Cherished Read online

  Needless to say, our trip to town wasn’t going well.

  I cracked my neck and sized up my opponent. Wren was barely visible through the throng of angry insects. I could see enough of her to know one fact, however. She was smiling.

  Oh, how I’ll enjoy erasing that grin.

  Closing my eyes, I pulled a fresh wave of power into my arm. So much energy flew through my body, my teeth chattered with the force of it all. I focused the magick into my hand and spoke my next incantation.

  “Battle of hundreds

  Dark and light”

  Blue smoke appeared on my palm. A sense of satisfaction warmed my chest. The spell was almost ready. Once the mists were dark enough, I finished my casting.

  “Bring me warriors

  Teeth that bite”

  The enchanted mists shot up from my palm and quickly crossed over the protective sphere. After that, the haze spread throughout the mass of wasps around us. Blue smoke soon blotted out what was left of the sun.

  My spell was only getting started.

  The haze solidified into hundreds of sets of tiny white teeth. These were all bat’s jaws, which made them the perfect enemy to enchanted wasps. The razor-sharp mouths bit into the insects. Each time, a small poof of red smoke appeared as the bat jaw closed and another wasp was destroyed. By the time the mist cleared, I couldn’t see a single wasp in the sky. I let out a satisfied breath.

  The spell was over, but Wren’s grin was still firmly in place. That was rather disappointing.

  “That settles it,” Wren said. “Casting that counter spell proves you are indeed Elea of Braddock, Grand Mistress Necromancer and Tsarina of all the mages who follow the Sire of Souls. You sent my master, the Tsar Viktor, into exile.”

  I pulled fresh Necromancer power into my body until my bones glowed blue once more. I was ready to cast again. “What do you want?”

  “I’ve come to help you.”

  “Really?” I shook my head. “Is that why you sent the swarm in my direction?”

  “I was told to confirm your identity. I wasn’t told to make it pleasant.”

  I glanced from left to right. Gail and Lizzie still snored quietly beside me. Ah, well. The sooner Wren gave her so-called help, the sooner I could wake them up and get this day over with. “I’m listening.”

  “First things first.” A greedy look lit up her eyes. “Do you have any totems?”

  “Why would you care about that?”

  A totem was an object that a Necromancer pre-loaded with a spell. Our magick was powerful, but it took a long time to cast. Placing a spell on a totem ring was an easy way to get around that. But it was Necromancer-only magick. Wren was a Changed One.

  “I hear you can cast hybrid magick,” said Wren. “Maybe I could use one of your totems. Viktor shared all kinds of totem his with his top advisors. Perhaps we could make a deal today.”

  “Deal for what? I have sworn off magick altogether. Casting against you was the first time I’ve used magick in months.”

  “So?” That greedy look was still firmly in place.

  “I’ve no totem rings.”

  “Wrist cuffs maybe?”

  “I’ve no totems, period. How about telling me why you’re really here?”

  Wren looked deeply disappointed. “That means asking another question.”

  “Ask away.”

  “Are you mated to the Caster King, Genesis Rex? You may have met him as a traveller named Rowan.”

  “What?” On reflex, I set my right palm against my chest. My scarab ring always hung there, hidden on a chain under my clothes. Rowan had a matching one just like it. I suppose you could call it a mating band, but it wasn’t anything real. Right after Rowan helped me escape from the Midnight Cloister, we went through a fake bonding spell complete with mating bands. Our goal was to unite our powers in order to fight Viktor. Sure, we saw each other’s souls, but that didn’t mean it was a real mating—or whatever the Creation Casters called it.

  Not that I knew what they really called it. I’d never learned much about Caster life. My world was Necromancy.

  Suddenly, it seemed rather dangerous that I’d never learned much about the Creation Casters. It was something to work on after this disastrous trip to town.

  A smug look softened Wren’s features. “Well, are you his mate or aren’t you? It’s similar to what a Necromancer might call marriage.”

  “No, he…” What is Rowan to me, anyway? “He used to be a friend. That’s all.”

  I stifled a frown. If all we shared was friendship, then why did I offer him my virginity? Not that he took me up on it anyway.

  “You clearly care for him,” said Wren. “So you’ll be interested in my news.”

  I’d fight her on the “care for him” part, but I was interested in what she had to say. “Go on.”

  “The golden army has arisen.” Wren’s buggy eyes locked on me as if I knew what that meant.

  “And why would that be important?”

  “It means a lot to Genesis Rex.” Wren’s smug grin grew a little larger.

  My blood began boiling with rage. When I spoke again, my voice came out as a low snarl. “Stop speaking in riddles.” I forced my bones to flare sapphire-bright. Wren stopped smiling; I considered that a small victory.

  “It’s an old Caster prophecy from one of our greatest Seers, Wakati Ujao.” She stared at me as if the name should mean something.

  It didn’t.

  Sure, I knew that Necromancers had Seers. That said, I hadn’t thought about the Creation Casters having them as well. Now that Wren mentioned the fact, it made sense that Casters would have their own oracles.

  Wren’s large eyes bulged even farther from her head. “Wakati Ujao was a very powerful Seer.”

  I sniffed. “I’m not impressed. Seeing the future is a dodgy affair at best.” In the past, there had been a number of Necromancer Seers who claimed our people would never be defeated so long as we wore our dark robes. Everyone wore black, yet Viktor still wiped out virtually all the Necromancers. “Let me guess. This Caster Seer of yours had a prophecy of her own.”

  “That’s right.” Wren nodded vigorously. Whoever this Wakati Ujao was, Wren certainly believed her. “She said that there would be a long night of suffering for the Creation Casters. Loved ones would vanish. You wouldn’t know if your family was alive or dead.”

  “Your master Viktor made sure of that.” Viktor had abducted the Senior Casters and transformed them into Changed Ones.

  “Viktor is a hero to my people. He took Senior Casters in order to improve them. Look at me. I was once a Senior Caster with no focus to my work. Now, I have great power over wasps.”

  I pinched the bridge of my nose. “I suppose there’s no use in saying this, but I will anyway. Viktor didn’t help you. He’s only convinced you that he did. There are thousands of spells out there. Being limited to wasps isn’t doing you any favors.”

  Wren lifted her chin. “Viktor warned me that most people wouldn’t understand my new perfection. And of all those small minds, yours is the absolute worst. You sent my master into exile.”

  I grinned. It was a big sign of emotion for a Necromancer, but I was ready to indulge myself. “I most certainly did. Twice. And with the help of your Genesis Rex.”

  “He’s not my King. The prophecy says that there will be a long night of suffering for the Caster people under a false ruler. Then, a golden army will appear and usher in a fresh age of plenty. A new Genesis Rex will rise to lead the army himself, and that false King…” She shrugged. “I’m sure you can guess.”

  I had the distinct sense I was being toyed with, and I didn’t like it one bit. “No, I can’t.”

  “The false King will be slowly drained of his life force until the new King is ready to claim his throne. In case you still can’t guess the obvious, that means a painful death for your Rowan.”

  I was so shocked I dropped my arm. All the glow vanished from my bones. “That’s the silliest thing I’ve
ever heard. Rowan is the strongest man I know.”

  “Maybe one time, he was.”

  A chill crawled up my neck. Was Rowan sick? As soon as the icy sensation moved across me, I used my Necromancer training to beat it down. I shouldn’t care what happened to Rowan. He broke my heart and was engaged to another.

  “Why do you tell me this? If he’s ill, Rowan has other people to care for him.” Like Amelia, the woman who’s his fiancée.

  “But no one as powerful as you.”

  She had a point. I wasn’t going to validate it, however. “So, this prophecy requires another Genesis Rex. Who is this would-be King?”

  “He calls himself Shujaa.” The way she said the name, it was clear she thought the fellow hung the moon and stars. “Viktor chose him to be his successor, you know. He gave Shujaa a great totem to ensure he’d be the most powerful among us.”

  Which explained why she was totem hunting with me.

  “Shujaa is a great leader,” continued Wren. “He had raised the golden army by using his powerful totem. And the false King Rowan is already dying a little more each day, just as the prophecy foretold.”

  I huffed out a tired breath and tried to look unmoved. It wasn’t easy. The idea of Rowan dying was making my pulse race so quickly, my head was getting a little woozy. Still, I somehow kept my features level. “So why are you here?”

  Other than to break my heart with worry over Rowan.

  “Aren’t you going to rush off to Rowan and help him? What kind of mate are you?”

  “I’m not his mate, and I’m no longer a Necromancer. As I told you, I’m a farmer now, and I don’t cast magick. And Rowan?” I swallowed past the lump of sorrow that had lodged in my throat. “He’s out of my life.”

  Wren nodded. “It’s good that you won’t be bothering yourself with Rowan, but there’s still the matter of your title—Tsarina.”

  There were so many things wrong with that statement, I didn’t know where to begin. Yes, I was technically the Tsarina, but only because I’d raised a ton of Necromancers from the dead after I exiled Viktor. All the newly raised mages simply started calling me Tsarina—no one asked if it was what I wanted. All the same, I had returned to my farm while my old Mother Superior, Petra, figured out how to align everyone under a different ruler. Right now, both Petra and the newly raised Necromancers were living at my old Cloister, the Zelle.

  “Have you been listening?” I asked. “I am not even a practicing Necromancer anymore, let alone Tsarina.”

  “The Necromancers seem to think differently.” Wren sighed. “They need better leadership. You are hereby being given fair warning. Shujaa will hunt you down and take your crown.”

  “If your Shujaa really wanted to be Tsar, then all he has to do is be a decent mage and ask nicely. Besides, Necromancers don’t even have a crown.”

  “The point is the same. Your people adore you and you abandon them. Someone must kill you and become the true Tsar.”

  “Fine. Let this Shujaa come after me.” I cracked my neck. “I’m not worried.”

  “You’re not going to visit your Cloister and claim your crown?” Wren’s buggy eyes looked genuinely perplexed.

  “No, no, and no.” I threw up my hands. “Look, I understand that you and Shujaa want to rule everything you see, but some of us just want a nice harvest.” My eyes narrowed. “And why do you care if I claim my role as Tsarina? Doesn’t it make it harder for Shujaa to become Tsar if I’m in the Zelle and surrounded by thousands of my Necromancers?”

  Wren opened her mouth, but I raised my arm palm forward and stopped her before she started up again. “I take it back,” I said. “I don’t want to know. I’m not in the world of magick and power any more. My life is my farm. It’s my only legacy from my parents, and I will continue their work. Consider your message delivered.” I pointed over the barley field. “Now leave.”

  But Wren didn’t go. By the gods. I really needed to work on my terrorizing skills. Between Wren, Lizzy, and Gail, no one was afraid enough of me to do anything.

  Wren lifted her chin. “Take my advice. Go to the Zelle and officially become Tsarina. It’s your only hope to stay alive. You can’t stand up to the hybrid power Shujaa wields from Viktor.”

  My mouth hung open. Actually, the only way for me to fight hybrid power was in working with Rowan, but I wasn’t going to point that out to Wren. Logic didn’t seem to be her strong suit. I glared at her again. “I’ll give you three seconds to transport away before I cast another kill spell. Make no mistake. This one won’t just go after your wasps.”

  Finally, Wren raised her right arm. “Until next time.” The veins of her hand pulsed red with power. Tendrils of red mist wound around her feet. Within a few seconds, the haze surrounded her entire body. The cloud darkened and then vanished entirely.

  Wren was gone as well.

  Right after Wren disappeared, Lizzie and Gail opened their eyes and blinked excessively.

  “What happened?” asked Lizzie.

  “There was a girl,” cried Gail. “And some insects!”

  “What nonsense.” I had already erased the protective bubble, so all I needed to do was click my tongue and send Smokey moving forward once more. “You two fell asleep while we were riding along. That was nothing more than a dream. I hope you find the village more entertaining than my company.”

  “But I’ve a bite mark on my arm,” murmured Gail.

  “And I’ve one on my neck,” added Lizzie.

  “You both had those before you set foot onto the wagon,” I said smoothly. “I just didn’t want to say anything about it before.” I waved my arm about at some imaginary mosquitoes. “So many bugs this time of year.”

  Now, it’s a strange fact of human nature that mortals will do almost anything to avoid the reality of magick in their lives. I swear, if there weren’t mages walking around, humans might not realize magick existed at all.

  The Dunkel sisters paused for a long moment before slowly nodding.

  “I think I did drift off,” said Gail. “And perhaps I had been bitten back at the farm.”

  “Me too,” added Lizzie. “I’m certain of it.”

  After that, the pair launched right back into a discussion of the weekend faire. I didn’t hear a word. All I could think about was Wren’s warning. A mage battle with Shujaa would be a welcome change of pace, but the news that Rowan might be sick? That couldn’t be true, could it?

  Only one way to find out.

  Tonight, I’d break my vow against magick once more. Sure, I’d sworn never to cast spells now that that I was a farmer again, but this was a special circumstance. I’d only speak a single incantation in order to spy on Rowan. Hopefully when I saw him, I could confirm that Wren was lying and Rowan was healthy as ever. It was a good plan, but it was also a worrisome one.

  Because the thought of seeing Rowan in the flesh? It sent excitement and warmth spreading though my torso.

  And that was far more dangerous than Shujaa or Wren.

  Chapter Three

  Lizzy, Gail, and I arrived at the village without any further visits from enemy mages. After that, we spent an eternity at the milliner’s shop. The sisters carefully reviewed every needle, thread, fabric swatch, and skein of ribbon. I waited by the door and silently practiced incantations. Yes, I could have asked them to leave early, but after all, I’d almost gotten the pair of them killed. The least I could do was wait until they finished looking around.

  At last, it was time to take the Dunkel sisters home. All during the ride back, the two chattered happily as they looked over their purchases time and again. It was sweet to see them so excited. And if I were being honest, I felt a little jealous as well. After everything I’d faced, it was hard to imagine achieving that level of joy about anything that didn’t involve vanquishing an evil mage.

  Oh, well. Give it time, Elea.

  My parents died while I was still an infant. I didn’t know what they looked like, but I knew they wanted me to have Braddock Farm.
The place was my birthright, future, and sole connection to the past. I simply had to make it work. A small voice in my head said that after everything I’d faced, farming was an impossibility for me. I ignored that voice. It simply couldn’t be right.

  All in all, night was falling by the time I approached my own front door. These days, it was actually Sam and Mabel’s front door, as they were living in the main house.

  As I walked up the front path, Mabel swung the door open before I got a chance to knock. She was a plump girl with brown hair, round cheeks, and an abundance of beautiful freckles. Positive energy seemed to vibrate out of her in waves. “Elea, you’re home!” She called over her shoulder to her husband. “Sam, did you see that Elea is here?”

  A deep voice reverberated through the small house. “Aye.” Sam was a tall man with a wiry frame. His dark hair was cropped close to his head. While Mabel was all rounded curves, Sam’s body was formed with hollowed-out angles. He rarely said anything beyond “aye” and “nay.”

  Mabel guided me inside the main room. As always, it struck me how much—and how little—the place had changed since I’d left five years ago. In some ways, my old home looked the same: a fire still burned in the stone hearth. A simple wooden table sat in the center of the room, surrounded by spindly chairs. The walls remained lined with shelves that held all sorts of jugs and boxes.

  But after five years with Mabel and Sam living here, things had changed as well. The house all seemed brighter somehow. Long sprigs of dried herbs and flowers dangled from the ceiling. That was Mabel’s doing. Meanwhile, Sam loved to work with wood, and his carvings of animals and castles were everywhere.

  I picked up a jar of purple dust. This was new. “What are you working on?”

  “It’s a powder to control the freeze blight. Sprinkle a little of this on the ground, and the plant is protected. We can’t have that trouble spreading past the Ackers’ orchard.”

  I reset the jar on the shelf. “I could cast a few protection spells, you know.”