The Slivers of Avalon: The Abandoned Edge Read online



  The Abandoned Edge of Avalon

  The Slivers of Avalon: Book < I >

  by Eden Tyler

  The Abandoned Edge of Avalon

  The Slivers of Avalon: Book < I >

  Published by Blue Daisy Books 2011

  Title first published by Night Publishing / March 2011

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

  All rights reserved.

  Copyright © 2011 by Eden Tyler

  www.edentylerbooks.com

  Cover Design © 2011 by Laura Robinett

  www.GeeksInk.com

  Cover Redesign © 2012 by Amy Smith

  Cover Background Image: “Young Woman Sitting on a Stump”

  © Mykhaylo Palinchak | Dreamstime.com

  No part of this book may be used or reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any manner without prior written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in articles and reviews.

  Second Edition, First Printing

  www.bluedaisybooks.com

  For C. Belle

  You can be whatever you want – just dream and have faith and stay true to yourself.

  A second dedication must go out to those of you who knew the ‘real’ book, no matter how many times I felt the unknown need to change it… You know who you are.

  I love you guys! I honestly cannot say ‘thank you’ enough.

  PROLOGUE

  Not wanting her newborn daughter anywhere but in her arms, Myrea found herself searching for the safest place to hide the babe. She simply had no choice. The park she had come to was unkempt, and when she passed the fountain she saw no water sat in it. Myrea knew it would be the best option; the lesser of two evils. She placed her tiny, helpless girl in the deep bowl, knowing she was safe yet wanting her against her breast.

  Dim lights circling the area cast shadows that would help hide the babe. Especially since she was swaddled in dark grey, and so blended in with the stone. Myrea had chosen the Irish name Kellyn, which has more than one meaning, but ‘powerful’ would be the most useful at the moment. Kellyn needed to use her strength to stay quiet and brave so that she wouldn’t cry.

  Myrea looked up to find the danger she sensed. She didn’t see anyone strange, but she noticed one thing she had never seen before. Pieces of her soul were leaving her body. Whether due to a loss or a theft, Myrea could not imagine why, or how. But there was no denying it—the wisps of black she saw floating were coming from any and every part of her. She knew what was happening from stories of The Depraved—the dark fae. On top of wondering what was doing this to her, she also was curious as to why her soul would be so dark – she was the bright, spirited, and helpful faery of her village, after all.

  Goosebumps appeared all over her body along with a strong tingling on the back of her neck. No one ever argued with Myrea’s senses and so she was not about to, either. She believed herself to be in grave danger. Walking away and leaving her daughter, she could have sworn her heart crumbled just as a dry leaf does in late autumn. Taking slow and soft, yet deliberate, steps, she looked in all directions—attempting not to appear obvious.

  Adrenaline and fear buzzed through Myrea’s body. She had led a rather lengthy life, and yet the cold, crushed loss building in her chest was a new experience. Damning her gift of knowing future events via emotions, tears spilled out for both herself and her baby girl. Why couldn’t she have felt this pain earlier so she could have avoided the situation altogether? With a glance to her left, the cold surrounding her heart spread out and shot through her veins, slicing them with its speed. The sight of what could only be Ankou shocked Myrea’s system so drastically that she couldn’t move or even attempt to think of what to do. She stood frozen for some time.

  Once she was able to make a decision, she dashed into the bushes – but not swiftly enough.

  As if it matters how fast one moves; if Ankou wants something, he will get it.

  Indeed, Ankou had known Myrea’s location. He had been watching her since the sun rose. And now the moon was about to change again and he could not spend any more time playing around. Due to circumstances from so long ago he hardly remembered them, Ankou was granted a release from the personal hell where he lived but only once every generation—when Jupiter and Saturn conjoined; when the yin mixed with the yang.

  Allowed one waxing and waning cycle of the moon, free in the land of Avalon, he was also allowed one kill. Only one and, as much as he hated waiting, that hate was equaled by his pleasure in delaying that kill. So he stretched the game out over the month, intensifying it toward the end until he could not stand it any longer.

  The day had been interesting as he fed off of Myrea and her babe. The pain of the birth was a satisfying meal. But the dread that drifted like smoke toward him now … he licked his lips in anticipation. He did not understand what terrified the faery so, but it was of no consequence. Her fear nourished him.

  Myrea had heard the tales of Ankou, as had every other faery. But, like many others, she did not believe in him—especially not the rumors that he was Death—simply because she had never heard of any fae who died. They are supposed to be an immortal race. This regrettable lack of belief froze her yet again, which brought Ankou closer. The ice inside Myrea’s body shattered with recognition of the truth. Adrenaline pumping harder to help save her, she became light-headed and clumsy, but still aware enough to know her attempt at a backward, running escape was futile.

  She gathered the courage to look directly at Ankou’s face. All she could make out was a pair of glowing, orange eyes that seemed to be lit by the hellfire she could only assume lived within him. He cocked his head and the creepy eyes clouded over with confusion. But in a flash any emotion was gone and the greenish creature grabbed Myrea, tossing her past the bushes into the forest, apparently to decrease the risk of humans seeing anything.

  The changing of children was a common practice, and had never gone so wrong before. Myrea had foolishly trusted what she had been told to do. She should have run away with her family but now all she could do was face that this was her fate. And make the most of it.

  While her physical shell was being destroyed by Ankou, Myrea willed the rest of her spirit and strength to reach Kellyn, and then prayed to the goddesses that her darling would be all right. Her mind went back to their all-too-short amount of time together, wondering if she missed a crucial step to protect her girl. She closed her eyes, spending her last moments of existence trying only to remember the joy she recently experienced.

  Earlier that day, Myrea had given birth as the sun rose. The babe’s hair had glistened in the light all day, and then had twinkled like the night sky on their walk to this park – a place where both faeries and humans could move from realm to realm, if they knew how and were so inclined.

  Kellyn was not a typical faery, though. It had pained Myrea to know this and had forced her partner, Kellyn’s father, to leave. He cared nothing of rituals and what ‘should’ be done; he could not stay to see his daughter disappear. But as the seventh generation born since the last changeling in the family, Kellyn was meant to live among humans.

  Myrea had avoided thoughts about the darkness of the situation and, after a fast recovery, she prepared the infant for her journey ahead. She had wrapped, rubbed, and cleansed her first and only with a mixture of herbs that faery mothers have always used. Then she had blessed Kellyn with water from a nearby, sacred river—following the purification ritual exactly as she should have.


  A fae friend had said a blessing before placing an enchanted kiss on the babe’s forehead, sending mother and daughter on their way to the edge of the forest. Once there, Myrea was supposed to seek out a family housing a newborn girl. She knew she had done everything right up to that point. She was sure of it. This was simply an arbitrary fate. The use of psychic abilities, which were bestowed upon her by the Elders, should have aided her in the quest.

  Encountering Ankou proved the powers pointless, as she would not be making her way through the park to the city. She certainly did not foresee herself succumbing to the evilness of this depraved entity.

  She happened to be thinking just that—not the joyful thoughts she strove for—as the creature finished the last morsel of her physical being. The only distraction from her pain and confusion was the feeling of Ankou ripping away her entire essence, and his soul angrily devouring what was left of her own as it became an eternal part of his being.