Vivatera (Vivatera Series Book 1)

by Candace J Thomas

  UnderElm was a grand sight. The entire city was made of granite— smooth, polished, and intricately carved. Tall structures loomed high in the vast cathedral space. Shops and homes lined the torch-lit streets, as if they were on the surface. At the heart of this city grew a wonderful tree, its branches lit with balls of lights, creating a calming ambience.

  “The door is magically sealed.” Brandell’s voice was higher than the others’. “You will be safe here.”

  “Come,” Thornock ordered, and the group followed him down through the silent streets. They passed the tree on their way, and Zander had to stop and marvel.

  The lights of the tree were not lanterns at all. Instead, they were little round-shaped homes.

  “What are they?” he whispered.

  Hix stopped and gruffly said, “Fairies,” then marched on.

  How remarkable. Zander stared harder and thought he saw the little wings and bodies—unlike anything he had ever thought possible.

  Thornock led them through the streets to a small dwelling. A door carved with a boar’s head and winding branches stood at the entrance. The dwarf opened it and they went in.

  It was a modest living space: very cozy and warm and comfortably furnished, though everything was proportionately smaller.

  The visitors hardly fit. Too tall for the room, Bryant hunched down.

  “Please sit.” Brandell’s manners were cordial and kind, a refreshing change from their recent experiences.

  “Thornock?” a voice came from the upstairs of the home.

  “Mother, we have returned.”

  A tiny, squarely built lady descended the stairs to greet them.

  “You have them,” her little voice crackled. “You are so beautiful.” She reached for Silexa’s hand, a small tear coming to her eye. “Matlock told me of your beauty.”

  Silexa bent down and hugged the old woman as if she were her mother. “Thank you. Do you have a place for my sister to stay? She is ill.”

  The woman looked upon Ymber, barely alert to anything around her and on the verge of collapse.

  “Oh, yes, yes.” She turned to her sons. “Boys!”

  Within seconds, her sons took charge of the fading girl and led her to the upstairs rooms.

  ~*~

  After Thornock and the others returned, and Bryant had found a solid wooden chair to sit in, he asked, “You must explain, how did you find us?”

  Thornock puffed on his pipe and smiled. “I was in the palace with Matlock. He often returned home. Family’s vital to him, but I hadn’t seen him in a while. We all knew what he was doing and how important it was. But he said he was nervous about the princess’ safety. So, he asked me to help. I was there when he died.” The room became solemn and reverent.

  Silexa’s eyes widened with shock. “Matlock is dead?”

  “Oh, yes, princess. My brother was murdered by the same creature who led you away tonight.”

  “How is that possible?”

  “I was in hiding near the secret room. He came to find me. We returned to the room and found the form of a young woman, unconscious. When she began to stir, Matlock shoved me behind some tapestries. I witnessed the entire bloody mess.”

  Thornock stopped in his telling to collect himself. “So, I followed her. This girl collected blood from him and drank it. Then she did something I have never seen before: she transformed into my brother. Disguised as him, she passed through the security. I kept a watchful eye on her. On the day of the feast, she passed a tall, blond man and persuaded him to follow. Within minutes, I found him dead and his blood collected and used. After that, I lost sight of her.”

  “But how did you find her again?” Silexa asked.

  “I searched for days to find the girl. She could have been anyone. But she made a mistake. I saw the same blond man again. Knowing he was dead, I followed him. He went into what was once the prince’s chamber and found a large cloak and some other things. Then I saw him transform again into a teenage girl.

  “I had known her for years. Giselle lived among our kind as a child. I knew her and loved her as one of our own. The sight disgusted me—to think that this murderous thing was killing anyone it wanted and using their appearance. It was wrong, and anger filled me. I needed to make it stop. I was the only one who knew, so I followed her. She met with the king, and I listened in on their conversation.”

  Bryant leaned forward in interest. “But how?”

  “I’m very sensitive to rock vibrations, so I listened,” Thornock explained. “I heard her plans, so I decided to get there first. I discussed it with my brothers. We decided to stop her, and it’s lucky I did. I don’t know if she could have gotten into UnderElm disguised as Matlock, but if she had, our world would be in jeopardy.”

  “Where did you take her?” Silexa’s voice quivered with emotion.

  “Hix will get her on a ship. That should take her far from here.”

  “But if she murdered so many, why did you leave her alive?”

  Thornock raised his eyebrows, surprised. “I do not kill. We are a peaceful people, and I will not raise my hammer in anger. Do you think me just as her?”

  Silexa became silent, looking as though she wished she had never asked.

  Thornock puffed on his pipe thoughtfully. “My brother did not share my ideas, so I can’t say the outcome would have been the same if I had fallen instead of him.”

  Bryant rubbed his unshaven chin, curious. “What did my father say—when he was speaking to the Louving assassin?”

  Thornock looked to the princess. “That you and all your sisters are in danger. He is hunting for you. Down here, you are safe. The tree protects us. If we could get all your sisters here, they would be safe.”

  “Not safe enough, I’m afraid,” Bryant interjected. “We are too close to the palace. Sharrod is up there right now, scouring the city. We’re endangering you as we speak.”

  Zander listened intently to the conversation and wished he knew somewhere safe they could go.

  Thornock held his tongue, seeming to mull the matter over a moment. “What do you propose?”

  Silexa exchanged a glance with Bryant, standing up. “There is a place up north I know of that would be far safer than any earthly place. But getting there could be dangerous.”

  “I am prepared to fight if I have to.” Bryant clenched his fist.

  Silexa stopped him. “You do not understand me. As a bearer, I am prepared to die—”

  “Silexa,” Bryant started to protest, but she hushed him with her finger.

  “I have known most of my life that it could come to this end. If I call my sisters, they will come. Sharrod cannot have the stones. I must protect them, even if that means I have to die.”

  Silexa gazed at the people in the room, ending on Zander’s face. Her sad smile couldn’t hide the reality of what she must do, and it broke his heart to see it.

  “I’m not going to let you die.” Bryant grabbed her hands. “There has to be another way.”

  “I am cursed. If there is, I don’t know it.”

  “Let’s look for it, then. Do you know where your sisters are?”

  Silexa shook her head. “I have not been in contact with any of them for years.”

  “Would Ymber?”

  “I cannot ask her now. I must wait for her to get some rest. But more than likely, she doesn’t know either.”

  The room fell silent for a moment.

  “. . . I know,” Zander spoke up from the corner. He knew things the others didn’t. The time had come to share. He fumbled underneath his cloak for his hidden pouch. He pulled out what looked like a wad of brown paper bound together with string. “This is hers.”

  Silexa seemed to understand. “Naomi?”

  “Naomi has . . . a burn mark on her n-neck, like yours. This is hers.”

  “What is it?”

  “Her dream journal. I kept it w-with me ever since the day she dis . . . appeared. It doesn’t look im-mportant. No one cared about it.”


  He handed the manuscript over to Silexa and she thumbed through the pages. It described places Naomi had seen: six young women, all with stones around their necks. On the last page, she told of Ymber and Jaxon, her protector, and the beast that hunted them. It went into frightening detail.

  “But, how . . .?” Silexa started. Tears of confusion shimmered in her eyes. “I don’t know her.”

  Zander met her gaze. “I have pieced it together. I think she is . . . your sister.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  The Echoes

  Taren’s world changed when he kissed Naomi. His magic knew where to find the answers, but it wanted more than her touch could give. What he found confirmed his theory. Her magic flowed the same as the medallion. He had never experienced anything so wonderful——but that only made the decision harder.

  Frantic to find her, Taren searched the trees and rocks, hacking every vine he saw, without discovering any hint of where she’d gone. He could no longer deny the frustrating conclusion: Naomi must have made it over the river—which meant there must be a way across.

  Taren heard rustling behind him to the north and saw two women arguing, both with braids to their waist. Best avoid detection as much as possible. Light on his feet, he headed south, staying close to the raging mountain river, all the while looking for any hint of Naomi. The trails looked as though no one had traveled them for years.

  Then he stopped. A muddy boot print pressed in the soft grass near the edge of the river. The track looked fresh—a large print made with firm pressure. He could tell a tall man’s stride had made this—in a hurry, careless. Taren searched further. Two other prints accompanied the first. Naomi’s little bare foot couldn’t be found among them.

  A small smile crept over his face. These belonged to Landon, Katia, and Micah, moving with haste, desperate to find their friend—a perfect opportunity.

  Taren followed the footprints to a drop in the river. Large boulders sat in the middle, providing an excellent route for crossing. With caution, Taren leapt forward across the rocks until he reached the opposite side. The large boot prints picked up again, and he continued to track them over the mountainside.

  He noticed one print—Micah’s little boot—disappeared from the others. As a ground dweller, had he separated from them to find an alternate entrance into the caves?

  Ahead, Taren saw a large cave open up by the edge of the trail. As he crept closer, he heard voices inside, echoing off the walls.

  “I don’t get it, though,” Katia complained. “What did Micah mean about ‘The Deceivers’?”

  “Someone mentioned them in the inn. What did he call them? Lordings?”

  “Laughlings.”

  “Whatever, but he said they’re shape-shifters.”

  Louvings. Shape-shifters who drank the blood of their victims and could take on their form. The game had just become more interesting. He crouched behind a boulder, waiting for his opportunity.

  Landon continued, “. . . and if they can turn into whatever they want, how will we know if anyone is really who they are?”

  “Do you think these shape-shifters took Micah?”

  “Probably.”

  “We should come up with some sort of code, right? So that I know it’s you and not someone else.”

  Landon seemed to be suppressing a laugh. “Okay, what’s our code?”

  “I’ll ask you a question that only you will know.” Katia paused in thought. “Like, what’s my favorite flower?”

  “Sunflower?”

  “No! Come on. You know.”

  “Chrysanthemum?”

  “Snowdrops,” she huffed. “I thought that would be easy.”

  “How am I supposed to know your favorite flower?”

  “Okay, what’s my favorite food?”

  “I don’t know. Ham?”

  Katia gagged. “You have to know this. You made fun of me for liking it.”

  “When?”

  “Last year. After Leto ganged up on Micah and me and you slid your foot out to trip him as he left the hall.”

  “You remember that?”

  “I don’t forget the good parts, just the bad parts.” Her voice fell quiet. “It’s peaches, by the way.”

  “And that was why your hair was that same color.”

  “Right.”

  “Okay, then. That will be our code word. Peaches.”

  Silence fell. Taren thought up a plan of action in the brief quiet, knowing he needed to act soon.

  “You know,” Landon spoke up, “you complain about me not knowing things I should about you, but you don’t know that much about me.”

  “I know more than you think.”

  “Okay, amaze me.”

  “You’re smile is crooked when you lie. And you never eat anything that is green.”

  “I didn’t think anyone would know that. I hate leafy green things.”

  “I know you’re in love with Naomi.”

  “Wait—what?”

  Taren sat up. The conversation just became amusing.

  “You are. All the guys are. But you especially.”

  “Wait, Kat—”

  “Don’t lie to me. I can tell.”

  “Do I have a crooked smile?”

  She paused. “That doesn’t matter. I know what I know.”

  “There is an appeal about Naomi, I won’t hide that. But it’s not what you think. I want to improve myself when I’m around her. It’s like she lights a path when she walks.”

  Taren understood perfectly. And now, he also knew how to set his plan in motion. Looking around, he found a large enough rock—not too much damage, and he would still have mobility. Plus, a little blood on his face would emphasize his plight.

  Taking in a deep breath, Taren smacked his cheek with the jagged-edged rock.

  A sharp sting accompanied the fresh blood, swelling, warmth. Taren shook his head, trying to collect his thoughts, as he used his sleeves to smear the blood for more of a dramatic effect. He groaned at the pain.

  The cave fell silent.

  “Someone’s out there,” Landon whispered.

  Taren just lay there, waiting for them to discover him. It didn’t take long.

  “Why, you swine,” Landon muttered, short sword aimed at Taren’s chest. Taren only heaved against the rock. “Did you follow us?”

  “Yes,” the word escaped Taren’s bloody lip.

  Landon replaced his sword, grabbing Taren’s shoulders and dragging him up. “Where’s Naomi?”

  “She’s not with you? She has to be.”

  “You took her,” Katia accused.

  “No.” Taren shook his head, sending a streak of blood down his cheek. “Trust me. I watched some people take her. I didn’t know who they were, so I followed them.”

  Landon glared. “Liar. I always knew you would turn on us.”

  “Two girls. They can change their shapes—I saw them do it.”

  “Where was this?” Katia demanded.

  “Back across the river.” Taren resisted the urge to fight Landon’s grip. “I tried to stop them, but I couldn’t see in the rain.”

  Landon eyed him skeptically. “Why didn’t you use your fire magic?”

  “It doesn’t work in the rain.” He almost had Landon convinced. “I watched them take Micah, too.

  “I knew it.” Katia shoved at Landon’s arms. “Let him go. He’s telling the truth.”

  “Where did you see them take him?” Landon demanded.

  “The slope on the western face, not far from the river. I think he tried to climb there.”

  Landon loosened his grip. “I’ll give you a chance. But that’s all you get.”

  Taren couldn’t help his smug expression but nodded his head. “Do you have a plan?”

  Inside the cave burned a small fire built with sunsparks. Landon scooped up a few embers, then led them deeper into the mountain. Carved into the stone of the cave wall was a star shape with six points, each weaving in a different representation of
elemental magic.

  “I’ve seen this before,” Katia whispered. “This is the mark on Naomi’s neck—the one she hides behind the scarf.”

  Taren remained silent, thinking.

  “I thought I’d seen it before!” Landon raised his fists in the air in triumph. “Her magic—it’s in her magic!”

  “But that doesn’t explain why it’s on this wall.”

  “Does it matter?” Taren interrupted. “This is an entrance to something. I think we need to follow the tunnel.”

  Landon looked between Taren and Katia. “What do you think, Kat?”

  “I hate caves,” she shivered. “But I think Taren is right.”

  “All right, then. Taren, you go first—I like to keep an eye on my enemies.”

  Taren didn’t care. He preferred to be first. With a snap of his fingers, a flame appeared in the palm of his hand. Down they traveled the long tunnel into darkness—deep into the realm of the underworld.

  ~*~

  The winding passageways of caves confused the mind, and the stifling air smothered the group as they descended further into the earth. Taren felt the pressure surround him, like a tomb sealing their fate.

  Uneasiness crept through him. The tightness of the tunnels constricted his air, the flame losing the oxygen it needed to breathe.

  “This is maddening.” Katia huffed at the slow pace. “We have been at this for hours.”

  “If you would like to lead . . .” Taren suggested.

  “He’s fine, Kat,” Landon stated. “Leave him alone.”

  “I don’t think he knows where he’s going.” Katia’s voice became shrill. “Some rescuers we are. First Naomi, now Micah. After everything, we’re going to be the ones who need rescue.”

  Landon shushed her. “These walls carry our voices, you know.”

  Seeming to realize her mistake, Katia swallowed back a retort.

  “I’d appreciate it if you had a little more faith,” Landon commented. “I don’t usually mind your sarcasm. In fact, sometimes it’s cute, but right now I’m sorely tempted to leave you here.”

  Katia gritted her teeth. “Sorry.”