The Realm of Dust and Bone (The Curse of Fire and Stone Book 2) Read online

  The Realm of Dust and Bone

  A B Bloom

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Prologue

  The stones stared back at him. Around him everything moved too quick, action and reaction merging together as cloaks spun in the twilight air. He couldn’t move, frozen in time; his heart thudding wildly in his chest like the beat of animal hooves in the chase of a hunt.

  He didn’t even know what a hunt should sound like. He was a twenty-first century boy, used to the best of everything with few cares or worries. So how did he know the sound of a horn blasting into the sky and the cry of hunters as they chased their quarry down deep in his soul? How could he smell the damp earth and hear the snap of the undergrowth?

  How could he know her… like he’d always known her… as though he’d always breathed the scent of her skin; always known the speckled dawn grey of her eyes, the smooth cream of her skin, and the plump purse of her lips.

  He hadn’t. But he also had.

  Now she’d walked through the stones. She’d gone. Swallowed by time and now far out of his reach.

  The blood in his ears rushed and heated. His hands clenched at his sides as he stared at the rock uncaring of the drama unfolding around him.

  All he could see was her, disappearing through the clearing. His heart ached. His soul cracked; a deep and resounding split straight down the middle.

  She’d come back.

  By hell she’d come back, or he would go and find her. One way or another he would get to her, as the gods were his witness.

  Snapping his eyes away from the rock, he launched a passing punch at the Druid priest who had killed them once before.

  This time they would win. He knew it.

  This time he and Mae would survive…

  Chapter One

  “Mae!” I clutched at my ears as the shout lifted through the trees.

  The stones were keeping me safe, hiding my whereabouts within their shadowy depths. My hands splayed against the chiselled now familiar rock. What I found was that the more I touched them, the more they seemed to respond to me, as though they were bending to my will, or to my needs, maybe. Right now, they were warm, and an energy pulsed under my palms, as though they knew me on an intimate level I couldn’t comprehend and were communicating with me through those short but deep blasts of energy against my skin. I leaned closer, what are you telling me? I asked. Now I was talking to stones… Maybe I was losing my mind after all. I guess it’s likely that finding out you can perform magic and do various feats against the laws of nature is likely to muddle one’s mental clarity. My Druid training had muddled me enough, boring and painstaking as it had always been. Now I didn’t need the training because one day I woke up and knew everything. Everything. I could see things before they happened.

  I leant closer to the stone, my warm breath bouncing at me from against the surface. What do you need me to do? What do I need you to do? I didn’t know which of these questions was more relevant.

  I sniggered a moment to myself. Who was I jesting? The only will around here that we were all meant to bend to was that of my father.

  Cringing again, I shrunk against the stone, as his voice calling me rose louder. The stones were father’s. He’d had them carried thousands of miles to be our new shrine, sacrificing our beloved trees at their cost. I stared mournfully at the stumps of the oaks; I wanted to help them, but I didn’t know how. I wanted to help the forest, our people, the future of our Isles—but I didn’t know how.

  I didn’t know how to do anything.

  The future loomed before us, uncertain and dark. My new skill weaved inside me with a glimmer of gold power, but I had no idea how to use it or what it could do. My father was determined to keep it for himself and had instructed that I should tell no one. That was easier said than done when I had this uncontrollable force simmering under the surface of my skin.

  I could save us all. I knew it. But father wouldn’t allow it, he wouldn’t allow me to share my gift with Tristram, our liege and leader, so I kept it wrapped up against my will, hiding it from those it could help. And my old childhood friend knew I kept secrets in my heart. They weighed heavy between us, ruining everything that we once had.

  “Mae!” father called again.

  I didn’t want to see him. I couldn’t explain it, but I clung to the rock, while it rumbled beneath me almost in warning. My skin slicked with sweat, my pulse thudding. What was I forgetting? I stared about me wildly. I was forgetting something.

  Automatically, my hand slipped down into the dirt. Before recent weeks I’d never given much thought to the soil my herbs and plants grew in. It had always been just the medium in which my favourite element of herb lore came to be. The herbs I needed for my role as trainee priestess in the settlement grew in the soil—it was as simple as that. But now I knew so much more. Sensed so much more. The earth, it carried so much energy: from the plants, the trees, the water; it all connected in every single grain of earth.

  I pressed my hands down hard, balls of dirt sliding under my fingernails, and then I waited. A tingle tickled against my skin, then a pulse. Closing my eyes, I focused until I could see what I needed.

  Father. He was searching for me. The image was startlingly bright in my mind, as clear as though I were watching him myself. His face tingled with florid dots of pink. But whether that was his exasperation at me, his errant daughter; or the cold of the winter air, I couldn’t tell. What I could tell was that he was the other side of the settlement near the river. Most people knew to look for me at the river. It was water my soul called for, but as my connection with the stones developed and strengthened, I spent more and more time here.

  Sure that I was safe, I pressed my hand further into the dirt, until my palm stung with the pressure and my elbow ached. Someone else was looking for me. Their unsatisfied search almost reached out to touch me where I was sat. The earth tingled against my hand with an expectancy but there was no warning thrum of energy telling me to run or flee; it wanted me to be found. I reached further with my thoughts, connecting myself deeper to the earth as I sought out the one who was seeking me. I jumped high, the presence of my lord and liege Tristram far closer than I expected. He seemed to be at the stones with me. Through the earth his pulse and life force thudded against my skin. Agitated and alarmed, his distress smacked me with a visible thump in my chest. I wanted to reach for him, to touch him, to soothe him, to tell him all would be okay. That he could trust me.

  Opening my eyes, I expected him to be right there, his face tense with worry just as my vision had showed him to be, his hands tightly balled at his sides. But only the trees waved back at me, swinging their now bare branches.

  My heart fell to my stomach. I wanted to see him. I missed him. He’d always been my future and since a child I’d known him to be my chosen one, the only man I’d settle for, but now he seemed so very far away; those childish dreams seemed very far away.

  I glanced down at the earth where my hand had been. A small green shoot lifted its way out of the soil, and two small leaves reached towards me as though it were coming to me, it’s mot
her. Vibrant and bright it stood in dark contrast to the dark and dismal stretch of winter that surrounded us. “My little friend, what are you doing there? You won’t survive the cold.”

  Without really thinking I lowered my face to the small shoot, placing my hands alongside its delicate stalk. Closing my eyes, I whispered to the shoot. My words didn’t make any sense, but there was no one to listen, no one to hear, no one to tell me what I was doing was wrong or crazy. I just whispered, feeling into the soil as I sent a golden thread inside my veins out towards the small plant. The earth shifted, jolting with energy, but I carried on until another shift beneath my knees threw me back on my rear end. I stared in surprise as a shrub up to my waist waved at me in the slight breeze.

  So I could grow plants now?

  That was… interesting.

  Bit silly though leaving it right next to my father’s stones where I knew he would see it and question why it was there in the middle of winter.

  Without really thinking I used my fingers to dig around the roots. Once they were free, I dug a fresh hole behind the furthest stone where the young sapling would be protected from some of the elements and then I replanted it. The whole time I could feel Tristram. I could sense him as though he were watching me, yet every time I turned around, he wasn’t to be seen.

  Finally, when I was finished and my father’s calls of my name couldn’t be ignored any longer, I stood and brushed at the dirt scattered along my dress. That’s when I noticed the purple flowers embroidered into the hem. That was odd. The thick woven dress had definitely been free of any displays of colour that morning when I’d slipped it on as I shuddered against the cold, dark morning.

  My tongue dried, my pulse speeding slightly against my skin, and despite the heat of my skin, I pulled my woollen shawl around my shoulders and repressed a deep shiver.

  What was happening to me?

  For the briefest moment I wanted to cry. A deep well of irrepressible loss hammered inside my chest. I wanted to run for the river to wash it away. I wanted to connect myself with the water, to allow it to soothe my turmoil.

  Turning, I hesitated. The settlement was to the right, where my father awaited me, ready to learn more of the gift I had been given from the gods. To the left was the solace of free-flowing water and the stark forest that called my name.

  It was the flash of red that snapped my decision. It was him. The one my heart would always yearn for.

  My Liege.

  My Lord.

  My soul.

  I sprinted after his shadow as it moved through the trees, “Tristram,” I called. I shouldn’t have chased him. I’d been warned to stay away, but the wild pounding of my chest wouldn’t listen; it made my feet fly over the cracked and dried earth as I followed his trail.

  “Tristram,” I called again, but he was nowhere to be seen. Instead, I stood in an empty glade, my pulse thudding as I calmed my breath.

  He heard me call, but he left anyway.

  He hates me.

  My heard whirled so fast I crumpled to the ground, my knees no longer wanting to bear my weight. My hands dipped into the earth, sliding into the dirt. My stomach rolled, and I swallowed as my mouth filled with water.

  This power, it was too great in my veins. The gold pulled and ached, but I didn’t understand anything about it. Didn’t know how to use it or control it.

  Overcome with fatigue, I slumped onto the ground. Against my skin the pendant Heather had given me weeks before heated and pulsed as though it were trying to tell me something. Where was Heather? Why had she left us just when I needed her? I was sure she could guide me more than my father did.

  I didn’t trust him.

  He’d hurt me, done something so terrible I couldn’t even think about it, and Tristram had cried with me, our blood meshed and as one, dropping to the earth in minuscule droplets at our feet; tears and blood rushing together. But there had been someone else there… someone important; someone whose blood meant something. It had rushed like a river, uncontrollable and fast. I’d cried as I watched it slither onto the ground, my cry rising into the air like a flock of birds.

  “Mae!” I stirred, lifting my head, my eyes blinking as I stared into the depths of a night sky above my head. “Mae!” How had night fallen? My heard whirled with the hazy memories of my dream. Everything in the dream had hurt so much—tears and blood. My father…

  I breathed in as Tristram fell to my side. “Where have you been? Everyone is looking for you.”

  My head shook slowly as I tried to awaken my thoughts. “I went for a walk. I wanted to go to the river. I… I must have fallen asleep.”

  Why was he here, talking to me? He hated me. His eyes told me as he looked at me from afar. My fingers rose to my lips, brushing the delicate skin. Why could I taste his kiss, when he hadn’t spoken to me in at least one cycle of the moon?

  “Mae, you are alarming me. You shouldn’t be out here. No one should be out of the settlement, not now. You know the rules I have in place.”

  Gods, I hated his formal tone, the way his nose pinched with stress. The way his eyes wouldn’t meet mine, dark and deep. Why couldn’t he be close to me, holding me in his arms, sleeping with his arms around my waist as he just was… my head whirled, the flat of the earth on which I sat tilted at an alarming angle as though it wished to slide me off its surface.

  “Shit, Mae,” Tristram cursed and strong hands clutched my shoulders, holding me upright. “You are as pale as the moon. What is wrong?”

  His hands shifted closer, fitting into the places I wanted them to be, where I had felt them be before. I shook my head, trying to dislodge the ridiculous prospects running through my memories. Tristram had only ever kissed me briefly. His hands had never held me the way I craved. The day he’d kissed me, his father had died and he’d become chief. That was the day our paths which had always been entwined diverged.

  So why did I know it?

  Why did I know him?

  Why in my heart did I have the most awful burning truth?

  “We are going to die,” I whispered the words between us, watching as his eyes flashed, hardening with resolve.

  “You are unwell. Let me get you back to camp.”

  I shook my head, my heart pounding with the certainty of what I said, while at the same time not knowing how I knew.

  We were going to die.

  “My head aches that is all.” I reached for him, my hands skimming across the warmth of his cheek. My palm fitted with perfection as it cupped his cheek. He gasped at my forward touch, his gaze holding my own, but he didn’t move away. “Tristram, you are going to try and save me, but you can’t. When the time comes you must let me go.”

  Silently, he shook his head. “Come, my priestess, let me get you home.” Scooping me up, he pressed me against his chest and my heart whispered like leaves on a tree in spring. “But tomorrow you will talk; you will tell me everything.”

  I closed my eyes, allowing him to hold me close. Tomorrow I wouldn’t be able to tell him anything.

  The scattered images from my dream of bones on stone, blood and tears, and eyes as dark as midnight were already fading. Tomorrow I had a feeling I wouldn’t remember them at all.

  Chapter Two

  I awoke shivering, a wild banging had me imagining rain smattering against a window. Damn room thirteen. I was going to ask to be moved if I stayed here for one single day longer. Windows that opened of their own accord and scattered wild Scottish rain inside a bedroom were not suitable for a school building. There must be laws against it. I’d take it up with Philomena, she’d know.

  I sat up bolt upright and stared wildly at the dim light of the round hut. My hair clung to my damp skin in wild tangles while my pulse raced uncontrollably. My dreams had been dark and twisted: people calling my name, dark eyes and bright smiles, worry and fear mixed with all-encompassing need and desire.

  Hate and desire. I could almost taste them on my tongue.

  There was something I was supposed t
o remember. Something I was forgetting. Breathing deep through my nose, absentmindedly twisting my animal hide bed covering between my fingers, I tried to chase the dream—the sound of rain hitting a hard surface; one I didn’t recognise but knew like I’d never known anything different.

  What was I forgetting? The more I reached inside my thoughts, the further away it seemed to drift. Sighing deep I threw myself back on the rough mattress. Dawn would be breaking soon, the settlement would rise, and daily life would begin, but I still didn’t know how to help them, how to save them.

  My day yesterday had been wasted by my run into the forest chasing Tristram. I hadn’t meant to fall asleep. That aching despair of him ignoring me had pulled me down. But if he’d ignored me as I called and chased, why had he then come to find me and carry me home? The memory of him holding me close made my body warm and ache.

  I lifted my fingers to the purple gem resting against my skin. Slipping my fingers over the cool surface, I tried to peer into the future. The invaders who killed Tristram’s father, they were coming, and if I was right, they were coming for me. Yet my father told me not to trust Tristram… but in my heart I knew it was my father that I did not trust.

  I also knew, although I couldn’t explain it, that I needed to go with the invaders.

  But if I left who would help the people here in the settlement? Who would protect them? Heal them?

  Letting go of the necklace, I studied my hands. They looked as they always had, but I knew they could heal. I could sense it.

  So. Plan. I would heal everyone I could, do everything I could before the enemy came for me.

  I flung back the covers, determined to get ready for the day. Before I left, preparing to brave the chilled air and the frigid water put aside for washing, I glanced back at my bed where Alana, my sister, still softly slept. Her breath whispered shallow and even; her blonde hair fanning across the mattress like the light of the moon.