts betrayed him mournfully.

  His mind was having difficulty getting behind the idea that he was staring at Jasper. And whatever the dead Projector, or whoever he really was, had done to him when he’d knocked him out, Colin's brain wasn’t firing up correctly, which was probably the point seeing as he’d been about to blow something up.

  And only Jasper, or another Projector, would know this.

  "Jasper?" it came out in a hushed need to believe it was really him.

  Jasper grasped his shoulder and gave him an eye roll. "You finally with me? It's a long story, Kid. Let's get somewhere safer first. You ready?"

  Colin nodded. Catrina held onto him firmly, a shudder of calm coming over her. Jasper was really here. Alive. And Colin hadn't crossed a line there was no coming back from. It was the best possible win for today.

  A blink of time later, they were standing at the edge of the woods in some new place. It was warm. Summery. There was no snow, cold wind or gloomy skies. The landscape beyond the trees was vibrant with life.

  It took a moment, but they realized where he'd brought them—back to the Tunkapog lands. A sense of relief washed over them. It had been one of their favorite places to visit. There was something about being here that was naturally inviting and soothing. Just what the Projector ordered, Colin surmised.

  Catrina gasped and ran to the edge of the field. Colin's gaze followed—people disembarking long wooden boats. Some faces he recognized, most he did not.

  Jasper kept his magical cloak covering them, so they would not be seen.

  Colin joined Catrina only for his features to crumple inward at the sight of a tear streaking down her cheek.

  "My mother." She sniffled. "My father." Involuntary movements had her inching closer—their mere proximity calling out to her silently. She stopped, freezing on the spot, spinning to see Colin. Suddenly stuck between them. She was hidden from her parents, still shielded by the magical cloak. More than anything, she dreaded leaving Colin. Especially right after such an emotional episode. But the sight of her parents after so long apart…

  "You should go to them," Colin affirmed as insistently as his dulled strength permitted. "They need to see you, and know you’re okay. And you—you need to see them too." His words were riddled with confusion, though, over letting her go. A big part of him thought she'd be safer with them. But an even bigger part was scared to death she'd walk away from him, and he'd never see her again. That once they discovered she was not only alive, but still with him—well, his dream would be over. His dream girl, taken from him.

  If they were smart, they'd never let her come back. He really hoped they were not smart—and it sickened him to hope this. She wasn't his possession. He didn't own her. He loved her, and even though separating would be difficult, she needed to reconnect with her family.

  Jasper grasped Colin’s shoulder in a firm grip.

  "It will be okay. I’ll watch out for him while you’re away." His implied meaning, we need some time alone to discuss some things, anyway, but I’ll make sure you're reunited as soon as possible.

  Catrina leapt back and grabbed Colin’s hands in hers, staring him straight in the eye. "I’m not leaving you for long. I will find you." She was aware he’d have to stay hidden for the time being. And she wasn’t sure exactly what would happen once her family found out she had returned to them again.

  This was not a goodbye. Not a long term one. She would not allow it.

  "I’ll never be too far." A wary promise. He tenderly pushed her hands out of his before he lost his nerve and instead, grabbed her and disappeared.

  Such a selfish need.

  She appeared torn, but gave him a loving nod and left him. Jasper released her from the magical cloak, revealing her to the world.

  Colin couldn’t handle watching the emotional and shocking reunion. The sounds of it, alone, were enough. His head dropped, eyes closing. The mere idea of them being separated for any length of time was causing him anxiety.

  He needed help. So much help. He wondered if it was even more help than what Jasper had to offer. He was a downright walking disaster. A time bomb who didn't even know what would set off his trigger.

  The grasp on his shoulder squeezed tight again.

  "C'mon now, Kid. You didn’t end the world today. It's not so bad all things considered."

  Colin cast his mentor a side glance that screamed, really? That's the angle we're taking here?

  Familiar voices snagged his attention—Ivan, he was reuniting with the Mochrie family. Mireya looked—so much more grown up than the last time Colin had seen her. Although her parents did not look as though they'd fared well at all. Her father, Irving, was on a stretcher, and her mother, walking, but in an obvious state of shock. He witnessed Ivan swipe a tear from his own eyes, and hug Mireya again. There was a young man with her—she introduced him as Joseph. Colin didn't recognize him.

  There were so many of them. So many people coming off the boats, and most in need of assistance. It was only after this that he caught the hint of desperation in the air. This had just happened—whatever this was. These people were not supposed to be here. They were supposed to be on the island. It hadn't even dawned on him while he was there confronting his mother, that they were not. Of course, he was nearing a magical meltdown at the time.

  "Why are they all here?"

  Jasper sucked in and forced out a sigh. "How about first, let's talk. Then I'll explain all of this."

  Colin nodded. Yeah. One problem at a time.

  A scream stopped them. Colin observed Ivan dart away from the Mochries only to hurry over to a young woman—Maria, he recalled. She was on the ground grasping an older man, and crying.

  Jasper let out a snip of a breath. "Her father's still alive. Well isn't that something…" It wasn't all gloom and doom.
<
br />   But it wasn't the place for Colin right now either.

  "My sister's here, isn't she?"

  "Far as I know." His tone indicated he had a bit more to say on the subject. "Shall we?" Jasper magicked them away from the scene.

  Colin was taken aback when they arrived in one of the tropical rooms—he'd missed this. The warmth. The peace. The quiet. A pleasant place to waste away the hours.

  Jasper thrust something at him. He peered downward with a big old question mark in his features.

  "Swim trunks." Jasper nodded toward the pool. "It's good for getting your head on straight. And it's good exercise too."

  "You want me to go—swimming?"

  "It's that, or we sit and talk, and I don't think we're there yet. You swim. Relax. Don't think. Let the water calm your nerves. Then—we'll talk."

  So that's how it was to be. No explanation of how the man was still alive, or why he was here, or Catrina's family was here, or the entire population of the Svoda was here—just—go take a swim.

  In the scheme of things, it wasn't an unpleasant thought to disappear and float away in the water for a few hours.

  "I won't be far." It wasn't meant as a threat or a warning. Only to assure he wasn't going anywhere, to let Colin check that off his worry list. He nodded and watched Jasper leave the room.

  Colin remembered this place—remembered wishing he had the choice to live in a place like this, all the time. He got into the swim trunks and stared out across the shimmering surface, his pale reflection mirrored back up at him. Long gone was the boy who wore sweater vests and khakis, and wasted away his days reading fantasy and sci-fi novels. His head tilted to see the black tattoo weaved into his ear—his second soul. This was more fitting of him now. Even if he'd never grown much taller. A few inches over the last few years, that was all. He supposed if Catrina accepted him as he was, he needed to figure out how to do that as well.

  Colin dipped his toes into the water. It brought a dim smile to his lips—the water was perfectly warm and inviting. He sank down in, letting the water wash over him. After a few strokes, he rolled onto his back and floated.