by Tenaya Jayne
The healer in her came out. “But you hurt her, too, didn’t you? She didn’t do anything to deserve that.”
“Whoever she is, she’s better off without me.”
“But…”
“But what? You just said she could burn in hell.”
“No, I said the both of you could burn in hell,” she corrected.
“Well, it’s done. And there’s nothing you can do about it.” He reached out and pulled her into his arms. She looked into his eyes as he cupped her cheek with his hand. “Stay with me. You’re my destiny.”
Her tears threatened to come back. “You really rejected her?”
“Read my heart.”
She did. She pushed through the surface and plunged its depths, but she was the only woman there.
“Please, Journey. Say you’ll stay with me.”
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she opened her eyes again, he was smirking at her.
“Don’t act like you don’t want to.” His voice was tauntingly confident.
“Why are you so cocky?”
He quirked a brow at her, still smirking. “I’m your slave, remember? And you did just try to rape me few minutes ago.”
“I did not!”
He caught her chin in his hand. “Did too.”
Her cheeks heated, but she recovered quickly. “It’s common knowledge that arrogance is often just a bluff to cover insecurities…I think I’ll have to stay so as not to damage you permanently. Your ego is way too fragile to handle a blow like me leaving.”
“Whatever.” He threw back at her.
He silenced her giggle, kissing her until she couldn’t breathe and her head spun.
“Why did you come here?”
She had to blink a few times and focus on his question. “Oh…I’ve never seen the Heart. I was determined to before I left.”
“Well, let’s go see it then.”
She took his hand and let him lead her to the Heart.
Journey stared at the Heart for a long time, feeling it deep inside her. It wasn’t just called the Heart, it was a heart. The truest heart she had ever encountered, and it was diseased. Regia’s heart was confused, poisoned, and erratic. But it held a well of power she couldn’t comprehend. Now she understood why the wizards wanted Regia. It was the Heart.
She came right up to the crystal trees and touched their cold trunks with her fingertips. She touched them all in turn, except for the one that was different, cloudy. Journey gazed into the trunk and saw the image of two people, entwined lovers, frozen and unmoving, like an etching inside the crystal.
Redge waited for her a few paces back. She walked back to him, disturbed and contemplating.
“There’s something wrong here… And I think I can help fix it.”
Chapter Twenty Four
The most important people in the world to Forest stood around her at the blighted site that had been the Fair. She’d cried herself out over the loss of her friends who had died there, and now her eyes were over-dry and achy. The twelve-foot spire of alabaster-like Belliss stone from Kyhael was already in the center of the area, ready to have the names of the dead carved into it.
She looked over at Merick and Netriet. “Are you ready?”
They both nodded.
“We don’t want to forget anyone.”
“We won’t,” Merick reassured her.
Rahaxeris stepped forward and placed his hand on the stone and looked back at Forest.
“Tek, Martia, Renee, Koll…” She listed their names as Rahaxeris moved his hand over the surface, carving the names with his power. Whenever she paused for even a second, Merick chimed in, listing off names she hadn’t spoken yet. Soon every side was covered in names.
“That’s all of them,” Merick said heavily.
Rahaxeris stepped back, his job finished, giving Syrus space to come up and begin his part. Syrus laid both of his hands flat on the smooth stone and muttered a few words under his breath. A surge of red light went into the stone from his hands. The light pooled into the carved names, lighting them up red. He stepped back.
“You have a few minutes,” Syrus said to Forest, Merick, and Netriet.
They came forward and touched each name in turn. Forest thought of the memory she wanted left behind for Tek as her index finger traced the carved letters of his name. Syrus’ power grabbed at the memory she offered and held it fast in the stone. She pulled her hand back and moved to the next one. Merick offered the stone his memories and so did Netriet.
“Did it work?” Forest asked Kindel, who was witnessing and waiting.
Kindel stepped forward and touched one name at random. He’d never met the person named, but as he touched the carved letters, the face and voice came into his mind along with the pleasant memory Forest had left there.
“It worked,” Kindel said quietly, effected deeply by the memorial. “It’s beautiful.”
Ena walked up to it and touched it. She took a longer time than Kindel, slowly absorbing the memories. When she came away, there were tears in her eyes.
“How do we protect it?” Merick asked.
“Merhl?” Forest looked over at the ogre.
He came forward, moving his hands around energy and power none of them could see. A ripple moved down from the top of the monument and rolled down to the ground. Merhl stepped back.
“Anyone will be able to touch the stone and receive the memories left behind, but no one will be able to deface the stone or break it. It is safe.”
Forest hugged him tightly. “Thank you, Merhl.”
His massive arms swallowed her up. “It was no problem…Oh, here, before I forget.” He held out his hand, a new End of the Bridge in his palm, set into a ring. “I heard you lost your other one in your ordeal.”
She smiled and took it. “Sometimes I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
Merhl blushed and shook his head.
The afternoon grew cold, a mist stretched over the ground. Everyone left the memorial, dropping off one by one, until no one was left but Forest, Syrus, and Rahaxeris. Syrus rubbed Forest’s shoulders in an attempt to warm her against the chill in the air.
Rahaxeris faced her and touched her distended stomach gently. “Not much longer. I have to leave Regia for a while, but I’ll be back before the baby comes. I promise.”
“Okay, Father. Be careful.”
He nodded and left them alone.
Syrus kissed the top of her head and looked over at the monument. “It’s beautiful, Forest. You did a good job.”
“I didn’t do much. You and Dad and Merhl did most—”
“It was your idea.” He pulled her tightly against his side. “Let’s go home.”
Epilogue
Two months later…
The Rune-dy headquarters were a mess. Rahaxeris was working tirelessly to find a solution to protect Regia from the wizards. But there in Kyhael, he was a one-man show. Sure, there were others kicking ideas around and having as much or less success as he was. He’d started world jumping out of desperation, trying to call on the benevolence or resources of other places for help or answers.
Not everyone had turned a cold shoulder, but he was also pressed for time to get back before Forest gave birth. She went into labor in the middle of the night, in a terrible storm. The summons arrived for him to come quickly.
It was unconventional for the father of a woman to oversee the birth, but then everything with Forest seemed to be unconventional. She’d asked him to deliver the baby because of her constant fear that something was amiss. So he’d agreed.
Syrus waited it out, outside in the storm. It was customary for Regian fathers to not witness the birth of their children. So he banished himself to the garden despite the fact it was pouring rain. Even through the thunder crashing over his head, Syrus heard his child cry out for the first time.
A few moments later, Rahaxeris came out. “It’s a girl. Forest has named her Tesla.”
“Tesla?”
Syrus’ smile lit up the night, and he made to go inside to meet his daughter. Rahaxeris grabbed him roughly by the arm and stopped him.
“Wait. This isn’t the joyous occasion you think it is. You need to be prepared before you go in there.”
“What?” Syrus demanded.
“There’s something very wrong with the baby.”
The End
Blood Lock
The Legends of Regia
By
Tenaya Jayne
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2016 by Tenaya Jayne
Prologue
Shreve gasped, waking suddenly from a deep sleep. He clutched at his chest as his heart turned into a clock. The thumping tissue now kept time, counting down. Desperation ran cold and constant, just under his skin. He didn’t have much life left to live. The knowledge that he was dying slid easily inside him like the blood in his veins. Was it real? How did he know for sure his body would soon begin to shut down?
He couldn’t answer. He just knew.
He blinked and rubbed his face. His hands moved methodically over the planes of the bone structure. It wasn’t the right one. It wasn’t his face.
He lay back and gazed at the Bellis stone ceiling of his Kyhael apartment. It was time to move on. He’d lived as an elf for months. From the very first day, he knew it wasn’t the right fit, but he wanted to stay close to Rahaxeris. Not that Rahaxeris knew he was there. Or perhaps he did. There wasn’t much Rahaxeris didn’t know. But since he wasn’t going to make contact with the Rune-dy, there was no point in him staying any longer in Kyhael. It had been a good place for him to keep his ear to the ground.
He’d learned Forest was now revered as the savior, since Copernicus had died by her hand. There were wild rumors since she’d had her child. No one had seen her. She’d made no public appearances. Some believed her to have died in childbirth. He listened to all the gossip, but he didn’t put much stock in any of it. Forest was alive, he was sure of it.
He didn’t need to worry about her. She didn’t need him, and he needed to focus on his task.
What would he try next? Everything.
So little time, his body warned. He must search harder, faster. What a tragedy it would be if he failed. Always confused, he grappled with the ancient, universal questions of right and wrong. Sometimes wrong was very clear in regard to his bloody memories. His hands were guilty. His heart, however, was still in question.
He got up from the bed and went to the mirror. Copernicus stared back at him. His teeth clenched in anger. It wasn’t his face.
Shreve moved his elf DNA to the forefront with only a thought. His features changed accordingly without any other effort on his part. He wasn’t just shifting to look like an elf. He was an elf, and a shifter, ogre, vampire, werewolf, and also wizard. He longed to be just one thing. Because he was everything, he was nothing.
He left the apartment. No one stopped him as he exited through the gates of the city. He traveled light with only one change of clothes and Forest’s old silver sword. The morning light kissed his troubled head as he ventured out into the wilderness that stretched out between the clusters of civilization.
Off in the distance, the silhouette of the Lair, the mountain where the werewolves lived, obstructed his view of the sky. He had yet to try to live as wolf. He moved toward the defiant mountain range. It would be where he searched next.
Shreve wasn’t searching for the answer to save Regia from the wizards. He was searching for himself. For the moral compass he never had, his own identity, and yes, he searched to find his real face. And that was all he wanted now that he knew he was dying. To know who he really was, before it was all over.
Chapter One
The warm golden afternoon sunlight stretched through the windowpanes over Forest as she gazed at her baby daughter, sleeping in her arms. Forest felt, as most mothers do, that her baby was the most beautiful ever born. Despite her bias, it was damn near true. Tesla was a breathtakingly beautiful child in spite of her abnormalities. Her tiny baby hands, curled into fists, rested on her chest. The veins in her hands glowed electric red, brightly contrasting against her pale skin. As if her hands were covered with red lace or henna tattoos. When Tesla curled her hand around Forest's index finger, the power that throbbed from the baby was stingingly painful to her.
Aside from her hands, Tesla bore marks on her chest, over her heart. Every time her heart beat, a red glow surged out from her heart and visibly ran up through the veins around it. The red light on her chest looked like the outline of a flower.
The rocking chair creaked rhythmically as Forest ran the tips of her fingers over and over her daughter's cheek and through the silky wisp of black hair on her head. Tesla had Syrus' coloring. Black hair and gray eyes. But her ears were pointed at the top like Forest's, and although her eyes were the same color as her father's, the shape of them was clearly her mother's.
Forest’s fear and heartbreak surrounding the distortion inside her daughter didn’t hinder her love or the fierce passion she had to protect her child. Tesla owned her heart completely, the moment she was born. And Forest would do everything in her power to help her baby.
Rahaxeris was due any minute now. He came every day to treat the swelling power that throbbed in Tesla’s hands. She couldn’t stop crying otherwise. She wailed something awful most of the time. Forest cried herself to sleep almost every night because she felt like she was incapable of soothing her child’s pain. Forest simply didn’t know what to do.
Syrus had it easier with Tesla. She would quiet for him and look directly into his eyes. She would splay her tiny fingers on his skin, his power snapping and dancing with hers. Direct contact with Syrus was the only other thing that seemed to bring relief to the child. Forest hated that she was jealous of the easy connection they had, but she was.
Forest smiled down at Tesla and shook her head. She was already daddy’s girl. She marveled, as she did a few times every day, at the fact that she was a mother. It was weird as well when she thought about Syrus being a father. Her powerful, tall drink of water, mage was a father. Yeah… weird.
Four months had passed since Tesla had been born, but still, Forest had yet to actually go back to work. She had healed quickly, within hours of giving birth. Her stomach flattened back out in a week, and her body mostly returned to its previous state, with the exception of her hips, that had gone a bit wider. She wanted to try and work them down originally, but Syrus’ response to her changed frame caused her to rethink that. The subtle addition to her figure drove him wild.
A small smile curved the side of Forest’s mouth as she thought about him. Life felt too hard, and she didn’t think she could have kept her head up if she didn’t have Syrus. Something dark and heavy had entered her heart the night Tesla was born. Rahaxeris’ look and voice replayed over and over in her mind. There’s something wrong. From her first day as a mother, her joy, soft and vibrant in the center, had razor edges of pain. She’d never even had the temporary reprieve of denial. All she had to do was look at Tesla to know it was true.
Her daughter was in pain. Would she always be in pain? There was too much magic inside her. It ran wild and rampant through her like a mess of frayed, electrical live wires. Would the abundance slacken as she grew? Would her mind be fractured?
Forest’s throat clenched She felt desperate for answers, and terrified at the same time. She hoped all her worry was unneeded. Perhaps Tesla would grow easily, and her physical problems would solve themselves as she matured. Perhaps people would accept her because she was so beautiful and overlook her abnormalities.
Forest would take her sword to the cr
uelty of the world, if only she could. If only cruelty wasn’t often invisible and intangible, she would slash it to death without mercy. Her arms tightened protectively around her baby, and she leaned down and pressed a kiss to her sweet forehead.
If they didn’t find a way to stop the wizards, Tesla would never reach adulthood.
Forest sighed, closed her eyes, and leaned her head against the back of the rocking chair. She pushed the chair into motion again with the slightest pressure of her heel against the floor and contemplated the biggest problem. No matter which way she considered it, Regia had no chance in a war against the wizards. There was no strategy, or weaponry, that could defeat them. They must be stopped before they could come in. Regia needed a wall that could hold back their force and keep them out.
It’s not hopeless. It’s not! She told herself forcefully.
Regia’s best talents and minds were working tirelessly to solve the nasty equation. Her father, her mate, all of the masters of the Kata, Merhl, among many others. And now they had Journey. Journey had said many times that she didn’t have an answer. But Forest believed when they found an answer, Journey would contribute a great deal, in the unique way only she could.
Her mind banged around and around on the problem. Nothing had changed. No new ideas came to her. She dozed off. Just a few moments of relaxation. Her breathing slowed, and the rocking chair stood still. It was short. Tesla roused and placed her tiny palm against Forest’s neck, jolting her awake with a painful snap of electrical energy. Forest’s muscles jerked in response to the pain, and Tesla began to cry.