The Second Life of Magnolia Mae (8 page)

Read The Second Life of Magnolia Mae Online

Authors: Angela Schroeder

Tags: #science fiction, #young adult, #historical fiction, #time travel, #contemporary fantasy

BOOK: The Second Life of Magnolia Mae
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Gordon
removed the ring from Daciana’s finger. He stood
and
nudged her body down the side of the hill. Just as he was about to place the ring into the pouch hanging from his belt,
Dragoste leaped through the air,
seemingly
coming from nowhere,
and landed on the man who had just taken the life of the only friend
the wolf
had.
Gordon got away, bloody,
but with his life.
At the bottom of the hill
the
wolf
curled his body up to Daciana’s in an attempt to warm her…

Tears streamed down her face.

“Mag?”

“M&M, what is it?” Jace spoke softly. His sister’s face was white, her body shook as if she was freezing. He grabbed a blanket from the chair and quickly wrapped it around her. He led her away from the window and back to the fire. “Talk to us.”

Bash appeared at her side holding a bottle of water. He quickly uncapped it and handed it to her. He sat with his arm draped around her.

Magnolia’s voice shook when she finally spoke, “I saw him kill her. I watched her die. There was nobody there. Nobody to help her, the only one to try was the wolf, Dragoste. She was my age. Her entire life ahead of her.” Tears soaked her cheeks, and her body still trembled.

“It was just a daydream,” Bash whispered.

“No, it wasn’t. She was a real person. She was somebody important. It felt so real I could feel her fear. I could hear her thoughts as she slipped into blackness. Thoughts for her people, for the man she loved.” She shrugged Bash’s arm off of her shoulders and found herself in her brother’s arms.

He mumbled reassurances under his breath. When she finally pulled away from Jace, she glanced at the mantle and saw the ring. Picking it up, she looked at it in the firelight then glanced out the window. Lightning flashed brightly, showing them that the wolf was almost directly outside the window. She slowly slipped the ring onto her finger.

The room began to spin around her. She could hear Bash and Jace yelling, calling for her. The sound of glass shattering caused her to jerk her head toward the window. The wolf was now in the house. Chiming, the clock was striking out the hour: eight, nine, ten, eleven. A strong force pulled at her just as her fingertips came into contact with Jace. She could see Bash reaching for her on the other side. But the three of them were being pulled in different directions, out into the storm, then enveloped in complete blackness and silence.

CHAPTER TEN

 

M
AGNOLIA
FELT THE
BITTERLY
cold rain on her face. The slightest movement caused her shoulder to burn with pain. Her entire body hurt. Her eyes flew open as she hungrily sucked in fresh air. She felt something warm and soft against her and wanted to snuggle closer to it. When she went to move, she groaned in pain, causing the soft warmth to emit a low growl. Turning her head as well as she could, she saw that she was lying next to the wolf.

She allowed her eyes to search out her surroundings, and her heart began to pound as she realized that she was at the bottom of the hill that she had just seen Gordon roll Daciana down. She glanced down at herself to see that she was covered in mud and blood. The panic rose in her, causing her face to tingle. Where was Jace? She called out for him as she tried to pull herself up off the ground. “Jace!” She saw a shadow at the top of the hill. Her hand went to her hair, and she pulled the dagger hidden there. She stumbled up to her unsteady feet then laid a hand on Dragoste for support.

Soon the man was a few feet in front of her, and Dragoste was not growling.

“Daciana, what happened?” the man who looked so much like her brother asked with great concern. The same golden eyes, the same brown hair, the same strong jaw, but he was wearing a leather jerkin over a white linen shirt, and brown trousers that were tucked into boots. A sword hung at his side.

“Jace?” Her voice sounded puzzled, even to herself. Daciana did not have any siblings, so if she was Daciana, now who was this?

The man nodded his head.

“Yes, m’lady. Though you are the only one who calls me that. Jaceson.”

“Jaceson? I don’t know you,” she mumbled as her legs gave out from under her.

He caught her in his strong arms. Jaceson lifted her easily and carried her, Dragoste staying at their side. He walked until he found a cave that was protected from the rain. A few yards inside he found a small pool of water. He gently set her down.

She could hear him moving through the cave, scratches and scrapes of things against rock and dirt. She could only make out his shadow until he started a fire.

She shivered in her wet and muddy clothes as she kept her eyes on him. He looked so much like her brother. Could he be? Did he come with her? Was she dreaming again? The blood that still oozed from her wounds reminded her that she was not dreaming. It was just as her parents had told her; she was back to finish what should have been done hundreds of years ago.

“Who are you?” Her voice trembled when she finally spoke.

He pulled his shirt over his head and draped it across a stone near the fire so it would dry. “Jaceson of Marcello. Did you hit your head when you fell?”

“I did not fall.” She raised her chin, though it caused pain to erupt through her body.

“What happened?” he asked again.

“He tried to kill me. I must have blacked out, and he mistook me for dead. He shoved me down the hill, probably hoping to make it look like an accident.” She could not tell him that she had died, and now she was back.

“Who?” An edge entered his voice, an edge that sounded all too familiar, like her Jace.

“Gordon.” His name was whispered as a chill of fear that he would reappear ran down her spine.

“We will find him and kill him.” Hate dripped from his voice like poison.

“You cannot. If you do, then you’ll not discover who sent him.” She shivered then moved closer to the fire to try to dry her dress and allow some warmth to enter back into her body.

Dragoste stayed close to her, offering her his warmth.

“Where is Bash?”

“Alistair? He is looking for you. You did not come back. You said you were only going to be gone for a short while. He was worried about you being out in this storm on All Hollow’s Eve.” Jaceson turned his back to her and walked toward the mouth of the cave. “He may be back at the castle to see if there has been any word about you.” When he turned back to face her, she saw his eyes lock on the wounds where she could feel the warm blood oozing. With a few long quick strides, he was at the pool behind her. She heard a rip of cloth then drips of water. When he returned to her side, he handed the cloth to her so that she could clean herself. “We need to get you back to the castle. You need to be attended to.”

He waited until she wiped the blood and mud off as best as she could, but fresh blood sprang back in its place.

“How far?”

“It should not take long. I will help you, m’lady.”

She nodded and followed him out into the cold night. The rain had let up to a light sprinkle. The walk back to the castle was a slippery and tiring one. She had been through quite the ordeal, and Jaceson must have noticed her weariness because he cradled her into his arms and carried her the rest of the way. She allowed her head to rest on his chest as he carried her to the castle entry grateful that he was there to help her.

She heard shouts, feet running, and things clattering, but she was so tired she could not look up to see what was going on around her. She was drifting off when she felt the sudden warmth of being inside some place dry with a roaring fire.

“Fetch Nonna.” Jaceson’s voice boomed. He carried her up the stairway to her chambers. The door was opened before they reached it. She opened her eyes to see a young lady in the room, rummaging about, pulling out clean dry clothes. A fire blazed hotly from the fireplace. Jaceson set her down in a large plush purple chair close to the fireplace.

“I will be back shortly.”

She watched as he quickly exited the room, and Nonna entered, closing the door behind her. The old woman was exactly as she had been in all the visions. Long silver hair cascaded loosely down her back and framed her kind face.

She closed her eyes and allowed Nonna and the young lady to attend to her wounds, dress her in warm clothes, dry her hair, and help her get settled into the large bed. Dragoste stretched out next to the fire. Nonna’s soothing voice was close by, but Daciana could no longer keep her eyes open. Eyelids slid closed as if they had a will of their own, and soon sleep claimed her.

 

 

Pain seared through her body, her eyes still closed tightly. Fear that opening them would reveal to her what she already knew deep in her soul caused her to keep them closed as she listened the quiet whispers around her.

“She will live.” The voice of Nonna was close to her bed. She felt the old woman’s hand pat her own hand gently. “She does not give up so easily.”

“Why would someone want to cause her harm, let alone kill her? She has never done anything to hurt anyone. She is always thinking of others, putting their needs before her own. I do not understand this.” The masculine voice sounded vaguely familiar. Perhaps someone would say his name, though she was not sure what good that would do her. Certainly, she would not know everyone here, only those she had seen in her dreams and read about in the history books.

A firm soothing voice came next that she recognized as Jaceson’s. “She told me who it was. I always knew he was a conniving serpent, but I didn’t think he would have betrayed you. It is no secret how you feel for her. Everyone knows of the ring.” Feet shuffled across the floor. A cluttering sound reached her ears and a crackle; a log had apparently been tossed on the fire. “We cannot allow someone to get this close to her again.”

“Jace?” She finally mumbled, slowly opening her eyes. Her throat was drier than the desert. Her hand shook when she moved it.

She saw the look of confusion exchanged between the men, and the look of jealousy that came from the man with haunting blue eyes. The eyes from her dreams, the eyes of Alistair. Jaceson stepped toward her bed.

“I want to go home, Jace.” Part of her ached for the home where she’d grown up, the home of
her
Jace. Though this man who stood before her was very much like him, he was not her sibling here. She wanted her brother back, but to have that she had to reject this place, forget that she was here for a reason. It didn’t matter to her what that reason was if she could not have her brother. She had lost her parents. She was not sure she could stand losing her brother also.

“You are home. This castle is your home now.” His words were soft and soothing as he stepped even closer to her.

She watched him as he glanced from her to the pitcher of water. In silence he filled a cup and brought it to her lips. The liquid soothed the dryness, and she licked her lips before accepting another drink.

“Don’t you remember?” he asked as he set the cup down, looking at her then at everyone else in the room.

“Remember what?”

“Your journey here. Our journey here, settling everyone into their new homes. This was all because of you, m’lady.” Concern filled Jaceson’s eyes. “What do you remember?” He leaned against the wall, crossed his arms over his chest, and looked down at her.

Her eyes went from him to the man who moved to stand next to his side. He was tall and muscular. His dark hair and piercing blue eyes screamed at her to remember. She recognized him but only from her dreams and what she’d read in the books. A deep sadness filled her heart as she realized that this man who looked at her so lovingly now was not in love with
her,
but in love with whom she had been before Gordon came along.

“I…” She glanced at Nonna to see kindness and understanding in her eyes. The old woman’s hand held Magnolia’s, comforting her. “I remember speaking with Nonna about talking to King Pelonis, seeking an audience with him to have this land for our own home, a kingdom of our own. I remember Gordon in the village hurting me then. A chase through the woods, being followed by someone. Terrified that if I did not make it back to the camp, I would never see my family again.” She swallowed and felt the gentle squeeze of Nonna’s hand. “Last night, Gordon said he enjoyed the hunt. I remember the struggle.” She lifted her hand to her throat, gently touching it.

A dark scowl went across the faces of both men.

“He will pay for what he did.” Alistair grated the words out.

“You found me. I wanted Bash.” She glanced around the room, looking to see if she had missed anyone else. She thought that Jaceson would have brought Bash here. What was it he had said last night?

“I am here.” Alistair stepped forward, a small smile on his face.

Confusion filled her. Was this not Prince Alistair in front of her? She shook her head while looking at him.

“Alistair Sebastian of Marcello. You and Jaceson are the only ones who call me Bash.” He dropped to his knees by her bed.

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