by Tara Brown
Sword of Storms
Tara Brown
The Sword of Storms
Stones of Amaria
Book Two
A Novel by Tara Brown
Copyright 2019 Tara Brown
This is a work of fiction.
All names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
Text Copyright © 2019 Tara Brown
This work is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This work may not be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the express written consent of the publisher.
Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. No alteration of content is permitted.
Published by Tara Brown.
Printed in the United States of America
Cover Art by Design by Definition
Edited by Andrea Burns
All rights reserved.
ISBN - 9781689164108
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Contents
Map
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
Epilogue
The End
Also by Tara Brown
Foreword
The Blood
Other Books by Tara Brown
About the Author
For Gus, my Ollie
Map
Chapter 1
The view of Blockley grew smaller and smaller from the queen’s ship until the massive boat rounded the corner and the town vanished, taking with it the mysterious dome of protection Lenny had wished for. She wanted to ponder her new ability and why it had felt natural to make the dome, or why she hadn’t been shocked by it. One moment she was average, and the next not. And there had been no warning, no explanation as if she’d stepped into someone else’s body and was already making herself comfortable.
But there was no point in pondering, not when she was stuck staring at the sea, searching for her sister and Wen. She couldn’t make herself care enough about the newly acquired skills. Her mind was set on the losses she faced, more so than how they had come to pass.
As she watched the last of Blockley’s surrounding islands fade into the horizon, Lenny’s heart sank with the realization she might not be back in time for the birth of Wilfred’s baby. She wanted to be but had an ominous feeling about going back home.
Somewhere in the back of her mind, a voice whispered, not yet.
Gran was correct. Lenny was taking whatever the darkness and trouble were, with her. Which she hoped meant Blockley would be fine if she stayed away. Maybe the dome would save them.
She leaned out against the damp railing, fighting the strong wind as it lifted her hair. Her aunt Mildred had forced her to wear it down with small braids at the sides only, instead of the heavy braid she preferred when out to sea. But Mildred was inexperienced at being on the water. She didn’t know how large hair could get when the wind and spray got at it. She only cared about proper decorum and being in the queen’s presence was making it worse. Which was odd since her mother and aunt were strangely familiar with the queen though they had scarcely mentioned her before.
The waves and wind and the sound of the water brought back the words the queen had spoken, referring to Lenny’s mother as “a lady of the lake.” What lake? Her mother hardly spoke of her life before Blockley and certainly had not mentioned a lake.
As she discovered Aunt Mildred lingering in her peripheral, Lenny pushed these thoughts away. She would have to wait for her aunt to be gone before she asked her mother anything.
Leaning out slightly more, she noticed a large crow flying next to the boat. She’d hardly seen crows leave the harbor before, let alone fly out to sea as a gull would. She was stretched out so far, staring it, she ought to have been misted by the waves meeting the bow. But the ship was so large that the spray from the waves and the sea was almost nonexistent that high up. It was the largest boat she’d been on, and by far the fanciest. When it came to town, the Blockley locals had spent hours marveling over the royal cruiser. As if they had forgotten Wilfred, Amaya, and Wen were gone.
She pushed that thought away too, supposing they wanted to be distracted by something good rather than focusing on the bad and watched the bird. It kept pace with the ship, gliding on the salty breeze.
“Quite the fancy ship,” Aunt Mildred said as she strolled over. “Don’t suppose you’ve been on one like this before?” She tried to maintain her composure and snideness, but the wind had her long dark locks and she was struggling to contain them, making them match Lenny’s wild hair.
“I haven’t,” Lenny answered but she didn't care about the boat or the fineries aboard. She was stuck staring out at the strange crow and beyond that the coastline. They were just passing the first of the Cliffs of Moyer. The guardians, though they appeared tiny, were becoming visible even from this far out. The massive statues stood watching over the Rimouby Sea and all of Dahleigh’s people. She wished they’d guarded Wilfred better.
Seeing the outcroppings of the rocks and the sheer cliff faces stopped her breath.
Her brother’s watery graveyard.
A graveyard Amaya patrolled now, hopefully.
“It’s said the eyes of the guardians were linked to the true guardians of Dahleigh, the elves. And they could channel and be able to see with them, observing the whole Rimouby coastline from as far away as the Cerne Mountains,” Lord Ivor said as he walked to the two ladies, leaning on the railing.
“Indeed. I’ve heard that as well. Old fishermen’s tales if you ask me.” Mildred scoffed. “I ought to check on your mother. Excuse me.” She bowed at Lord Ivor, as if it were his mother and not Lenny’s, and left.
Being alone with Lord Ivor made Lenny uneasy. He had become another uncomfortable uncertainty when neither the sentiments he had spoken nor the affection he had shown her had endured. At least not since lightning had shot from her darkened fingertip. He had practically avoided her from the moment it happened until it was time to leave Blockley. Not that she blamed him. Had he been the one to shoot lightning, she might have run in the opposite direction from him.
“It must have been an amazing sight once upon a time. Do you ever ponder how Moyer looked before the Great War? Or any of the lands?” He stared at the cliffs with great admiration. But she didn’t feel the same way.
“Not really,” she answered, realizing she rather accepted Moyer as it stood. “I don’t know enough about the Great War to think about that. Our educational focus on Dahleigh was never its murky history, at least not in school in Blockley.”
“May I speak freely?” Lord Ivor cut her off, lowering his tone, noting her
s was distant, as it had been for days. “I’ve been meaning to say this to you for days, but the words are never there.”
“If I may go first—please?” she asked.
“Of course.” She’d caught him by surprise.
“What—what you said to my father, about protecting me with your life, I don’t hold you to that,” she said in a soft tone to the sea, and him. “I hold you to nothing you admitted to before—” She didn’t have the heart to finish the sentence.
“You don’t have to hold me to anything.” He turned, staring down on her. His pause and intense gaze forced her to look up at him. “I hold myself to it.” His brow knit and his lips moved as though they wanted to speak, but he said nothing more.
“When you spoke before—before the beach—it was without the knowledge of what I—whatever I am.” What was she? What exactly had happened? She needed answers because pushing the thoughts away was not working if they lingered on the tip of her tongue.
“Your destiny doesn’t scare me, Lenny,” he offered with a heavy sigh. “What kind of man would I be if I offered you my heart but took it back when confronted by your craggy path? And we don’t yet know your path. Perhaps, it was all a miracle of the gods, a gift to save us against evil and now it’s gone.”
His words felt false in the same manner the magic inside her felt right.
“You’re correct. I don’t know my path. It might be craggy, it might be worse, fiery even. I am at a complete loss for what to expect, which isn’t helped by my being blinded with fear and grief. I cannot ask you to take responsibility for me, no matter how much I wish not to be alone.” She was setting him free from his past words and feelings, but he was too stubborn to see it. “You owe me nothing.”
“I am yours, however you wish me to be. Your friend. Your protector. Your cousin by marriage.” He reached forward, taking her hand in his. “And as long as I draw breath, you will not be alone. I expect nothing in return, Lenny. Your life has changed in the blink of an eye. Surely, the only thing on your mind is finding out who you are and how this came to pass.” He lifted her hand and kissed the back of it. “And why your friend’s mother would do such cruel acts, magic aside. She not only allowed her only child to—change but also killed your brother.” He kissed a second time. “So no, I do not want to be relieved of my duties. I swore to protect you, and I mean what I say. We will not discuss this further.”
“Then all I can say is thank you,” she whispered, closing her eyes and letting a measure of her emotion seep out.
“Don't thank me, count on me. I am here for you.” He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and held her to him. In that instant, Lenny acknowledged and accepted the strange connection she had with Lord Ivor, and that she had sensed it from the moment they met. Something she fought but was losing the battle. The war was over.
“Lenny, come and see!” Hilde waved her over excitedly from the stairs leading to the quarters below.
“Excuse me, milord,” Lenny said with an annoyed tone. “My sister must be overcome by the majesty of the boat. Apparently, she has forgotten we are in mourning.” She offered a slight bow and walked to Hilde with Scar at her side. Ollie lifted his head from where he lay next to the stairs in a large bed made to appear small by his size. Lenny lifted her hand. “Stay,” she commanded.
“I’ll stay with him.” Lord Ivor followed her but stopped at Ollie, sitting next to him and stroking his ears.
“Thank you,” Lenny said again, entering the staircase that she had to admit was finer than any she had seen in a home, let alone another ship. She wondered if that was truly what Hilde was excited about, the fine furnishings. Which wasn’t impossible to believe. Hilde was one to recover quickly, putting on a brave face and being whom she needed to be at the time.
But as Lenny walked down the corridor, she paused, finding her sister sitting on a stunning canopy bed in their appointed bedroom.
“Look!” Hilde exclaimed as she pointed at the porthole.
Lenny rushed forward, her eyes widening when she saw them. There was no mistaking the faces, despite the larger eyes and bluish skin that shimmered in the sunlight.
Lenny wanted to dive from the boat and swim with them, hold them, hug them.
“She’s alive,” Hilde whispered as she cried softly, hardly making a sound. She pressed her hand against the glass. “They both are.”
“I told you.” Lenny raised her hand, pressing it next to her sister’s in the large porthole. She was relieved to see them, and it meant she wasn’t losing her mind.
She leaned into Hilde, watching as the ship sailed past the two bobbing figures.
As the boat moved beyond them, they swam ahead, tails flipping from the water, shimmering in the sunlight, riding the waves like porpoises did most summers, racing ships and leaping into the air.
Lenny’s chest ached as she watched Wen and her sister, grateful they had each other but missing them both more than she could bear.
“They at least seem to be having fun.” Hilde’s shoulders slumped. “Though I suppose I should be thankful we have this at all. Moments such as this. I want to be happy she is alive and celebrate that we were lucky.” Her stare caught Lenny’s. “But I don't feel lucky. Truthfully, I feel cursed.”
“Me too,” Lenny agreed, blinking her tears down her cheeks. “I don’t understand anything, though I suppose I’ve pieced together some details of that night.”
“What details?”
“I believe Mrs. Knightly conjured the storms using magic, killing Wilf purposefully. Lord Ivor agrees.”
“Why?”
“Uncle Alek said a naked young woman washed ashore with the same darkened fingers as Mrs. Knightly had.” Lenny paused and lifted her cleaned finger. “The woman had to have done some sort of dark magic like Wen’s mom, perhaps with Wen’s mom. I doubt it’s a coincidence I found the stone in the same harbor the dead witch washed ashore, in the same harbor where Wen’s mom lived, in the same harbor two storms struck within a month of each other. It’s all connected, it has to be.” Something else clicked into place. “The boat Uncle asked me to inspect with the strange markings on it.” Lenny paused and stared at her hand. “The scratches in the boat matched my fingers. Perhaps, Mrs. Knightly sent monsters she made with magic to attack boats near the harbor.”
“To ensure you were in the water. They wanted you to find the stone,” Hilde whispered. “It’s the key. The stone. Where is it?” She took Lenny’s scarred hand and turned it over, staring at the palm.
“I don’t know. I must have dropped it back in the water.” Lenny couldn’t recall where it had gone.
“That’s why Mrs. Knightly celebrated, saying that riddle. You’ve done something she wanted you to do all along.” Hilde lifted her grave stare to meet Lenny’s.
“I think I might have,” Lenny admitted. “Which means I’ve become part of her evil plan.” Dread pushed down on her chest, making it difficult to get a breath.
“Oh, Lenny,” Hilde said with a sigh, unlike how she normally spoke Lenny’s name. “At least maybe they’ve escaped all this.” She glanced back at the Rimouby Sea. “Who could hurt them now?”
“I will pray to the gods no one can.” Silently, Lenny cast another protection bubble; green light, pink globe, silver ray of grace, and surrounded her sister and Wen.
The sisters sat in the window, Lenny silently chanting as they stared until the two swimming shapes vanished below in the dark waters.
“Did you see them?” their mother asked from the doorway. Her eyes were red and swollen, again. Aunt Mildred wasn’t with her.
Lenny nodded as Hilde rushed their mother, sobbing into her arms.
Elsie comforted her eldest child. Not just eldest daughter, but child. She had gone from four children to two in a month. And the pain was so complete that she didn’t know how to endure it. But as she lost them, she sensed herself slipping away as they took pieces of themselves with them. Leaving behind a shell, a husk.
“They ca
me to see us off,” Elsie whispered. “They remember us.”
Lenny realized it wasn't at all as the legend depicted. Hithu’s father, the king, had written in his memoirs that Hithu had forgotten him and the world of men. Amaya’s and Wen’s minds were there, obviously aware. Lenny sat on the ledge next to the porthole and pulled her legs in, hugging her arms around herself. She stared out the window and watched for her sister and her best friend as Scar came and rested her head on Lenny’s lap.
Elsie took a deep breath and said the very thing she wished she didn’t have to, “I know we are all broken, devastated by the losses we have endured.” She came further into the room, closing the door. “But we must think to the future.”
Lenny turned her head sharply, but her mother lifted a hand.
“Let me finish, for the sake of the gods, Lenny.” Elsie sighed deeply with her hands up, silencing her youngest child. “I’m not saying you have to move on or that you must stop being sad. I’m saying, don't let this define you. Don't let this stop you from having a future. Hilde, you will marry Prince Landon and you will be happy. Because this is not the end of Wilfred or Amaya. They live on, and not just in our hearts. And if we stop living, evil wins. Lorna wins.”
Lenny’s shoulders fell as she lost her anger at her mother’s words; she didn't mean what Lenny had assumed.
“I will be happy, Mother. Amaya and Wilfred would want us to live and love and find joy in everything. And I believe Amaya will have that with Wen.” Hilde nodded along with her words, though the sadness in her eyes flooded down her cheeks. “After today, I won’t be sad anymore.”