Like the Dawn (Lark #3)

Like the Dawn

A Lark Novel

Erica Cope

Like the Dawn
Copyright © 2014 Erica Cope

Cover Design by Eden Crane

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form without written permission from the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes.

This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to any person, living or dead, any place, events or occurrences, is purely coincidental. The characters and story lines are created from the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

ISBN-13: 978-1497364134 
ISBN-10: 1497364132

To my children,

Addie, Mia and Jack.

Love you three to the moon and back.

I hope that you always follow your dreams.

Chapter 1

            
 
I
'
m sitting down beside her. She's laying so still and I find myself straining to hear her faint heartbeat though I can hear perfectly the heartbeat of the nurse down the hall. I don't want to disturb her so I try not to touch her. I fiddle with my hands, twisting a strand of my long blond hair around one of my fingers. The walls are covered in a faded wallpaper with tiny blue flowers in vertical lines. The paper-thin privacy curtain is pulled around the bed, separating her from the rest of the empty room and providing us with a little  solitude. I'm thankful for it. I'm not sure how I would explain who I am if a nurse should ask.
              Her limp, silvery gray hair is frizzier than curly now and so thin. I can't help but run my fingers through it remembering sadly how golden the curls once were. Her eyelids weakly flutter open; it surprises me how dull and muted her sapphire eyes have become and a heavy ache of regret fills my chest.             
              “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you. It's okay. Everything is fine. You can go back to sleep,” I whisper soothingly.
              Her eyes open wider, more alert and focused than should be possible for a woman of her age who is on the brink of death.
              “I know you,” she says hesitantly. Her eyes are squinted and unfocused, like she's reaching into the depths of her memories searching for the right one. The one that will answer her question regarding this stranger beside her.
              I remain silent, unsure of how I should respond. Do I tell her who I am? How can I possibly explain that to her?
              Before I have a chance to decide what I should do, her gaze refocuses on my face.
              “Mia?” she asks, like she doesn't trust her eyes—like she's seeing a ghost, which I suppose is how this must seem to her. She was so young the last time she saw me that I honestly wasn't expecting her to recognize me at all. I just wanted to be here with her—to make sure she wasn't alone.  Her recollection catches me off guard.
              “Is it really you?” she asks again. Her voice is feeble and I can tell how much energy it’s taking from her as her mind tries to comprehend what she is seeing.             
              “Yes, it's me.”
              Her breathing is labored and tears cloud my eyes and start to fall steadily onto my lap as I realize that it's almost time to let go.
              “How?” she asks weakly. I didn't mean to confuse her, I feel horrible for doing so. I just wanted to be with her at the end. I didn't want her to go alone.
              “It doesn't matter how. All that matters is I'm here. You're not alone.”
              “Mia,” she says again, and as she takes her last raspy breath, I kiss her forehead gently.
              “Goodbye, Maddie Rose.”
              My eyes jerk open and it takes me a minute to shake off the dream and realize that I have not suddenly warped through time. Maddie is still two-years-old with golden curls and bright blue eyes full of life.
              And even though I know that she and the rest of my mortal family are safe—that I did the right thing—I can't shake the feeling that this is somehow terribly wrong. That I've made a mistake.
              Who wants to live forever when everyone you love will eventually fade away?
              Of course, not everyone I love is mortal. My father will remain with me. And Grey. But Maddie, my mom, my step-dad Paul, and...and Jacoby will all die someday and I will be forced to continue on without them. That's something I haven't come to terms with just yet. I knew what I was getting myself into when I agreed to allow Sól to change me, but that doesn't make it any easier. Even though I know it's impossible, I feel like a piece of me is dying a little bit every day.               
              I look down at the gold square marking with the loops on each of the four corners on the inside of my left wrist—the only noticeable change since Sól made me immortal.
              In fact, now that I think about it I should have known it was a dream all along because, immortal now or not, I still lack the elfish super-hearing ability. There's no way I could have heard anybody's heartbeat from all the way down the hall.               Nope, for all intents and purposes, I'm exactly the same as I was before except, of course, that my expected life span just increased by a millennium or so.   I guess I was expecting a more drastic change but so far I haven't noticed anything physical. My ears didn't suddenly elongate into elfish points for example; in fact, I still look exactly the same.
              Well, except for the gold mark on the inside of my wrist. The color is so faint that it's barely noticeable unless the light hits it just right but I feel like there is a spotlight shining on it, as though shouting out to the world that I'm marked. Forever changed.
              Even though I really don't look any different after the change, I feel different in my soul. The whole thing happened so quickly that I hardly remember the process at all. At least, not well enough to explain it.
              I just remember standing before the Sun goddess as she placed her hand around my wrist.               There was a flash of light that seemed to completely surround me, blinding me from my surroundings momentarily and then everything was warm—like a fire was flowing through my veins and just when I thought that my body wouldn't be able to handle any more it was over and everything had changed.
              I had become different.
              It hurt more than I thought it would. Not just the actual process of the change, but more so in my heart afterward. My heart hurts for the life I have given up. The pain is real and it takes every ounce of effort just to remember to breathe.
              The bright yellow sunlight streaming in through the thick velvet curtains makes me think that I've slept in longer than normal this morning.  I sit up, stretching my arms and trying to make my heart rate slow down. I hate the way that my heart races when I wake up suddenly. It feels like it might fly right out of my chest.
              I know that I should, but I don't want to get out of my bed yet so I lay back down, pulling the covers up around me again. Hiding underneath the lush covers that seem to be filled with the softest of down feathers is the only source of comfort I have at all these days. I just want to lay here for a few more minutes and try to pretend that I'm just a normal teenager. Maybe if I close my eyes tightly enough I will be back in Manhattan, Kansas sleeping in my lumpy old twin bed and just trying to get in an extra fifteen minute snooze before school. I wish I could go back to the days where the only things I had to worry about were keeping my grades up and not missing cheerleading practice.
              But that life is over now and it's time for me to get out of bed and face the new day.
              After a light tap on the door, Freya hesitantly enters my room. “Good morning, Princess,” she greets me brightly.
              “Freya, for the millionth time, please call me Mia.”
              “Right, sorry.” The flaxen-haired elf curtsies. I've told her a million times she doesn't have to do that either but since she is already embarrassed I decide not to remind her. She's so delicate looking—by far the most petite elf I've ever seen—that she often reminds me of a child even though I know she's a lot older than myself. She just seems so fragile.
              “What time is it?” I ask her. I'm still lying in my bed, the most comfortable thing in the entire world. Even the smell of it is comforting: a delicious mix of Christmas and spring is how Jacoby always described it. I hate that I just thought of him in past-tense.
              He's not dead, just gone. And he's only gone because of me. I hate that too.
              “Just after nine,” she answers softly.
              “Why did you let me sleep in so late?” I ask.
              “His Majesty thought you could use the rest.”
              I heave a heavy sigh. I wish he'd stop worrying about me. I mean, I know he's just being thoughtful because he cares about me, but at the same time, I'm the last person who should be 'resting' right now.               We're only in this mess because of me. I should be spending every moment trying to come up with a plan to fix it. It's not that I haven't tried. It's just that if there is a solution it's completely evading me at the moment which is all the more reason that I can't be sleeping in.
              “What's on the agenda for today?” I ask Freya.
              “First, breakfast with His Majesty, of course. Today's council meeting has been postponed until tomorrow so—”
              “Wait,” I interrupt her. “Why has the council meeting been postponed?”
              We've been having daily council meetings ever since I broke the curse. Of course, nothing at all has been accomplished during the meetings but it still feels wrong that today's meeting is cancelled.
              “I am uncertain, though I heard a rumor that it has something to do with Lord Odin.”
              “Odin?” I ask, surprised. I hope that this means we are finally going to be
doing
something instead of just debating what we
should
do. All this talk and no action is killing me. I just want the whole thing to be over with but it seems that everyone else is perfectly content with arguing with one another until they are all blue in the face. The issue doesn't seem nearly that complicated to me.
              If it was up to me, we would have already attacked the Dark Elves with brute force. But the Light Elves pride themselves on being a peaceful group so a war of any kind completely goes against their nature.
              “That's what I heard,” Freya says with a shrug before continuing. “I'm sorry I don't have any more information for you.”
              “No, it's fine. It's not like you're my personal spy or anything. So how does this change my 'schedule' for the day?”
              “It doesn't impact it too much—you will just have more free time this afternoon.”
             
Great. Free time.
              Freya continues, “You will have your lessons with Grey after breakfast, instead of this afternoon.”
              Grey has been teaching me about the history of Álfheimr and the Light Elves since I first came here. It's a long and extensive history that is very much like one of the daytime soap operas my mom's so fond of.
              There are only a few ways elves can die. Usually they choose to after they feel they are ready to leave this world and be 'one' with nature again. Of course, we still aren't exactly sure if that rule applies to me now. Sól has been noticeably absent so I haven't been able to ask her all the questions that occurred to me after the change took place and it's not exactly possible for me to just Google it.               Occasionally something tragic will happen to an elf. Isobel was poisoned by her husband Finnegan and almost died, but thanks to Sól I was able to heal her in time. Some elves aren't that lucky. Fortunately, a tragic death is a rare occurrence.
              Since elves can live as long as they want to, I guess it wasn't uncommon for kings to get bored with their current significant other after a few hundred years and seek excitement elsewhere. Which, consequently, makes their royal history consist mostly of “who was married to who” and “who slept with who”—lots of drama in the past.
              Romance-wise, my father's has been the most drama-free reign that the kingdom has ever known. Sure, he fell in love with a human and had an illegitimate half-blood daughter, but other than that my dad looks like a saint.
              Of course he's had his fair share of other drama; namely a war against his own brother—his twin, in fact, though you'd never guess it from looking at them. Alberico and Dugan are about as different as day and night. Dugan was the firstborn so he technically should have been heir to the throne, but Alberico was the favored of the two, which is what started the whole feud in the first place.
              Dugan left and founded his own kingdom in Svartálfaheim. He and his people committed such atrocious crimes against the Light Elves and humanity that Sól banished them into the Underworld and placed a curse on them that prevented them from ever walking in the sunlight.
              That is, of course, until I broke the curse and unleashed their evilness back on the world.
              Okay so yeah, Alberico's reign has been just as dramatic as his predecessors’—just not so much in the relationship department. Other than falling in love with a human, his love life has been completely uneventful. I can only hope that when I'm queen, my reign is a little less eventful in both political and romantic affairs.