Copper Veins
Jennifer Allis Provost
© 2016 Jennifer Allis Provost
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 express written permission of the publisher, except in cases of a reviewer quoting brief passages in a review.
This book is a work of fiction. Places, incidents portrayed, and names, while at times based on historical figures, are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual locales, events, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental. Use of any copyrighted, trademarked, or brand names in this work of fiction does not imply endorsement of that brand.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data available upon request
First Edition: 2016
Jennifer Allis Provost
Copper Veins: a novel / by Jennifer Allis Provost – 1st ed.
p. cm.
Summary:
While Sara is thrilled to have finally married Micah,
her father’s disapproval makes her question if she’s made a mistake.
Published in the United States by Spencer Hill Press
www.SpencerHillPress.com
Distributed by Midpoint Trade Books
www.midpointtrade.com
ISBN
paperback: 9781633920095
eBook: 9781633920101
Printed in the United States of America
For those who never gave up on love
Prologue
It’s been an interesting few months.
It all started when I cut out during my lunch break and took a nap in my car. I had a dream—the best dream of my life—starring a sexy man with silver hair. That man turned out to be Micah Silverstrand, an elf from the Otherworld. Even though I’d hidden who and what I was for most of my life, Micah had instantly known that I was an Elemental like him. When I was a kid, Elementals and Mundane humans, of Mundanes, existed side by side; not quite in harmony, but we got along well enough. Then, there was a war, and the Mundane army won—ironically, they called themselves Peacekeepers. No matter what they called themselves, the Elementals still lost, and magic was declared illegal.
For me, the wars were much more personal since my father, Baudoin Corbeau, went missing and was presumed dead. A few years later, my older brother, Max, was arrested for using magic and shipped off to a detention facility. Micah helped me rescue him, and along the way we learned that my younger sister, Sadie, was the Inheritor of Metal, the most powerful metal Elemental in existence. That was a shocker. We also discovered that the Elemental ruler, the Iron Queen, was in with the Peacekeepers. Together, Micah, my family, and I defeated the Iron Queen and put a serious dent in the Peacekeepers’ operation, so that was good.
I also learned that my best friend, Juliana, was a Peacekeeper. That was not so good.
After the Iron Queen’s defeat, the Gold Queen was restored to power. Since the Corbeaus were fugitives, my family and I moved into Micah’s home in the Otherworld full time, which meant that poor Micah went from living by himself to having a house full of in-laws in the blink of an eye. Meanwhile, Max was hell bent on finding out what had happened to Dad. While he traipsed all over the Otherworld causing trouble, the Gold Queen held a grand event where everyone pledged a blood oath to her… everyone except Sadie. It wasn’t her fault, really—she just thought the blood was gross.
While Micah tried convincing the Gold Queen that the Inheritor wasn’t plotting against her, Max’s schemes to find Dad led us to the Goblin Market. We didn’t find Dad, but we did have a near fatal runin with one of the Gold Queen’s henchmen. Micah almost died. I have never been so scared in my entire life as when I thought I’d lose him.
But Micah lived, and after a few weeks, he fully recovered. We celebrated by getting married, and instead of Dad, Max walked me down the aisle. Then, in the strangest turn of events yet, Dad walked right up to our front door.
And here’s what happened next.
1
I couldn’t believe it.
He’d been gone for sixteen long, frustrating years. We’d searched everywhere for him, from the Mundane realm to the Otherworld’s Goblin Market. And after all of that, my father, Baudoin Corbeau, just walked up to the front door of the Silverstrand manor and swept me into his arms. It was a tad anticlimactic, but you know what? I decided I’d take it.
“You’re here. You’re really here,” I said, my voice muffled by his shoulder. He haden’t shaved, and his grown-in whiskers scraped my ear, just like they had the day he’d left for war.
“Of course I’m here,” Dad murmured. “I promised I’d come back to you, just as soon as it was safe. I’m sorry it took me so long.” We hugged for another moment, then he added, “I heard tell that you were all here, at the Silverstrand manor, but I hardly believed it was true. I never thought I’d be reunited with my family, in the Otherworld.”
I drew back at that, since he had a point. Dad probably thought that we’d abandoned the Raven Compound and a thousand-odd years of family history to live an easy life here in the Otherworld. Before I could explain that the old cellar—along with all the Corbeau artifacts it housed—was now firmly attached to the manor, Dad’s eyes alighted on his eldest child.
“Maximilien,” Dad said with a nod. “Do you remember what I said to you before I left?”
“Keep them safe,” Max whispered, his face bloodless. “Do whatever needs to be done, but keep your mother and sisters safe until I return.”
Dad nodded again and reached out to shake Max’s hand. “Well done, son,” Dad said, pulling Max into his arms. “Well done.”
While Max and Dad embraced, I looked toward Sadie and Mom. Sadie was staring at Dad, wide-eyed and trembling—she’d been so young when Dad had left, I wondered if she had any real memories of him. Mom, on the other hand, was wide-eyed with a different emotion.
“Can’t be,” she said, shaking her head. “It just can’t be.”
Dad heard Mom’s voice and abruptly released Max. “Maeve,” he murmured, taking her hands. “Maeve.” Then they were in each other’s arms, the rest of the world promptly forgotten. I should have turned away and let them have their own, private moment, but I couldn’t. I’d wanted this for so long.
Micah stood behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist, and I leaned back against his warmth. “I think this might be the best day of my life,” I whispered.
“It is already the best day of mine,” Micah murmured, kissing my hair.
“And where the bloody hell have you been?” Mom demanded. She shoved Dad away from her, then cupped his face in her hands, her eyes scanning his features as if to memorize them. “Max has told us of your clandestine meetings.”
“Forgive me my subterfuge,” Dad said. “There were… complications.”
“We thought you were dead,” Mom choked out.
“I may as well have been, without you.”
Mom’s eyes softened, and she was in his arms again. Dad had always known the right thing to say—in fact, he was the only one who could disarm Mom with just a few words. They whispered a few endearments to each other, then Mom drew Dad toward the youngest Corbeau.
“Beau, you remember our baby?” Mom asked.
“Sadie?” Dad’s eyes lit up. “My little girl, so big. So very, very big.” He folded Sadie into his arms, murmuring over and over that he was so sorry for missing so much of our lives, for being unable to return sooner.
“But we are all together again,” he said at last, turning so one arm was around Sadie’s shoulders, the other encircling Mom’s waist. “All the Corbeaus are together again.”
r /> “I’m not a Corbeau anymore,” I blurted out. It was so new it still felt a little foreign saying it. “I’m a Silverstrand now. Dad, this is Micah, my husband.”
Dad’s brows furrowed, then he looked at Micah for the first time. Only my father could waltz into the Lord of Silver’s home and make it his own. “You’re married?” Dad asked. “To…him?”
Micah stiffened but remained silent.
“Yeah. We got married earlier today,” I replied. I grasped Micah’s left hand and showed Dad our rings. Mine was a twining silver vine crowned with a deep green emerald, while Micah’s was a copper oak leaf. We’d made them ourselves right before we left for our wedding. “Max walked me down the aisle.”
Dad stared at our hands for a while, the creases in his forehead deepening when he noticed the silver mark that coiled around my wrist. It was a parting gift from a desperate attempt to save Micah’s life—we’d been attacked by Farthing Greymalkin, or Old Stoney, and Micah had used up all of his silver to stop the crazed earth Elemental. Micah had managed to kill him, but he’d nearly died in the process. In fact, when I found Micah buried under stone and ash, he was so cold and unresponsive that I’d thought the worst. Desperate, I’d called for the silverkin, hoping beyond hope that they would know how to help him.
Help had come in the form of the crone from the apothecary, who had informed me that, unless Micah’s silver was restored, he would not be able to heal himself. As ridiculous as that sounded, a similar tactic had been used to restore the Gold Queen after she had been freed from the Iron Court’s oubliette. Not having any other options, the silverkin had shaped themselves into a metal cave—no, cave isn’t the right term. It was tiny and airless and more like a metal straightjacket than a cave. But they’d formed it, and effectively buried Micah and me alive.
I’d stayed with Micah throughout the whole ordeal. And I would do it all again.
I also swore to the crone that I would owe her anything in exchange for the information on how to save Micah. Remember that old adage about not owing the fae? Take that to the nth degree when in the Otherworld.
I still hadn’t told Micah about my debt to the crone. It was a good thing Dad had finally returned to us—I had a feeling that I would need all the help I could get when she came to collect.
At my insistence, the silverkin had encased Micah and me in the living metal. My last-ditch effort to save Micah’s life had worked, and I’d ended up with a silver mark spiraling around my left wrist. Micah bore a matching copper mark on his right wrist. That’s right—we had built-in wedding rings (beat that, Tiffany’s) that nicely complemented the ones we wore on our fingers.
Dad stared at our hands—and my new silver mark—for so long that he made me nervous. Weren’t parents supposed to be happy when their children found who they wanted to share their lives with? Eventually, he said, “I wish I could have walked you myself.”
“Dad, it’s not like—”
“I know,” he said, waving my words away. “It’s just a dream a father has.” He straightened and looked Micah in the eye. “You are the Lord of Silver, then?”
“I am he,” Micah acknowledged. “I give you my word that I will take excellent care of your daughter.”
“See that you do.” Dad smiled, and I felt Micah relax. I hadn’t realized how much my father’s approval would mean to him—probably because I hadn’t had a father for so long—but at least Micah had gotten it. Sort of.
“We have the makings of a feast,” I said, gesturing at the banquet the silverkin had assembled. The setup was reminiscent of the Beltane celebration Micah and I had hosted a few weeks back, with long wooden tables set up in the gardens and piled high with food and drink. Already the residents of the Whistling Dell were arriving, bringing along gifts of food and wine and who knew what else. Really, around here it could be anything. “Would you… are you hungry, Dad?”
“I am,” he admitted, releasing Sadie and Mom so he could slip an arm around my shoulders, “and even though I missed my daughter’s wedding, at least I am able to be here and celebrate it with all of you.”
I leaned my head on Dad’s shoulder, and we walked out to the gardens together. Yes, this was without a doubt the very best day of my life.
2
Micah’s and my wedding reception was unusual, to say the least. Don’t get me wrong, it was wonderful in every sense of the word. I truly was the luckiest girl in any realm, given that Micah had broken Otherworldly tradition and married me before I had borne him an heir. I loved him for that, for his willingness to compromise for me, for just being himself. When you got right down to it, I just loved Micah for being Micah, my silver elf.
My silver elf husband.
However, unlike most brides on their wedding day, most of my attention was captured by another man—my father, the legendary resistance leader. When our own government had declared war on magic and sent forces of Peacekeepers to implant trackers in Elementals’ arms in an attempt to catalog us like animals in a zoo, my father had been called up by the war mages. He’d kissed me (then seven years old) and the rest of his family goodbye, and that was the last time I saw him.
Now, he was seated across from Micah and me, between Sadie and Mom, and was focused almost entirely on my sister. Figures. The little one always gets all the attention.
“Sara,” Dad said suddenly as if he were telepathic. He fixed his gaze on me, and I saw that his eyes were green like mine, not the pale coppery hues of Sadie and Max’s. I’d forgotten about that. “Tell me about your new husband. Where did you two meet?”
My face grew so hot I worried I’d boil the wine, but Micah didn’t miss a beat. “Sara pulled me into her dream,” he replied, thankfully leaving out the part about me not wearing any underwear. “Her power was so strong, I couldn’t resist her. Then I learned that she was a metal Elemental, like me, and I knew that we were meant to meet.”
“Another Dreamwalker,” Dad murmured. His quiet shock surprised me. Shouldn’t he have known that? Then again, he hadn’t seen me for sixteen years. I doubt I’d done much dreamwalking when I was seven. “Are you a Dreamwalker as well?” he asked Sadie.
“I’ve never tried,” she replied. “My dreams are calm. I don’t think I go anywhere in them.” Knowing Sadie, she had action-packed dreams about shelving books in an endless library or diagramming sentences.
“I never knew, either, until Micah popped up,” I said. “I didn’t even realize I was calling him until we shared a second dream.” I gazed into Micah’s silver eyes, remembering how he had appeared in my room, first as a dream but then in his waking form. I wondered what else would have happened that night if we hadn’t been interrupted by my fake best friend, Juliana.
“And how long ago were these dreams?” Dad prompted.
“Four, maybe five months ago?” I said, almost unsure. I’d had a hard time keeping track of time since coming to the Otherworld, especially since the death of Old Stoney. Micah had been so gravely injured during that fight, my sole concern had been his wellbeing, not ticking off days on a calendar.
“And you’ve married him already?” Dad demanded. My gaze jumped from my husband to my father—his disapproving tone turned my blood to ice.
“Now Beau,” Mom interjected, “that’s far longer than we’d known each other when we escaped the brugh.” I silently sent my thanks to Mom while the furrow between Dad’s brows deepened. “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten what it’s like to be young and in love?”
Dad sighed, drained his wineglass, and set it on the table. A silverkin refilled it in an instant. “I feel like I’ve forgotten so many things,” he mumbled, swirling the liquid in its glass. “Not the least of which is how to be a father.”
“I assume you have been in hiding since the wars ended?” Micah asked.
After staring at him for a few moments, Dad nodded.
“Were you in this realm, or the Mundane world?”
“Mostly here,” Dad answered. “In the beginning I trave
led between the two as my business warranted, but the Peacekeepers kept sniffing out my portals. For the last few years I’ve stayed in the Otherworld.”
“Business?” Mom asked. “You had business that brought you to the Mundane realm up until a few years ago?” What she left out was that he had never found the time to visit us, or even send a message letting us know he was still alive. Her tone and crushed expression made that all too plain.
“Maeve, I couldn’t risk it.” He took her hands in his, lightly squeezing her fingers. “If I’d contacted you and the Peacekeepers had learned of it, they would have arrested you and the girls. I couldn’t risk that, not after what happened to Max.”
“You knew I was in the Institute?” Max piped up, the first time he’d spoken since we sat.
“Who do you think rounded up iron warriors to break you out?” Dad replied. “Forgive me, son, for not planning that better.”
“Is that how The Iron Queen captured you?” I said, remembering how Old Stoney had taunted us just before Micah killed him. Just before Micah almost died.
“Yes,” Dad replied. “She turned me over to the Peacekeepers in charge of the Institute, but I managed to escape.” Dad looked down. “I… I did not want to leave you, Max, but I had to seize the opportunity. I was no good to you locked away.”
“S’alright,” Max said, leaning back with a grin. “Sara sprung me.”
“And Micah,” I said. Call me middle-child, but everyone seemed to be forgetting about Micah, and it was his wedding day, too. “I couldn’t have done it without Micah.”
“Yeah, Sara nearly got captured herself,” Max said, as if he’d been a credible witness to my first botched, deliberate dreamwalking attempt. At the time he’d been nothing more than a drugged-up lab rat. “Good thing Micah talked some sense into her or we’d both still be there.”
I scowled at Max, but before I could fire off a witty comment, Micah asked, “So, Baudoin, why now?”
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