Descent (The Birthright Book 3)

By Amy Saunders

Rosamund knows that she’s an heir to an ancient throne. But accepting it is another matter.

As she and her family and friends try to peel back the layers of the “bad seed” mystery, it’s clear that she can’t ignore her mark or the responsibilities it comes with. Or the fact that someone is searching for the heir–for her. And she doubts he or she has good motives.

With her father shedding his façade and a bigger threat making its presence known, Rosamund may need to embrace her destiny sooner than she expected.

Other Books in the Series:
Inborn (Book 1)
Marked (Book 2)
Bequest (A Short Story)

• Language: English
• Publisher: Amy Saunders
• Release date: Jan 31, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370773541

Amy Saunders

Amy Saunders is a sci-fi/mystery addict with a soft spot for humor and romance. She lives in Massachusetts, and loves to bake and watch movies. Learn more about Amy and her books at http://amysaundersauthor.com.

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Descent

(The Birthright Book 3)

Amy Saunders

Descent

Copyright © 2017

http://amysaundersauthor.com

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

Also by Amy Saunders

The Birthright

Inborn (Book 1)

Marked (Book 2)

Bequest (A Short Story)

The Belinda & Bennett Mysteries

Cliffhanger (Book One)

Auf’d (Book Two)

Drive-Bye (Book Three)

Overkill (Book Four)

Misfortune (Book Five)

Two to Tango (A Mini Mystery)

Unexpected (A Short Story)

Personal Shopper (A Short Story)

Standalone Titles

Biohazard (A Novella)

The Jester’s Apprentice

Dead Locked

Chapter 1

The impossible always happens when you least expect it. I knew that perfectly well by this point. But from the expression on the little girl’s face in the backseat of the car I’d just materialized next to after coming out of a portal, she was still figuring that out.

It had been a long summer of hopping around from one location to another as more cave sites were found with our ancient language of Maon written inside of them. We’d stuck with the Searchers, the archaeologists of the rest of the universe, for a while as they studied the caves, but then ventured out on our own to examine the writings without interference.

Right now, we–my mom, Uncle Ro, and I–were in the Rocky Mountains of Colorado, high in the snow-capped peaks of the state. After grabbing lunch for the three of us, I wound up the corkscrew road to our cave site on my new motorcycle, which my uncle had taught me to ride over the past few months.

I lingered by the back of the car and flipped up the visor on my helmet and winked. The little ginger-headed girl grinned back, flashing two missing front teeth. I dropped my visor, revved the engine on my motorcycle–dark purple–I could never get Lachlan’s first set of wheels out of my head–and zoomed past the car and through another portal. I came out around the next curve, winding my way up the mountain road.

I veered off and up a dirt path until it dead ended near a pond and, more important, a cave. My black boot brushed along the snow that already covered the rocks and weeds until I stopped near my mom’s SUV, dirt and bug spattered. I swung my leg over the seat, making sure my bike was stable before tearing off the helmet. I adjusted the bag of food supplies across my body and hiked uphill until I came to the mouth in the mountainside just tall enough to pass under. Once inside, though, it opened into a wide tunnel system that webbed deep into the rock. At least that’s how it seemed to me.

That mountain cave was one of the several with Maon writing we’d discovered around the world since the spring. We were on our own at this site while Desta and her team still investigated another location, for entirely different reasons from us. I wasn’t even sure Desta knew we were doing this, but I suspected my mom wanted time to study without having to pretend why we were interested.

After a tumultuous fall and winter, we’d kind of gotten back on track. At least I wasn’t haunted by visions in the middle of class and dodging assassins. I passed my sophomore year, and with an almost perfect average at the end of the semester. And my dad kept his distance after my mom healed him from the shadow person’s stab wound. So all in all, I considered it a success. But I was still glad to get away once school wrapped up. Plus, moving around so much made it harder for anyone to follow or track us.

After almost making a wrong turn in the tunnels, I managed to weave my way to the dead end where the writing was located. All those secret tunnel drills we had to do growing up came in handy when it came to memorizing cavernous passages. Mom and I didn’t have much trouble in that department. I guess my dad had been useful for something.

Hey! I pulled the bag off my shoulder, setting it down on the makeshift table we’d brought inside. It shuddered under the weight, but managed to steady off. I got lunch.

My uncle Ro (formerly known as Lachlan) and my mom faced the cave wall with the writing. Hey, Ro replied absently, not turning around. But my mom flashed a smile, studying some readouts on her scanner, a rectangular alien tech device with a translucent screen that she held on either side by its handles.

Anything useful? I said, nodding at the scanner.

It says it’s made of rock. Her dark eyes twinkled and she set the scanner down on the bag by her feet. We still have nothing to go on but what we see right in front of us.

I left the food on the table, standing next to them, examining it myself. It was the middle of August, and we’d spent the whole summer staring at nearly identical cave walls. Someone had taken the trouble to even out the surface before carving the same phrase in each one. We had yet to figure out why.

Ro inhaled and let out a long breath, like coming back to the surface. Maybe there’s something behind this. He knocked on the stone.

Mom shook her head. The scanner would pick up on it if it were hollow. I just think this is it. A wall with Maon writing, like every other one we’ve found.

Every cave had been the exact same thing, and despite my mom’s research and extensive knowledge, and even Ro’s, there was no answer for what it meant or why it was here. It was even unclear if it was one person, or several. They all seemed to be relatively modern, but that was it.

We’ll figure it out, she said, her chin turned up as she looked at the ceiling. We just need more time.

I sighed, raking my fingers through my sable hair, my father involuntarily passing through my mind. Admittedly, I’d thought of him less over the summer, once we started moving around and he wasn’t there to pop up uninvited all the time. But he was kind of always there anyway, even if pushed to the background. More and more, his talk about factions developing and his ominous tone about the future bounced around in my thoughts.

I’m not sure we have much more of that, I said, shaking one knee as I stood. I knew we were on the verge of something big, but waiting for it to show up was the worst.

I reached out to trace one of the letters with my fingertips, and as soon as my skin met the cool stone, the wall in front of me vanished and flashed in and out for several seconds, alternating with what seemed like a dark room, before disappearing entirely and leaving me in the dark.

Once it calmed down and I could see more clearly, I realized there was a white mist swirling and billowing around me, and I was only in the semi-dark. There was an arched door straight ahead letting in sunlight filtered through storm clouds. When my eyes adjusted, it looked like I was in a stone corridor, and I could feel stone beneath my feet, even with the lug soles of my boots. There was no sound, and nothing else to see. I headed for the door, when the fog around me started to take on more of a life of its own, swirling vertically in tendrils that formed sinewy fingers that reached for me, grasping at my shirt before disintegrating.

That was weird, but I was used to oddities in these shared memories, as I now knew they were called. They were memories shared, passed on, from one Maon heir to the next. I’d had plenty of them, especially last winter–and many in school at the worst times. So this didn’t seem so bad.

I walked on, pivoting on my toes as the mist continued growing in fingerlike tendrils around me. I stopped, facing the way I came, which was pitch black. I couldn’t see anyone. But I could feel someone. I strained my eyes to make out even a silhouette, but there was nothing. I still trusted my energy sensing; it had never let me down before.

Then a voice broke through the stale quiet. It was resonant, but feminine, and reverberated on the stone walls. But it also reverberated in my head, like a clap of thunder in my mind. I clapped my hands to my ears, but I couldn’t keep out the sound. Especially when it seemed to originate from inside me.

"Who’s the heir?"

I could barely register the meaning of the question from the noise in my head, though technically the words came through crisp and clear.

"Who’s the heir?"

All I could think in response was how badly I wanted to get the thundering out of my head, and I squeezed my hands tighter around my ears. Not that it helped. If anything, I felt the voice was getting louder.

"Who’s the heir?" It boomed, and then the mist vanished like a strong wind blew it away. The building started to collapse, and the stone gave way under my feet. I felt a scream explode in my chest, but it never made it out of my mouth as I fell into the void.

Chapter 2

I had enough experience with shared memories to know you never really knew what to expect. But this was different. It didn’t feel like any memory I’d ever had. True, at first, the shared memories seemed like the present, but once I started to get the hang of them, I could tell a difference. But this. This felt like it was happening right then.

I opened my eyes–or came back to reality–still in front of the cave wall, my fingers pressed against it. I retracted my hand quickly, before it could happen all over again. The thundering was gone, but I felt like I had ringing in my head still. But maybe that was my imagination.

Did you just have a memory? Mom startled me, putting her hand on my arm.

I jumped, pulling back.

Mom rubbed my shoulder, her eyes skimming over me. That’s never happened in the caves before.

No, but I don’t remember ever touching the writing, either. And I felt that was probably a good thing.

All right…what did you see?

I explained what happened, including that it felt different from shared memories. At least the ones I’d had so far.

Mom folded her arms, her head turning to the side as she pondered over what I said. Her silvery blonde curls were tucked away in a bun, some shorter strands coming loose around the bottom. She still looked as young as when she and my dad married, and it seemed to be a trait among our people, so that was a huge bonus. Even if it did mean I had weird and unexplainable visions sometimes.

It sounds like someone was trying to dream talk with you, she said after a few moments. My mom glanced at Ro and he nodded in agreement.

Dream talking? I said. What on earth is dream talking?

It’s a means of communicating long distance, Ro said. I was still surprised sometimes to see his swarthy face and broad shoulders after originally thinking his name was Lachlan with longish black hair and porcelain skin. Our family was strange.

So it’s telepathy. I glanced from Ro to my mom. I’d heard telepathy existed, but I’d never imagined we could do that.

Not exactly, Mom said. It’s more involved than just voice communication. You actually mentally converge, like you’re talking face-to-face.

I opened my mouth to respond before I realized I didn’t know how to respond to that. What?

Mom laughed lightly. I know, it sounds weird. All that means is that you see the person you’re talking to as well as hear them.

But I didn’t see the person talking. For all intents and purposes, it did come across like a shared memory.

Mom nodded. "That’s why I said someone was trying to dream talk with you. Obviously, you were blocking