Mark of Four Page 35

  Daymon stared at her, his eyebrows low across his forehead. After a moment, he stood and flung the towel over his shoulder. “Let that be a lesson to you then.” He brushed by her. “Don’t get so bitter about your boyfriend’s death that you lose your friends.”

  He strode off, weaving his way between the exercise machines.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Alayne called.

  “Exactly what it sounds like.” He left the room.

  * * *

  Jayme’s memorial service was held the day Alayne’s parents arrived to pick her up. Alayne buried her face in her mother’s shoulder as soon as she saw her and cried for a long time. When they pulled apart, the tension and anger and bitterness between them had abated. A sense of awkwardness replaced it, but it was a step in the right direction.

  The whole school walked out to a field east of the spire where the faculty had set up the grave site. Two weeping willows stood on either side of a stone grave marker, their drooping branches brushing the huge slab. The High Court had sent Earth-Movers to investigate the area where the mountain ridge had been, searching for clues of Malachi’s escape. They’d brought back an urn filled with ashes. Horror had flooded Alayne as Sprynge had called her privately to his office to show it to her.

  “M—May I see?” she had asked, her voice as broken as she'd felt.

  Sprynge had shaken his head regretfully. “It's already sealed, Alayne. Perhaps it's for the best. You'll want to remember him as he was.”

  Alayne had broken down into sobs.”

  She had asked Professor Grace, Jayme’s favorite, to say the words for the service. The petite professor had agreed.

  “Sometimes,” Grace’s clear voice carried over the crowd, “life isn’t celebrated properly. Sometimes people go unnoticed for the things that they do. Sometimes, the appreciation comes too little and too late. Perhaps Jayme Cross never knew quite what he meant to those around him. But we know that he was a valuable part of our lives, and that his presence will continue to be a part of our lives, and we cannot and will not forget it. His influence, his good will, his easygoing attitude will live on in our memories, even though his body is no longer with us.”

  Alayne couldn’t hear the rest. Her ears were buzzing. Kyle stood on one side of her and Marysa on the other. Both held a hand, squeezing it as her tears ran unchecked down her cheeks and dripped into the prairie grasses. Alayne felt her father’s hand on her shoulder, and her mother’s on the small of her back.

  She was surrounded by people she loved who loved her. She would cry today, and probably tomorrow and the next day. But the time would come, soon, she hoped, when she could put the tears behind her and focus on living again.

  * * *

  Marysa hugged Alayne tightly and stepped back, eyeing her friend seriously. “We’ve still got some things we need to think about.”

  Alayne raised an eyebrow. “Such as?”

  “Malachi’s still out there, and now the entire world knows you’re a Quadriweave. Secrecy was your best protection, and now—”

  “Now Daymon’s gonna work twice as hard to keep me safe.” It was a lame attempt at lightening a serious situation.

  “Daymon’s going to have his hands full for sure. And Manders. And any other Guardians lurking about the school.”

  “They’ll have help from the Continental Guard and everything.”

  “The most important protection for Alayne is Alayne,” Marysa argued.

  “I know.” Alayne’s mind jumped in the same tired circles of thought she’d processed since her talk with Manders, Daymon, and Marysa after the battle with Malachi and the fire-walkers. “And of course, we have Manders’s assumption that there’s a Shadow-Caster on the inside.” She glanced at Bryan and Wynn where they stood on the edge of the shuttle platform, talking quietly. “Don’t tell my parents, though. If they knew half of what happened this year, they’d never let me come back. We’ll just have to keep our eyes open.”

  “At least now you know what a good guardian you have in Daymon.” Marysa grinned. “I’m so glad he’s turning out nice; it seemed like such a waste to put all those good looks with such a horribly atrocious guy.” She laughed and winked. “I’ll see you back at Skyden.” She squeezed Alayne’s hand. “We’ll get together lots this summer after I get back from the east coast.” She waved as she hopped in the shuttle.

  Bryan approached with Wynn and put his arm around Alayne’s neck, tugging her close. “It’s good she’ll be around for you.”

  “Three weeks, Dad,” Alayne said. “She’s heading to the coast first.”

  “Those three weeks will fly by before you know it.”

  “Yeah.” Alayne sighed heavily. “I know.

  “I think Kyle wants to say goodbye,” Wynn interjected, nodding as the boy moved toward them. Her mother tugged Bryan away again, leaving Alayne to turn awkwardly to Kyle.

  “Sorry,” Alayne muttered. “They can be weird sometimes.”

  He shrugged as he stood with his hands in his jean pockets, smiling shyly at her. “I guess this is it for the summer, huh?”

  “Do you want to write?” Alayne shaded her eyes against the brilliant glare of the sun.

  “I promise.” He sighed and pulled her into a tight hug, his hand gently cradling the back of her head. “I think about him a lot, too, Layne. I’m sorrier than I can say.”

  Alayne pressed her face into his shoulder, the tears his words brought soaking big dark splotches into his shirt.

  “And I’m sorry, too, for the conversation we had just before exams.” He sighed and laid his cheek on top of her head. “I was being an idiot.”

  Alayne sniffed and pulled back to look him in the eye. “No, I was being completely unreasonable. I was buried in a well of pain, and I couldn’t see all the things others were doing to help find Marysa.”

  Kyle shook his head. “You weren’t being unreasonable at all. I would have done the same.” He cleared his throat and glanced awkwardly at the ground. “And the second part of that conversation...”

  Heat crept into Alayne’s cheeks. “Don’t worry about it.”

  Kyle shrugged. “I won’t. I’m probably a glutton for punishment anyway—I couldn’t stand to be away from you.”

  Alayne stared into his blue eyes. Fragments of a million thoughts flew to and fro in her mind.

  A corner of Kyle’s mouth lifted into a half-grin. “But that’s a conversation for another day, Layne.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and gave her braid a tug. “I’ll see you in the fall, okay?”

  He dropped a kiss on her forehead and turned away.

  Bryan cleared his throat behind Alayne. She faced her parents and took a deep breath. “Let’s get one thing straight,” Alayne said. “You don’t treat me like glass this summer. I’m going to get over this, and the best way to do that is to treat me like you normally do, okay? No babying.”

  Wynn’s face paled. Bryan’s hand squeezed her shoulder, and she nodded. “We won’t baby you, Alayne. I—I admit that I’ve allowed my fears to shadow your life, but ... I’m going to try to allow you the freedom to grow into the woman I know is blossoming inside.” A smile trembled on her lips, and she stepped forward, pulling her daughter into a hug. “You’re stronger than we ever knew, Layne.” She swiftly kissed Alayne’s cheek and stepped back. “Let’s go home.”

  Meanwhile…

  A world of hurt and pain moved through his limbs. Darkness coated the air around him; cold, hard dirt and rocks dug into his back. Somewhere nearby, water trickled or flowed, he couldn’t tell which.

  His chest had turned numb, and slowly, as interminable time passed, the numbness radiated outward. He couldn’t move; the dead lumps he called limbs lay like so much baggage on the earth’s floor. He wondered fleetingly how long it would take to die.

  Her face flashed across his vision. The terror, the paralyzing agony that etched through her eyes as she’d seen him fall seared itself into his brain. A tear slid from beneath one eyel
id. It traced across his cheek, rolling in starts and stops toward his ear, where it joined the curves of his flesh before settling to a halt.

  He tried to pull the elements into his fingers, tried to work them as he had done before, but the numbness had deadened him. The air elements floated through his grip like water through a sieve, and bit by bit what little hope he had ebbed away.

  He lost track of time. It could have been minutes or days that he lay in the cold dirt, staring at the point of light off to his right.

  When the light strengthened and illuminated the cavern in which he was trapped, amazement sharpened his senses. So there really was a world beyond this one after all. Huh. Life after death. He wondered what he would find in it.

  A shadow fell over his face. He lifted his gaze, confusion coursing through his brain, panic following immediately after. He struggled to move, to escape.

  But the clear voice laughed softly at his efforts. “Shadow-Cast him,” it commanded in liquid tones.

  Prison bars slammed shut over his mind.

  A Message from the Author

  Thank You for Reading

  What did you think of Mark of Four?

  I would so appreciate it if you would leave a review for this book at Amazon or Goodreads. Word-of-mouth is still the best way for indie authors to gain readers, and the online version of word-of-mouth is reviews.

  Thanks so much!

  Acknowledgments

  This book passed through so many metamorphoses that I hardly remember what story I had originally intended. With each new draft, though, it improved exponentially, and I've fallen in love with Alayne's world and the characters interspersed throughout. I hope you enjoy them as well!

  Beta (test) readers are like the midwives of the book world. Any time a book is born, those readers test the material, sliding it into position for publication, massaging it here, nudging it there, smoothing the path, coaching and encouraging, giving hugs and advice. Those readers are there to polish the final product. They're nearly as essential as the parents to the birth of the book baby, and this proud mama couldn't be more thankful for them.

  So to the many readers who have read this book in its multiple stages of development, thank you from the bottom of my heart. Members of the Shenandoah Valley Writers and the Shenandoah Christian Writers, Flashdogs, and friends who love to read, thanks for your hours of gentle critique.

  To my editor, Emily June Street, you hear from me a lot that you're the best editor ever, but I speak the simple truth. Thank you so much. I hardly remember writing before you were there to edit.

  To my family, who so generously allows me to stare at my laptop for hours on end, and who actually enjoys my books when they come out, I couldn't do any of this without you. To my husband, Tim, thank you for your patience, understanding, and unconditional love and support.

  And to the One who has blessed me with an overly abundant imagination, I am eternally grateful.

  About the Author

  Tamara Shoemaker lives in the Shenandoah Valley of Virginia with her husband, three children, a few jars of Nutella, and a never-empty carafe of coffee. She authored the best-selling Shadows in the Nursery Christian mystery series and Soul Survivor, another Christian mystery. Her fantasy books include the beginning of the Heart of the Dragon trilogy: Kindle the Flame, as well as the upcoming Guardian of the Vale trilogy.

  @TamaraShoemaker

  tshoebooks

  www.tamarashoemaker.org.

  Also by Tamara Shoemaker

  Heart of a Dragon Series:

  Kindle the Flame

  Shadows in the Nursery Series:

  Broken Crowns

  Pretty Little Maids

  Ashes, Ashes

  Soul Survivor

  Copyright © 2015 Tamara Shoemaker

  All rights reserved

  No part of this book may be reproduced or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. This is a work of fiction.

  Cover design by SelfPubBookCovers.com/rgporter

  Book design, glyph illustration, and book production by Emily June Street at Luminous Creatures Press.