WAIT FOR LOVE (Lovemark #4)

16. Olivander

16

Olivander

Amara and I hurried down the row of shelves to find the earthling standing before the table and backing away from it as she covered her mouth with both hands.

“What’s wrong?” I demanded, not spotting the culprit of her problems.

“Indigo’s journal,” Dori said, pointing, her skin taking on a greenish tinge before she curled her arms in to clutch her stomach.

“I just—I just read what happened in the eighth reaping. These third cousins, Novak and Nona, hooked up together and they took out both his siblings and hers, then killed his dad, Marvello, who was the king of this Lowden place by slitting his throat and letting him hang upside down in a forest for wild animals to finish him off. And then—as if that weren’t already bad enough—they trapped an entire town of people who were trying to rebel against them in the castle stables, where they set it on fire and burned everyone inside alive. The horses, too.”

I strode over and shut the book forcefully. “You need to stop reading this. I told you to skip over the genealogy section.”

“But…” Dori shook her head and pointed at the book. “Is that—I mean, did they do those things because they were awful, terrible people? Or... Or... It wasn’t because of the bloodlust, was it? The curse didn’t make them do all that against their will.” Her eyes lifted to mine, showing me all the terror that was gripping her. “Right?”

I didn’t have an answer she would like, but my pause told her everything she needed to know.

“Holy s**t,” she breathed, shaking her head in denial. “No. No way in f*****g hell is that going to happen to me.” Turning to Amara, she began to breathe erratically. “We can’t let that happen to me. I don’t want that to happen to me. We gotta get me off this f*****g planet.”

“Hey, shh,” Amara murmured in a soothing tone as she hurried over and clutched Dori’s shoulders between her hands. “Don’t fret. We’ll help you. Indigo’s written about a few ways for a Graykey to avoid the bloodlust.”

“Oh, thank God.” Dori blew out a relieved breath. “What are they? I’ll do anything.”

“Well... The way his mate, Quilla, shed her possibility of getting the bloodlust was by transferring all her powers to someone else.”

Doria blinked. “That’s all? I just have to give up my ability to communicate with birds? Fine. Done!”

Amara cringed and gave an uneasy jostle of her shoulders. “Well, both she and the recipient had to be completely willing, then I’m sure there was some transference ceremony that I have no idea how to duplicate, and finally, uh…”

“Finally what?” Dori urged, leaning toward Amara anxiously.

With a heavy sigh, the other woman glanced my way, then turned back to the earthling. “Quilla didn’t learn until afterward that giving her powers to the other woman also gave her bloodlust to the other woman. And that woman went on to murder the King of Donnelly, along with others.”

“My brother Urban included,” I felt the need to put in.

Dori glanced my way and heaved out a sigh. “Well, hell.”

“Don’t worry,” I had to add. “His true love was present, so she brought him back straight away. Urban’s completely fine and alive today.”

Brow furrowing, Dori shook her head as she repeated, “Brought him back?”

“Oh, yes.” Amara bobbed her head excitedly. “That’s one of the finer perks of finding your true love through the mark. If you can reach them in enough time after they die that their soul is still tethered to their body, you can apply true love’s kiss and bring them back to life.”

Dori gaped at her a moment as if she didn’t understand a word she said before blinking and blurting, “Say what now?”

Amara grinned at her. “Kind of makes you more interested in finding your own true love, doesn’t it?”

Snorting out an incredulous laugh, Dori merely lifted a hand. “Yeah right,” she answered. “Like my true love would be on this planet.” A second after that, her laughter died a sudden death. “Oh my God. What if my true love is on this planet? What if I actually have a true love?”

Her fingers lifted to her new tattoo, where she prodded it gingerly.

She seemed so stunned by the notion that it might locate her true love for her someday that I couldn’t help but glance Amara’s way just as she glanced mine. We shared a knowing, amused smile before Amara turned back to Dori. “Then your life just got infinitely better, I’d say.”

It took me a moment to realize that Amara hadn’t met her mate yet, either. At least, how could she have if she was always trying to touch me and even claimed that she loved me? An already-mated person would never do that. So why had she shared that look with me as if she understood what having a true love was actually like? If she’d had one in the past and he’d died, her mark would’ve faded. But she still had her mark.

Something didn’t add up here.

And why the hell was my entire being tightening with hot, angry jealousy over just thinking about her being with another man?

Amara glanced over as if she could read every traitorous thought in my head. Expression growing concerned, she tipped her face to the side and asked, “What’s wrong?”

I shook my head slowly. “Nothing.”

How had she known I was troubled? I hadn’t made a single sound.

“Okay, enough about all the true-love talk,” Dori said suddenly, making my breath shudder from my lungs in relief because, yes, we’d definitely talked about that enough.

Too much.

And I suddenly realized I hadn’t thought of Unity once during the discussion.

Damn.

“What were some of the other ideas Indigo had to get rid of this curse?” Dori wanted to know.

“Well, mostly it was to sterilize them so they couldn’t reproduce and continue to carry it on down the line, or keep a tracker on them so that they could be imprisoned and contained if a reaping were to break out.”

“Imprisoned?” Dori echoed in a small voice, her face blanching of color.

“Only for a short time,” I assured her quickly. “The bloodlust is a temporary condition. It consumes a person for only days at the most. So don’t worry. It will fade, and you can go back to being normal again.”

Dori huffed out a non-amused laugh. “Normal again?” she muttered. “Right. After I’d just burned an entire town inside a barn, it’d just be business as usual.”

“That’s why either Olivander or I should remain nearby at all times,” Amara told her kindly. “If we can tell you’re about to change, we’ll just—you know—lock you up until you’re better again.”

“Like I’m some kind of werewolf during a full moon?” Dori asked incredulously.

“What’s a were—” I started to ask.

But she railed on over me. “That’s an awful plan. What if you can’t tell I’m about to hulk out? What if I go all Hyde and kill you guys before you can stop me? Then I go off and take out the rest of the entire kingdom? I’m like a ticking time bomb over here.”

Amara and I exchanged a meaningful look until she spun back to the earthling and smiled brightly. “Then I guess we’ll have to get you home or figure out how to break the curse before that happens.”

“Right.” Dori actually seemed embolden and energized by that plan. She fisted her hands and nodded. “Great.” Only to glance between Amara and me and falter a bit. “So, uh, how are we going to do that?”

“Well…” I started. “Tracing Locasta, the curse maker, hasn’t met with any success yet, so—”

“Oh, that reminds me,” Amara cut in as she hurried back toward the window seat to fetch the scroll she’d been browsing through earlier. “I did find something peculiar in the Bjorn scrolls that mentioned a Locasta Blayton.”

I blinked, not expecting to hear that at all. “You did?”

Why would Locasta be mentioned in the Bjorn scrolls? She’d been married to a Graykey. And as far as I knew, Bjorns and Graykeys had avoided each other and warred with each other since the beginning of time.

“I’ll show you the text.” Amara shoved all the other scrolls out of her way so she could plop down the one she was holding. Then she uncoiled it a few inches before pointing. “See here. It says that Locasta Blayton and Avery Bjorn had a son named Ender in year sixty-nine.”

“Ender?” I blinked at the words she was motioning to and read them for myself, only to shake my head in awe. “This Locasta was Ender’s mother?”

“Why?” Dori asked, squinting at my shocked expression. “Who’s Ender?”

“He was the first Bjorn to rule High Cliff. I had no idea his mother was Locasta Blayton.”

“But is this Locasta Blayton the same one we’re looking for?” Amara asked with an uneasy cringe. “Because if she also married Corandra’s son, Holden, and he was supposed to be the first child born in the Outer Realms, then wouldn’t she also have been about the same age as him? That means she would’ve had to be in her late fifties or sixties when she gave birth to Ender.”

“Oh gee,” Dori murmured dryly. “In a world where I can understand freaking birds, yes, it sounds completely impossible that some sixty-year-old chick had a kid.”

I sent her a scowl. “Sarcasm? Really?”

She sent me an equally dry glance right back. “I learned it from watching you, Dad.”

On the other side of me, Amara snorted out an amused laugh. “Okay, fine,” she said, still grinning as she returned to business. “Going off the possibility that Locasta was still able to bear children after she had a daughter with Holden as well as a granddaughter that she started the curse on, why would she move on to a Bjorn after that? And did you see this? Both of Ender’s children married into the Moast line.”

“The Moast line?” I turned back to the scroll. “Really?”

“Wait, I’m lost,” Dori broke in, waving her hands. “Why is the Moast line important?”

“That’s Indigo’s house,” I told her with a short look in her direction before I returned my attention to Amara.

“Do you think he’s distantly related to you?” she wanted to know.

I shrugged. “It’s possible. And very likely. Both our houses have always been close.”

“Here’s what it says,” Amara spoke up, focusing on the text.

The dark sorceress seduced our ancestor when she was near the end of her years—

“Oh!” Amara blinked and looked at Dori. “You’re right. She could get pregnant at her advanced age. Huh.”

Using all the powers she had left to make herself appear young and open her womb again, she chose Avery to father her child, since he was from a pure house, and she needed much purity in his son in order to complete one last feat.

“What was the last feat, you suppose?” I asked.

Amara shook her head as she continued to read to herself before explaining, “No one knows. She died in childbirth, and when she turned back into the old hag she really was upon her death, her husband was so repulsed by her deception, he abandoned the babe there and left, never to be heard from again. One of the midwives took the infant in to raise with her own son. And the midwife was a Moast woman. That must be why, after Ender overthrew King Grothier and became the first Bjorn ruler later in his life, his children ended up marrying into the Moast line.” She looked up. “And now all Moasts and Bjorns share the same ancestors.”

“So it’s really true? Indigo and I are related,” I murmured, taking a moment to let that sink in. Then with a sudden snicker, I shook my head. “Oh, I can’t wait to tell Urban he married kin.”

My brother’s wife was a third cousin to Indigo. And if Indigo and I shared the same ancestors, then Urban and Vienne did too.

Amara rolled her eyes. “I don’t think a familial link nine generations back is all that scandalous.”

Oh, but any reason to heckle my little brother was good enough for me.

“So if Indigo does come from this Bjorn line,” Dori started, frowning as she talked her thoughts through. “And this Locasta lady that’s his ancestor is the same Locasta who started the curse and is the grandmother to the first cursed person, then…” She shook her head and glanced between me and Amara. “Wouldn’t that make him and his mate, Quilla, also distantly related?”

I nodded slowly as I worked it through in my own head. “Yes. Yes, it would.”

Dori glanced between us. “So do you think that means anything?”

“It’s got to mean something,” Amara spoke up. “Indigo wrote about Nalini being very insistent that he and Quilla have a child together. And she took their transference amulets, which will force them to return one day. Plus, she told Olivander that Indy and Quilla were the couple she was seeking, so…”

I nodded. “It’s too much of a coincidence not to be tied into all this somehow.”

“But how?” Amara asked.

I could only shake my head. “I have no idea.”

Amara sighed.

I sighed.

So Dori sighed with us. Then said, “Honestly, I’m still wigging out about the fact that some lady from Earth was able to create this entire world. And she brought nineteen others with her, like some kind of voyager expedition. That’s just crazy.”

“Eighteen others,” Amara corrected vaguely as she turned her attention back to the Bjorn family history scroll. “Since she was one of the original nineteen.”

“Who are these original nineteen people, anyway? I wonder if I’d recognize anyone’s name.”

Amara shrugged. “We have no idea what most of their earthly names were. Indigo wrote that Bridget—as she was named on Earth—was hanged from a tree, which she turned into a portal to bring her here, to the Outer Realms. And when eighteen others came over after her when they were also hanged from that same tree, they all had a ceremony that erased their memories and gave them new identities. The only one who cheated and didn’t give herself a new name was Margaret Scott. So the only Earth names we know are Bridget and Margaret.”

“And when Bridget/Corandra/Mydera/Nalini discovered Margaret’s indiscretion, she turned Margaret into a unicorn,” I added.

Dori’s jaw dropped. “There are unicorns here?”

“They’re very rare,” Amara cautioned her.

I nodded. “I’ve only met one myself.”

“What?” Amara whirled toward me, her jaw dropping. “When did you meet a unicorn?”

She seemed offended by the very notion as if she assumed she knew about every facet of my life. I scowled back, prepared to tell her there was much she didn’t know about me. And it needed to stay that way.

But Dori abruptly asked, “What year is it here again?”

“We’re nearing the end of 328,” I said. “Why?”

“Huh.” She shook her head as if the question had no significance, but then she explained. “It’s the year 2020 at home. So I was just wondering if maybe I could figure out who the original nineteen might be. Hanging almost twenty people isn’t something that happened often on Earth. It’d certainly make the history books. So... 2020 minus 328 is—s**t—I need some scratch paper.”

“It’s sixteen ninety-two,” Amara answered.

I shot her a sharp, surprised glance. “Wow. That was quick math.”

She shrugged and then flushed almost bashfully as she explained, “I excelled the most at mathematics at my academy.”

“So did my…” I frowned thoughtfully. “Wait. You attended an academy? Which academy did you attend?”

She froze, thrown by the question. “Uh, the, uh... You know. The one north of here. In-in Lowden.”

“Warren?” I asked, wondering why she was so suddenly tongue-tied by such a simple question.

“Yes!” She jabbed a finger in my direction. “Right. Thank you.” Then she laughed at herself and bumped a hand against her forehead. “Sorry, my mind went blank there for a second. But yes, I went to Warren.”

“Hmm.”

I continued to stare at her, trying to figure out what had just happened there, when Dori started murmuring aloud to herself.

“Sixteen ninety-two,” she sang softly. “What the hell happened in the world in 1692? Or more specifically in the United States. Because you all talk English here and use the Imperial system of measurement, not the metric—I’ve heard you say feet and inches and yards—which means the original nineteen were most likely from the United States. Or it would’ve still been the colonies at that point, wouldn’t it? Sixteen ninety-two. Ooh, Columbus sailed the ocean blue! No, no. That was 1492. What...?”

She began to flip through Indigo’s journal until she found something that interested her. “Wait. What’s this? You said Corandra was actually named Bridget on Earth? And one of the other original nineteen was Margaret Scott. So what nineteen people in the 1692 colonies—one named Bridget and one named Margaret—were hanged from—Oh my God!”

She threw up her hands and slashed her shocked gaze toward us. “I got it. They were from the Salem Wi—”

She frowned and tried to talk again. “Wha…weeeee...” she stressed, unable to verbalize what she wanted to say.

Blinking, she pressed a hand to the base of her throat. “Why can’t I say the word?”

I tipped my head, wondering what was wrong with her. “What word are you trying to say?”

“Wi—” Dori started, only to growl low in her throat. “What the hell! I am literally unable to say the word. How is that possible?”

Amara shrugged. “If it’s a word the creator of this world doesn’t like, maybe she’s stricken it from our language.”

“Well, if she was murdered because she was accused of being one of them, then hell no, she wouldn’t like it,” Dori muttered logically.

“Can you spell it?” I asked.

“Sure.” Dori nodded. “It’s W-I-T-C-H. Rhymes with ditch, b***h, snitch, hitch, rich, glitch. How can I say all those words, but I can’t say wi—argh! This is just pissing me off now.”

“Wi—” Amara tried, only to laugh. “Oh my goodness. You’re right. I can’t say it either. “Wiiiiiiii…” Tugging at the sleeve of my tunic, she said, “Try it. This is incredible.”

I furrowed my brow and blinked, saying nothing because I didn’t want to look as silly as they did when I wouldn’t be able to enunciate it either.

“Watch,” Amara attempted. “Wutch. Wiiii—Nope. Still can’t do it. How marvelous.”

When she laughed, I stared at her, struck by the sound. It was lovely.

And vaguely familiar.

“Marvelous?” Dori was screeching in outrage, however. “It’s a pain in the ass is what it is.” Lifting her face upward, she increased her volume as if she wanted someone in the sky to hear her. “You know, on Earth, we’re permitted to say any damn word we please. I mean, there are always consequences, but no f*****g deity literally binds our tongues silent. That’s just rude! You hear me, creator lady or whatever you go by these days? It’s rude!” Glaring over at me and Amara, she huffed. “What other stupid nonsense does she prohibit us from doing?”

I lifted an eyebrow and dryly answered, “Next time I see Nalini, I’ll be sure to ask.”