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  Maeva

  The Third Sign of Alchemy Novel

  by

  Robert W. Oliver II

  The Sign of Alchemy Series, Book 3.

  Maeva Copyright © 2020 by Robert W. Oliver II.

  All Rights Reserved.

  No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever, including internet usage, without written permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotes in critical reviews.

  FIRST EDITION

  Library of Congress Cataloging Data

  ISBN:

  Edited by Carla Rossi

  Robert W. Oliver II

  Cider Grove Media

  a division of OCS Solutions, Inc.

  PO Box 3355

  Florence, AL 35630

  To contact the author or learn more about The Sign of Alchemy, please visit his website at www.jeweledwoods.com.

  Dedicated to all the healthcare workers

  first responders, and the people who keep us fed, clothed,

  and fully stocked with essentials during these trying times.

  Chapter 1

  The brilliant sunrise spilled across the bright blue sky. Morgan’s hazel eyes soaked in the stunning beauty of the harbor, a rarity in the smoke-filled city of Steelcove. She stood on deck of the flagship, watching the sailors scurry about with last minute preparations.

  She turned to her companion. “This weather is a good omen.”

  He grunted.

  “Too bad you don’t believe in such things.”

  “It won’t matter,” he snarled. “The prime minister won’t let us launch today.”

  “Soon.” She pointed to the heavens. “Not even the slightest hint of a cloud. This good sailing weather will hold.”

  He pointed to the large smokestacks behind them. “The steam engines care not which way the winds blow. Relying on mother nature… or, any woman for that matter…”

  She looked him directly in the eye. “That talk might go over well with your crew, Captain, but not with me.” She adjusted a sleeve on her long, dark green dress. “You sometimes forget you are in the company of a lady.”

  He chuckled. “How could I forget?”

  She grinned as the commander scolded a young lieutenant over some trivial matter. “He’s a sharp one.”

  “Has to be. I’ve a ship full of lazy kids.” He yelled to the commander. “Any word from the capital?”

  The commander shook his head.

  “I told you not to get your hopes up, Morgan.”

  “I am a patient woman.” She pointed at him. “But you are an impatient man. I am not owning your shortcomings.”

  “You have the con,” he said to the commander. “I’ll be in my quarters.”

  She waited a moment, the followed him.

  He stood at the mirror next to his bed and ran a finger over the large scar across his face. She walked up behind him and put her arm on his shoulder.

  He snarled. “Those superstitious savages…”

  “You will get your revenge,” she said.

  He flew into a sudden rage, knocking a bottle of gin on the floor. “Not soon enough! I’d love to get my hands around that little jerk. He’s not old enough to shave, let alone be our leader!”

  She grabbed him and turned his gaze to her. He started to protest, but her gentle persuasion quickly won him over.

  “This rage will serve you well, but not here. Not now. Save it for Selandis.”

  She slipped off his jacket and loosened the buttons on his shirt. She pointed to the bed. “Sit down.”

  He did as she asked. She sat next to him, ignoring the smell of boozy juniper berries now permeating the room.

  “You like it when I tell you stories. That calms you down, doesn’t it?”

  He nodded.

  She mentally thumbed through her assortment of tales to find one she hadn’t told. She enjoyed recalling her journeys and adventures in other realms. Replaying the narrative in her mind and relaying that to him proved an easy way to relieve the excitement of her younger days.

  She pulled her necklace from under her dress and dangled the brilliant yellow stone in front of him. “I never told you about the time I lost the other half of this, did I?”

  “No.”

  “It’s not a pleasant story. But it’s an appropriate time. You see, just over—oh my, two decades ago—hasn’t time flown by… I had an unpleasant encounter with an ambitious young sorceress. She and I were looking for the same artifacts—the Creation Amulets. Have you ever heard of them?”

  He shook his head. “Never.”

  “Even the mystical Selandis folk consider them a fairy tale. Well, I assure you, they are quite real. That young sorceress knew too. I found all three of them before her. The Amulet of Shadow, the Amulet of Light, and the Amulet of Balance. But she caught me.”

  “We had a tremendous fight. Nearly killed each other. I was stronger, but she had better training. She managed to steal the Amulet of Balance and the Amulet of Shadow from me.” She held the glowing yellow stone in her hand. “I managed to save the Amulet of Light from her vile clutches. But… I lost something far dearer to me.”

  “What could be more important?” he asked.

  “My daughter,” she replied. “She was just a young child when that wench had me imprisoned on concocted theft charges. I spent three years in prison, and upon my release, I searched for her. Eventually, I learned she had been adopted to a better home.”

  He lowered his gaze. “I am sorry to hear.”

  “So, you see, I have a lot invested in this journey as well, my dear. I want my daughter. And I want the amulets.”

  “I will make it happen,” he said.

  She smiled. “Oh, I know you will. And you won’t even realize you are doing it, either.” She put her hand on his cheek and intensified her stare. “You see, dear, I have a lot riding on this. As with all our stories, you won’t remember this one.”

  “Please, Morgan, let me remember. Just this once. I can help you.”

  She took his rough hands in hers. “You will Cadrin, I assure you. We will find my daughter. And as for Maeva… She will pay.”

  Chapter 2

  Adrious sat by the fireplace and read a book from Kytis’s vast esoteric collection. By now, this was a regular after-work routine, but only a few months ago he would have shuddered at the thought of even stepping foot in this mysterious mausoleum. His mother, Mauria, inherited the mansion and all Kytis’s property after his death, so he stayed in the home while Mauria visited Niv’leana and Shareis.

  The gentle rain on the roof and the crackle of the fire provided a perfect backdrop for the deep subject matter that saturated the pages of the old manuscript in his hands. Like many ancient books, the author related the wisdom through a story encoded with parables. Nearly every volume in Kytis’s library sparked some philosophical or magical quandary in his mind. Despite the former owner’s vile nature, he sometimes wished the man could provide greater explanation for some of his titles.

  Everyone would agree Kytis proved to be a terrible person, but his one virtue, at least in Adrious’s eyes, was the steadfast dedication he showed his mother. He had ample opportunity to hire someone far more capable for the job, yet he made every allowance for Mauria’s weakened physical strength and agility. He never complained when she was slow with dinner, nor showed any frustration in how long it took her to climb the stairs with his evening tea. His mother thankfully escaped the ill he had visited upon the world.

  Just as he finished the last page, someone knocked on the door. He yelled for them to wait a moment and then hurriedly read the last few words before attending to his guest. The town healer stood in the rain.

  He quickly motioned inside. “Come in, Aja.”

  Her thin frame
eased through the open door. “Something’s wrong, Adrious.”

  She stood dripping in the foyer. He took her cloak and escorted her to the couch, then grabbed the teapot and put it near the fire. “This tea isn’t that cold. Should warm up in a moment.”

  “I don’t think we have the time,” Aja said.

  “What is it?”

  “I told you—something is wrong.”

  “We’ve established that,” he said.

  Aja licked her lips. “I may be going crazy.”

  He took the teapot and poured her a cup. “Nothing tea won’t cure.”

  “I’m serious Adrious. I had a dream.”

  He waited for her to provide more detail. “Alright—And in that dream…”

  Her blue eyes widened. “The entire continent was on fire!”

  “Apocalyptic,” he said. “But I can tell by the way your leg is twitching this was no typical nightmare.”

  She immediately held her bouncing leg. “Wasn’t a nightmare at all. No—this was a vision.”

  He leaned closer. “Tell me more.”

  “Large horses, made of cold gray metal, roared through the Jeweled Woods. The colorful, gigantic trees burned, and their ashes fell like tears onto the ruined soil.”

  “I hope this is no vision,” he said. “My mother is there now.”

  “She is? You didn’t tell me.”

  “I’m sorry. Our conversations rarely drift from our work collaborations.”

  She frowned. “That’s my fault.” She looked around the room. “How is your private life?” she asked with an awkward smile.

  “We can talk about that later,” he said. “Continue with your vision.”

  She took a sip of tea. “Fair enough. Well, the fire didn’t stop at the woods. It continued through the plains, spread by these dark horses. The grass was seared, and the grapes burst from the heat before the flames withered their vines.”

  She had his undivided attention. “The grapes… burst?”

  “Strangest thing I ever saw,” Aja replied. “I don’t know why they didn’t burn.” She tilted her head. “I wonder if exploded grape juice would be any good?”

  “Tell me, Aja—did you see people in your vision?”

  “Yes. A few. They ran screaming from the horses, but their screams were silent.”

  He nearly dropped his tea. “Grapes bursting, silent screams…”

  “Pretty strange, huh?”

  “Anything else?” he asked.

  She thought a moment. “Yes. I saw an owl flying above the chaos. It had the most intense golden eyes I’d ever seen.”

  He downed the rest of his tea, then fetched a paper from his pack lying next to him on the couch.

  “Metal frames will march through the woods, shooting flames that scatter wildlife, burn grasslands, and burst grapes fresh on the vine. The people will run screaming, their voices unheard, and their feet know not where to carry them. The sky will choke with ash, the sun will dim, and the moonlight will offer its light no more upon the landscape.”

  “A thundering voice from a deranged woman will echo across the land. Her hair blond as wheat, her eyes blue as glass, and her jaw firm as the most determined leader. A sailor betrayed by its whisper; the voice cast a spell with its force. On the wind, it will proclaim…”

  “The sacrifice is at hand,” Aja whispered.

  His heart skipped a beat. “Oh, my stars.”

  “What?” she asked.

  He looked at the paper. “You couldn’t have known. I only finished this translation last week.”

  “Those old moldy tablets?”

  “Yes.”

  “Wow…”

  He tapped his finger against his teacup sitting on the end table. “Are you free, Aja?”

  “No, I charge, silly. You know that. But I’m always willing to take nearly anything in trade.”

  He sighed. “Are you available?”

  She shrugged. “Nearly always.”

  “Free for a week or two?”

  She hesitated.

  “I need your services, Aja. There is no one else that comes close to your level of clairvoyance and mediumship, save the High Priestess herself.”

  “Why thank you, Adrious.”

  He stood and extended his hand. “Come with me. We’re headed to the Jeweled Woods.”

  Chapter 3

  The left wheel fell into a mudhole, sending a violent shock throughout the wagon. Shareis’s fingernails dug into the wooden seat as she came to an abrupt stop. She flung the reigns in frustration and hopped off the wagon. A quick glance at the mudhole gripping the wheel told her everything she needed to know.

  She would not be getting married today.

  Sheets of rain flooded the road between her and her bride. At least a half-hour walk through miserable weather separated them. She fetched her pack from the wagon and set out marching to Brenloh.

  “Need help?”

  A woman in a heavy cloak stood next to the wagon.

  She approached her. “I appreciate it, but I don’t think it will budge.”

  The stranger grabbed the frame behind the submerged wheel. “We should try.”

  She tried to catch a glimpse of the woman’s features, but her cloak made it difficult. “Alright.”

  She pulled with all her might. After an intense struggle, they were able to lift the wheel. Shareis grabbed the reigns and steered the wagon away from the hole.

  “Thank you,” she said. “I’m headed to Brenloh. You want a ride?”

  “Yes, please.”

  The woman climbed aboard and the two proceeded into town.

  Small talk wasn’t her specialty, but she figured it would be rude to remain silent. “Are you from here?”

  “No.”

  She considered asking more, but she got the distinct impression her passenger valued her privacy. No matter. She abhorred forced conversation.

  Soon, they reached the center of Brenloh. She stopped the wagon in the middle of town. “We’re here.”

  “I can walk the rest of the way.”

  “I thought this was your destination.”

  “No, I’m headed to a nearby farm.”

  “So am I,” she said. “Are you headed to Ren and Cherin’s place?”

  The woman shrugged. “I’m not sure. I’ll know it when I see it.”

  They continued down the road, passing numerous farmhouses and crossing a swollen creek. She expected her to have her stop, but she remained silent until they neared Niv’s farm.

  “You’re here for the wedding. Or what’s left of it.”

  “What do you mean?”

  She motioned to the sky. “It’s raining, I’m soaked, and I’m sure the guests have taken off.”

  They rode down the dirt path and stopped behind a long line of wagons parked on the roadside. The rain eased, and a heavy mist hung in the air.

  “Looks like they’re still here.” She applied the brake and jumped from the wagon. “But Niv has probably given up on me.”

  Shareis stood in the middle of the road and stared at Niv’s home in the distance. A red-headed woman, presumably Frasie, paced behind a nervous-looking older man.

  “I look like a wreck,” she said.

  The stranger stood in front of her and ran her fingers through her hair. “You look fine.”

  She thought it odd someone she didn’t know would be adjusting her hair. “Are you a friend of Niv’s or her parents?”

  “I am here to see my daughter wed the High Priestess.”

  “There must be some mistake,” she said. “My mother, Mauria, is with Niv and her family.”

  The woman lowered her cloak.

  “No, Shareis. It’s me. Lilly.”

  Chapter 4

  Frasie rubbed her forehead in frustration, then sat on the edge of the bed. Nivvy rocked silently in her beautiful white, full-length bridal gown, interrupted only by a loud crack of thunder. The floors of her best friend’s childhood home creaked as Ren and Cherin, Nivvy’s
adopted parents, paced new ruts in the floors.

  She pointed at Nivvy. “You stay here. I’ll check on things.”

  Outside, under the canopy erected for guests, Ren tried to reassure them to wait a bit longer. One left, but the others granted a brief reprieve. Ren came inside and stared out the window.

  “It’s the rain, you know,” he said.

  “She’s being careful,” she said. “Might take longer, but she’ll be here.”

  Cherin tried to console Ren. “If Niv sees us worrying…”

  Nivvy’s heels clicked on the wood floor behind them. “I know you’re worried. I’m worried too.”

  She ran to Nivvy and put her arm around her, mindful not to disturb her intricate braids and crown of flowers. “Like I told them, she’ll be here.”

  Nivvy walked to the window. “I hate that she’s stuck in this mess.” Nivvy turned to them, her eyes filled with fear. “What if her wagon washed away in the creek?”

  She grabbed Nivvy’s shoulders. “Shareis is good with horses. Have you ever known a little water to stop her?” Her words seemed to do little to soothe her friend. “How about I go look for her?”

  “Alright,” Nivvy said. “Be careful.”

  She charged out the door, gathered the skirt to her bridesmaid’s dress, and charged into the misty rain. She ran past the guests and proceeded down the road until she saw Shareis and a woman talking at the edge of the farm.

  “Shareis! We’ve been worried sick about you! Well, Nivvy was, and Cherin. And Ren. But I wasn’t, because I knew you were alright.”

  Shareis pointed to the wagon. “I was stuck, but my…”

  The woman shook her head.

  Shareis sighed. “My new friend—this kind stranger, helped free me.”

  She smiled. “Thanks! You may have just saved a marriage.”

  “Has Niv given up on me?”

  “Don’t be silly, Shareis.” She motioned toward the house. “But you need to get to the altar. Now!”

  Shareis paused. “Did Mae come?”

  She hung her head. “No.”

  “Her choice,” Shareis said. “But Niv…”

  She extended her hand. “Better hurry.”

  Shareis and Frasie walked to the altar, while the helpful guest took a seat.