MARK OF LOVE (Lovemark #3)

16. Quilla-2

“No,” Melaina answered, but not very assuredly. Her brow furrowed in thought. “At least, I don’t think so. Wow. You know, I never considered that idea before. Huh, I suppose it’s possible, but I don’t believe so. She brought everyone else who died from that tree here as well to live out the rest of their days in the Outer Realms.”

Indigo lifted his eyebrows. “Sure sounds like an afterlife kind of deal to me.”

“Okay, yes,” Melaina snapped. “I agree. But...” She shook her finger menacingly in his direction. “The people here can change and grow and breed children. Fight in wars, travel, and invent. Hurt, heal, destroy, and build. Do you honestly think that could happen in someone’s afterlife?”

“Well, I don’t know.” He shrugged. “I’ve never been anywhere else but here. For all I know, my reality could be someone else’s fabricated make-believe world. Someone’s afterlife.”

“Well, I have been to another realm,” Melaina shot back with an elated smirk. “The old world. Now, how do you suppose I’m able to travel between the two of them if one is an afterlife?”

Indigo pointed at her. “Good question. I concede to your point. Now…” He rolled his bound hands. “Proceed with the rest of your story, please.”

Melaina blinked at him, widening her eyes as if trying to keep herself from strangling him, then she cast me an accusative scowl. “Your mate is annoying as hell.”

No, really? “I’ve noticed,” I said.

Indigo merely smiled at me, as if charmed, probably because I hadn’t outright denied we were mates. But in my eyes, that was a given, so I was conceding nothing, and he was celebrating a false victory.

Rolling my eyes over his lame cheer, I decided to start a stew for supper, because I already knew this discussion would take forever. But as soon as I knelt by the fire pit from the night before to get it going again, Indigo leaped to his feet. “Oh, here. I’ll do that.”

He produced a fire striker and was coaxing a flame from the logs before I could even start. I blinked at him, then turned toward Melaina, sharing an exasperated glance with her.

But seriously, did the bastard have to butt in everywhere he didn’t belong? Now what was I supposed to do with my hands?

She shook her head. “I don’t even remember where the hell I was in this stupid story.”

“Some woman named Corandra Graykey was murdered from a tree that doesn’t exist,” Indigo provided helpfully, adding another log to the fire. “And instead of permanently dying—or possibly she did permanently die, if this is indeed her afterlife—she created the Outer Realms as an ideal refugee location for others who died from the same fake tree she did, which happened to be eighteen others. Right?”

“Right, thank you.” Melaina nodded and set her hands in her lap. “So Corandra shared her powers equally among the others.”

Indigo snorted. “Yeah, this is definitely sounding more and more like a Graykey-orchestrated story. The gracious, benevolent Graykey provided for her flock. I mean, give me a break.”

“Yes, well, it’s the only origin story I’ve ever heard about our happy little land here, so it’s this or nothing so far,” Melaina snapped. “Now, shut up and listen.”

“Fine.” He sighed and waved a hand and slumped back onto his tree stump. “All nineteen suddenly had equally magical powers. Not that this explains why everyone still doesn’t have them today, but whatever. Please continue with your enlightening tale.”

“I’m getting to that part, you impatient asshole. If you’d have just shut up and listened from the beginning, I probably would’ve told you why already, too.”

He cleared his throat, properly chastised. “You’re right. My apologies. Please continue.”

She didn’t seem to know how to respond to his sudden compliance.

“I’ll do nothing but listen from here on out,” he promised. “I love a good story, after all, whether it’s true or not.”

Melaina sniffed. “Fine,” she muttered. “So, anyway, the first nineteen had to complete a ritual in order to gain their powers and stay in the Outer Realms. They were each given an amulet, and after forming a circle around a fire, they chanted a few words together and then went around one by one, casting their stone into the flames, assigning themselves with a new name and identity in order to peel away from their old life and start anew. They could become any color, gender, or size they wanted, but all would have to forget their old lives and turn twenty-five again since I believe all of them were already older than that.”

“And that’s how the Outer Realms was born?” Indigo murmured, frowning thoughtfully.

Melaina nodded too. “And that’s how the Outer Realms was created,” she repeated in affirmation. “Once each person gave themself a new name, all their memories of the old world as well as who they were before faded. They started new here, from scratch. All of them, except Corandra. She gave herself a new identity too, but she didn’t lose her memories, because of course, all this was her doing. Later she learned one other also kept her knowledge of the old world as she didn’t give herself a new name when she cast her amulet into the fire. But she’s another story. After the ritual, Corandra gathered up all the stones—for they could not be destroyed in the flames—and they all became hers once more. It is believed that any of the original nineteen could have gone back to the old world with their amulet and taken the place of a person living there, switching dimensions with them, but all of them decided to try the unknown and start fresh in this new world since the old one had so brutally cast them out.”

“I think I’m beginning to understand,” Indigo broke in. “Only people from the Graykey line or chosen by a blood-born Graykey can use the amulets now because Corandra reclaimed them from the fire after that first ritual, and they became hers again. And since her descendants share her blood, they can use them too.”

“Yes, and since it’s been over three hundred years since then, they could be anywhere now.”

“Have you tried Corandra’s burial location?” Indigo asked. “Many like to be buried with their most treasured possessions. Maybe she has a few there.”

I sighed as I set the stew pot on the fire. “That leads to another family legend.”

He glanced my way, and amusement flickered in his gaze. “Of course, it does,” he murmured. “Which makes me wonder why I’ve never heard any of these stories before.”

“Because they’re Graykey family stories,” Melaina piped up. “And Graykeys tend to kill their friends—accidentally and on purpose—soon after sharing family legends with them.” Tapping her chin thoughtfully, she murmured, “Makes me wonder how long you have left now.”

As he scowled at her, she continued. “Anyway, there’s no record of Corandra dying. She simply disappeared one day, never to be heard from again. The rumor is she never did die. She might even still be wandering around the Outer Realms right now.”

Indigo’s brow furrowed. “Did any of the other original nineteen die?”

“Of course. They all died.” Rolling her eyes, she gave the very logical claim that, “No one lives that long. Hello. Except maybe Margaret Scott. Though I’m sure she died in the regular order as well. In her new form. She was the only one who didn’t give herself a new name at the renaming ritual, you see. When Corandra learned what Margaret did, she turned her into an animal so she could never speak to humans again to give away too much information about the old world. She wanted the new world to grow and change under its own ideas, not from the old world’s customs.” Glancing toward Holly, who appeared next to Indigo’s knee rubbing against him for attention, she smirked. “I’ll give you three guesses which kind of animal she turned Margaret into.”

He looked down at the cat, his mouth falling open. “Wait. Unicorns were originally human?”

“No. Only Margaret the b***h started out human. The rest have been unicorns from birth.”

Holly hissed at her.

Indigo turned to the cat. “Is this true?” he asked. “You’re the heir of Margaret Scott?”

Holly bowed her head in a noble kind of nod.

“Half of Margaret’s descendants are still human,” Melaina went on. “She had a few children before Corandra changed her. Which should tell you what she had to have done to breed unicorn descendants.” Leaning toward Indigo, she widened her eyes scandalously. “She had to have fornicated with horses.”

“Oh!” He pulled back, wincing. “Honestly, you did not have to put that image into my head.”

Holly took particular offense to Melaina’s baiting and growled low in her throat before swiping out her claws. But Melaina only yawned.

“b***h, please.” She snapped her fingers and turned Holly back into a white unicorn.

The equine neighed and stomped her hooves in Melaina’s direction before turning away and prancing off in a tiff.

We all three watched her go before Indigo turned back to us.

“So why are most people in the Outer Realms non-magical now?” he asked. “Did Corandra get upset with others and take their abilities away too?”

“No. That had nothing to do with her. Fights and disagreements were breaking out among the people. They started using their gifts to hurt and destroy each other instead of furthering progress in the land. Many—most of the population actually—agreed to discard their abilities and tossed them in the Back Sea in order to start fresh without them and hopefully create a more peaceful world.”

“Well, that worked out well, I see,” he muttered sarcastically.

“No,” Melaina agreed softly. “It didn’t, did it? As long as time continues and worlds grow, wars will break out and fester, pushing for change and progress. Peace never lasts. But alas, back to the Graykey family story. It says that Corandra drank from the sea after that to consume all the discarded magic back into herself, and she became more powerful again.”

“Well, that’s scary,” Indigo muttered, shuddering.

I simply shrugged. “I don’t see why. She’s never done anything violent. Never killed anyone, never interfered too drastically in the lives of others. I think she prefers it when people are free to live their own way and make their own decisions.”

He glanced at me. “Do you think she’s still around?”

I thought about it a moment, then nodded. “Yeah, I guess I do.”

“That would be nice,” he answered. “Then we could track her down and ask her why she started this stupid curse in the first place. Or how to break it.”

I tipped my head to the side. “What makes you think she started the curse?”

The question surprised him. He blinked before shrugging and admitting, “I don’t know. I guess I just assumed since the curse has been going on since the beginning of time that it must’ve had something to do with her.”

I lifted an eyebrow. “You think she cursed her own house?”

My question seemed to boggle him. “Huh, yeah,” he finally admitted. “That wouldn’t make much sense, would it? Are there any family stories about how the curse began, then?”

“Yes.” Shame and revulsion surged through me. Every time I thought about the disgusting origins revolving around my family curse, I felt sick to my stomach. It was hard to digest that this was my family heritage. Needing to get some water from the spring to make this damn stew, I pushed to my feet and glanced toward Indigo. “But I won’t be sharing it with you.”

And I hurried off to avoid the story.