The Carnelian Legacy (3 page)

As Marisa screamed, the sound of her voice mingled with the horse’s terrified whinnies. Her cape whipped across her face and blinded her as she was sucked up and separated from Siena.

With no sense of up or down, she spiraled helplessly in circles through the air as the wind roared in her ear. Her arms groped for anything to grab onto. Unable to see the individual trees but just a spinning mass of blurry green, she was overcome by dizziness.

I’m going to die
.

She felt a sharp blow to her temple and landed with a hard thud just before she drifted off into a dark, dreamless sleep.

CHAPTER 2

CARNELIA

MARISA
’
S
HEAD
THROBBED
WITH
pain as she slowly opened her eyes. Two young men were crouched down on either side of her, discussing something in a language she didn’t recognize. A dark-haired man was supporting her head with his arm when suddenly his eyes locked on hers.

“Marken mat rede fynchel sit?”
he asked her softly.

Stunned by his perfectly chiseled features, Marisa couldn’t help but stare. He had a strong square jaw that was covered with a couple days’ worth of dark stubble and his skin was lightly bronzed. The color of his hair was so dark it was almost black, and his eyes were framed by thick eyebrows. His face was marred only by a half-inch scar along his cheekbone.

She sat up quickly but became dizzy and sank back down again. Her temple felt wet and sticky. She touched her glove to her forehead and was horrified to discover that the wetness was blood. The dark-haired man released her gently and strode over to his licorice-colored horse. He removed a piece of cloth from his saddle bag and returned. He pressed it firmly against the wound.

Not to be outdone, the red-haired young man jumped up to retrieve a flask from his horse’s saddle. He offered it to her and stroked his beard thoughtfully.

“Hesen myrd akin limh?”
the redhead asked.

It dawned on Marisa that they were probably tourists in town for the Ashland Shakespearean festival. Gold Hill was pretty far from the festival, though, and she wondered what were they were doing so far up the mountain.

“Are you lost?” she asked finally.

The men exchanged bewildered glances, and the redhead turned the question back to her with an amused smile.

“Are
you
lost, milady?”

“No, I’m not lost,” Marisa said, relieved that he could speak English. “Who are you?”

“We mean you no harm, milady. We are on a journey.”

She looked around. “Where is Siena?”

The redhead looked puzzled. “Siena? Hmm, I don’t know of any village around here called Siena. Is that where you are going?”

“Siena is my horse!”

“Ah, of course! Darian found your horse down the road and brought her back here. We had quite a time calming her down. She’s over there, just beyond those trees.” He pointed off into the woods.

“Who’s Darian?”

“Oh, do forgive me. We’ve not yet introduced ourselves. My name is Lord Arrigo Macario, but my friends call me Arrie.” He bowed low and swept his hand in a fluid gesture. “The tall man with the suspicious eyes is His Excellency Darian Fiore.”

The dark-haired young man nodded slightly but didn’t lower his eyes. He kept them fixed squarely on Marisa.

“And might we know your name, milady?”

She cocked her head. Lord? Milady? This guy seemed to be taking the Shakespearean act a bit far. “My name is Marisa.”

“
Din rew fynchel sit Mar-isa,”
said Arrie, translating.

Darian nodded again but remained silent. His eyes narrowed suspiciously at her as he examined her from head to toe, soaking in every detail.

“So, what’s a young lady such as yourself doing out in these woods alone?” Arrie asked.

“I’m just out riding Siena like I do every day.”

Arrie jumped up. “If you would excuse me—we are actually in a terrible hurry. I was just about to replenish our water supply when we stumbled across you. I shall return in a moment.”

Marisa said nothing, but just nodded. She watched in amusement as he took off through the trees. The tourists that flocked to Ashland for the festival tended to go overboard with their costumes and funny accents, but these two seemed to have the Shakespearean act down to a science.

She propped herself up against the base of a nearby tree and lifted her gaze. The dark stranger was still watching her like a hawk.

Roughly twenty-three years old, Darian was unusually tall and broad. He was dressed in a strange but elegant uniform with a metal breastplate and dark cloak. He wore knee-high boots and carried a large sword at his side.

Is this guy for real?

“Do you speak English?” she asked nervously.

Silence.

He crossed his arms and watched her in curious silence. His eyes guarded her tightly, as if he were spring-loaded and ready to jump at the first sign she tried to run away. There was no hint of a smile on his stony expression.

Marisa glanced off into the trees where Arrie had disappeared. At least he had acted civil toward her. She scanned the forest around her and quickly weighed her options. Her shoulders sank as she realized there was nothing she could use as a weapon. Darian, on the other hand, carried a gigantic sword, and he didn’t appear as if he would hesitate in using it.

She wondered if she should try to run for it but quickly decided against it. She was no match for either of those men. Even if she did manage to get away, she wouldn’t get far.

What did they want with her? Would they try to rob her? Arrie had said that they weren’t going to hurt her. Neither of the two young men seemed to be the criminal type, but one could never tell. She didn’t have her wallet or anything else of value on her.

Except her mother’s ring.

Marisa’s heart sank. Her father had warned her not to let anything happen to the ring, but she’d been dumb enough to wear it out riding. She glanced down at her hand. Her gloves were still on. At least for now the ring was safe.

Arrie hurried towards her and snatched her satchel off the ground. He tossed it into her lap. “Come, we need to move quickly. The
rijgen
are known to hunt in these forests.”

“Who are you guys? Are you from Europe?”

“No, milady.”

“Well, obviously you’re here for the Shakespeare festival.”

“We need to see to that wound on your head,” Arrie said, helping her to her feet. “It appears you have bumped it pretty hard.”

She brushed the dirt off her jeans. “I’m okay. I just need to call my uncle.”

“Might I please inquire as to where you are from?” he asked.

She fiddled with her phone. “Uh, yeah—I’m from Jacksonville, about eighteen miles south of here. Hey, do either of you guys have a cell phone? I need to call my uncle, but my battery is dead.”

Arrie smiled. “I thought as much.” He grabbed the reins of his dapple gray horse. “Come, let’s move quickly out of these woods, and once we reach the village, we’ll talk.”

She shoved her phone in the satchel. “Wait, you didn’t answer my question. Who are you guys?”

“There’s no time to explain. Come with us now if you want to leave these woods alive.”

“Leave the woods
alive
?”

Darian was scanning the trees as Arrie glanced around nervously. “It’s highly likely they’ve already detected our presence here. Are you able to ride?”

“I’m okay. Just point me in the direction of my horse.”

“Be quiet until we are out of the forest,” he whispered.

“Why are we whispering?”

“Shhh!”

Arrie led Siena over to Marisa and handed her the reins. As she mounted her horse, he grabbed his leather pouch from a nearby rock and quickly climbed up into the saddle. He motioned to her to be silent and all three started down the mountain toward Gold Hill.

They had only been riding for a few minutes when the weight of Darian’s stare started to bug Marisa. She spun around to give him an earful, but the moment their eyes met, she remembered Arrie’s instructions for her to be quiet. She had no idea why he was acting so strangely toward her, but maybe he was one of those Europeans who despised Americans.

Marisa shielded her eyes from the sun. It had already sunken low on the horizon, so she must have lain unconscious on the path for a few hours. As the horses clipped along at a brisk pace, she studied the trees carefully. Suddenly a sinking feeling spread from the pit of her stomach.

Something didn’t
feel
right.

Although she knew those woods like the back of her hand, she just couldn’t seem to figure out where they were. Perhaps Siena had wandered further up the mountain than she’d thought. But she remembered seeing the new picnic table right before she blacked out.

Marisa knew exactly where they
should
be.

Once they reached the end of the forest, she followed Arrie through a clearing and squinted when she saw a small town a few miles away. Had they come out on the other side of the mountain? It looked as if it might be Sam’s Valley, but she couldn’t be sure.

The two men seemed to relax a bit. Darian took the lead as they rode down the steep mountain trail single file. When they reached a grassy meadow at its base, Arrie passed her and maneuvered his horse next to Darian’s. Marisa heard them quietly discussing something, and quickly brought Siena to a halt.

“Okay, you guys, I need some answers here.”

The two men exchanged silent glances but they didn’t stop.

“You’ll have your answers soon,” Arrie said. He eyed her with a torn expression, but he kept moving.

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, recalling the sequence of events from the time she’d woken up. “We should have reached Gold Hill by now,” she said.

“Milady, it’s not safe out here after dark. We need to get to the village quickly,” said Arrie.

“What village? Where the heck are we?”

“We’re near Andresis. Please hurry!”

“Um, okay, Andresis. Never heard of it.”

She whipped out her iPhone to track her position. Darn! She’d forgotten the batteries were dead. It was too dark to use her solar charger.

Marisa felt the two men’s eyes on her. They had stopped in the middle of the road and Darian was glaring at her impatiently.

“Okay, you win,” she said finally. “But at least tell me who you are. My uncle would kill me if he knew I was going off with two strange men.”

“As I said before, I am Arrie Macario, and this is Ambassador Darian Fiore. We are on a diplomatic mission to Abbadon and must reach Andresis by nightfall. So you can either accompany us to safety or remain here and take your chances.”

“Are you two for real?”

Arrie shifted uncomfortably. “Marisa, I know this will be difficult for you to accept, but there is no easy way to say it. You are no longer on Earth, but on Carnelia. I shall explain everything to you shortly, but we really must get inside.” The men moved on with a sense of urgency.

She hurried to catch up. “Wait—where is Carnelia?”

“No time to explain now, just hurry.”

The sun slid behind the mountains just as they reached the entrance of the village.

Marisa’s jaw dropped.

The village of Andresis was surrounded by a wooden structure fifteen feet high. The gate was guarded by gigantic men dressed in black armor with long spears and shields. The man who Marisa guessed must be the captain of the guard motioned for them to dismount, but when he noticed the crest on Darian’s breastplate, he bowed and quickly waved them through.

Although the village might have been plucked out of some scene from The Late Middle Ages, something about it appeared almost futuristic to Marisa. The suits of armor worn by the men weren’t like the crude tin cans and cumbersome chain mail displayed in heritage museums and old British mansions. Rather, they were elegant, unrestrictive, and tailored to fit each owner. Each man carried some sort of weapon, whether it was a sword, dagger, or bow. The women were clothed in understated yet elegant dresses with hems that lightly brushed the ground and flattered the female form.

Marisa followed closely behind Darian and Arrie and tried not to gawk. As the townsfolk nodded and bowed to them as they passed, she noticed them staring at her casual attire. It was then that she realized none of the women were wearing pants. The whole scene made her feel like she’d stumbled onto some elaborate movie set in Hollywood.

The quaint, black-bricked houses and shops had green, glazed roofs and appeared old yet cozy. A shepherd guided a herd of livestock down the main road, but she couldn’t determine what sort of animal they were. They appeared to be some sort of goat/deer hybrid, and she watched in amazement as the black-horned beasts meandered past them.