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Authors: Emma Raveling

Billow

BOOK: Billow
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Table of Contents

 

Title Page

Copyright Page

Note on Terminology

Dedication

Epigraph

PROLOGUE

ONE

TWO

THREE

FOUR

FIVE

SIX

SEVEN

EIGHT

NINE

TEN

ELEVEN

TWELVE

THIRTEEN

FOURTEEN

FIFTEEN

SIXTEEN

SEVENTEEN

EIGHTEEN

NINETEEN

TWENTY

TWENTY-ONE

TWENTY-TWO

TWENTY-THREE

TWENTY-FOUR

TWENTY-FIVE

TWENTY-SIX

TWENTY-SEVEN

TWENTY-EIGHT

TWENTY-NINE

THIRTY

THIRTY-ONE

THIRTY-TWO

THIRTY-THREE

THIRTY-FOUR

THIRTY-FIVE

Terminology

Acknowledgements

About the Author

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Copyright ©2012 Emma Raveling

.epub edition

ISBN-10: 0984022562

ISBN-13: 978-0-9840225-6-4

All rights reserved.

 

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons living or dead, is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved. No part of this publication can be reproduced or transmitted in any form by or any means, electronic or mechanical, without permission in writing from the author or publisher.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Note on Terminology

 

The glossary is purposefully placed at the end. A few new terms have been added and meanings extended for what is uncovered in this installment.

There are spoilers if read ahead of time.

But if you wish to access it or simply bookmark the page, the direct link is here:

Terminology

For my mother and brother.

And for RO. I miss you.

 

La mer est ton miroir; tu contemples ton âme
Dans le déroulement infini de sa lame,
Et ton esprit n'est pas un gouffre moins amer.

- Charles Baudelaire, "L'Homme et la mer",
Fleurs du mal

 

 

 

The sea is your mirror; you contemplate your soul

In the infinite unrolling of its billows;

Your mind is an abyss that is no less bitter.

 

- Charles Baudelaire, "Man and the Sea",
The Flowers of Evil

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

PROLOGUE

 

Blackness closed in.

Thick and viscous, the oppressive horror coated every pore.

A scream built.

No air. No sound. No sight.

Just the choking absence of everything.

I pushed. Something was there. I could feel it.

But the more I shoved, the stronger the monstrosity became.

I wildly clawed at the space in front of me, trying to fight through.

The suffocating pressure grew, seeping deep under skin.

Tightening. Squeezing.

Cold terror pounded.

I had to see. I needed to see…

 

I awoke with a start.

Heart hammered, the echo of a scream clogging my throat.

It was always the same. Night after night for months.

The devouring blackness that only left crushing panic and desperation.

No matter what I did, I couldn't break through it. Couldn't see behind it.

Waves of nausea rocked my stomach and breaths continued to come in short, harsh spurts.

Shuddering, I wondered when that darkness would finally swallow me whole.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

ONE

 

Weak rays of late afternoon sun filtered through the windows.

"Do you want it?"

I tossed my hair back. "Of course I want it."

"We could do the same thing we did last time."

"Why don't you let me have it?"

He shook his head. "Doesn't work that way."

"You really want to do this?"

His mouth curved. "Don't you trust yourself?"

I raised my brow. "Of course I do."

"Then let's do it." The lilt of his voice was persuasive.

We had a little bit of time left. It was too tempting.

"Fine."

Hands readied. Eyes focused.

One, two…

Fingers flashed. I extended mine straight out with paper. Two of his fingers shot out.

Scissors beat paper.

"Best two out of three."

Amusement flickered over his face. "Of course."

One, two…

This time, I brandished scissors. He had paper.

Tied score. I concentrated.

One, two...

Fist shot out in rock. Smashing his scissors.

"All mine," I said smugly.

I grabbed the delicate pastry and made a show of taking a big, satisfying bite. The cream chocolate was absolute heaven.

Julian LeVeq lazily stretched and ran a hand through his short, black hair. "I've got to get better at this rock, paper, scissors game."

I swallowed. "Don't be a sore loser."

The rich aroma of coffee, luscious sauces, and freshly baked goods saturated the air, adding to the homey warmth of the cafe.

I happily ate the last éclair, savoring the sweet taste of dessert and victory.

"Went to a famous bakery in Seattle last month." He took a sip of coffee. "Their stuff couldn't hold a candle to Stan's."

"Why were you in Seattle?"

He winked. "Not going to happen, sweet iris."

I scowled.

As First Lieutenant in the chevaliers, Julian was investigating the identity of the Shadow. The elusive figure created and led the Aquidae, a race of demons water elementals waged war against for centuries.

Julian often disappeared for days at a time and occasionally let slip he'd travelled to other cities.

But no matter what I did to wheedle information out of him, he wouldn't share any details.

"You know I'll eventually find out."

Striking dark blue eyes gleamed with skepticism. "Sure you will."

I couldn't wait to wipe that smirk off his face.

Anxiety rattled and I took another bite to still jumpy nerves.

"This is total perfection," I called out.

Stan Molyneux, burly owner of Cafe Rivière, came to our table. A stained white tea towel hung over his shoulder and a large belly pushed down the half-apron around his waist.

"You say that every time you're in here."

"You love when I say it."

He grinned. "Been doing this forty years and I don't get tired of hearing it. But I am tired of running this place day in and day out."

He always complained about the same thing.

"What would we do if you retired?" I wiped my sticky fingers on a napkin. "Haverleau wouldn't function. And you wouldn't last a day without your hands itching to cook something."

"You kids are too young to understand. Would've retired long ago if I'd found someone to take over."

A widower, Stan had no family and the small, quaint cafe took up his life. He'd built it into one of the most popular establishments in Haverleau.

"You worry too much," Julian said. "Enjoy yourself. Get away from all this."

Stan sighed. "If only it were so easy."

"Life goes on out there." Julian gestured toward the sky. "Among humans in the world outside."

I frowned. "You want him to go Rogue?"

"Better than being locked up here and going through the motions."

"But it's not safe —"

"It's never safe, darling." Everything out of his mouth sounded suggestive.

I crossed my arms. "You want him to risk his life?"

"He shouldn't put his life on hold until the war ends. Who knows when that'll be?"

I glowered. As the prophesied
sondaleur
, I was supposed to bring down the Shadow and end the war.

I took the comment rather personally.

"All right, you two. That's enough." Stan's brow furrowed. "Doesn't the selection announcement start soon?"

Julian glanced at his watch. "We better go."

Winter had swiftly arrived in northern Washington. Icy wind whipped against my skin in sharp bites as we headed back.

Shivering, I wished I could wear a scarf.

But after the discovery that Miriam Moreaux lived in Haverleau for months as an Aquidae, the Governing Council passed an ordinance prohibiting any clothing that covered up our necks and a possible Origin scar.

Julian buttoned his grey cashmere coat. "How was your first Thanksgiving at the Governing House?"

"Grandmother was in full, frozen glory."

"I'm surprised it went off without incident."

"Yeah, well." I kicked a leaf on the ground. "There might've been a little something during the soup course."

Rhian had brought up my failing grades in Elemental History. I'd vehemently objected to her assessment and it hadn't gone over so well.

Julian laughed and the rich, warm sound sent a pleasant vibration through me.

"What about you?"

"The usual. Mother and father sitting in icy silence." Bitterness crept into his voice. "I almost choked on the amount of disapproval in the air."

Marquisa LeVeq had a real problem with her only Redavi son being a chevalier. And I had a big problem with her.

Empath Virtue reached out. Heated magic coursed through my veins, brushing the threads of emotions inside him.

Anger. Frustration. A trace amount of sadness.

"Stop that," he said, irritated.

Only the shape-shifting selkies and magical dessondines could sense the use of my magic.

Julian was a demillir, a half-human, half-ondine male. He shouldn't have felt it.

"How'd you know I was using it?"

"The look on your face."

Those eyes really didn't miss much.

"You shouldn't rely on it, anyway." Julian raised his brow. "You can figure things out without it."

Since I learned to fully tap into the source of my Virtue, I was able to use it on elementals.

If I'd only been stronger six months ago…

BOOK: Billow
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