“Where is Reynolds?”
“In good time, sweet one.”
He sipped his water gingerly, then placed his gentle hand across the table. “May I touch the Ever Star?”
“Ever Star?” Naomi wondered how he’d learned what Malindra called her, a nickname only a few knew. She nodded anyway, and he ran his fingers along the top of her hand.
A look of contentment showed on his face. He breathed in deeply, seeming lost in a pleasant memory. Smiling, he returned his hand. “Thank you, sweet.”
“What do you mean by ‘Ever Star’?”
“The last star, brightest of all, forever. Six in one starlight hold—seven mix young to old. Ever Star.”
“How do you know this?”
“Ah.” He reached in his pocket and pulled out a scarf, the very one Malindra had given her so long ago.
“How did you get that?”
“There are no two patterns alike. This one is from Malindra, sister of Jeanus, Elemental whirler. I never forget.”
“You made this?”
He bowed again. “Shadesilk, with a kiss of Illusion.”
“Thank you, it’s beautiful.” It pleased her to find out a little more about the history of something she treasured. “I’ve always loved it.”
“It is protection. Do not take it off. Reynolds has commissioned a cloak out of it. My worms are working very hard.”
Naomi wrapped the scarf around her neck again and felt at home. She had more questions to ask him, but before she said a word, Spotswood spoke.
“There is no need to worry, princess. All will come out right. Reynolds’ blame is unfounded, only a tool for the prophecy of old.”
“How do you mean?”
Spotswood smiled widely and recited:
“Legends and Secrets in nature’s peace
Six will reign down from the east
Elements gathered in beauty and grace
Sharing the secret boldly embraced
Wind and rain, rock and stone
Rivers flowing, earthen grown
Fires kindled, creatures tall
World protected from goodness fall
But secret from guarded truth
A power untempered in unknown proof
Beauty abounding, wholeness and pure
Brings to the ill and infirm—a cure
Blankets of heaven full in the night
Bring daytime to darkness
. . . and shadow to light.”
Naomi liked the poem very much. “But what does it mean?”
“You are the key to everything. We must keep you safe and sacred.” Smiling faintly, he left the room. All went quiet following the hobbling of canes down the pathways.
Naomi had been so wrapped up in Spotswood’s tale, she hadn’t heard the footsteps approaching. She turned to see Ferra crossing the large room toward her. Naomi jumped up and ran to her.
Ferra had a tremendous smile on her face. The two embraced and laughed and cried.
Naomi finally broke away and looked at who she knew now as her sister. Dirt covered her and there were more twigs than usual in her hair, but she looked well and very happy to be there.
“Where did you go?”
“To retrieve something that might help. Paolo and I traveled up north. I had to find my mother.”
Mother, Naomi repeated the word in her head. She liked the way it sounded. “What did you need to get?”
Ferra pulled an old cloth out from her dirty pocket. She lifted the delicate fabric to reveal a round ball, purple in color, with a gentle glow in the center. Naomi knew this ball. “This is on loan. I promised to return it to Jeanus.”
“What is it?”
“This is the Conjectrix, a dream interpreter. Pretty, isn’t it?” She raised her eyebrows toward Naomi. “We’ll need it with all the plans.”
“Plans?”
“Sorry.” Ferra wrapped the ball back up. “You’ll find out soon enough.”
Naomi felt a stab of pain over her chest that sent her in a spell.
“Whoa,” Ferra steadied her. “Come on, back to bed.”
“I’m sick of bed.”
“I’m sure. But we need you healthy.”
Landon and Katia entered the room. Seeing Naomi buckle over, Landon ran over, taking her other side. “Hey!”
“I need Reynolds,” Naomi strained as she felt another stab.
Landon picked her up in one scoop and carried her back to her room and the safety of her covers.
~*~
A small doorway . . .
Into a room of no comfort.
Little light reflected bouncing around the white sheet.
A girl stood before the room
Hesitation,
Reveal the truth
She did not want to know
A hand in hers,
. . . small and warm.
A boy growing,
but not grown.
Her other hand empty,
But wanted it filled.
. . . By her love.
A gentle woman comes forward.
Small in height, big in heart.
“Come, my sweet.
“It is time to say your goodbyes.”
She froze.
The room sat silent . . .
. . . No thrashing
. . . No screaming
All peace and silence.
She gripped the hand and walked forward.
Tears flow freely down her cheek
The boy’s eyes dry, but swollen.
Porcelain skin.
Silvery strands flow from the bed.
Touch the hand.
Ice cold
Curse.
Blame.
Anger!
The stone around her neck felt strangling.
Whispers . . .
“Sharrod has won . . .
“He severed the bonds.”
Fingers through the strains, still silk and unreal.
“There is no hope, Zander.”
Overwhelming despair . . .
The hand squeezes tighter.
The boy helpless to comfort.
A glance at her,
The mark glistening.
His thoughts on her.
If only Naomi could see?
The woman raised the sheet.
. . . one less star to shine . . .
. . . one less stone to protect . . .
. . . one less sister to save . . .
~*~
The dim light in the room rippled in unusual patterns of the stone. Naomi’s eyes watched the light waves until she saw the silhouette outlined next to her.
His head lay on the bed, hidden in his folded arms, his breathing even.
Naomi hardly moved, but still Reynolds lifted his head to check on her. He met her eyes, his expression grieved and worried. But then he smiled, if only faintly.
Worried about disturbing the peace, Naomi spoke in a small whisper. “I think one of my sisters died.” The dream rested near in her subconscious. “She couldn’t survive without her stone.”
Reynolds looked deeply into her eyes. “I’m so sorry. I’m sorry you didn’t get a chance to meet her.”
In this one moment, Naomi could see the weight he shouldered. One small, almost insignificant decision he had made when he was younger now rippled through time and had set him on a course he did not design.
“Where have you been?”
“Thinking.” Reynolds stared at her with those amazing gray eyes and took a few deep breaths. “I don’t think I have the answers you want.”
“I’m not looking for answers.” Naomi moved a small strand of hair that hung in his eyes. “I want to know why you blame yourself for saving my life.”
Reynolds sat up. “No. I blame myself for putting you in that situation. I should have never left you there with Taren. I knew better.”
Naomi moved to sit up, but the bandages around her dug uncomfortably in her side.
“Don’t move—s
tay still.” He grasped both of her hands in his, sending butterflies through her stomach. “Don’t go anywhere.”
“Okay.” Naomi’s voice cracked with emotion. “Where is the Vivatera?”
“It has returned home.”
He reached to his neck and found the gold chain, pulling it out to show it to her. All that remained was the round, gold casing with the hawk’s wings. The stone had disappeared.
“It saved you. I asked it to. The stab wound was deep and deadly. Taren’s knife had magic in it, and I couldn’t save you.” He stopped. “I’ll leave so you can remove the bandages. You don’t need them anymore, but you will see it there.” He stood up to leave.
“Reynolds,” Naomi called, without knowing what her next words would be.
Reynolds stopped. “We have a funny history, you and I. I swore to keep you safe, and I will fulfill that promise.”
Naomi remained silent, a tear rolling down her cheek.
Reynolds smiled at her tenderly. He placed his hand on her cheek and wiped the tear away.
The gentle action created an unexpected emotion welling up inside her. The overwhelming realization of everything he had done and said found a new home in her heart. She flung herself into his arms and sobbed like a baby, burying her face against his chest as he held her tight and rested his head on hers.
“I won’t let anything happen to you,” Reynolds whispered.
Naomi lifted her head. “I’m counting on it.”
Face to face, eye to eye, there was no one else alive at that moment.
Reynolds leaned in to kiss her, then stopped. He unlocked his gaze and moved his eyes away. “I’m not impervious to your charm.”
“Is crying charming?”
Reynolds laughed. “No, but your intense need to make everything better is charming. Right now, I want to save the world for you.”
“Please do.”
He leaned in and kissed her cheek where her wet tears still lay. “I’ll try.” He stood and left the room.
Naomi no longer had tears to shed. She no longer felt so hopeless. All the questions running through her brain were now answered with a single act of kindness.
She began removing the bandages, layer upon layer. Stains from dried blood appeared down the center as the cloth became thinner and thinner. Without even removing all of the wrappings, she could see the scar already.
She stopped at the sight of it—strange and beautiful. The Vivatera stone had liquefied itself into her.
The pink, pearl-like color looked odd against her pale skin, but the swirling magic left a shimmering, glittering mark right in the center of her chest over her stab wound, above her heart. Over that, the shape of a circling hawk had formed: the ornate family crest Reynolds crafted with his own hands, the Accipitor.
Happiness filled her soul at the sight. It would be with her always. She sank her head into her pillow, wrapped the scarf around her, and for the first time in a very long time, dreamt peacefully about nothing.
End of Part One
Naomi’s adventure continues in
Part Two in the Vivatera Series
Available on Amazon Kindle
here
Acknowledgements
AMAZING THANKS to my original team at Xchyler for introducing me to your world, and my editing team: Elizabeth Gilliland, Heidi Birch, McKenna Gardner, and the wisdom of Penny Freeman.
LOVES to my cheerleaders, especially all my amazing family; Kevin, Mia and Jules, thank you for your patience; Bryon and Susan for letting me live; Becka and Lily—my muses: Beth for inspiration—Anata wa saikoda: Laurieann—my kindred spirit, for your kind instruction; Becky, Wendy, Sarah, and Todd, for waking the writer in me, and Gina for the Count Chocula; the Thursday girls, including Hong Kong Annette; the Blood Bankers, for asking about my book, like you cared; Martin and Benedict, for helping me survive editing; and Mrs. Carol Sawaya, for cultivating the first threads of creativity.
IN THIS EDITION: Oh, how my world has changed since I first released this beautiful book. Thank you to all the crew at Shadesilk Press, the Whiskey Writers, the League of Utah Writers and everyone involved in my authoring process – including the Infinite Monkeys, (the former) SLCC and FanX, LTUE, Fyrecon, and all who have come to my classes, talked with me, believed in me, and made me the writer I am today –
THANK YOU.
About the Author
CANDACE J. THOMAS is author of the VIVATERA SERIES, winner of the Diamond Award for Novel of the Year and Silver Quill. She has also penned VAMPIRE-ISH: A HYPOCHONDRIAC’S TALE, Hawkweed – found in MOMENTS IN MILLENNIA, and WANDERING BEAUTIFUL: Poetry for Dark Days.
Candace is known for her extreme fanatical love for both Count Chocula and smart, witty writing that expands her imagination and makes her wish she had thought of the idea.
Candace lives in Salt Lake City, Utah with her husband, two daughters, and tailless cat.
Follow Candace J. Thomas on:
candacejthomas.com
Facebook.com/candacejthomas.author
Twitter: @cjtwrites
Instagram: @candacejthomas
Vivatera (Vivatera Series Book 1) Page 28