Isabel

  Isabel

  An Avant Champion Novelette

  CB Samet

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  AC Rising Sample

  Enjoy The Avant Champion series

  C. B. Samet

  Isabel published by CB Samet

  www.cbsamet.com

  * * *

  © 2020 Novels by CB Samet

  All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without permission from the publisher, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law. For permissions contact:

  cbsamet@cbsamet.com

  * * *

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Created with Vellum

  Chapter 1

  The ink hadn’t yet dried on the Crithian Declaration when my next migraine struck.

  I drank an elixir of coca leaves, willow bark, and citrus lemon. After a long gulp of water from the basin, I leaned on the oak tabletop to steady myself. I could suppress the headache with medication, but I couldn’t ignore that my body was trying to tell me something. I needed a quiet moment to absorb whatever vision was attempting to emerge.

  A small figure dropped from the candle chandelier onto the tabletop. “You don’t look so good, my queen.”

  The brownie’s high-pitched voice did nothing to alleviate my throbbing temples.

  “Migraine,” I told him.

  Snake Eyes adjusted the green snake head hat upon his head. “But it’s your big day. Queen Isabel Dallik unites the continent.” He spread his arms melodramatically in the air. “Decades in the making.”

  Five years, actually. But I wouldn’t correct him.

  “I’ve only an hour before the celebration. I’m trying to collect myself.”

  Snake Eyes nodded as he ran tiny fingers over the silver handle of the mirror lying next to the water basin. When I cleared my throat, the little brownie withdrew his fondling phalanges with a meek smile.

  I arched an eyebrow at him. “I know you swiped a ring from the Duchess of Ntajid during the signing of the declaration.”

  Snake Eyes’s stealth and sticky fingers, combined with his affinity for shiny objects, made him an impossible traveling companion.

  “You need to return it,” I added.

  His usual route would be to sneak into his victims’ chambers in the middle of the night to replace stolen objects. I was always amazed at the many places a creature no taller than the length of a man’s foot could access.

  Snake Eyes scuffed his feet on the table surface looking like a scorned toddler. I suppressed a grin. My small companion was a mischief-maker, but he was also loyal and compassionate. I understood why my son, Malakai, had maintained a friendship with him—when my son had been alive.

  “After the ceremony, are we going to visit Orrick?” Snake Eyes asked.

  “Not directly after, but, yes, I would like to see my son.”

  Orrick was the oldest of my two boys—and the most stubborn. In a fit of rage five years ago, I cast him into the Black Marsh Forest as a mighty oak to give him time for reflection.

  “Did you really turn him into a tree?”

  I brushed at my long, brown hair before attempting to braid it. “I did. I probably overreacted, but I don’t think I’m meant to reverse the spell. I think Malakai will need Orrick in the future.”

  “I miss Mal.” Snake Eyes’s voice sunk into a pit of melancholy.

  “I miss him too.” My stomach knotted.

  With thoughts of Malakai at the forefront of my mind, a vision hit me like a tidal wave. Bright, white light seared my eyes as my body went horizontal.

  * * *

  When the images from the future finished their onslaught, I blinked my eyes open, unsure of how much time had passed. “Charles?”

  The royal physician gave me a strained smile. “That seemed like a rough one.”

  Snake Eyes stood on the nightstand, working his expression in an attempt to match the physician’s intense concern.

  “Oh! What time is it?” My head throbbed as I pushed myself up into a sitting position in the bed.

  “Easy, my queen.” Charles placed a gentle hand on my shoulder. “You still have time to make your celebration.”

  Five years had culminated in a tranquil continental unity under one ruler with the hope of everlasting peace. But my vision had just robbed me of reveling in any sense of success I might have enjoyed.

  The future held apocalyptic devastation, and it was all my fault.

  I entered the great hall of Marrington Castle, where the room was bursting in glorious splendor. Royals wore glistening gowns and sateen suits with bright, cheery faces. Late afternoon sun streamed through spotless windows on one side. The marble floor had been polished to a shine.

  My headache had subsided, giving me just enough time to make myself presentable for the gathering.

  During the signing of the Crithian Declaration, twenty-six kings and queens had agreed to consolidate their leadership under a single ruler—a queen selected not by her lineage but by divination through the Leadership Stone. A wise and just representative had been chosen through the expertise of magic, not mankind with his politics, favoritism, and nepotism.

  One unifying leader had been chosen by the magical stone—and it wasn’t me. I’d recused myself from being a contestant under the auspices that, as a sorceress, I could activate any Che magical stone; so my validity, if chosen, would be suspect. While this was true of my powers, my real motive was that I wanted to be finished with leadership.

  Achieving world peace had cost me everything. I wanted nothing more than a quiet existence somewhere remote.

  In a flurry of applause, I bowed before the new queen as she sat on a throne of lacquered cypress wood. She smiled, a nervous excitement lighting her eyes. Although young, she would do well as queen. She had a host of advisors all vested in making the unity of the continent a success.

  As I knelt before her, the physical surrendering of my royal status felt like a weight being lifted from my back. Except that instead of the freedom I’d so anticipated, a new burden settled between my shoulder blades—the burden of the future as foretold by my vision.

  I stood and then exited the stage while the procession of Crithian rulers, forsaking their claim to royalty, trailed behind me.

  * * *

  As the evening unfolded I sipped on a glass of wine, mingling and graciously accepting the praise and gratitude of dozens of people. I was humbled by their appreciation, but none of these acquaintances knew the spells I’d woven or the sacrifices I’d made in order to secure peace.

  I passed on a plate of food with a slight tilt of my head as a server strode toward me. Reading my subtle signal, he diverted to another group of people.

  “You seem melancholy for one who should be basking in glory. Victor’s remorse?”

  I turned to see Charles Starling standing before me. He wore a black tailored suit with blue trim that matched his eyes.

  I gave him a warm smile.

  “The vision?” he asked.

  I nodded.

  He plucked the wineglass from my hand, dropped it on a passing waiter’s tray, and whisked me to the dance floor.

  “Tell me about it while we dance.”

  I glanced around at onlookers. “Charles, I’m not sure this is wise.” We’d never danced in public. I was a queen and he was a healer. The class difference made an intimate association scandalous.

  “Not wise for royalty and a lowly healer, but you’re not royalty anymore.”


  I brightened though I didn’t care for him calling himself a ‘lowly healer.’ “Right you are.” I’d become accustomed to our encounters being nothing more than stolen glances and rare moments alone to hold hands. We’d talked about the prospect of being together once the Crithian Declaration was signed, but I’d momentarily forgotten that in the flurry of castle activity.

  I relaxed into the waltz.

  “Your vision?” he prompted.

  I stiffened once more. My vision could ruin the life I’d imagined with Charles before it had even begun. “I thought my magic would fix the world, but the cure is only temporary.”

  “How temporary?” His voice betrayed his own worry.

  I offered a reassuring smile. “Visions of the future don’t come with dates stamped on them, but if I had to guess—thousands of years.”

  “Ah, so we have time then.” His eyes sparkled as the handsome crow’s feet crinkled.

  “I need to figure out some type of counterspell.”

  “How so?”

  I launched into an explanation, keeping my voice low so as not to be heard by other dancers. “Okay. We devised the current spell to use the power of seven Che stones combined to absorb mankind’s evil. Not all of it, but enough that children from today’s generation will never see war for a hundred years like we just endured.”

  Charles knew this because he helped me engineer the spell. Spells of that magnitude had to be carefully designed and constructed, like building a suspension bridge.

  Charles nodded. “Yes, and Malakai volunteered to be the vessel to contain the evil.”

  Mal had volunteered, but only because he’d been poisoned by an assassin and was dying. His options had been to let the poison finish him or let evil inhabit him when the spell was cast. He had become Malos, a being without tangible form, a vessel slowly filling with evil.

  I continued, “I knew there was a risk—a risk that when evil accumulated too much, Malos would have the power to take physical form and cause war.”

  “But that was a risk you were willing to take. What changed?”

  “My vision showed me that Malos will become so powerful, he would have the power to dominate Crithos . . . maybe even the world.”

  “Hence the counterspell you want to conjure?”

  “Exactly.”

  “How can I help?”

  I blinked at Charles.

  He grinned. “Well, I don’t cast spells or activate Che stones, but I am at your service—queen or not. And if and when you no longer require my services, I hope you’ll keep my companionship.”

  I squeezed his hand as we moved in unison. “I do want your companionship.”

  His eyes looked from my eyes to my lips and back up again in a heated flash, suggesting he wanted to seal my statement with a kiss. But he knew better than to display affection in a public gathering.

  “What I need to solve the problem of my evil-possessed son causing an apocalypse is time. I need time with my spell books in my library.”

  “Wish granted. I’ll tell your tenants that your physician has ordered quiet reading time.”

  After two days of celebration over the Crithian Declaration, I returned home with my staff to my castle in Karnelik. I was still a leader even though I was no longer a queen. Charles managed to secure me the needed time alone.

  I spent the next three days in and out of the library, reading about spells and omens. When it all began to blur together, I locked myself in my room to meditate. Instead, I slipped into a deep dream—into a river, down the rapids into the mouth, and ending in the abyss of an ocean.

  Sleep offered little rest. I dreamed of all the family I’d lost—my husband, my sons. Four of my sons were lost in war. My husband was lost to his own arrogance. Two more of sons were lost at my hand. I’d sacrificed them to achieve peace. But they weren’t lost in the truest sense of the word. They had a greater purpose and a longevity they wouldn’t have otherwise had. Still, not a day passed where I didn’t wonder if I had made the wrong decision.

  And now, how did I keep Malos in check? How to keep the beast I’d created from ruling the world?

  A prophecy.

  Good to conquer evil.

  I bolted upright in bed, drenched in sweat. Moonlight from both moons spilled in through the window. “A champion.” I exhaled the words into the night air.

  I grabbed chalk from my nightstand and drew a circle on the floor. I opened the window before cocooning myself within the chalk circle, drawing power from the moonlight and pulling myself into a trance. I followed trails upon endless trails of possibilities. I needed to create a prophecy of a champion who would be summoned when Malos rose to conquer Crithos. He or she would need some magical power, which would be challenging, since magic was going to fade over time in the absence of war—in the absence of the necessity of it. Steps needed to be taken.

  Yes, champions with magic lineages. And magicians to find them. Gypsies. I could lay the groundwork for such things so that each time Malos’s power threatened to grow too powerful, a champion would rise to face him.

  Even then, the plan wasn’t flawless. The vision continued to reveal a volcano eruption. A hairline fracture in the stone. And yet, I could see a way, just barely—like threading the eye of a needle.

  * * *

  “Isabel? Mother Moon,” Charles swore. “What have you done to yourself?” His voice sounded distant.

  I could feel a blanket wrapped around me.

  “Leave us,” his voice demanded.

  A shuffle of feet was followed by the sound of doors closing.

  Strong arms wrapped around me, but I was still somewhere else, still ethereally floating in moonlight.

  “Isabel? Come back to me,” his soft, sweet voice beckoned me.

  I couldn’t recall the last time a man held me and spoke words of concern. I blinked my eyes open and smiled. “Charles.” I reached for him and drew his lips to mine.

  He jolted in surprise before relaxing into the kiss.

  As the kiss deepened, I felt like Charles was quenching a deep, dry drought within me. I had meant to only kiss him, but we fed off each other’s passion until we stripped bare and basked in the raw pleasure of each other.

  I collapsed beside him, deliciously spent.

  He pulled me against him, skin to skin, and tugged the covers around us.

  “You’re so beautiful.”

  I smiled. “How can you say such a thing after I’ve been up half the night in a trance?”

  “Because it’s true.” He shifted to hold me tighter. “You scared the staff when they found you unconscious and half-frozen on the floor this morning. When they summoned me, I was scared too. I was about to scold your reckless behavior, but then you woke and kissed me.”

  “And now here we are.” I wriggled closer.

  “Here we are. What changed your mind? To be clear, I’m not complaining. But we’ve never taken things as far as making love.”

  I sensed the worry in his tone—worry that we’d shared a night of intimacy and then would return to hiding a relationship, stealing occasional kisses and nothing more.

  “I wanted to act on what I wanted and not what the future dictated I do based on a complex series of events. I want to be together—you and me, Charles.”

  “Why the sudden change?”

  “Not so sudden. I’ve wanted to be with you for some time. Now that I’m no longer queen, I feel like a corset has been removed. I can breathe. I can indulge.”

  “I don’t mind being a thing you indulge in.” He grinned.

  Sweet indulgence. Soon, but not yet. “I know what I must do for my sons. Will you come with me on my quest?”

  “A quest? Sounds rather grandiose.” He twirled a strand of my hair around his fingers.

  “I need to speak with Norak.”

  “A dragon?”

  “In seven thousand years—give or take—Malos’s stone will be damaged. I can put in place a champion to keep his power in check every mil
lennium, but the damaged stone will cause man’s evil to no longer be stored. Evil will pollute mankind again.”

  “Seven thousand years from now?” Charles rubbed his chin. “I’m not sure you’re responsible for all of the world’s history going forward, Isabel.”

  “But I’ve seen a way to help my son and one of the champions restore the stone.”

  “I thought you said the champions keep Malos’s power in check. Are they working with him or against him?”

  “They are all against him. Until the seventh.”

  “The seventh champion?”

  “Yes. Something about her is different and they work together for a time, but as Malakai not Malos. For a time, with her, he is himself. Happy even, I think.” I shook my head. Visions were hard to interpret—snippets of the future, like speckled confetti cut from paper. You could see the color of the paper and the texture, but what it looked like whole was impossible to know.

  Charles rubbed tender fingers along my arm. “But he has to repair his own stone. How does he manage that? And what has any of this to do with needing a dragon?”

  “The stone can be recreated the same way we did. They need all seven stones. I can lay plans to help with that, but keeping the Fire Stone—the rarest type of Che stone—safe for seven thousand years is no small feat.”

  “Somehow a dragon is going to help with that? And that’s why you need to see Norak?”

  “Yes. Will you come with me? My last quest before retirement.”

  He chuckled. “Oh, I doubt it will be your last. You’re not an idle creature. But, yes. I’d follow you anywhere, Isabel. You may have relinquished your title, but you’ll always be my queen.”

  Chapter 2

  “Is that what you’re wearing?” Charles asked.