The Glory Box: In the Wake of Spring

By Claudine Marcin

Award-winning author of the short story The Stairs concludes her stunning quadrilogy with a bombshell ending you won’t see coming!
In the wake of spring, new life begins …
Everything they feared about the Confederation is true: if they want to save Dara, they will have to do it themselves. Vytas and Hanita risk everything to fulfill the prophecy but will it be enough? And will they ever see Liam again?
Set upon a dystopian landscape, The Glory Box is a four-part romantic sci-fi mystery that will keep you on the edge of your seat. Each book features interesting, complex characters that must overcome tragedy and loss to save humanity, but someone will have to make the ultimate sacrifice.
In the Wake of Spring delivers enough twists and turns to give you whiplash! Every family has a story … Are you ready to see how this one ends?

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Oct 3, 2022
• ISBN: 9781665571685

Claudine Marcin

Claudine Marcin is a Maryland-based award-winning author of the short story The Stairs and is also known for the four-part romantic sci-fi mystery series titled The Glory Box. She is a member of the Maryland Writers Association and the Harford County Writer’s Group as well as a spirited football fan, poet, amateur photographer, and artist. Her book In the Wake of Spring, the fourth and final book of The Glory Box series, will be released in Fall 2022. For more information about Claudine’s books and to join her mailing list, visit her website at www.claudinemarcin.com and follow her on any of the below platforms: Facebook.com/mmadtales Twitter.com/marcinclaudine Instagram.com/claudinemarcin

Book preview

The Glory Box

In the Wake of Spring

Claudine Marcin

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AuthorHouse™

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Bloomington, IN 47403

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© 2022 Claudine Marcin. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse  09/29/2022

ISBN: 978-1-6655-7169-2 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-6655-7168-5 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2022917826

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Contents

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

SERIES

The Glory Box

PINEAPPLE IN WINTER

THE CHILDREN OF AUTUMN

IF SUMMER WERE A PLACE

IN THE WAKE OF SPRING

ANTHOLOGIES

CAPTION THIS!

SHORT STORIES

THE COLD

THE STAIRS

To my mother …

Thank you for encouraging me to finish and

for helping through the plot holes.

Spring

While the air is still crisp,

the violet sky fades to sweet creamsicle

and awakens a memory ‘neath a layer of grey frost.

Warmed by dawn’s golden chorus,

nature erupts and blooms.

For it is spring …

And the world is new

Prologue

C ome on now, Saira said. It’s time for bed.

Her knuckles were the size of chestnuts; her fingers crooked and stiff and covered in wrinkled skin, weathered by time. But Hanita didn’t mind. She latched on to the older woman’s outstretched hand and shuffled her feet as they walked toward her bedroom.

Once at the threshold, Hanita ran in front of her teacher and leaped onto her bed, landing on bent knees. Then she tugged at her pink and white bedcovers, quickly tucking her tiny legs under the sheet and blanket before laying her head on the ruffle-trimmed pillow.

Hanita’s big brown eyes were miles from sleep when she said, Tell me a story.

Saira eventually reached the girl’s bedside as quickly as her old bones would allow, sat heavily on the mattress and then began tucking the covers around the girl as she caught her breath. And what story would you like to hear tonight?

The Prophecy, she whispered, cupping her hand around her mouth.

You like that one, do you?

She nodded and smiled wide, proudly displaying the gap where yet another baby tooth had been lost to a fleeting childhood.

All right then. Saira straightened her back and tucked a lock of white hair behind her ear, then she began. Once upon a time … the world was reborn. The air was so fresh and sweet you could taste it in your mouth.

Hanita squeezed her eyes closed, lips still turned up into a smile, listening as her teacher brought this foreign world to life with her dulcet words.

"Blue oceans reached from east to west … north to south. They were miles deep and so clear you could see all the way to the bottom … And the land was cluttered with trees—tall and short; bushy and thin; soft and prickly—trees of all kinds, coating the land as far as the eye could see.

And the stars, she gasped. On a clear night, you could see all the stars in the sky that had ever lived and ever will live. And from the highest mountain peak you could reach up through the clouds, snatch a star from the sky, and put it in your pocket, Saira said, touching her fingers lightly to the girl’s torso like one would play piano keys.

Hanita opened her eyes and giggled, squirming under the covers as she tried to escape the tickle monster. Saira laughed and pulled her hands away then waited for Hanita to settle down before continuing.

"And in this new world, creatures of all shapes and sizes roamed free, basking in the beauty around them. Until one day, a great enemy descended upon them. This enemy was clever, resilient … and cruel.

Ruled by greed and power, he cut down the trees that obstructed his view. The air didn’t satisfy his hunger, so he stole its sweetness. Next, he began to hunt the creatures, wiping them out, one by one … And when he found that he couldn’t reach the stars, he blackened the sky so he no longer saw them twinkle.

The smile faded from Hanita’s lips; her eyes were wide as she clutched her bedcovers up to her neck, waiting for the storyteller to move beyond the part of the story she feared the most.

Do you know the enemy I’m speaking of?

Man, Hanita answered.

"That’s right. But the Earth fought back. Waging her final assault, she unleashed storms and sickness onto man, but he was cunning … and he survived. And when there was nothing left to conquer, man turned his war upon himself.

And then one day, a hero emerged. He tried to negotiate peace between man and Earth, but they were both tired, angry, and hurt. They didn’t know how to make peace. So, this hero showed them the way—Do you remember the name of the hero?

Hanita crinkled her nose as she thought before answering, The Architect?

That’s right, Saira said, touching her index finger to the tip of the girl’s nose.

Hanita giggled and wrapped her tiny fingers around her teacher’s hand. Saira, is this story true?

What do you think?

The girl pursed her lips and raised her eyebrow as she pondered her own question. Then with excitement she answered, Yes!

Well, there you have it.

Saira … Who told you the story?

The Architect himself.

No, Hanita giggled, dragging out the ‘oh’ sound. That’s not true.

You don’t believe me?

Hanita stared back at her teacher, searching her face for signs of deception before finally shaking her head left and right on the frill-trimmed pillow.

All right, you got me there, Saira said with a wink. I learned the story from my mother—but I did meet the Architect once when I was a girl not much older than you … I’m ancient now, she added under her breath.

Where does he live?

In Dara. And one day, you will go there and meet him yourself.

Hanita’s eyes sparkled as she yipped, Really?

Shh, Saira hissed, glancing over her shoulder to listen for any hint that Marco or Dianna had heard them talking. Then she looked back at Hanita and whispered, Yes, if you’re a very good girl.

When?

I can’t tell you that.

Why not?

If I told you, it might not come true.

Will you go with me?

Oh, so many questions, Saira groaned, feigning exhaustion. Then she stood up from the bed, straightened the mussed bedcovers and retucked them tight around Hanita’s sides. Do you remember what’s most important?

The girl thought for a moment then answered, That all—

Tsk-tsk, Saira interrupted, wagging her finger. In the old language.

"Umm… Vse življenje je dragoceno."

"Popoln! she whispered, clasping her hands together. Perfect. Oh, you’re such a smart girl, Saira gushed as she pinched Hanita’s round cheeks. All life is precious. Always remember that."

I will … Goodnight, Saira.

The older woman leaned over and kissed Hanita on the forehead then walked to the doorway where she switched off the light. Goodnight, my sweet Hanita.

Chapter 1

H er son’s name is Liam.

She knew because he told her.

Thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump

With her arms cradled around her belly, Hanita heard his heart beating from within her body and felt his soul. For the first time, she felt her son. Really felt him as if he’d already been born; as if she’d already spent a lifetime with him.

Somehow, impossibly, with her newfound gift she was able to glimpse into the future and see herself holding him on the day he’s born. A summer baby, just like his mother, he will be eight pounds exactly with warm, golden-brown eyes, like two melting caramels, and sandy blonde hair—like his father.

He won’t fuss; he will be a quiet, calm baby with a sense of peace as if he already knows and understands the strange world around him. He will grow tall, strong, and intelligent with a kind heart. And he will be a scientist—also just like his father.

Autumn was right—Liam is unique.

Dobra zemlja runs through him already and through her. She could feel it passing between them like a current. This gift that had been within her all along, lying dormant, waiting to be awakened, was powerful, like a drug. And now that she’d found it, she felt herself being consumed by it.

She saw herself playing with her baby, feeding and twirling him in the sunlight. A flash of light and she was holding his hands while he took his first steps; another flash and she was teaching him to read and then giving him his first taste of pineapple. She was picking and choosing which special moment to visit, bouncing forward and backward within his lifetime.

Am I in control of the vision—or is it the baby?

With each flash she felt herself slipping further away from reality. It didn’t feel like the unpleasant trip down memory lane she took with Caris, nauseating and cold; this was warm and familiar. And in each moment spent with Liam—her son—she felt love. Unconditional, overwhelming love.

Suddenly, she realized she was unable to control her gift. It was devouring her … Drowning her. But she was calm; at peace. And she still didn’t want to let go. She wanted to stay with her son—and he wanted to stay with her …

Click—whoosh

The sound of the bedroom door opening ripped her from the grip of dobra zemlja. As she felt herself painfully drifting away from her son, she reached for him with all her strength, but he only slipped further away.

We’ll see each other again soon, Mother, she heard him say.

Then she blinked her eyes and the candlelit room came into focus. She was still standing at her mother’s bedside, next to her sister, Caris—the sister she didn’t know existed before a few minutes ago and yet somehow always knew.

What happened? Vytas asked as he entered the room, fingers still wrapped around the doorknob. I heard a crash … Hanita, are you okay?

His voice was far away and fuzzy. She was bewildered, trying to emerge from the intoxicating vision as feelings of love for her unborn son still swirled around her, his sweet voice a mere echo in her mind.

And then she remembered where she was: Autumn’s bedroom. The room where she was born with her twin sister, darkness and light. She looked down and locked eyes with her sickly mother, lying there with a sly smirk on her lips, appearing quite lucid as if she’d been watching (participating in?) the dream with her daughter and grandson.

Babe?

Her husband’s voice was closer now as he stepped beyond the threshold, through the fog surrounding her mind. His hand on her shoulder was like a warm bath at the end of a long day and suddenly she could feel the ground beneath her feet; she felt her own heart and breath. She looked toward her sister and when their eyes met, a chill spread up her spine. She took a sharp breath then let her eyes drift to Ari, blending in with the shadows as he stood watching near the bedroom door.

V?

The spell cast by dobra zemlja had been broken and she was finally free. As her knees buckled, she felt her husband’s arms close around her, holding her weight until she wrapped her arms around his neck and regained her footing.

I’m all right, V, she whispered. I was with our son … I was with Liam.

Her voice speaking his name sent a jolt through him, standing his hair on end. I never told her about Liam—how could she know?

He had a special connection to the boy in the blue pajamas ever since that day he woke from The Long Winter—that’s how he knew they would have a son. But he never shared that story with Hanita. He couldn’t even convince her they were having a son let alone tell her they’d already met. But now she seemed so sure.

He leaned back, his arms still folded around her, and she was smiling—like a mother in love. What have they done to her?

Vytas turned toward Ari, the stranger they entrusted to lead them to Hanita’s mother—the woman he called ‘grandmother’. What is this place? he whispered under his breath.

You’ll find out, Ari answered. Then he stepped aside, inviting Vytas to exit the room through the open door. Come on. We should let grandmother rest.

Caris gently took hold of her sister’s arm and led her away from their mother’s bedside. And without a glance or a word, Hanita cradled her belly and slipped away from her husband, awake but awash in a euphoric afterglow as she crossed the threshold into the hallway.

Together, the sisters, the children of Autumn, walked into the front room where the fire burned bright, snapping and popping, dripping embers onto the stones around it.

She calls you V? Caris said, smiling at her brother-in-law as she helped Hanita into one of the dining room chairs. I think I’ll still call you Vytas if you don’t mind.

Taken aback by her remark, he raised one eyebrow at the woman tending to his wife and asked, And what should I call you?

Ah, that’s right—we haven’t met yet, have we? I’m Caris, she said, offering her hand.

He grasped her hand and shook it up and down with cautious regard. You’re related to Ari?

He’s my nephew … I’m Hanita’s sister—we’re twins.

His mouth fell agape as his eyes roamed her face, searching for similarities between the two women. But they are so different. His wife’s deep auburn hair and dark, mysterious eyes were in stark contrast with Caris’ light eyes and hair white as the moon—not to mention she’s fifteen years older thanks to The Long Winter.

Twins separated by land and time—darkness and light, divided. Speechless as he’s reminded of the line from the prophecy, he collapsed into the chair next to Hanita, took her hand in his, and gave a gentle squeeze in a futile attempt at coaxing some response from her. But there was nothing. As he continued processing the fact that his wife has a twin sister, the room is suddenly filled with light. Their hosts had turned up the flames of several glass lanterns situated around the rustic dining area.

It’s been a busy day, Ari said. I’m sure you’re both tired from your journey. Let’s have some dinner and we’ll fill you in.

Tomorrow, you’ll visit with Autumn, Caris added, returning to the table. Then later, we’ll show you around the village.

Hanita nodded, watching her sister whisk the bowl of apples from the table, a hint of clarity in her gaze. And then she closed her eyes and drifted, further from him as she replayed the memories of her son while Caris and Ari moved about quietly setting the table and pouring goblets of ruby-colored wine.

Noticing his concern, Caris said in a hushed tone, She’ll be fine … She just needs some time.

He nodded, hoping she was right.

Their hosts finally sat and began taking generous helpings of carved red meat, roasted potatoes and vegetables, and warm bread that magically appeared before passing the platters to their guests. And as he filled his plate, he wondered how long he’d been sitting there in a quiet haze.

It was their first meal in the cabin with their new family. It should have been boisterous and exciting, getting to know one another. But there will be time for that later.

There will be many family meals around this table.

********

After dinner, Caris picked up one of the lanterns and then walked