Ascent: Book 3 of the Scorched Trilogy Read online

  Ascent

  Book 3 of the Scorched Trilogy

  Lizzy Prince

  Contents

  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

  Epilogue

  Afterword

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Don’t forget…

  Also by Lizzy Prince

  Copyright ©2020 by Lizzy Prince. All rights reserved

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without written permission of the copyright owner except for the use of quotations in a book review. For more information, address: [email protected].

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Cover Design by http://www.StunningBookCovers.com

  http://www.lizzyprince.com

  Created with Vellum

  To my mom.

  Thank you for everything you do for me. Simple words can’t capture how much I appreciate all of it.

  Chapter 1

  It felt like we’d been traveling for centuries by the time we landed in Dublin. My hair was a snarly mess, my eyes were puffy from lack of solid sleep, and my fingers felt like fat sausages from being up in the air for too long. Our entire crew had boarded a plane in Chicago a thousand years ago, or maybe just seven hours earlier, and we looked like we were going on a school trip set up by a questionable club. We almost blended in with other holiday travelers, but the dread on our faces was a little more dire than the other travelers heading home for the holidays. Well, at least most of them. Some people looked like they were on their way to have their fingernails removed. Happy holidays, everyone!

  Mari, Butch, Theo, Lola, Ryan, Munro and I were all suffering varying levels of jet lag and tiredness as we deplaned. My eyes were doing a super slow blink in between too long bouts of staying open. They felt gritty and dry, and I longed to dip my face in a vat of eye drops to get them lubricated again. Mari, Lola, and Munro all looked as if they’d just had a refreshing trip and were ready to start touring the countryside. Theo didn’t even have the energy to stand and was sitting on the floor leaning on a giant pile of duffle bags and small carry-ons formed from all of our stuff.

  Butch and Ryan looked the worst off. It turned out that Butch was a nervous flyer and if he had any hair on his head, he probably would have pulled it all out on the flight. Ryan didn’t have the same issue, but there was a sadness around him that sat heavy on his shoulders.

  I knew why we were in Ireland, we all did, but the reality of it seemed to be hitting Ryan the hardest. We were here to kill his older sister. Someone he grew up with and had known his whole life. Yes, she was Munro’s mother, but in some ways, I think he’d already grieved her loss. He didn’t remember her ever being in his life. He’d grown up knowing that she had murdered his father and abandoned him. Those weren’t the same types of memories that Ryan had, and I could see how hard this was all hitting him.

  Mari and Munro were talking to someone behind the counter at the car rental place, and I wondered what kind of vehicle would fit all of us. I closed my eyes for a few seconds, pressing my lids together tightly as if it could help produce more moisture and get rid of the film that was covering my eyeballs. Opening them back up, I did a slow turn and took in the airport around me. It was modern and clean, with huge floor to ceiling windows and lots of chrome. There had been several Christmas trees set up as we’d walked out from our gate, and glittering decorative snowflakes hung from the ceiling while white lights strung above twinkled. It almost put me in a festive mood until I remembered why we were in Ireland.

  I was a little embarrassed that I’d expected to land in some rinky-dink airport in the middle of nowhere. I’d known we were flying into Dublin, a metropolis for God’s sake, and still it hadn’t even occurred to me that it would feel so modern.

  Mari and Munro moved away from the counter as she jiggled some keys at us. “Grab your stuff. We’ve got the van.”

  She promptly handed the keys off to Ryan as if it was a given he would drive. It made the most sense since he’d lived here and was old enough to drive a rental. Hefting up our bags, we shuffled outside to catch a shuttle to the lot where our rental car was parked. Wandering around the lot like a bunch of lost dummies, we searched for our van, the weariness from all the travel not doing us any favors.

  After a few minutes, Lola shouted, “Found it!” and we scrambled off in her direction.

  She was standing in front of a little minivan of sorts that looked almost comically small. Looking at the four tall strapping men around me, I wondered how the hell we were going to fit. Cocking my head to the side, I saw that it was a Ford Galaxy, which I’d never even heard of before.

  “This should be interesting,” I said, my lips flattening in a bit of a cringe.

  “Don’t stick me in the back,” Theo pleaded. “I’ll throw up on everyone.”

  Lola groaned. “Of course you’d get car sick.”

  Theo didn’t bother looking at her, he just reached out his arm and gave her a playful push that barely moved her. “I’ll sit next to you in the back if you aren’t careful.”

  “Let’s get moving,” Ryan grunted out as if already weary from the road trip behavior of the kids.

  The van did have seven seats once we got inside, two up front, three in the middle, and two in the back. We had to fold down the middle row seats to get to the back, and there was absolutely no room for our bags with all of us inside. We ended up sitting with bags on our laps and stuffed down between our feet. What would have amounted to a trunk was essentially the third row of seats.

  Ryan and Butch sat up front, Munro, Theo and Lola were scrunched together in the third row, with Lola in the middle seat. She was leaning into Theo a little to give his shoulders more room on the seat behind them, while Munro rested against the window in the spot behind Ryan. Mari and I were relegated to the third row since we were the shortest out of the group. Still, my knees brushed against the seat in front of me.

  I was sick of sitting on my butt and riding, but I knew we had a ways to go before we reached our destination. We were going straight to the Hill of Tara which, according to Munro, was located in Castleboy in County Meath. He tried to explain the parishes or townships and counties to me, but it was on the flight over, and my brain was fried beyond comprehension, so it all sort of went in one ear and out the other.

  “It’ll be about two hours,” Ryan said from the front of the van, and I felt my stomach flip nervously.

  We’d discussed our plans on the plane, swapping seats often as the plans were passed around like we were playing a horrible game of telephone.

  “Let’s go over everything again to make sure everyone is on the same page,” Munro said, and I was grateful he voiced the concern that was pinging around in my head.

  Ryan nodded and started reciting our plan like a grocery list. “Hattie is probably already here, but we aren’t far behind her. The Hill of Tara is a tourist destination, and it’s open until 6:00 so
it’s highly unlikely she’ll be doing anything before people leave for the day.”

  I pulled out my phone to check the time. I didn’t have an international plan, so it was essentially only good as a clock over here, but at least it updated automatically, so I knew what time it was. It was just after noon, so we would be able to get to Tara by 2:00 and have some time to check things out before nightfall.

  “We’ll have to leave and come back once they close up for the night. There’s probably a security guard on site, but Mari’s got something to take care of them if need be.”

  Mari had mixed up a bunch of different potions before we’d left Dubuque, storing them in small, three-ounce, flight approved containers. She’d shoved some in each of our bags in order to bring as much as possible without raising some TSA flag about why she was carrying so many little bottles of weird colored liquid. We really didn’t need her to get detained in an airport prison before winding up on a no-fly list.

  “Once we see Hattie, we’ll surround her and use the binding spell and bind her magic for good.”

  No one said anything in response to his plan. It seemed like there were so many opportunities for us to mess up, since it was all sort of vague and unknown. I mean, how were we supposed to surround Hattie without her running or trying to fight us with her magic? I could see Theo tackling her like a linebacker but barring that route, I had to believe that between the seven of us we’d be able to contain her. We’d done it once before after she’d had that trucker run into Maggie’s car, so hopefully that wasn’t a fluke.

  “How do we know that she’s headed to the Hill of Tara?” I asked the same question I’d posed about fifty times already.

  Munro had told me that all of the legends passed down from the magical families implied that was where Cailleach was buried. But he’d never had much time to go into any more depth than that. I wasn’t surprised when Butch spoke up. He was the one who had the most interest in the lore and history of the magical sects of our families.

  “It sort of reads like a fairytale,” he started, clearing his throat a little, like he was using his voice for the first time in hours.

  “The legend tells of a race of fairies called Tuatha dé Danann. The story says that they came from the earth and water like a mist through the caol áit. When they arrived, they had four magical gifts that they brought to the people of Ireland. These gifts are the lia fáil, the stone at Tara, which is also called the coronation or King’s stone, the spear of Lugh, the sword of Nuada, and the great cauldron of the Dagda. All of these gifts are the stuff of legend. The cauldron was purported to be able to restore life. The spear is said to channel the power of lightning and whoever wields it can destroy armies. It’s said that once unsheathed, the sword would glow and foes would run toward it, willingly heading to their own slaughter.”

  Butch turned in his seat to look back at me as he spoke, although it looked like everyone else was riveted to his story too. I’d assumed the others had heard this before, and it looked like Lola may have because she seemed relaxed, slumped against Theo’s side like this was as familiar as a bedtime story. But everyone else was listening attentively.

  “These types of symbols show up in nearly every origin story and myth that societies and religions have,” he said, crinkling his eyes slightly as if in deep thought. “In other cultures, the cauldron is the holy grail, or fountain of youth, the spear is Thor’s hammer, the sword is Arthur’s Excalibur.”

  Butch was leaning against the center console as he looked back at me, and I didn’t know how he wasn’t getting carsick being turned around like that. Especially because Ryan was driving us through winding country roads. He shifted to tug off his sweatshirt, and I did the same. It was getting hot with all of the bodies pressed into the compressed interior of the van.

  “So, you’re saying that these legends are just stories? And these artifacts don’t actually exist?” I asked, trying to understand his last explanation.

  Butch shook his head, a little frown tilting his lips down. “Not at all. The stories had to come from somewhere and over time, they were borrowed from one tribe or another as people traveled and moved. They became the stuff of legends with their origins all but forgotten. But they started somewhere, and there is truth to be found at their core.”

  “And the coronation stone? What was that for?” I asked, realizing he didn't give much explanation for that gift.

  “The great kings of Ireland thought it was magical. It’s said that when a king of valor placed his feet upon the base of the stone, it would roar in joy and bless the king with a long reign. There is another story about the stone that says the stone was split when a king was angered that it did not roar when his chosen predecessor stepped on it, and after that, it never cried out again.”

  Butch looked at me as though I should be inferring something from this part of the story. I shook my head, not understanding what he was hinting at. He just smiled at me and continued. “Amongst the magical sects, it is thought that this part is not true, but what really happened is that Cailleach was buried under the stone, and once that happened, it never called out again.”

  “And that’s why we’re so sure Hattie is going to be there? Because the legends say that’s where she was buried?” I asked, not trying to sound doubtful but worried that we were making a lot of assumptions. We weren’t far behind Hattie, but how did we know she hadn’t unleashed Cailleach already?

  “Today is also the winter solstice. The caol áit are more open on the solstices. Magic flows more easily since the veil between worlds is thinner. At least in legend. We know nothing for sure, but if Hattie is going to do this, today would be the most likely day,” Ryan said with frustration lacing his words. The car stayed silent at this flippant declaration.

  I sat back in my seat, just then realizing I had been leaning forward like Butch was the pied piper of storytelling. Shifting my eyes out the window, I gasped as I took in the incredible landscape around us. I’d been so caught up in Butch’s story that I’d failed to notice the beauty of the country we were driving through.

  The road was narrow and winding, and we were driving through gently swelling hills of the greenest grass I’d ever seen. It was swaying softly with the wind, like it was dancing, and the sight was hypnotic. The sky was a cerulean blue, and the spots of white clouds stood in such stark contrast that it made my eyes hurt to look at. It was like color had been turned up here, and everything just sang with a gentle hum of power and magic that I hadn’t realized until just then.

  Focusing my energy on the landscape outside the car, I took a deep breath and connected with the magic here. It only took a moment and so little effort that I barely contained my gasp at the almost instantaneous connection to the magic. I saw the golden sparks of magic floating everywhere, like a billion fireflies dancing around the countryside.

  Munro turned his head back to look at me, a brief smile touching his tired eyes. Our magic was still connected, though it was less powerful than when we’d first done the blood spell, but I could still sense that he felt my awe. I somehow knew that it pleased him that his country was amazing me. My cheeks flushed, and I grinned at him before looking away. The van was much too small for those types of looks, especially when I was sitting next to my aunt.

  Instead, I turned to her and found her looking out her window as well. “Have you been here before?” I asked, knowing that our family was from here as well.

  She tilted her head toward me with a little smile on her face. “We came over a few times when we were little to visit our grandparents. It’s been a very long time though. I almost forgot how beautiful it is here,” she said with a bit of a wistful sigh.

  “It really is,” I replied, scanning her for any remaining signs of pain from her recent run-in with Hattie. “How are you feeling? Are you still sore at all?”

  “I’m good as new. Butch healed me up. I’m not even a little sore. Well, except from sitting on my ass for the last twelve hours.”

&nbs
p; We’d flown out of Chicago, which meant that we’d started the trip with a three-hour drive before we even set foot on the plane. I shared a grimace with her. My ass was tired of sitting.

  “Did you get a chance to talk to Maggie before we left? I forgot to ask in all the madness.” Mari had been an organizing fool when it was decided that everyone would be coming along. She’d used her crazy efficient planning skills to make lists and ensure everyone was packed with as little baggage as possible with seven people.

  “I did. I called her and Sara and told them we were doing a Christmas getaway. Maggie promised they would be at her grandparents for another week.” I sighed.

  I’d heard the unease in Sara’s voice when I told her I wanted to spend Christmas with Mari and Theo. I knew she was happy that I’d found family I hadn’t known about, but it made her mom senses tingle to leave me with new people over the holidays. I’d promised I would call on Christmas Day and then tried to get off the phone as quickly as possible before my guilty conscious blurted out something I didn’t really want to share with Sara. Maggie had attempted to ask some sneakily worded questions about what was going on, but she quickly gave up in a huff, and it was obvious her mom was listening in next to her. Maggie had ended our call saying she’d be expecting a very detailed report when we were all back home.

  “How about when we get back home we’ll have a party with everyone to celebrate. A meeting of the families, so to speak.” She winked at me.

  “That makes it sound like we’re mobsters.” I smiled and laughed a little, but I was sure Mari could tell my heart wasn’t in it.