Blessed by Sapphires (A Dance with Destiny Book 2)

by JK Ensley

  The familiar nausea hit me moments before I popped back out of the clouds, blessed with a view I’d only seen in my dreams for so long now.

  Chapter 33

  Ashgard

  (ASH-gahrd)

  Placid green fields below me, jaunting mountains to my left, quaint signs of civilization to my right. My heart had brought me home. My wings had flown me to the only place I’d ever truly belonged. My Ashgard.

  I glided toward the tranquil little town of Tamar Broden. Glided toward my old friends, my old home.

  I cannot recall if it has been fourteen or fifteen years since I first left. Perhaps it’s sixteen by now. A naïve young girl departed. A hardened demon-Angel now returned.

  Will they even be able to see me? I’m far from human. Even my skin is new. I’m more alien than girl.

  Landing softly just before reaching the Trinken’s aging barn, I once again walked barefoot upon the soft, tickling grass. The sound of hammer and saw led me through the door as Mrs. Trinken’s terrified voice once again met my arrival. She ran toward her beloved husband. They had both aged so much. This vision alone was confirmation of just how long my absence had truly been.

  I was leaning against the outer wall when Margy ran to Wynford, causing his tools to cease their rhythmic cacophony. I slid the door closed and remained there. Two paling sets of eyes slowly turned toward me and froze.

  I smiled. “Ahh, so you can see me.”

  “Wynford?” Her voice trembled. “Can you see it, too?”

  “Yes, Margy. I can see her.”

  “Apologies for not knocking. You looked so busy. I wanted to enjoy watching an artist engulfed in his craft.”

  “Much obliged, Ma’am,” he answered.

  “Ma’am? Hmm, the years may not have been very kind to me, I suppose. But the formality cuts my heart.” I smiled and winked.

  He gasped. “By the gods… Miss Jenevier.”

  I bowed low to the bewildered couple then cautiously approached them. Poor Margy grabbed her loving husband’s hand and stepped behind him.

  “Do not fear me, Margy. My words to you were unnecessarily harsh when last we met. Please forgive a foolish girl her fiery passions. I am no longer full of the anger I once fed upon.”

  “Th-that’s okay, child.”

  “You were innocently beautiful when ya left us, little lady. You were terrifyingly angelic when ya returned—”

  “And what words would you use to describe me now, Mr. Trinken?” I interrupted.

  “The prettiest little thing I ever saw,” answered Margy.

  I laughed out of shock and relief. The precious older couple jumped.

  “Apologies. That’s not exactly what I was expecting to hear,” I admitted.

  Margy released her husband and approached me, awe and wonder upon her face. “How’d you come by all these beautiful colors, child?”

  “God painted me.”

  “That He did,” she whispered.

  “I sure wanna hear the story behind those curls, and them there eyes. And curiosity’s just eatin’ me up over your skin a-glowin like that,” he said.

  “Yes, Wynford speaks true. But what happened to your cheek, child? May I touch it?”

  She didn’t wait for my answer. I remained perfectly still as her trembling hand found the place where my husband had covered my blackened scar with the sparkling azure of his glorious coif.

  I chuckled. “Well now, that one’s going to be a little hard to explain.”

  “It feels like tiny sapphires. Does it hurt?”

  “No, Ma’am. It doesn’t hurt. It rarely even comes to mind—”

  “Unless somebody points it out,” she finished.

  “Yes, until then.”

  “Are you home now, little lady? Have your Angel wings brought our tiny lass home to stay?” Wynford asked.

  “My wings brought me here, yes. I’m not sure how long I’ll get to stay. Does Jezreel yet live?”

  Margy smiled. “Oh yes, child. She remains in the cottage still, waiting for you to come back to her.”

  I sighed. “Well then, my story isn’t an easy one in the telling. I should like to do it only once. You’re both more than welcome to join us for some delicious tea and a journey into the past.”

  I entered the familiar back door to my beloved Aunt Marlise’s old rose-covered cottage and breathed in the wonderful scents that sent my mind back in time twenty years. I wiped joyful tears from my cheeks as I added more wood in the little stove. Filling up the same old teakettle, I placed it there to boil.

  “My eyes are forsaking me… You cannot be real. Alastyn said you turned into a winged demon and flew away. I knew that was his way of telling me you’d died and was now in the Otherworld.”

  The shaky old voice came from an even shakier withered form. But the twisted hands and gnarled features couldn’t hide Jezreel’s sparkling eyes as they filled with joyous tears.

  “I did, and I was. But that’s not the whole of it. Nay, not even the crumbs.” I chuckled. “Bad decisions usually make for good stories. And I always seem to have a few lying around—good stories, that is.”

  I walked to my childhood friend, tenderly placing my glowing hands upon her wrinkled cheeks. No matter what we now displayed to the seeing world, our eyes knew better. Our tears and hugs were simultaneous and abundant. I never wanted to let go of her again. The whistling teapot was quieted only by the kindly old couple who’d slipped in and was shedding their own tears at our long overdue reunion. The enchanting smell of Aunt Marlise’s rose tea pulled me from Jezreel’s embrace, drawing me to the steaming little cup.

  “Oh, it’s been sooo many years. I’ve longed for this precious nectar to pass my lips more than I’ve longed for breath in my lungs. Many have tried to mimic Marlise’s recipe. Even my own doesn’t taste like this.”

  “Well now you can drink your fill.” Jezreel smiled as she took the seat beside me.

  “I love you, dearest friend.” I grabbed her ancient hand.

  “And I you.”

  She sighed heavily and cut me a sideways glance. Her bright eyes looked so out of place inside that withered form.

  “Margy told me she let slip my curse and its cause. Don’t hold ill in your heart towards me over yet another careless decision. I’ve waited so very long just to look upon you once more. Pray, tell me your story, Jenevier. If it’s half as colorful as your curls, it’ll be a song for the ages.” She positively beamed.

  Chapter 34

  Tamar Broden

  (TAY-marr BRO-dun)

  “You mean… you went to a place that seemed like hell?” Mrs. Trinken asked.

  “No, Ma’am. Apollyon doesn’t guard a pit that just seems bottomless. No, I was there. Not condemned, but in waiting.”

  “So…” Jezreel prodded.

  “So, nothing. That’s what happened.”

  “Okay, let me see if I can get this straight. The blue markings…”

  “Are from where my love, Vindicus, touched me. Yes, Jezreel.”

  “And I get that the skin coloring is from being remade,” she said. “But I’m still not clear on the pink hair and eyes.”

  “Well, I’m not completely sure myself. That all happened at the same time the skin thing did.”

  “But ya said everyone’s hair matched what they were a Guardian over. So does that mean yer a Guardian over something pink?” Mr. Trinken puzzled.

  “I actually haven’t rationalized it out that far. I’m not completely sure if any of that part was even real because… that’s when I was seeing through veiled eyes. Thanks to my weak mind and Ahriman’s tea. They may have all been bald, hideous creatures. I’m no longer sure.”

  “But Apollyon, I mean Vindicus, his hair was really the color of this curl. And real sapphires are there upon your cheek, old friend,” Jezreel said.

  “Yes, that’s true.”

  “Then, perhaps you saw the Angels as they were, just not the place. Perhaps you saw the Angels in their former glory. Th
e way they used to be. The way God made them. Before they did whatever they did to get banished to hell,” Jezreel ventured.

  “You’re causing me to get a headache, Jezreel. All I know for certain is what I’ve told you. You now know every event in my life from the moment I slipped from that windowsill.” I laughed. “What I’m finding funny is how you seemingly accept my transformation mask, my job as an executioner, my unrighteous vengeance on Merodach, and even my exile to a different layer. Yet you give pause to the color of my hair.”

  “Your hair is something I can see and touch. The rest of it is incomprehensible. So my mind accepts it as a true fairytale, I guess. One thing that does trouble me, are the Mermaids.”

  “Eww, I know… creepy beyond description. I always pictured them as enchanting and attractive.” I shivered. “Believe me. They’re not.”

  “You are beautiful, my friend. I can’t stop staring at you. It makes me sad,” she admitted.

  “Sad? Why so, Jezreel?”

  “Because how will you be able to stay in Ashgard? I wanted for so long to get you back, only to have you removed from me once more.”

  “But people here know me. They will accept me, surely.”

  “Accept you? Yes, child. They’ll accept you,” Margy said. “But not without questions. Can you imagine how terrifying your story would be? If only half what you’ve confided to us were to be known beyond these doors, all of Ashgard would cower in fear.”

  “Yep, reckon we think this place here is the whole world. Knowing about other layers ain’t a real comforting revelation. Not to mention the fact there are giant Angels living just over there in them mountains,” Wynford added.

  “Your secrets are safe with us, Jenevier. But they cannot be kept if you’re ever seen. Believe me,” Jezreel said. “You don’t want to be confined to this cottage, no matter how much you love it. And besides, Alastyn’s the only one who knew the truth about you killing Merodach. That secret he’s hidden away within his heart. He’s never breathed a word of it. If you hadn’t confessed such to us now, we would’ve never known he died and then returned. All of Ashgard thanks the gods daily for his miraculous kindness and wisdom. Everyone looks to him as their savior. Gone are the days of fear and hiding their daughters.”

  “That’s… that’s wonderful. Ashgard has become the paradise God had always intended it to be. Huh, it’s funny. Now that my home is the perfect place to live, I’m no longer welcome. There really is no place for me.”

  “We can make our own place.” Jezreel smiled, squeezing my hand.

  “You are a true friend. Thank you for even suggesting it. But we both know you’re needed here. You’ve found your destiny, Jezreel. And I couldn’t be any happier if it were myself. No, I have yet to find my place. What I do know for certain is that I no longer belong anywhere I’ve already been.”

  “Hey. What about your mask?” Jezreel asked. “Would you blend in better as Vashti?”

  Margy and Wynford fidgeted uncomfortably in their seats.

  “Hmm… You tell me.” Without moving or pausing, mid-drink of tea, I was Vashti. A breath later, I was Jenevier once more.

  “Oh dear. That’ll never do,” Jezreel said.

  And just like the old days, she and I burst into inappropriate laughter at the worst possible time. It seemed to be a crude gift we shared.

  “There’s one thing I will do before I leave this realm,” I said. “And that is to go see Alastyn.”

  The trio swapped worried looks.

  “Don’t get upset. I already know Alastyn’s married to Willow. I even know they have a child.”

  “Two,” Jezreel added.

  “Two? Well, it matters not. We’re old friends from our youth. I’d love nothing more than to spend some time catching up.”

  “Wow. That’s probably the most selfish thing I’ve ever heard you say.”

  “Jezreel, why do you name me selfish?”

  “Jenevier, it took Alastyn years to get over you the first time and then years to get over you the second time. And from what we’ve learned today, he did so along with keeping your secrets from the world. That could’ve been no easy feat. He even saw Vashti.”

  “Yes, he did. And still he accepted me.”

  “So you admit Alastyn is bound to you in some weird cosmic way and that he’ll love you and want you, no matter what?” Jezreel asked.

  “Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying.”

  “And you don’t see that as selfish?”

  “How is it selfish? It’s just the natural way of things between us. Alastyn and I share an inexplicable bond. I’ll always love him and he’ll always return that love. It’s not an evil thing,” I protested. “Nothing but good can come from our friendship.”

  “Friendship? Is that all it is? Friendship?”

  “Yes, Jezreel. He is part of my heart. I love him as I love you. Why do you go on so about this?”

  “Alastyn has always and will always love you as a woman. Not a friend only. He is an incredibly strong man to push on with his life after losing his entire heart. Not once, but twice. The loss of you has very nearly destroyed him, over and over. Jenevier, have mercy on his tattered soul. He has children now.”

  “Jezreel, why such panic? As you say, he has a wife and babies. How would it hurt to just say hello and finally keep my promise of return? He will hug my neck, introduce me to his Willow, and let me play with the little ones. How do you glean ill from that?”

  “You have always had such a kind and innocent heart, child,” Margy said. “I feared maybe you’d been forced to sacrifice it. What with the horror story you just told us and all. And perhaps, in a way, you have. But not in this one thing. Not with your childhood friends. It warms my heart to know the old Jenevier still lives inside you somewhere. Now, think back to what Jezreel just told you. Think hard, child.”

  “Because… because we’re bonded? But, I don’t understand how—”

  “Alastyn will forsake anything in all of creation to honor that bond,” Jezreel said as she patted my hand.

  The realization of her words washed through me. Sorrow accompanied its wake. Tears were flowing down my cheeks, burning as lava. There was no relief.

  “So I’ve lost even him… now, that’s everything. No home. No family. And now, no friends.”

  “There, there. It’s not all bad,” Margy said.

  “Is it not? Pray, tell me, Mrs. Trinken. Tell me. What of it is good? I need to know the good right now,” I said through my tears.

  The front door banging, accompanied by loud voices, sent a jolt of panic through my weary mind. I reacted the only way my body would allow me to react. Varick’s stern training kicked in.

  I disappeared from my seat at the table and was standing behind a now silent pair of uninvited guests in but a breath. I’d seized both by their hair. A lethal wing was curled around each as the razor sharp tips pressed firmly against their stunned throats.

  “No! Jenevier, wait!” Jezreel screamed.

  My ruby gaze shot over to my three companions who were crowded in the kitchen doorway. Three horror-filled sets of eyes were fixed firmly upon me.

  “Don’t hurt them,” Margy pleaded. “They’re our friends.”

  Sanity returned. As quickly as she’d appeared, Vashti was gone. I released the two handfuls of hair and took a hurried step back. The strangers remained frozen as they were. Wynford made his way to me, placing a loving arm around my trembling shoulders.

  “There, there, Miss Jenevier. Don’t you fret none. Twern’t your fault. You was just doing what you do,” he assured me. “Protecting the ones you love.”

  The intruding couple slowly turned around, their wide eyes catching the first glimpse of their tiny attacker. I wanted to melt into the floor. I put my arms around Mr. Trinken and buried my face in his comforting side.

  “Marcus, Alissa, I am terribly sorry for the misunderstanding,” Jezreel said. “We were just a little on edge when you came in. Forgive us. Let me introduce y
ou both to my oldest and dearest friend in the whole world, Miss Jenevier Embarr.”

  I peeked up from under Wynford’s arm to see a graceful white-haired woman with emerald eyes and a warm smile approaching me. The man grabbed her arm, halting her advance. I tempered my heightened nerves. I took a deep breath, cleared my throat, then turned to them with my welcoming hand outstretched, and as pleasant a smile as I could’ve ever hoped to manage.

  “Apologies. My manners have grown atrocious in my solitude. Do not hold ill thoughts toward this home. Aunt Marlise would never allow it. And neither will I. Please, make yourself at home while Jezreel heats up a new pot of tea.”

  Jezreel disappeared into the kitchen at my words and Margy joined her husband as I motioned for our guests to take a seat in the parlor.

  “Apologies, once more,” I said politely. “My mind was elsewhere when our introductions were made. Did Jezreel name you Markus and Alissa? So very nice to meet you both. My name is Jenevier Olesia Embarr. I’ve been away for many years and I regret not knowing you sooner.” I smiled at them as I grasped each proffered forearm and nodded my head slightly.

  The couple just stared at me. Jezreel entered with the hot tea and the Trinkens cautiously took their seats. The silence was thick. I was admittedly confused by their continued stares and lack of appropriate responses.

  “I apologized for frightening you earlier. Have I caused your tongues to lose their wit?”

  “Jenevier, perhaps they’re just taking in your exotic colorings. An enchanting creature such as yourself is a rarity indeed.” Jezreel winked at me as she gently elbowed my arm.

  I realized only then how I must look to a common person of Ashgard at first glance. And then, every other glance thereafter.

  “Oh, I suppose so. I’m so used to it, I fail to see how it may give others pause.”

  “It’s not your coloring, although that’s stunningly beautiful as well. It’s your name that has caused my voice to leave me,” Alissa admitted.

  “My name? Is it so odd to you? How is it possibly more shocking to you than my hair, my skin, or my eyes?”