Destiny's Chosen

Prologue

Get out, he demanded. His dark purple robes rested on the cold marble floor in heavy folds of velvet. Stiffly he sat upon his throne. Grace knelt before him, her head bowed so low her forehead almost touched the ground. Two guards stood on either side of her ready to do their master’s bidding. She didn’t move. Lewis stood up. Get. OUT!

Finally, Grace looked up at him in dismay. What do you mean?

Why didn’t you tell me? he growled. He could have protected her, hidden her away, but now it was too late. Lamonet already knew, and he would use his knowledge to his advantage. He closed his eyes, and the events from the night before clouded his thoughts.

My Lord, Lamonet had addressed the king as he’d approached. His black cloak folded around him like the wings of a raven, and his yellow eyes were unblinking. I’m sorry you had to find out this way. You must be rid of her. Fyseans are not to be trusted, her deception is proof of that.

What do you suggest I do about it? he asked. Never in all of his life had he been forced to make a harder decision.

Well… Lamonet sighed. He circled the council table, his fingers idly drumming on the surface. There’s only one rational solution I foresee.

Tell me. I’ll do anything, he pleaded. He was desperate. If his people found out that their king had married a woman of Fysean blood the penalty would be great, not only to the kingdom but also to him.

First, you must get rid of her, Lamonet had said as he transferred his gaze from the floor to the king. His eyes had been as cold as a window glass in winter. Then, you must kill the boy.

Lewis was brought back to the present by the sound of his soldiers’ chainmail clinking against the swords at their sides. He reopened his eyes. I said get out, he repeated coldly.

Grace stared at the floor, unable to look at her husband. I’m not like them. You know I’m not.

Your people were banished for a reason! Lewis yelled. Had I known what you were, I would have never have married you.

Her head snapped up. If I remember correctly, I didn’t have much say in the matter, she spat.

It is no different now than it was then, he said in a tone that could chill the buds of spring. His eyes, however, were aflame. You and your daughter must leave by first light. If you ever show yourself to me again, the punishment will be death, as is fit for your kind. He had to protect her in some way, had to protect himself. Lamonet would do much worse if he didn’t play along.

What of Carimaer? she asked in a small voice.

His jaw was set. He shall stay with me.

He’s as much my son as he is yours. He is of Fysean blood.

He stays with me. Lewis left the room.

Come here, little one, Samuel said as he stared at the little baby crawling on the floor. Of all the things the king could have asked him to do—organize books, find a scroll hidden beneath ten layers of dust, or clean the entire library—this was the last thing he expected.

At least the boy did not throw tantrums. Indeed, he rarely cried. He was a strange boy, a strangeness that had been heralded by the unlocking of the Tulawa trunk on the night of his birth. For centuries kings, queens, and princes had made their bid at prying open the mysterious casket. And then, it had simply unlocked, without prompt, releasing the prophecy held within. It was a mystery laced in a riddle, and it was as thickly entwined in this young boy’s fate as light was with the sun.

No, no, no, not that way, he said laughing as Carimaer crawled towards the door. We don’t want Lamonet knowing you’re here, now do we? he asked as he swung the boy up in the air. You’re staying here with me for a while. At least until it’s safe. Until it was safe. During times like these Samuel was beginning to wonder when those words would come true.

Amie stood in a room surrounded by mirrors. She had only been here once before, and that had been to take Trysha’s girls home with her. She’d thought that her duty to Arugan was finished, so she had no idea why she’d been summoned to Viguanaugra. She paced the floor and continued to look at a single blue and black, swirling mirror. On her tenth time across the room, she turned around and saw Keks standing before her, as if he had been expecting her for a long time.

Hello, Amie, he said calmly, a glint of a smile reflected in his eyes. He had grown since the last time she had seen him, and a few stubbles on his chin were all that showed he’d matured into a young man. He was a handsome boy, but she was not at all happy to see him, for she knew that he could only bring bad news.

You? she asked.

We have one more task for you to complete. King Lewis has a son, he began without prelude. His wife is from Fyse and he has just now found out. Lamonet is counseling Lewis and telling him he has to kill the boy. After the disappearance of Cora and Rhema, Lamonet gave up hope of controlling Arugan. But now, he figures if he can get rid of Lewis’s only heir, he will be able to take the throne.

So what do you suggest I do about it? she asked.

We need you to marry Lewis, gain his trust, and then send the boy away the same way you helped my sister.

She was speechless. Excuse me? She’d had a life in Arugan and had given it up for Trysha’s sake. Now she had a life on Earth with her friend’s daughters and they were going to take that away from her as well?

We can’t force you to do anything, but this is the only chance we have to undermine Lamonet. Carimaer is more important than you realize. At his birth, as if by magic, a sealed trunk flew open bearing its sole contents, a prophecy about Viguanagura. Please, Amie, for Viguanagura.

She had no other choice. If she didn’t do it, someone else would, and she didn’t think she could live with that the rest of her life. She could only nod her assent.

Grace escaped from her chambers and slipped passed the sleeping guards. She hadn’t been thrown into the dungeons, but house arrest was just as bad. As soon as she was able to flee her room without being detected, she left in search of Lamonet.

She threw the doors to the study open. Everything smelled faintly of mahogany: the shelving, paneling on the wall, mantel, and the ornate desk at the far end of the room were all carved from the rich wood. In the hearth a fire was lit, giving the room a warm glow. The only foreboding aspect was the figure seated in the dark, wing backed chair. Why? she demanded. Why all this? I cannot tell you of the Alchemist’s Cove, I’ve told you before. You cannot enter the place. It cannot be done! End this disgusting performance now! I wish to speak to my husband!

"Oh, but Grace, you can tell me. We were best friends! Surely you can trust me of all people." He did nothing to hide the condescension in his voice.

Trust you? Trust a power hungry, manipulative snake? she spat.

He waved his hand nonchalantly. If you must be that way… but, it’s cost you your son’s life. He snapped his fingers and two guards appeared and seized her by the arms. Make sure she doesn’t get out this time, Lamonet snarled.

She kept her face as stoic as possible, but inside she was trembling. She would not show fear. "The Cove will remain closed to you forever. Its secrets will never be yours."

She had the satisfaction of watching a look of bewilderment sweep across his face before the door was closed.

Chapter 1

THE LAST BOX

C ourtney’s eyes flew open as her cell phone alarm went off at the opposite end of her room. Groaning and muttering unpleasant things under her breath, she buried her head under her covers and chucked her pillow in the direction of the noise, knowing full well it wouldn’t help at all. After hearing the crash of what she knew was her desk lamp, she forcefully threw back her covers, looked over irritably at the phone, and staggered over to shut off the annoying buzzing sound. With a yawn, she stretched out her arms and twisted her back as she looked outside her bedroom window.

Overnight, a thick layer of snow had adorned their driveway and sidewalk in a blanket of white. The sun, hidden behind the clouds, found a small window to peek through, and, sharing her abundance, gave the snow an indescribable glow.

Courtney smiled. Today was the perfect day for setting up Christmas decorations. It was a tradition she always looked forward to. On the first day of Christmas break, she, her older sister Rebecca, and their dad would climb the creaky ladder up into the dust encrusted, mothball infested attic that hadn’t been touched since they had put away the previous year’s decorations.

Hot chocolate would be simmering over the stove all day, with Dad’s fresh baked chocolate chip cookies heaped upon a platter and an enticing pumpkin pie as well. Festive Christmas music sounding throughout the house, but not without a sisterly battle between she and Rebecca on whether Michael Bublé or Josh Groban would be the first to sing through their speakers. The traditions were the same each and every year, and she never grew tired of them.

The snow began to lightly fall again as Courtney stared outside, completely immersed in her thoughts. As the snowflakes graced her window, as they melted into tiny puddles and settled on the ground amongst the rest, she couldn’t help think of how charming Jennifer’s tree house in Viguanagura would look in all of this snow. Tyehimba Village, too, if it were still standing.

She sighed. It was no use thinking about Viguanagura now. They could never find their way back to that enchanting world. She and Rebecca tried to keep the memories alive in their minds. That accidental three week adventure to the fantasy world had been the most unexpected adventure. Viguanagura’s existence was known only to their dad and two closest friends, so she was glad to talk to other people about it, but it was depressing to remember, too. Every day, Courtney had to remind herself that they would never be able to go back, and every day, she started her morning in somewhat of a bad mood.

After taking a quick shower and throwing on her red and black flannel pajama pants and her purple University of Evansville sweatshirt, she opened her bedroom door and followed the smell of bacon, eggs, and something that resembled pancakes all the way down the hallway and into the kitchen. Before she even made it there, she knew the scene that would greet her. Rebecca would be sitting at the breakfast nook, a cup of tea in her favorite blue and green, splotched mug and a book placed in front of her. Her dad would be standing at the stovetop, his Grill Master apron tied about his waist, whipping up a classic Saturday morning breakfast. Although, none of it would be exactly classic. No matter the recipe, George Marks always had a way of making the dish more flavorful and more fun. He was always adding a dash of this or a pinch of that to add more liveliness or pizazz as he liked to call it.

Sure enough, when Courtney stepped into the kitchen, a plate had been set out for her. Toast with raspberry jam, a Belgium waffle with blueberries on top, and a side of bacon were waiting for her, a tall glass of orange juice sitting quietly beside it.

Morning, Sleepy Head, Mr. Marks said as he gave her a peck on the cheek. I was beginning to think that you’d never wake up.

Oh, come on, Dad, Rebecca teased from her seat at the nook. It’s eleven. So far as I know, that’s a record! She grinned playfully and shoved a bite of pancake into her mouth.

Courtney grabbed her breakfast and took her seat beside her sister. "You’re one to talk. I bet you just got up."

Nailed it, George said affirmatively.

Dad! Rebecca cried. Did not!

Did, too, she said. You still have your pajamas on.

Oh, shut up, Rebecca muttered as she speared the last bite of eggs on her plate with her fork. I’ve had less sleep than you all semester. I’m entitled to an excuse. Casually, she checked the time on her watch, but gasped when she saw that it was twenty minutes until noon. The palm of Rebecca’s hand flew up to smack her forehead. Danget! I completely forgot! After rapidly chugging down the rest of her juice, Rebecca dashed down the hallway and into her room. The loud bang of her door being slammed echoed down the hallway.

Mr. Marks grinned. I don’t see how she could forget, he said as he turned over the eggs that were sizzling in the frying pan. It’s all she’s talked about since you two got home yesterday.

Courtney shrugged her shoulders, still at a loss to why Rebecca had jumped up so suddenly. She was hungry so she casually dug into her meal. The bacon tasted heavenly.

After Friday’s classes had ended, she and Rebecca had immediately hopped into their blue Volkswagen Bug in the hopes of making it back home before dark.

A lot had happened once Rebecca had graduated from Lynway High. As a congratulation gift, their dad had sent both she and Courtney to Italy for three weeks of their summer vacation. While they had been there, they’d had a number of memorable experiences and adventures, but a 48-hour delay in an airport and temporarily losing their baggage could never amount to the time she and Rebecca had spent in Viguanagura.

They both refused to call it their imaginary world. It felt far too real for that, but as the days had passed, which added up to two years now, they were beginning to wonder if it all had been merely a dream. The only thing that kept them believing in Viguanagura’s existence was the fact that their mother, Amie, still hadn’t come back. After sending the girls back home through a magical mirror, she had dropped the mirror before either of them had had a chance to stop her. By doing so, she had not only succeeded in preventing them from ever returning to Viguanagura, but also in preventing herself from ever coming back, an action for which Courtney was sure she would never forgive her.

And now, here they were. Two years later, both Courtney and Rebecca in college at the University of Evansville back home to decorate the house for Christmas. Without a mother.

The doorbell rang, bringing Courtney out of her reverie.

Hey, Court, you wanna get that? her dad asked.

Sure, she said as she shoved her last bite of waffle into her mouth.

The doorbell rang again.

I’m coming, I’m coming, she assured as she went to answer the door. As soon as she opened it, her face flooded with embarrassment, for standing in front of her were Michael and Issac Preston. The boys were Courtney and Rebecca’s lifelong friends, and if the situation weren’t already uncomfortable, they also happened to be their boyfriends.

After getting back from Viguanagura, Michael had awkwardly come up to Courtney and asked if she would consider dating him. She had laughed at him and said yes right away, for she had come to realize that their friendship had made way for her to come to terms with the fact that she loved him dearly. She couldn’t have asked for a more perfect boy.

It was a little weird at first, getting used to the fact that she was dating him, but she just had to remind herself that he was her best friend. Whenever he would wrap his arms around her, there was something inside her that stirred, twisted, and made her heart speed up. His touch sent shocks down her spine, something it had never done before. Their relationship was strong and tender, special and ordinary, perfect to the point where even going to college in different states could never ruin their friendship.

Issac and Rebecca, on the other hand, had gone about it a little differently. While they had been in Viguanagura, Rebecca had met a handsome griffentaur, a creature who was half horse and half man. While trying to keep a steady friendship with Issac, she had fallen for the griffentaur, Lor. Each of the boys was jealous of the other and vied for her attention. Lor had been gentler about it than Issac, but Issac understood and listened to Rebecca like no one else. He knew that it would have been too much for Rebecca if he had asked her out right away, so he’d waited patiently and just kept reminding Rebecca that he was there for her. About three months after they’d returned, Issac had gotten up the courage to ask Rebecca if she would be his girlfriend, and she joyfully had said yes. Courtney knew that being able to be closer to her was great for him, and she knew that he wasn’t going anywhere any time soon.

Issac stood at the door in his dark wash straight jeans, a black, double breasted peacoat, and a red scarf. He had grown out his hair a little since the last time Courtney had seen him, and she thought it suited him very well.

Michael, on the other hand, looked more like he should have been somewhere with warmer weather. He was dressed in loose fitting jeans with holes in them, a hoodie from Hollister that was unzipped, a pair of orange Converse, and a black beanie which covered his golden yellow curls. He chuckled as he looked Courtney up and down. Well, I can see that you were expecting to see us today, he said as he wiped the snow off his shoes before coming in the house.

Well, not exactly, she replied as her hands flew up to her head. Great. Her hair was still in a towel.

It’s good to see you, too, he said as he came up to her, slid his arm around her waist, and kissed her lightly on the lips.

They heard George clear his throat loudly from the kitchen. Even though both she and Rebecca were adults and could do whatever they wanted, their dad insisted that they not just randomly start making out when he happened to be around.

Yeah, come on you guys. I don’t need to see that either, Issac joked as he pushed them apart. It still amused Courtney to no end every time he said either. It sounded more like eye-thu due to his slight British accent he’d inherited from his mother’s side. He had taken off his coat and she saw that he was wearing a white long sleeved button-down, although the sleeves were rolled up, the top three buttons were undone, and a grey tie hung loosely around his neck. His casual look was topped off by his untucked shirt.

At that moment Rebecca walked into the room, making a smile flash across his face. He hadn’t seen Rebecca in four months, both of them having been busy with school.

Now Courtney was able to see what Rebecca had done when she’d rushed out of the kitchen so suddenly. She had pulled on some jeans and her favorite navy blue sweater, quickly thrown on some blush, and had attempted to tame her wavy brown hair in a French braid. Not her best look, but she was comfy and in a heck of a better state than her sister.

Hey, stranger, Rebecca said as she walked over and gave Issac a warm embrace, which he gratefully returned. It’s been a while.

He looked down at her, still beaming. It has. I’m glad we could come. I missed your lovely face, he said as he gently touched her cheek melodramatically with his hand. How was the drive home? he asked in a more normal voice.

Not too bad. We didn’t have any problems. Well, she added with an afterthought, except one.

And what might that have been? he inquired.

I had to listen to Courtney go on and on and on about how much she hated her Gen. Ed. classes. She winked at Courtney.

Hey! I only said I hated Chemistry, thanks, and you were complaining too! she retorted.

I was, was I? About what?

About how you didn’t know what you were going to wear the next time you saw lover boy over there. But I guess you figured that out.

Courtney saw Rebecca’s cheeks suddenly flush pink.

You’d think with age, she’d mature a little bit and learn not to tease her elders, Issac mocked with an air of superiority, his accent coming out thicker to emphasize his point.

I know what you mean, Rebecca said, shaking her head in disapproval. I mean, she’s still running around the house in her pajamas with a towel on her head and it’s almost noon. How childish, Courtney. Go make yourself presentable.

Wow, you guys, was all she had to say in reply before she turned and stalked off to her room.

She’s such a drama queen, she heard Rebecca chuckle to herself.

When Courtney re-entered the dining room in some clothes and her hair in a side braid, she saw that George had made a dozen more pancakes and two more batches of bacon while they’d all been talking at the door. Good morning, boys, he said cheerfully as they all walked in. He took the plate of bacon over and placed it on the table.

Morning, Mr. Marks. That sure is a lot of food. Are you expecting a small army or something? Michael questioned sarcastically.

Well, I was going to offer some to you and your brother, but if you would like me to save it for an army, I can easily do that, too, George said grinning.

"Oh, no! I will gladly eat this food for you. I didn’t have much breakfast this morning, and you always make the best pancakes," Michael added quickly.

Well, I guess I can spare some. You hungry, Issac?

A little bit, he said as he looked longingly at the plate of bacon.

Help yourself. I always make plenty extra.

Issac and Michael both piled their plates with pancakes, bacon, and eggs. All of which were slathered in syrup.

I swear, Courtney said, all you boys care about is food. She rumpled Michael’s hair as she sat down in the chair next to him.

Not true! If we didn’t care about you two, we wouldn’t be here, Issac pointed out through a mouthful of pancake.

Even if my dad invited you over for barbeque wings? Rebecca asked coyly.

Oh. That’s a tough one, Michael said.

Uhh! said Courtney as she punched him in the arm.

Hey! I’m sorry! I was kidding, I promise, he said as he laughed at the fake pout on Courtney’s face.

So, what’s on the agenda for today? Issac asked no one in particular.

Christmas decorations. Dad’s slacking a little this year, so we decided to call for some backup, Rebecca said.

Psst. Here’s a hint, Courtney whispered. You’re our backup.

I think we got that, thanks, Michael said as he winked.

Well, why are we still sitting here? Let’s get to decorating, Issac suggested.

Wait, Michael said as he piled more pancakes and bacon on his plate. Let me just finish this.

While Michael was eating his breakfast, Rebecca decided to get to work, and she and Issac walked to the hallway where the ladder to the attic was. She pulled on the string and slowly let the stairs down. I’ll be right back, she said. I’m going to go get a flashlight. When she got back, though, Issac was nowhere to be seen. It was pitch black up in the attic, and a cold that chilled her to the bone hung in the air. Issac! Where’d you go? she called as she shone the soft beam of light in front of her and popped her head up through the attic’s hatch. I-i-saac…

Suddenly she felt something light tickle the back of her neck. She froze and then quickly swung around, accidentally hitting someone in the side of the head with the flashlight.

Ouch! Hey, watch where you’re swingin’ that thing! Issac chuckled as he massaged his temple.

"Don’t… scare me like that!" she breathed heavily and climbed the rest of the way. She stood in front of him with her arms crossed, but she was trying not to smile.

Me? Scarring you? Don’t be ridiculous! Why would I ever do something like that? He moved closer to her as he lowered his voice. She had missed him so much. She could only tolerate late night phone calls and texts in the morning for so long. Scaring you isn’t nearly as much fun,