protect. Even Aran’s marriage was arranged long ago. But Aran and Miranda at least get along. I feel nothing for the heir of Durrivant. An alliance with them will secure our eastern border at least. I am not a fool or a selfish child. I can see the sense of the arrangement.
My bad luck that Jason is such a bastard. He makes my skin crawl.
Taran hates him, and he her. He would send her away if he could. But she is my best friend in the world, and he could no more send her away than he could cut off my arm. She tries to get me to see the good in this, and sometimes, she succeeds. But she is also ruthless and deadly, and I can’t help but notice the way she always finds some excuse to stay near me whenever Jason Anders, Prince of Durrivant, pays a visit.
Enough of my dark musings. It is High Summer, and tonight is the Festival of Lights. Jason Anders will not happen for a while yet.
Taran is here. More later.
-Callista
Chloe tried to piece things together over the increasing volume of Eliot’s music. She thought about throwing the diary across the room and yelling at him to turn it down, but she was afraid she wouldn’t ever pick it up again. There was no way to name the rush of feelings. My parents didn’t choose each other. Maybe they didn’t even love each other. The knowledge that her parents had an arranged marriage rolled over her like a dark but certain tide as her life history rewrote itself in the space of minutes.
Chloe gnawed on her index finger and took deep, ragged breaths, suddenly grateful for his loud music. It was haunting and dark and it wouldn’t go away. Just like him. For now, it was enough. She wrapped her arms around her knees, listening. Perhaps his music would ease her way through the rest of it. She forced herself to keep reading.
Mid Winter, 21st Day, 6018
Fortress Durrivant
A new religion of fire and punishment has taken root as the rest of the world descends into chaos. The fire-priests are horrible; I stay far away, although Jason and his father seem almost bespelled by them.
Something catastrophic is happening to our world. Disasters of every kind are occurring in waves. The islands of the Azure Seas are starving; fish, long their biggest industry and main food source, are washing up dead on the beaches by the thousands. Their scientists say the oceans are acidic to poisonous levels. Tierney’s Well of Sorrow, on our western border, has been sending up columns of smoke, as if it were a volcano rather than the deepest well in the world. The worst are the wild fires. Entire towns are burning, and nothing seems to help. The nations to the east of Durrivant and to Annwyn’s northern borders are in crisis. We send what aid we can, but our first priority is our own land, our own people.
Our Magisters are working hard to give us answers, but so far, they have nothing but dire warnings. As if we did not already know that. Even I, with my fledgling powers, can hear the land crying out. For Father, it is much worse, of course. He is ill and has constant headaches. Even Aran feels it.
Magister Thorne is our most brilliant scientist. He tells us no nation exists in isolation, and that what affects one will eventually affect all. We must strengthen our borders, he tells us, because trouble is coming. We must be prepared, and plan, for the disasters to reach us eventually. What that plan may be, only he and Father know.
-Callista
Chloe swallowed hard against building frustration and sorrow. So far, the diary was raising as many questions as it answered. Fire-priests; that must be how the Abandoned started, in their world. My world, she corrected, but it didn’t feel right. Not yet. Magisters must have been something like scientists, and it sounded as if at least one of them guessed they were fighting a losing battle already. She wondered if his solution involved portals.
She moved her finger back over an especially interesting part, repeating the words out loud:
My bad luck that Jason is such a bastard. He makes my skin crawl.
Taran hates him, and he her. He would send her away if he could. But she is my best friend in the world, and he could no more send her away than he could cut off my arm. She tries to get me to see the good in this, and sometimes, she succeeds. But she is also ruthless and deadly, and I can’t help but notice the way she always finds some excuse to stay near me whenever Jason Anders, Prince of Durrivant, pays a visit.
Enough of my dark musings. It is High Summer, and tonight is the Festival of Lights. Jason Anders will not happen for a while yet.
Taran is here. More later.
-Callista
Chloe tried to piece things together over the increasing volume of Eliot’s music. She thought about throwing the diary across the room and yelling at him to turn it down, but she was afraid she wouldn’t ever pick it up again. There was no way to name the rush of feelings. My parents didn’t choose each other. Maybe they didn’t even love each other. The knowledge that her parents had an arranged marriage rolled over her like a dark but certain tide as her life history rewrote itself in the space of minutes.
Chloe gnawed on her index finger and took deep, ragged breaths, suddenly grateful for his loud music. It was haunting and dark and it wouldn’t go away. Just like him. For now, it was enough. She wrapped her arms around her knees, listening. Perhaps his music would ease her way through the rest of it. She forced herself to keep reading.
Mid Winter, 21st Day, 6018
Fortress Durrivant
A new religion of fire and punishment has taken root as the rest of the world descends into chaos. The fire-priests are horrible; I stay far away, although Jason and his father seem almost bespelled by them.
Something catastrophic is happening to our world. Disasters of every kind are occurring in waves. The islands of the Azure Seas are starving; fish, long their biggest industry and main food source, are washing up dead on the beaches by the thousands. Their scientists say the oceans are acidic to poisonous levels. Tierney’s Well of Sorrow, on our western border, has been sending up columns of smoke, as if it were a volcano rather than the deepest well in the world. The worst are the wild fires. Entire towns are burning, and nothing seems to help. The nations to the east of Durrivant and to Annwyn’s northern borders are in crisis. We send what aid we can, but our first priority is our own land, our own people.
Our Magisters are working hard to give us answers, but so far, they have nothing but dire warnings. As if we did not already know that. Even I, with my fledgling powers, can hear the land crying out. For Father, it is much worse, of course. He is ill and has constant headaches. Even Aran feels it.
Magister Thorne is our most brilliant scientist. He tells us no nation exists in isolation, and that what affects one will eventually affect all. We must strengthen our borders, he tells us, because trouble is coming. We must be prepared, and plan, for the disasters to reach us eventually. What that plan may be, only he and Father know.
-Callista
Chloe swallowed hard against building frustration and sorrow. So far, the diary was raising as many questions as it answered. Fire-priests; that must be how the Abandoned started, in their world. My world, she corrected, but it didn’t feel right. Not yet. Magisters must have been something like scientists, and it sounded as if at least one of them guessed they were fighting a losing battle already. She wondered if his solution involved portals.
She moved her finger back over an especially interesting part, repeating the words out loud:
Similar Books
The Billionaire's Island Romance (The Romero Brothers, Book 3.5)
Shadonna Richards
What's a Boy to Do
Diane Adams
Fingersmith
Sarah Waters
Tell Me Your Dreams
Sidney Sheldon
Lehrter Station
David Downing
The Twin
Gerbrand Bakker
The Waterman: A Novel of the Chesapeake Bay
Tim Junkin
The Teratologist
Edward Lee
A Latent Dark
Martin Kee
King of the Godfathers
Anthony Destefano