The Underground Witch (Incenaga Trilogy) (40 page)

“And Burungi?
You’ll come too?” Emmeline asked.

Burungi
shifted on his feet. “No, Princess. My days of irritating you are past. I must return to my family.”

Emmeline
nodded. “I understand, although I will miss irritating you as well.”

“What a shame, for you did it so well.”

“I learned from the best,” she said with a smile. “Farewell Burungi.”

Bur
ungi bowed and slipped from the room.

“He irritated you to
o?” Erick laughed. “I thought I was the only one.”

“Oh
, no. I fear there are a good number of people who feel as we do toward Burungi.”

“An
irritating fondness?”

“Or fondly
irritated.”

“Exactly.”
They said in unison.

Erick wrapped his arm around Emmeline and lifted her until her feet dangled in the air.
He swung her around and set her down, kissing her nose before resting his forehead to hers. “Let’s go home, my love,” he breathed.

“You are my home,” Emmeline replied
.

Emmeline pushed off the ground
and wiped at the smudge on her knees. “I’ll miss her so much,” she said, leaning over to adjust the flowers she had laid next to Flora’s grave. She wanted them to be perfect.

“She must have been a great woman, to give what she gave,” Erick said.

“She was. I think she needed to make restitution for losing my mother.”

Emmeline’s eyes traveled to the grave next to Flora’s. It had
been no small task to take Flora’s body to Pamizak, but Emmeline knew Flora would have wanted to be near her daughter. It had been six months since they returned from Griet, and although the journey to Pamizak stretched for days, Emmeline wanted to bring a fresh bouquet of spring flowers.

She
glanced into the faces of those near her. Erick, O’fin, her father. Each person held a special part of her heart and each had suffered consequences from loving her, or her mother, or her grandmother. The Incenagas weren’t the only ones who experienced pain from the curse.

Emmeline’s father knelt beside her mother’s grave with his hand to his heart.
His eyes glossed and she suspected he was thinking of the love they shared and lost. But her mother hadn’t been the only thing he’d lost. He had given up his entire life, his crown, his kingdom, to hide Emmeline and provide a safe life for her. He had sacrificed more than any man should in one lifetime.

Emmeline looked
toward little O’fin, a strong boy with an even stronger heart. He lay on his stomach near Flora’s grave marking and whispered words Emmeline couldn’t hear. His eyes watered and then he whispered some more. He too suffered from the curse.

Emmeline frowned.
Did the great sorcerer in love with Orinda know he would hurt so many lives? When he cursed the woman of his desire, did he know he cursed all those who loved her in return? Did he know he doomed so many more?

Emmeline finally
turned to Erick, her husband of nearly six months. They married within days of returning to Dolmerti, unable to wait any longer, and despite the short notice, most of Dolmerti had come to celebrate. A festival of unheard proportions sprung up overnight and lasted for weeks.

But Erick had suffered because of her. They were happy at the moment, but it could all change in the blink of an eye. Orinda had not made an appearance as of yet and Emmeline knew it was only a matter of time before she sought revenge. Demyan, she believed, had meant more to Orinda than a mere servant to a queen. And that was what Orinda was – a queen
to the Incenagas. Deep down Emmeline knew Orinda deserved her allegiance on some level, but she had yet to find herself willing to give it.

Emmeline’s
hand rested on her swelling belly and her thoughts drifted to the tiny fluttering she often felt inside her. It was a girl, she knew, and her heart clenched with the thought. Another girl to pass on the curse. Another life of pain and death and sorrow. Emmeline had found a way to break the curse for herself, but would her daughter learn how to as well? Flora had never been able to. Could Emmeline take that chance? How long would it take for news to spread that a new Incenaga had been born. Emmeline shuddered. And even if they found the leather cuff and gave it to her daughter for protection, what about her daughter’s daughter, or the daughters yet to be born generations from now.

Erick
met Emmeline’s gaze and smiled, unaware of the quiet resolve settling deep within her heart. She didn’t want anyone else to suffer, especially the little life forming in her womb.

Once again, as
she had often done before and would often do again, Emmeline squared her shoulders and set her jaw. It was time to end this, she thought. It was time to face Orinda and break the curse once and for all.

I’d like to thank my unsuspecting family and friends whose names were used in
The Underground Witch
in one form or another. I’m sorry that some of you met an early demise. I promise, it doesn’t mean that I don’t like you. I just had to let you die. No hard feelings. Thanks to Andrew and Michelle Cardon, Ethan Dee, Marsha and Ron McDowell, Brenda Volonte, Jeff and Darcy Jewell, Benjamin Dee, and Nathan Dee.

Special thanks to Julie Jewell, Brenda Volonte, and Danielle Dee for your enthusiasm and support.
And to Marian Dee who trudged through a very early version of
The Last Witch
, but because I’m a total doofus, didn’t get a shout-out in the acknowledgments. Not this time! Thanks for your advice and support.

Kisses and hugs to my kiddos who still say “I love you” when they get on the bus every morning, even though it isn’t cool to say it in front of friends. You make my days a little more crazy and a lot more wonderful.
I hope you liked the pirates, E-man.

Thanks to
my most amazing husband, Benjamin Dee, who holds down the fort while I run off for weekends of non-interrupted writing time. You rock. Seriously, you’re the best. And thanks for all the cool ideas. The fighting scenes would be lame without your man’s brain.

Thanks again to Isaiah Stephens for creating another masterpiece for the cover. You
have so much talent it would be easy to hate you, except that you are such a nice person that it’s much easier to like you.

A million thanks to my readers. Your emails, comments, reviews
, and chats have made this experience a thousand times more fun than I ever thought possible. Thanks for giving my books a chance.

M
any thanks to the awesome bloggers who helped promote
The Underground Witch
- Heidy Medrano at Chronicles of a Book Addict, Michelle Kullman at Mom with a Kindle, Kayla Shirley at The Ramblings of a Toddlers Mom, Elicia and Chloe  at Girl in the Woods Reviews, Nina at Project Read and Review, Celia Medrano at Book Fidelity, Ruty at Books are my way of Living, April at My Paranormal Book Review, Tracey at Young Adult Book Addict, Megan at Megan Talks Books, Ashna at Wanted Readers , Flora Bateman at From the Bootheel Cotton Patch, Marissa Aldana at For the Love of Film and Novels, Kellie Sheridan at Reawrite, Zuleeza at QWERTY, Lauren Watkins at Northern Plunder, Monica Euen, Susan Hauland at A Soul Unsung, Jessica Thompson at Reviews that Bite, Brooke Bumgardner at Brooke Blogs, Stephanie Keyes, Ligia at Fiction Addiction, Christina Madison at A Bibliophiles Thoughts on Books, Willow Cross, Kelly at Reviewing in Chaos, Stephanie Ward at A Dream Within a Dream, Nova Reylin at My Seryniti,  Sabina at Delirious about Books, Rachel Marks at YA Novel Readers, My Book Crushes, A Fan Girl’s Obsession, Ramblings of an Elfpire, Sonia Fogal at A Journey Through Words, Jenna Lynne at Between the Bind, Asha Butterflys at Sparkling for Books, and Jill Marie at Little Hyuts.

And
most of all, I would like to show my appreciation to my God for helping me become the person I am today. I know I still have a lot of growing to do, but I’m glad to know that I don’t have to do it alone.

Debbie Dee
recently moved to southern Idaho with her husband and three children where she is learning how to be a country girl in her favorite pair of blue heels. She adores fairy tales and happy endings, but secretly crushes on the bad guy now and then. As a dedicated musician who practices way too much, she never expected writing would sweep her off her feet until she jotted down a scene from a daydream, which turned into two scenes, and then turned into a messy house and her first novel. Since then she hasn’t been able to let a day go by without writing. Visit her online at
www.debbiedee.com
.