Broken Stone (32 page)
“We can, Reeve.” Emariya’s lip trembled. “It doesn’t have to be one or the other. Our love for The Three Corners can reunite it. Better. Stronger.” She swallowed, and lied. “Together.” And then the arrow hit. As if she were watching someone else, she glanced down and saw the shaft lodged above her breast. Alrec’s triumphant grin as he started toward her was the last thing she saw before her eyes closed and the world went dark.
Reeve Warren watched his sister fall.
Alrec’s fingers still twitched against his bow, but he’d not yet notched another arrow. The raging tempest inside Reeve burst as rage, grief, and loneliness combined into one brutal storm of all storms.
“She wasn’t yours to take!” he screamed. Without a moment of hesitation, he launched the swords lying scattered around like fallen tree limbs soaring into the air. Flinging his arm to the side, the swords swooped into a deadly dive. As each one pieced Alrec’s flesh, Reeve felt nothing.
His throat grew thick as he looked at his Emariya, so small and frail, twisted like a broken flower on the ground. Her hair bloomed like Queen Anne’s Lace around her, but her stem was so twisted, it was only a matter of time before her vibrant beauty would wither and fade from this world.
He crouched at her side, taking her hand. “I’m so sorry, Em. I’m so sorry.” Tears burned down his cheeks.
Her eyelids fluttered. “I forgive you,” she whispered. “With Torian and I gone, I am counting on you to do better. Be better. If not for me, for Mother. We owe her that.”
Long forgotten words wound their way forward.
“I need you to go with Mairi. Be very, very quiet. I am counting on you to protect your sister; do
you understand?”
Reeve nodded, understanding at last.
I understand, Mama.
He could feel her smiling at him in his mind, accompanied by his father, and his two grandmothers. Warmth seeped over him as he took Emariya’s hands in his own. Letting go of his anger and his hurt, he allowed Emariya’s love to seep through him. He blew all of his wind into her, giving her his breath. Frost froze his hatred, slowly creeping toward Emariya’s heart where it solidified, destroying her wound.
She fluttered her eyes again and smiled. “Are you sure?”
Leaning down, he kissed her knuckles and squeezed her hand. He could feel her own fire and earth burning away her injuries, and renewing her life.
Together, they’d created the perfect balance the world had craved for so long, and in return it had given her back the gift of life. Their goals had always been the same. And from now on, they would work toward them together, for a new tomorrow.
Or they would have, if he’d had a tomorrow.
As Torian’s sword plunged toward its mark, Reeve dropped his sister’s hand and closed his eyes, sinking into dark oblivion.
Epilogue
“The boat is ready when you are, Your Majesty,” Rink said. By proper custom, he should have bowed, but instead he offered her a warm smile. “You don’t visit us near enough. When will you be this way again?
Emariya looked at him, seeing not the tall, capable commander of the trading post he had become, but instead the awkward thirteen-year-old he’d been when she first saw him. It was hard to believe it had been fifteen years. “Soon, I hope.”
“Thank you, Rink. We’ll board at once,” Torian said, taking his wife’s hand. Emariya smiled and let her prince—now her king, since his father had died a few years past—pull her along.
“If the weather holds, you should arrive at the capitol in two days time. The missus and I were wondering if you might take the girl with you. She’s been worrying her mother over it something fierce. It’s been a few years since we’ve been able to take her for the festivities.”
Emariya smiled. “Of course, Thalia is most welcome to accompany us. Have her board.”
“My thanks, Your Majesty.” Rink hustled off to collect his daughter, and Emariya turned to Torian.
The years had been kind to him. His chiseled chin and silver eyes—they almost never went that deep charcoal anymore—danced now, and often. He leaned down and gave her a tender and all-too-brief kiss. He smiled, knowingly. “No worries, my
Acimastrea
, we’ll be back to Castle Ahlen within a month, and there will be plenty of time for that.”
Her cheeks flushed. Although they only made it to Castle Ahlen a few months out of every year, Emariya considered it home. Unfortunately, the pressures of leading the Coalition of Thaelestrar kept them in the capitol more often than not.
In the wake of the Siege at Damphries, as that day so long ago had come to be called, Emariya had abolished the Great Council of Eltar, citing its deep corruption. Each land pledged fealty to a new, united Coalition, made up of the leaders of each of the three lands. Officially, Emariya was the leader of the coalition, with Torian by her side, but rarely did she feel the need to remind them of that technicality. When she was no longer able to hold the position, the rest of the Coalition would elect a new Chancellor. Chancellor of the Coalition of Thaelestrar wasn’t Queen Emariya Ahlen’s only title, or her only duty, of course.
“Mama! Did you hear me?” Chariste pouted.
“I’m sorry, darling. What?”
Chariste laughed. “Were you dreaming of the spirits again? Oh how your mind wanders! I asked if I could go greet Uncle Garith and Aunt Terin. They’re finally here.” The petite girl tossed her ice-blonde hair back over one shoulder, as if that would somehow tame it. The Three help her, she’d inherited her mother’s hair.
“Go ahead,” Emariya said, smiling. The Three had been correct, and shortly after The Three Corners united under her leadership, their gifts had become dormant. Some days, she would have given anything to have her parents in her ears again, guiding her in raising her willful daughter. Chari had a good heart, but a wild spirit.
“Are you looking forward to seeing Jessa?” Torian asked, slipping his arms around Emariya’s shoulders. She felt a tug on her cloak.
Turning reproachful eyes to him, she pulled away. “I know what you’re doing.”
Torian raised empty palms in mock innocence. “What?”
Emariya just smiled and pulled her cloak around until she found it. There, hidden inside, rested the Separatist’s pin. They’d been passing it back and forth between them since the day Garith gave it to her. If she hadn’t slipped it inside his cloak that day... As far as they could guess, it was the only reason Reeve’s magic hadn’t succeeded in strangling him, and her fire hadn’t burned him. No one, not even Torian himself, knew she’d given him the pin.
Something had told her she might need to use fire too close to him for comfort. She’d wanted him protected, and because of it, they’d all survived. Well, everyone except Reeve.
She’d known going into Damphries that most likely she’d have to kill her brother. She couldn’t fault Torian for doing exactly as they’d planned. But part of her would always wonder if they truly could have made amends, and losing him still hurt. Forcing back old wounds, she started to slip the pin out of her cloak.
“You keep it today,” Torian said. “I always feel better when you have it.”
“Maybe we should leave it with Jessa,” Emariya said. “Makenna will be thirteen now.”
Torian shuddered. “Ugh. Teenagers. Perhaps you’re right.”
“It doesn’t help that my grandfather and grandmother spoil the child so.” Emariya’s words may have been harsh, but her tone was warm. Kahl and Alara had survived the Siege at Damphries, none the worse for wear—Emariya couldn’t say the same of Councilor’s Felton and Ralston. Bosch had passed away sometime during the chaos. Once the dust cleared and the coalition formed, the Roths returned to Sheas Harbor to serve as advisers. They too would be traveling to the capitol for the week long Festival of The Three.
Emariya and Torian both turned to greet Garith and Terin. There were hugs all around. Terin smiled. “Raven and Chari are coming. Sorry we’re so late, Mairi kept adding more and more to our packs for us to bring to Jessa before we could leave the Rest.”
Even though her own daughter now lead Sheas Harbor by her husband’s side, Mairi refused to leave Warren’s Rest. She claimed her old bones couldn’t make the trip, but no one believed her. They even joked that at the rate she was going, Mairi would some day be raising their children’s children.
Emariya smiled, watching Garith’s ebony haired daughter stroll up with Chari. Like their parents, the girls were the best of friends. After everything happened, Garith and Terin had wed almost immediately. Emariya had been thrilled to see them so happy, and glad he’d found love at last. Even if it felt a bit sudden. They’d declined to return to Castle Ahlen. Terin had always wanted to see the spring flowers. And Garith was more than willing to stay and lead Eltar in Emariya’s place. It was sad to see no Warren at the Rest, but he was the next best thing.
“Is Delran not coming?” Torian asked. Two years after having Raven, Terin and Garith were delighted with a little boy, the spitting image of his father.
Emariya’s hand trailed toward her stomach, and her eyes briefly met Torian’s. After many years of hoping, they were expecting to give Chariste a younger sibling.
Garith shook his head. “No, he doesn’t really like the capitol. He’d rather stay home and help my father in the shop.”
Their capitol had been built at the northern cusp of Sheas, just below the Uldrich River. Boats ran from Sheas Harbor to the Thandrel’s Trading Post through the sea. Smaller boats also ran from the trading post upriver until they could go no farther. Another trading post had formed there, commonly called Two Banks, which was where they now waited with its commander, Rink. A final set of boats ran between Two Banks, upriver to the Thalmas guard outpost, and as far downriver as one could go.
With this interconnected web, which Sheas had been instrumental in developing, goods easily traveled throughout all of The Three Corners. The boats that ran upriver also made stops at the capitol, which Emariya had named Valencia’s Hope. It was there that the Ahlens made their home most of the year, allowing for routine visits to Sheas Harbor, Castle Ahlen, and Warren’s Rest.
“Is the Sea Dragon sleeping?” Torian teased.
Emariya startled out of her reflection. “No, just thinking about how far we’ve come.”
Not long after the coalition was formed, Fidwen died peacefully in his sleep. But before he passed, he told her one of her mother’s nicknames was the Sea Dragon. Emariya loved it at once, and when they were creating new emblems to signify the new, united coalition, she thought it would be fitting.
The dragon now graced all her official and formal attire, as well as that of her guards. She was of all three lands, and hadn’t wanted to wear the symbol of one, offending the others. Taking her mother’s icon solved that, and she’d embraced the nickname people began to use for her with pride.
“It’s a lot to be proud of,” Torian smiled, squeezing her hand. “And none of it would have been possible, if it weren’t for you.”
Emariya glanced around, becoming impatient. “Where are those girls? Surely they couldn’t have found trouble just walking from the bank to the pier?”
Terin and Garith laughed as Torian said, “She’s every bit her mother.”
THE END
A Note From The Author
Not ready for it to be over? Neither am I.
Broken Stone completes the main trilogy for Souls of the Stones, but I’m not done writing about The Three Corners.
Severed Stone will be the next title released and it tells Fidwen and Ciorstan’s story, more in depth than when The Three told it to Riya. When I was writing that chapter, I realized there was so much more to tell. Severed Stone is novella length (A little less than half the length of Broken Stone) I am also writing Valencia’s story, tentatively titled Jaded Stone. Riya tells me Chari would like a book too. We’ll see I guess.
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If writing a novel is like remodeling a bedroom, writing a trilogy is like remodeling the entire house. Not only do you have to figure out how everything looks, how all the pieces fit together, and make a focal point, you have to make everything flow together from one room to the next. You will become intimately acquainted with the home improvement store folks, the guy who works at the paint counter may decide it is break time each time he sees you coming, and your husband may take your tools away if he comes home to find one more thing torn apart because you decided to ‘fix one little thing.’
I started writing Cornerstone because Riya wouldn’t leave me alone. I’d begun repairing the caulk in our shower, and somehow by the time my husband got home, half the tiles were missing, and the bathroom lay under a pile of debris. In the weeks that it took me to caulk and grout—and why stop at the shower when the tub is so close—and replace the nearby baseboards because water had seeped up the wall outside the shower, and then paint because I hated the color anyway and I needed to touch up the paint by the baseboard, I had a lot of time to think about Riya.
So when my bathroom project was finished, Cornerstone began. I think I was about halfway through writing Cornerstone, when I realized the story had only just begun and I began to figure out the bigger story, weaving the pieces for what would become a series.
That was a year ago, and I think my husband is happy writing has kept me so busy—I haven’t
‘fixed’ any more rooms. But just as I got intimately familiar with lots of the helpful people at the home improvement store, along this writing journey I have gotten quite close with a lot of book improvement people too.
John, Jason, Jacki, Ardyth, Laurel, Chuck—You guys are amazing.