Tempest (The Chronicles of Winterset Book 2) Page 7

  “I’d like to try that soup,” I offered helpfully. “It smells wonderful.”

  “It is,” Rowan added knowledgeably. “Mabel makes the best Stormburg Soup in the entire kingdom.”

  Mabel blushed down to her dusty blonde roots, her round cheeks looking like apples on her face.

  “Oh, Rowan,” she scoffed at him, and Rowan grinned widely at her. She quickly grabbed two bowls and ladled the delicious smelling soup into them. She added a thick chunk of soft bread and sat them down at the small table in the corner by a window which looked out on a vegetable garden.

  “Aren’t you going to join us?” I asked, sitting down at the table. Rowan looked interestedly to Mabel who seemed shocked at my question.

  “I-I can take my dinner later, milady,” she said, curtsying awkwardly again.

  “No way.” I waved my hand, thoroughly sick of the properness of everyone around me. “Eat with us. I want to dine with the woman who makes such an incredible soup.”

  “Of course, milady.” Her lips turned up into a shaky smile, and Rowan nodded encouragingly to her.

  “Honestly, Mabel. She won’t bite.” He chuckled, pulling a chair out for her. Mabel shot him a dirty look as she carefully sat down beside me.

  “This soup is wonderful,” I said, breathing out a contented sigh. The soup was thick and creamy with a sweet aftertaste, the plump, colorful vegetables only adding to its flavor.

  “I’m glad you like it, milady.” Mabel nodded her head nervously.

  “Please. Call me Ana,” I said, scooping another large spoonful into my mouth.

  Mabel visibly relaxed, and we ate in silence until Rowan cleared his throat.

  “So, Ana,” he started, swallowing a bit of bread. “There are a ton of rumors flying around about you. I have to ask, and you can kick me if I’m out of line, but is it true you met the Mortae?”

  I set my spoon down on the table, my hands shaking.

  “I met a man named Calix, who I fell in love with,” I whispered, looking him in the eyes. Both he and Mabel shifted uncomfortably. “He wasn’t the monster he’s painted as.” Saying it out loud made me relax since my mind had been inundated with worry over who Calix truly was if not the man I’d known.

  “Ana, forgive me once again, but he killed people here. We’re at a war because of him,” Rowan spoke carefully. “I mean you no disrespect. Perhaps you’ve painted him differently because you loved him.”

  Mabel shifted again at my silence, and even Rowan looked hesitant.

  “Love is blind,” Mabel murmured. “We cannot control our hearts. The character of a man is measured by the love he has for his other half. Sometimes that’s all we need to know.”

  “No, he’s right,” I said softly. “I knew a different man. Maybe I was blinded by my love for him. Maybe I was under some weird spell, some compulsion to feel for him. It doesn’t matter, though. I loved him. My heart tells me I did, even if it may have been a lie, for that lie is the only truth I know. The one I feel. Every crack in my heart has his name on it. The blood that flows through my veins is filled with an empty life I don’t want but am forced to live. I see him when I wake, when I eat, when I breathe. I even see him when I sleep. You’d think sleep would help ease my pain, being unconscious without feeling, but that’s a lie too. It’s in my dreams that he haunts me more, reminds me, makes my heart ache, makes me bleed, even burn. I’d rather die a thousand deaths than to live one life without him.”

  “Wow,” Rowan breathed, glancing from Mabel to me. “I’m sorry, Ana. I-I didn’t realize it was like that for you. I just thought the Mortae found you, and you two fought it out. I had no idea you were in love with him. I feel awful. I’m sorry. Truly, I am.”

  “What are you sorry for?” I scoffed. “You didn’t know, like you said.”

  “No, I’m sorry you’re hurting. I’m sorry he didn’t make it, the man you knew. I’m sorry you’re seemingly stuck in a world and a situation you didn’t ask for. I really think you could’ve changed him. I do. You’re so passionate. That sort of thing is contagious, you know? You’re going to change the world, Ana. Believe that. I do.”

  “Yes, well, for better or for worse, changing a world seems to be my destiny.” I forced a smile out and looked down.

  “It could always be worse,” Mabel sighed. “You could have no destiny. Then what sort of life would you have? To be of no purpose, no value? You have it all, Princ… I mean, Ana. Instead of looking at it like a burden, see it as a gift.”

  I didn’t say anything as I rolled her words around in my mind. They made sense to me, but I was so consumed in my agony for Calix I didn’t want to accept them.

  “What do you say I walk you to your room? You’ve had a tiring day, I’m sure. It doesn’t help that bright and early tomorrow Tarek will be pounding on your door.”

  “Don’t remind me,” I muttered, rising to my feet. “It was nice meeting you, Mabel. Your soup was amazing. I look forward to doing this again sometime. Perhaps I’ll be in a better mood.”

  Mabel smiled kindly at me, and I followed Rowan out of the kitchen and back up three flights of stairs.

  “Why can’t we just travel by light to my room?” I grumbled, my legs aching from all the walking.

  “You can’t travel by light anywhere near the palace.” Rowan chuckled. “Besides, it wouldn’t be fair. There are a lot of us who can’t do it. We’d become bitter at having to climb all the stairs while those who use the light just flittered around.”

  “You can’t?” I asked, surprised. “It’s rare in even in the Seelie courts?”

  “It’s very unusual,” Rowan explained. “It would make wars easier if troops could just use light or shadow to travel. Each kingdom has wards in place to prevent that sort of thing. Well, unless you have express permission to use light or shadow walking in that particular kingdom, anyway. No one here really does it, so it’s not a huge deal. Like I said, it’s not a common gift. Same holds true for portaling since we were talking about it before. You have to be outside the palace walls or a city’s borders, depending on what part of Winterset you’re in, to portal anywhere. Portaling seriously weakens the person who creates it, which is why it’s not done a lot either. I’m not sure any of the Dar’ish royalty here can create portals. If they can, I’m sure they’re granted express permission to use it in the palace.”

  “Good to know,” I murmured, walking beside him. At least no one would be portaling in on me in the middle of the night. That didn’t mean they couldn’t walk through my mirror, though.

  “And the mirrors? Can they travel through mirrors?”

  “Mirrors?” Rowan frowned. “I’ve never heard of it before. However, that doesn’t mean it can’t happen. Why?”

  “It’s just something I experienced in Earth Realm,” I sighed, not wanting to tell him about Kellin watching me through my mirror.

  “Then perhaps it’s just an ability one can have when in Earth Realm. Like I said, I’ve never heard of it here, but there’s probably lots of tricks that happen there which I’m not privy to. I am but a lowly swordsman.” He grinned at me, the smile lighting up his eyes. He was so easy to talk to. Even if I wasn’t a fan of Tarek, at least Rowan wasn’t so bad.

  We finally reached my door, and I turned to him tiredly.

  “Thank you, Rowan,” I said, opening the door. “I hope I get to see you soon.”

  “Oh, you will.” He smiled at me. “I’ll be on the grounds tomorrow too. I’m training some new soldiers in defense.”

  “You train?” I asked, surprised. He mentioned Tarek doing the training, and I knew Soran did a lot of it too. I had no idea Rowan was a part of it.

  “I do,” he answered proudly. “I’m rather good at defense. Maybe I could show you a few moves sometime.”

  “That actually sounds good, especially since I’ll need them against Tarek. I think he fights dirty.”

  “Tarek fights to win. Dirty or clean, a victory is a victory to him. That’s probably why he’s s
o good at what he does,” Rowan mused.

  “And that’s what scares me,” I sighed, stepping into my room, bidding Rowan good night.

  Chapter 13

  “Analia.”

  My name was a whisper on the wind, deep, commanding. A man’s voice. I turned my head, looking for the source, but saw no one. The field of wildflowers surrounded me, the smell so sweet and overwhelming as the gentle breeze blew through my white-blonde hair.

  “Analia.”

  “Who’s there?” I called out, stopping to pluck some of the lush flowers from the field.

  “Analia, come.”

  “Where are you?” I asked, confused. I walked slowly toward the edge of the field to the dark forest beyond, a chill running down my spine.

  “Fire,” the voice breathed as I got closer to the edge of the woods.

  “I don’t understand.” I begged for an explanation to the cryptic words. “Who are you?”

  “Lost,” the voice answered softly.

  “Do you need help?” I stopped on the edge of the dark forest. A coldness seeped into my skin as I tried to gaze through the thick, twisted trees.

  “Yes,” the voice answered, a note of sadness ringing in it. “Help me, Analia.”

  “How do I help you?”

  “The storm! Tempest!” the voice shouted, making me quake in my shoes. “Burn with the fire. Burn, Analia. You must master all the elements. Wind. Fire. Water. Earth. Void.”

  I dropped the bouquet of wildflowers I was holding and stared into the woods as it erupted into flames, my heart thudding unevenly in my chest. The flames rushed toward me, hot and thick. I backed away before turning on my heel and racing as fast as I could away from the heat, but it was no use. The fire was fast, and it ruptured out of the forest and swallowed the wildflowers like the predator it was. I screamed as my white dress caught fire. I tripped, trying to extinguish the flames.

  Falling to my knees, I gazed up wide-eyed at the faceless form of a man, dressed in a suit of shadow, dancing flames crackling along his surface.

  “It comes for you. The storm. The thunder. Embrace it.” His deep voice tickled my skin, even from a distance.

  “Please,” I begged, shaking. “Who are you?”

  “You know me, Analia,” the flames replied, flickering in and out.

  “Who are you?” I whimpered again. “What are you?”

  “Look inside,” the voice murmured. “Let it out.”

  “Let what out?” I asked fearfully, needing the answer.

  “Incaendium. It’s inside. But you must master the four to command the fifth,” His words licked at my mind. “The ash is born beneath the red.”

  “I-Incaendium? Inside what?” my voice cracked, the heat from the flames making me sweat.

  “You,” the voice declared, the blaze rising. The flames plunged like rampant waves at me, consuming me, burning me, changing me.

  I screamed, knowing there was no way to fight it, the all too familiar pain blanketing me.

  Chapter 14

  I awoke to the smell of smoke.

  I leapt from my bed and stared horrified at the charred sheets I’d been lying on. A small flicker of flame still danced lazily along the ruffles. I tried to put it out using my abilities. When I realized I wasn’t succeeding using my Water ability, I grabbed the pitcher on a nearby table and doused the flames with it.

  “What the hell?” I whispered, terrified.

  Not only did I have one of the scariest dreams I’d ever had, but I’d also managed to nearly burn my bedroom down. I tore the sheets off the bed quickly and stuffed them deep into the wardrobe. I snatched a new set and hastily put them on the bed, hoping it didn’t look like the hack job I thought it did.

  Not wanting to go back to sleep, I walked to my balcony and stepped outside, letting the rising sun kiss my cheeks. It was going to be a clear, beautiful day. I breathed in deeply hoping to remove the stench of smoke still clouding my senses.

  I had no idea what the dream meant, and that made my heart race. I tried to analyze it, the words repeating in my head. I needed to master all the elements. It seemed like wind was the next one I had to focus on. Being the Oracle didn’t always leave me with cut and dry answers. Apparently, everything was encrypted. And what the hell was the thunder?

  I let out a disgusted sigh, wishing I could talk to someone, anyone. There was no one there for me now. Soran was gone. Kellin was gone. Calix was gone unless I counted his haunting dreams. I wiped a tear from my eye and took a deep breath. It was just me now.

  Knowing any attempt to figure out the dream was futile, I went into the adjoining bathroom and started a bath, grateful the palace had some semblance of running water. I could live without electricity, but if the palace didn’t have some kind of plumbing I’d be attempting my own portal back home.

  I sank into the warm water, thinking about home and everything I missed. Then it hit me—I was the Oracle. Why couldn’t I just open a portal and go back home? Rowan said it was possible that royalty had express permission to create portals within the palace walls. It was worth a shot. I thought back to the night on the school lawn when Kellin had ripped open a portal. Maybe it was like when I traveled through the light the night Calix died. I had only thought about it, and it happened.

  Eager to test out my idea, I hastily finished my bath and pulled on a robe. I breathed in deeply as I sat on the edge of my bed and thought about how badly I wanted to go home. I thought about it so long and hard my head began to ache. I pried an eye open and looked around to see if maybe I’d made even a small blip in the room. I let out a sigh when I saw nothing had changed.

  Before I could try it again, a loud rapping sounded at my door. Startled, I jumped up and pulled it open.

  “Oh, it’s you,” I said sourly as Tarek stood before me dressed in all black gear, his blue eyes bright. The small scar above his eye drew my attention for reasons I couldn’t understand. Maybe it was because it was the only mark on his otherwise perfect face.

  “Good morning to you too, Princess,” he said. “Are you ready to go to the grounds?”

  “No.” I folded my arms across my chest.

  “That’s a shame.” His eyes raked over me, feigning sadness. “I guess you’ll just have to go in your chamber robes.”

  He grabbed my arm and tugged me out of my room.

  “Get your grubby hands off me,” I snapped at him as I wrenched my arm from his grasp. “I’ll change, OK?”

  “Do as you see fit.” He smirked at me, his eyes shining.

  I slammed the door in his face and snatched the nearest blue and white cotton gown out of the wardrobe and tugged it over my head. Quickly, I pulled my hair up into a high ponytail, put on a delicate pair of gold trimmed slipper shoes, and studied myself in the mirror.

  Today was going to suck.

  “Come on, Princess,” Tarek shouted outside my door, making sure to bang on it loudly.

  “Shut up,” I snapped, yanking the door open and stepping out past him. “I was hurrying. It takes a lot of work putting on these dresses.”

  “No one said you had to wear one,” Tarek said, falling in step beside me, the sword on his hip bumping against me.

  “I distinctly recall you telling me yesterday that females wear dresses here,” I spat at him irritably.

  “I did, and today I didn’t tell you any differently. I only said you didn’t have to wear it. You could’ve very well gone out in your robe or, better yet, nothing.”

  “You’re a pig.” I swatted at him angrily, but he caught my hand before it even got close to him.

  “Ah, ah, ah,” he tsked, tugging me so close to him I could feel his breath on my face. “What did I tell you about hitting? Don’t you remember?”

  “Don’t you remember being set on fire yesterday?” I answered back sweetly, making sure to smile innocently at him.

  He stared down at me, his eyes blazing as he studied my face. I couldn’t be sure, but I thought a smile twitched on his lips for a
moment.

  “Today will be different,” he stated evenly, not letting my hand go. “Much different.”

  “If you say so.” I shrugged at him like I wasn’t worried. That was a lie. Tarek terrified me. He seemed to be filled with aggression and a desire to prove something. A dangerous combination as far as I was concerned.

  He dropped my hand and shook his head at me.

  “Come, Princess. Stop trying to kill time.”

  “Excuse me,” I shouted, catching up to him as he stalked away. “I wasn’t trying to kill time.”

  “Then stop trying to flatter me with those big, green eyes of yours,” he said, descending the stairs.

  “Oh, you have some nerve,” I hissed at him.

  “I do, and you’re getting on it,” he replied easily, still striding quickly through the palace as I tried to keep up.

  “What’s your deal? Seriously?”

  “Seriously?” He stopped abruptly and swiveled to face me. My breath hitched in my chest as he drew nearer to me, his eyes flashing. “Seriously, you already know my problem, and it isn’t really my problem, after all. It’s your problem. Your inability to focus. To succeed. To be humble and learn. Your problem directly affects me and the people of Dar’ish, of Winterset. If you fail us, we die. I don’t like leaving the odds of my survival in the hands of a child.”

  I stepped back like he’d slapped me and wiped at my eyes as they threatened to spill the hot tears that flooded them.

  “Your tears do nothing on the battlefield,” Tarek whispered, his body dangerously close to my own. He leaned down and brushed a tear away from my cheek roughly, his gaze sweeping my face. “Your blood will do more. Blood is for the battlefield. Tears are for after, and you haven’t earned the right to them just yet. Don’t let me see you shed them again. And that includes every time you think of your Mortae. He doesn’t deserve your tears. You both made choices, and now you must accept the consequences. Do you understand?”