The Omen of Stones (When Wishes Bleed Book 2)

by Casey L. Bond

  “Omen is a witch,” Edward offered conversationally, gesturing to me with his dinner roll as if I were an animal specimen.

  “Yes, sir. She told me,” River replied.

  Edward swilled his water, making me wonder if that was really what he was drinking, or if he’d opted for something stronger. “Omen is rare among her kind.”

  “How so?” River asked, putting his utensils down and giving the Founder his full attention.

  “Most witches conjure dark magic and are tricky and devious, but Omen has a pure heart. She always has,” he explained, raising his glass to me.

  “Thank you,” I managed to say.

  “You must know a lot of witches to make such an observation about their nature, sir,” River quipped.

  He nodded sagely. “Indeed, I do. They used to travel out of their sector and infect the others.”

  River tensed beside me, but thankfully he took a drink and settled himself. I did the same.

  Lindey took hold of the conversation. “I went to the Equinox festival they put on in Thirteen once, when I was just a girl.”

  River smiled. “That’s why I left my sector; I was at the Solstice celebration. My friends suggested I go, but I didn’t tell my dad I was going. He’s probably livid that I’m not home yet.”

  “Why did you leave the Thirteenth Sector?” Edward asked shrewdly, leaning forward and weaving his fingers together. His oily hair glistened in the candlelight now that the dusk hour was upon us.

  River looked chagrined. “A little boy was lost. Everyone was looking for him, but he was nowhere to be found. I thought he might have crossed the border, so I went to check. I can climb trees faster than a black bear, so I thought I’d climb one of the pines and get a better view of the forest. I came upon two men who robbed me of my coat and hit me on the back of the head. I lost consciousness, but they woke me by plunging my head into the river. Repeatedly. They thought I was a witch. One of them said that a witch would never die by drowning, so they kept trying.”

  A speculative gleam flickered in Edward’s eye. “And yet you’re alive. Are you certain you have no witch blood?”

  Sebastian stared at me without blinking, as if he were searching for magic. Did he think he could simply intuit it?

  River smiled. “Not that I know of, sir. Fortunately, they didn’t get to prove I wasn’t, because Omen saved my life.”

  “By killing the men who tortured you,” Edward added. “How very fortunate that you were near the river, Omen. And so late at night. You say you found him after the dance?”

  I nodded. “Yes, that’s right.”

  “What drew you to the banks so late?” he asked solicitously. Edward’s eyes glinted, sharp as a shard of dark glass.

  “She had a headache,” Lindey cut in easily. “Poor thing. Sometimes fresh air and the river stones help, so I sent her on a walk after we arrived home.”

  “The meal is wonderful, Judith,” I complimented, trying to guide the conversation in a new direction.

  She gave a wan smile and refocused on her dinner plate, where most of the food she’d taken had been moved around, but little had been eaten.

  Sebastian smiled. “I enjoyed dancing with you, Omen.”

  “Thank you. It was so nice of you to hold the dance.” I wasn’t about to say I enjoyed dancing with him, too. Not only did I not enjoy a second of it, I refused to encourage whatever infatuation he had with me. That needed to be squashed like a June bug who flew too close to Lindey for her comfort.

  Judith quietly excused herself and glided from the room.

  “What news can you give me of the royal family?” Edward asked suddenly, staring at River.

  Does he know the Prince is missing? If he does, how?

  “Where to start…” River drawled.

  “King Lucius is well?” The look Edward gave him was one I imagined a wolf might wear while watching its prey squirm. River’s father’s name was Tauren. He’d told me and Lindey that and he wasn’t lying when he said it. I wasn’t sure who Lucius was, but Edward was testing River to see if he’d told the truth about his heritage. I just hoped River passed.

  River froze when the question was posed. Now he began to chew, slowly unthawing and dabbing his napkin at his lips before answering. “He died, sir. Before I was born, I’m pretty sure. Though I don’t know exactly when.”

  Edward took a bite of meat, chewing it as he asked, “Is Annalina acting as Queen?”

  Edward was quizzing River. I saw the fiery challenge in his beady eyes.

  “No, their son Tauren is King, and he has hand-fasted to a witch named Sable. They have rarely appeared on broadcast since their child was born.”

  “How old is the child? Did they have a girl or boy?”

  Edward was fishing, and I didn’t like it. I wrapped my fingers around the stone in my dress pocket.

  “A boy, but I don’t pay attention to gossip and we don’t have a broadcaster in our home.”

  Seeming satisfied, Edward sat back in his chair and steepled his fingers across his paunch. Judith re-entered the room quietly, removed our dinner plates, and returned with slices of freshly made vanilla cake. I could see specks of brown vanilla bean in the white icing.

  “This smells amazing,” I praised.

  Still, Judith barely acknowledged it. She reclaimed her seat and pushed bits of cake around her plate.

  Even River noticed her strange behavior. Not that it was entirely strange. Judith had always been quiet and odd. Still, tonight it just didn’t sit right with me. The past few days she’d withdrawn further into herself; the decline was steep.

  If Edward was being abusive to her, would anyone stand up for Judith? Would anyone be brave enough to oppose the Founder?

  I looked to Sebastian, who glanced between me and River as though we were a riddle he couldn’t figure out. I doubted he would help Judith if it meant going against his father.

  Edward questioned River about everything from transportation to what the Kingdom’s factories produced. River deftly evaded each query, telling him he stuck to his sector and minded his own business. It was flawless. Lindey seemed pleased, interjecting occasionally about how things used to be. Edward wasn’t interested in hearing about how things used to be, he wanted to know how they were. When he finally realized he would gain no worthwhile information from River, he gave up.

  Thankfully, Lindey complained of throbbing knees and insisted she needed to go home, asking if I would mix up a tincture to ease the pain. It was late when Edward and Sebastian begrudgingly saw us out, the cake crumbs long since dried in the time Edward had interrogated River.

  “Would it be okay if I go check the water level?” River asked once we were out of earshot of the Smiths’ house.

  “Sure. I’ll go with him, Lindey,” I volunteered.

  She gave a small smile and placed her hand on my cheek. “Just be careful, love. Don’t wade in if it’s still up.”

  I nodded and kissed her cheek. We saw her home and then I led River to the path that meandered to the rushing water.

  Since he arrived, I saw the village in a different light. Whose feet first trampled these paths, for instance? Did the baker come to the village already knowing his trade, or did he learn it out of necessity? Who had been born in The Wilds and who had been banished from Nautilus, and for what? Did Edward meet Judith before or after settling this place? Had their marriage always been so cold?

  River and I walked along. He adjusted his gait to match mine, despite the difference in our height. I looked up at him, unable to contain the small smile tugging at my lips. River was so thoughtful. So kind.

  Sebastian never adjusted, simply expecting anyone walking with him to adjust to his wide-legged stride, which was impossible for those with short legs. I’d walked with him to the woodworkers once and had to almost jog to keep up.

 
Walking with River wasn’t work at all. It was nice.

  The water was more swollen this evening than it had been earlier in the day, due to the storm and the resulting runoff from the mountains upstream. “We can come back again in the morning,” I offered, but River stared unblinking at the racing water. I looked around. His eyes were unfocused, so I didn’t think the spirit was near, but wasn’t sure. “Do you see her?”

  He snapped out of the daze he was in and gave a wan smile. “No. I just…my parents must be worried.”

  Of course they would be. Their son was missing from the kingdom. And he wasn’t someone vagabonds would ignore. He was the Prince.

  There must have been a chill in the air, because I shivered for a moment.

  “So…” he started, a teasing smile splitting his handsome face. “Sebastian enjoyed dancing with you. How do you feel about that?” He wiggled his brows suggestively.

  I groaned. “He dances the same way I imagine he kisses.”

  River’s brows rose and he gave me an ornery grin. “Exactly how do you imagine he kisses, Omen?”

  “Sloppily,” I laughed. “Not that I’ve actually considered kissing him. Or anyone, for that matter.”

  Until River, the thought of it with anyone seemed gross. But he was different. Charming. Intelligent. There was something enigmatic about him under the surface. Something I wanted to uncover.

  “Have you ever been kissed?” he asked, his smile drifting away. I wanted to look anyplace else but his honey-colored eyes, but couldn’t make myself do it.

  “No. There are only a few boys here, and none I’d consider kissing.”

  River’s molten eyes slid to my lips reflexively. “You should wait until someone comes along who deserves it. Someone who reveres you above all others, even himself.”

  I slowly inhaled, thankful my rib was a strong cage. No one had ever said anything so perfect and beautiful.

  “Thank you. I will,” I answered softly, finally tearing my eyes from his.

  From the tree line came a rustle of leaves, then hurried footsteps. Sebastian’s silhouette shone in the moonlight. He stormed away, not bothering to conceal the fact that he’d followed us and had been eavesdropping. He probably heard everything we said, and now would run and tell his father about my tender moment with River and the slight I dealt his son.

  I blew out a breath.

  From his noisy departure, it was obvious he wanted us to know he’d seen us.

  “I’m sorry. The longer I stay here, the more trouble I cause for you,” River offered apologetically.

  “The trouble with the Smiths would exist even if you’d never stepped foot in East Village,” I fumed. “Most people are so grateful to Edward for letting them settle within the boundary, they never question if what he does is right. They’re afraid he’ll kick them out.”

  “He’s not their king.”

  “He acts like he is,” I volleyed.

  “Has he ever thrown someone out before?”

  “Not that I can remember,” I answered.

  “He can’t ask you to leave, Omen. You protect this place. He needs you.”

  “I know,” I said. “And if he forced Lindey out, I’d leave with her and take my magic away. Then the stones in the trees would be just that.”

  16

  River

  Stars twinkled overhead as we retraced our steps back to Omen and Lindey’s house. She motioned for me to follow her to the back yard, where she pushed open the waist-high fence and called out to Lindey, letting her know we were back. Lindey poked her head outside.

  “Is it still flooded?”

  Omen answered her with a nod.

  Lindey gave me a concerned look. “It’ll recede soon.”

  I smiled at her and offered my thanks. I knew it would, but not fast enough to quench the fire of my parents’ worry. Not that Lindey wasn’t also worried. She now knew she was harboring the Prince of Nautilus, a kingdom she believed had turned its back on her and her husband when they’d done nothing wrong. She was probably terrified of any ramifications that might result from being kind to me – not that there would be any if I had anything to say about it.

  She retrieved a candle from inside, lighting it and handing it to Omen. It was surprising how much darkness a single, simple flame could chase away.

  I walked along the pathways of swirled stone crafted by Omen and enjoyed the dizzying, beautiful patterns while she stepped inside. She was likely telling Lindey about Sebastian.

  How could things be so drastically different here than they were in Nautilus, and yet the same struggle for power persisted in both places?

  Omen stepped outside. Her eyes found my feet.

  “How did you do this?” I asked. “By hand?”

  She gave an innocent half-smile and shook her head. “Would you like to see?”

  “I would.”

  She handed the candle to me and I threaded my finger through the holder’s handle. Omen promised to return and came back outside with a cloth bag so full of stones, its seams were pulling and threatening to break. She sat the bag on the ground between us and closed her eyes.

  The air crackled and seemed to spark, then one by one, stones lifted from the bag and floated in an orderly line. Omen opened her eyes and crouched down, touching the soil. The stones laid themselves in rows, forming swirls where she asked them to, until the bag was empty and lay as deflated as a balloon.

  I smiled at her, marveling at her wondrous magic. I’d seen her call on the stones to save me, but hadn’t seen how they were part of her, even the gentlest part.

  A burst of cool air fell over the yard, quickly turning the air frigid. Omen’s breaths became visible puffs of steam. The candle’s flame flickered and then went out. “What’s happening?” she asked, slowly standing and hugging herself tightly to keep warm.

  The spirit had returned. The woman shouted, pointing up to the mountain peaks I could barely see in the distance. I couldn’t hear her words, but her message was clear. She looked at Omen, then back to the mountain and pointed again.

  “She’s back, isn’t she?” Omen asked. Her eyes carefully slid over her surroundings, unable to see the spirit’s agitation. “What does she want? Does she know the river is still flooded?”

  “She’s pointing to the mountain now.”

  “North Village is there,” she offered, “and little else but glacier and snow.”

  I stared at the spirit’s silvery figure. “Do you want me to go to North Village?”

  The apparition gave a succinct nod.

  She wanted me to dig by the flooded river, and then travel north into the mountains. What other demands would she make before she was satisfied, and why was she asking these things?

  The spirit slowly faded. Once she left, the temperature rose and the sight of our breaths disappeared.

  “Have you ever been there?” I asked.

  “I’ve never left our borders, but Lindey said all three villages are similar. Edward founded them all.”

  Why would he found a village on the mountaintop?

  Even though she didn’t say it, I knew there was no way the Smiths would allow her to leave this place. But who said they had to know?

  Omen stared at the mountain tops, their glaciers still solidly frozen. The mountains were jagged shards with ice-filled fissures, both cold and foreboding. I wondered if the people of North Village were the same. Did they become like the mountains in which they were nestled?

  I moved to stand beside her. “Do you want to go with me?” I asked before I lost the nerve.

  She looked at me from the corner of her eye. “Yes.” Omen was quiet for a few moments before tentatively asking, “Outside the wards, do you think you could spirit us there?”

  “I’m completely healed, so I should be able to.” I hoped I was right. Omen was s
trong, her magic even stronger, although she didn’t seem to know it.

  But Edward Smith did.

  And he’d done nothing but exploit it and Omen’s kindness to benefit himself and this village.

  “After Lindey’s asleep,” she whispered, grasping my hand for a brief moment.

  She turned and walked toward her worn bag and picked it up before going inside. I flexed my hand to ease the ache she’d left behind. I wasn’t sure why, but I longed to feel the soft skin of her hand on mine again.

  Part Two

  The Stirring of the Fate-Kissed

  17

  Sable

  The moon was high and nearly full, providing plenty of light for our search.

  Arron stood as close as he could to the rushing, muddy waters of a swollen river with Tauren at his side. “What’s the matter?” I asked as I approached.

  “Do you feel it?” Arron asked.

  Tauren’s golden eyes found mine and the worry lines around his eyes tightened.

  There was something off. Something across the river that felt strange.

  Arron nodded to the trees. “It’s warded.”

  “A witch lives within the wood,” I spoke aloud.

  Arron nodded. “A powerful Earth witch, judging by the use of stones.”

  “We have to check there,” I told him.

  Arron gave a grin and winked a silvery, slitted eye at me. “Try it.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He nodded to the land across the water. “Try to cross the wards,” he dared.

  I spirited myself across the river, but couldn’t bring myself to take a single step further. I wanted to, yet I didn’t want to. The persuasive magic was so strong, it made me want to leap into the river to get away.

  Growling, I waved my hand and spirited Tauren over the water to me. “If we can’t enter here, we just need to find another way. The witch couldn’t have warded everything.”

  Arron nodded and began walking downstream. As Tauren and I followed, our boots sank into mud and tall grass of what was a field instead of a river just a few days ago. Before the trio of violent storms. Before River went missing.