A Sneak Peek From A Blossom at Midnight

 

A Sneak Peek from A Blossom at Midnight, The Scented Court, Book 1. Coming Soon!

A Blossom at Midnight is an epic YA fantasy that follows three strangers from three wildly different kingdoms as their lives and troubles converge…

Sixteen-year-old Jessamine Fontana of the Kingdom of Solana longs to leave her rural life. And though she’s always obeyed her mother’s commands to keep her pointed ears and winged familiars a secret, the half-fae teenager is on the verge of unleashing her rebellious streak. When she attends the local flower festival and her secrets are easily uncovered by a member of the Calyx, a prestigious retinue of flora fae, it triggers a cascade of opportunity she never dreamed possible. As she discovers her exciting new life, she learns that her own mother has been keeping a much more serious secret from her, one that changes everything.

Rejection has left fae courtier Laec wallowing in wine and disdainful of what he sees in the mirror. When Queen Elphame offers him a commission that will take him far from his homeland of Stavarjak, he jumps at the chance to make a fresh start. But Laec’s interesting new life is full of interesting new people, and he soon learns that healing his heart may also inflame the very trouble that his queen sent him to prevent.

Beautiful and eligible Çifta Unya of the Kingdom of Boskaya believes in the importance of duty. Wishing to please her ambitious father, she agrees to a betrothal to a powerful fae prince. But when she discovers his cold heart and attempts to break the engagement, the queen-to-be quickly finds herself in chains. Alone and trapped in a damp fortress and with all of her communications monitored, Çifta cannot see a way out.

Excerpt (unedited):

Laec pulled Grex to a halt at the crest of the hill they’d just spent two hours climbing. It could have been defined as a mountain, so steep and tall it was, but because it was covered in the soft fuzzy fae trees known as hylshe, from a distance the hill looked like a pile of green hair clipped from the scalp of a giant. Hair hill, as it was known to the locals—though on maps it was called Okumak Mountain—was the southernmost landmark at Stavarjak’s borders. The top of Hair Hill was where Queen Elphame’s influence over Stavarjak’s climate ended, meaning that as Laec descended the other side, the weather would turn bitter. It was not yet noon but heavy clouds the color of iron hung low over the landscape, blocking much of the sunlight.

He dismounted to free his cloak from beneath the rear fender of Grex’s saddle. A cold wind blew through Laec’s tunic and drew a shiver, whipping his red locks around his head. He wrapped the cloak around his shoulders and fastened it at the throat, then tied his hair in a low tail at the nape of his neck. Putting a hand on Grex’s shoulder as the stallion nickered, he asked, “How about you? Do you need a blanket?”

But the climb had warmed Grex’s body and the heat of his muscles soaked into Laec’s palm. He put his arms around the tall horse and pressed his chest against Grex’s, letting the stallion’s heat bleed into his torso. Warmer, he swung back into the saddle. As Grex descended the winding road, Laec felt the last of the magic of Stavarjak ease away. There would be no access to earth from here on out, not that Laec needed to be able to visit the terrene realm, but knowing that he was that much further from Georjayna gave him mixed feelings. Laec had—in spite of his best attempts to keep his heart remote—fallen in love with her. Leaving Stavarjak was just what he needed. Queen Elphame knew it. Fyfa and Byrne knew it, and when he was sober, so did Laec.

Grex picked his way across the switchbacks, going east then west as they worked their way down. Laec had ridden Grex before and liked the stallion, not just for his smooth stride but for the pitch darkness of his coat. Not a hair in the stallion’s mane, tail, or coat was anything other than the softest black, which made Grex both handsome and difficult to see after sunset. If Laec found himself traveling at night, which could easily happen when treading new roads, he could guide Grex into the trees and become nearly invisible. If trouble found him on a barren landscape, then he could rely on Grex’s fleet and powerful legs. Failing that, and too far from Elphame for his magic to work, Laec was good with a sword, even if he’d not touched one lately. He shook off thoughts of being attacked in a foreign land and focused on the landscape. Laec couldn’t yet see the Saltless Sea, even from the heights of Okumak, but he expected to arrive at Ashtaraq by nightfall. He’d book passage across the Strait of Ashtaraq, then find a stable for Grex and accommodation for himself.

When the pair reached the bottom of Hair Hill, the road widened and improved. Traffic, while it could never be considered busy or crowded, increased as the forest terrain was broken up with patches of farmland and small villages. Crossroads became frequent. People were friendly, greeting those going in the opposite direction. When Grex passed a rumbling wagon full of brightly colored root vegetables with a young girl perched on top, she plucked a dirty carrot from the cart and held it out for Laec.

“For your pretty mare,” the girl said sweetly, with the strong accent of those who’d been raised speaking the old form of Ashtaraq. Laec didn’t correct the girl about Grex’s gender, only thanked her and took the carrot. He brushed off the dirt and tucked the vegetable into one of the pouches hanging over Grex’s withers.

By the time Ashtaraq came into view there was a covering of snow on the ground either side of the road, which had turned muddy. Thin layers of ice formed over shallow puddles, cracking loudly under Grex’s hooves, which he seemed to go out of his way to step on. Perhaps his way of alleviating boredom.

The small port city of Ashtaraq was quaint from a distance, and grubby close up. Steeply peaked roofs thrust crookedly into the sky like monster’s teeth, and the smell of fish and animal dung tainted the air. The roads had become slop. Laec didn’t dismount until he’d reached the shores of the Saltless Sea. Here a boardwalk kept things a little neater, but the place was a jumble of people and animals, fishmongers and ship makers, stevedores and women carrying baskets of vegetables or shellfish. There was a sense of urgency as the last of the day’s light drained away. The shipyards and markets were closing, merchants dumping buckets of water across their flooring to wash away fish guts or sawdust.

Laec asked a boy where he might book passage across the strait and the young man directed him to a pub called The Parrot. “The captains gather there for dinner most nights,” the boy told him in a voice that hadn’t broken into manhood yet. “It’s best avoid the billets office where they’ll charge ye twice as much.”

Laec produced a copper from his vest pocket and flipped it at the youth, who caught it in the air with a grin. Laec went to the pub and dismounted, tying Grex in front of a watering trough at a respectable distance from three other horses. He went inside The Parrot. The wooden plank floor sagged beneath Laec’s booted feet as he avoided the low-hanging lanterns strung along the soot-soaked ceiling. The smell of stale beer and salty meat washed over him as he combed the inhabitants for anyone who looked like a captain. Three respectable-looking fellows sporting impressive beards, and one vulturine, raw-boned and cleanshaven man sat at a corner table drinking watery-looking beer.

“Even’, Captains.” Laec offered a smile.

The three larger men mumbled a reply. The skinny man only took a sip from his mug.

“I seek passage across the Strait.”

“To which port?” The one with the copper tint to his hair bent his head back.

“I would prefer Montyra, but I’ll take any port along the western coast.”

The skinny man grunted. “I sail for Cardagenya in the morning. Ye’re welcome aboard but I’ve got no sleeping berths left.”

Laec’s heart fell. The passage to Cardagenya would take him further from Solana than he wanted, and the trip could take up to three days depending on the wind and the weather. He glanced at the other captains with a hopeful expression.

The copper haired one shrugged. “Sorry, lad. I sail for Rashampet in two days. No help to you, I’m afraid.”

The others grunted that passage to Cardagenya tomorrow morning was Laec’s best option.

“Do you have room for a horse?”

“Is he seaworthy? I’ve no patience for the flighty ones, they disturb the other animals.”

“Yes, sir. He’s been on a ship before.” In fact, Grex had been on several ships but Laec hadn’t been on anything bigger than a raft, a fact that Laec kept to himself. Volunteering his inexperience to these crusty old sailors wasn’t a wise idea. None of the captains asked, probably assuming that, like themselves, sailing was a regular part of Laec’s life.

The bony man said: “Then I’ve a stall for him and standing passage for you for five silvers. I’ll have one of the men find a place to string a hammock.”

Laec paid half the fare to the skinny one who introduced himself as Captain Dalel, who pocketed the coins and gave him a handwritten ticket. Laec tucked it into a pocket and asked where he might find lodging. They gave him confusing directions to a stable and boarding house several neighborhoods away called Pelargons Billeting, where he could also get dinner for himself, oats and hay for Grex as well as breakfast. Laec thanked them and left the pub, bumping his head on a lamp on his way out.

***

Twenty-four hours later and Laec was heaving into a grey, churning sea over a slimy railing. Hearty laughter from more than one sailor brought blood rushing into his cheeks, making his face feel like it was on fire in spite of the cold wind. Brackish seawater sprayed into his face and he squeezed his eyes shut as his stomach did another lazy roll. He wished he were dead. Laec had never felt worse and silently cursed Queen Elphame for suggesting the sea route. How he longed for sturdy, stable land beneath his feet, the smell of grass and trees and flowers. He opened his eyes and watched the churning waves, taking deep breaths. He wiped his mouth and straightened, feeling only slightly less like throwing himself overboard. His mouth tasted like poison. He wondered how Grex was faring below decks and prepared himself to stagger to the nearest hatch and then tackle the set of slippery, narrow stairs.

“So not a sea-faring fae, then?” came a friendly, feminine voice.

Laec turned his head slowly, hearing his own neck creak. Was this what it felt like to be old and disabled?

A young woman stood beside him holding a bucket with a ladle in it. Her feet were planted and her hips and knees moved like freshly oiled machinery as the ship rolled beneath her. She didn’t grip the banister and none of the water in her bucket sloshed over the edge. She scooped some and held it out to him.

Gratefully, he rinsed his mouth, spitting over the side and being careful to turn his head so his spittle was carried away by the wind. He took another rinse, spat and then swallowed the rest. He handed the ladle back. “Thank you.”

“Take another,” she replied with a smile. “Otherwise next time you vomit it’ll burn something awful.”

“The next time-” Laec put a hand on his mouth as his cheeks ballooned. He got himself under control, but only just. “I hit the burning point half an hour ago.”

The girl wrapped one arm around the widest part of the bucket and held it against her hip as the other hand disappeared into a pocket in the front of her apron. She produced a kerchief and handed it to him.

Laec took it, thinking she meant for him to clean his face, but felt a lump inside. Unwrapping it revealed half a green apple and a small white lump that looked suspiciously like sugar. Laec’s stomach reacted at the sight of food and he handed it back, wincing.

“Eat it. Even if you don’t feel like it. The salt and apple together will calm your belly.”

Laec gave her a doubtful look. “Truly?”

“Aye. Get it down and the worst will have passed.”

Laec gingerly took a small bite of the apple and a lick of the salt.

“I’m Tarrin.”

He swallowed down the first bite and took another. “Laec. Are you crew?”

Tarrin shook her head. “Captain Dalel would rather die than have a woman working on board. I make this crossing four times a year to visit my grandparents.”

“By yourself?”

“Not at first, but now that I’m older, yes. The crew know me well. I’m in no danger.”

Laec thought she couldn’t be much older than eighteen but didn’t say so. He was grateful for the water and the apple but he didn’t feel like socializing. “Thank you for the refreshment, Tarrin,” he said, politely but dismissively turning back to the sea.

To his chagrin, she moved closer and set the bucket on the railing, holding it so it wouldn’t fall over. She relaxed into an elbow like she was planning to stay a while. Tarrin’s brown eyes flicked over his form and features with an intensity that made him look away. Her gaze dropped to his mouth. Her lips parted softly.

Laec groaned inwardly and took another bite of apple and lick of salt. He had to admit that his stomach was feeling a little better. He was grateful, but he also felt annoyed. Before Georjie, flirting was one of his favorite sports. Somehow, he’d lost the stomach for it.

“Where are ye from?”

Laec took his time before answering. “Stavarjak.”

“I thought so. We don’t see many fae on this crossing but when we get them they’re from Stavarjak or Rahamlar, but you don’t have the look of the fae from Rahamlar. You’re a lovely pink color.”

Laec popped the rest of the apple into his mouth and kept his gaze on the horizon. The clouds of yesterday had not broken that morning nor all day and now cloaked the moon. There was nothing to see. How Laec longed for a glimpse of land, or the flash of a lighthouse, anything that signalled civilization.

“I was born in Ashtaraq, but I live in Cardagenya now.” She let out a dramatic sigh. Laec flashed a sideways at her and was horrified to see a dreamy expression on her features.

“What I really want to see-”

He closed his eyes. Please don’t start telling me your dreams. Please go away.

“-is Solana.”

He opened his eyes, almost telling her that was where he was headed, then clamped his mouth shut and looked away.

“I’ve seen paintings. They say it smells even better than it looks. The only reason I know that’s true is because my father was there once. He’s a map maker, you know, and a good one, too. He worked for King Armyn, that’s the present king’s father, to survey the gardens. He says he was only allowed to see half of what is there, the rest is kept secret.”

“I thank you for the water, miss,” interrupted Laec, intentionally not using her name, “but I find I’m not in the mood to talk. I’m sure you understand.” He put a hand over his stomach and made a pained face, though he was feeling much better.

Tarrin looked hurt, then angry. “See if I bring you water next time you’re hurling your intestines to the fish.” She lifted her nose and flounced away.

Laec marveled that she was able to cross the see-sawing deck with her nose so high in the air. He faced into the wind and closed his eyes. Peace at last.

His eyes popped open as a crew of rowdy passengers crossed the deck behind him. One of them stumbled into him as the boat lurched, smashing Laec’s tender stomach against the railing and bringing on a fresh wave of nausea. Laec used the railing to push back, sending the big man rebounding into his friends. “Oaf!”

With a smooth step sideways, Laec managed to dodge the worst of the shove the oaf gave back. The man’s friends hadn’t noticed, or if they had they didn’t care. They continued on up the deck. Laec and the oaf contemplated whether the energy required to exchange blows was worth it. Laec’s fist tightened and he didn’t look away, but when the man snarled at him but then left to catch up to his friends, he breathed a sigh of relief.

He made his way to the hatch to check on Grex. The stallion was munching hay and standing with a rear hoof tipped up on its edge like he was relaxing in a pasture rather than a damp stall on a heaving vessel. He paused in his chewing to blink at Laec with his big dark eyes, as if checking to see if his master was alright instead of the other way around.

Laec reached over the stall to stroke Grex’s ear. “I’m glad one of us is seaworthy.”

He didn’t stay long as the nausea returned with a vengeance now that he was below decks. He fought the urge to gag and said a sheepish goodbye to Grex before staggering his way back up the stairs and returning to his place by the railing. His only comfort was another passenger, this one a tall scrawny boy, bending over the railing and yelling like a dragon at the sea as he lost his dinner. Laec hung his head over the side, closed his eyes and took deep breaths. When the nausea passed he looked over at the boy, who looked back at him with a pitiful expression.

“I’d like to die now,” the boy said.

In spite of himself, Laec laughed and the boy joined in with a guffaw of miserable hilarity that was quickly overtaken by a loud retching sound, which only made the two of them laugh harder. What do you know, Laec thought as his stomach revolted, misery really does love company.

End of Excerpt.