by Donna Grant
Everspell
The Kindred
Donna Grant
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
EVERSPELL
© 2020 by DL Grant, LLC
Cover Design © 2020 by Charity Hendry
* * *
ISBN 13: 9781942017639
Available in ebook and print editions
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce or transmit this book, or a portion thereof, in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without permission in writing from the author. This book may not be resold or uploaded for distribution to others. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
www.DonnaGrant.com
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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
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Epilogue
Thank You!
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About the Author
1
Western Scotland
Her quarry wasn’t far now—though Runa enjoyed the hunt. Long ago, she’d been taught to become a master of patience. Only when her target was close did her heart begin to pump excitedly. There was nothing more satisfying than taking out evil.
Stars blinked above her in the inky sky. Large, gray clouds slowly made their way across the heavens, their silhouettes highlighted by the crescent moon. The night was her favorite time. She could pretend the world was hers alone during those dark recesses of the night when most slumbered.
The one thing Runa didn’t like was people. They were liars, thieves, and deceivers. Their hypocrisy knew no bounds, and no matter how many times she gave them the benefit of the doubt, they continued proving why she was better on her own. Morea had told her that she belonged with the humans, but Runa knew better.
Her short time with them had only reinforced her decision.
She blew out a breath as she thought about the woman who had raised her. Morea had passed away several years ago, but Runa still missed her with the same ache. The woman had been Runa’s family—the only family she had. Or…the only one that mattered.
Runa pushed aside the tinge of melancholy that always came when she thought of Morea being gone. She couldn’t let her thoughts get in the way of her hunt. Especially not this one. It was too important.
There, in the distance, she picked up the sounds of her quarry. She heard the rapid, harsh breaths, proving that they had been running for some time. Runa smiled when her prey came over the small rise, making themselves visible. When she was younger, she had rushed out to meet her targets in her eagerness to finish the job. Now, she waited for them to come to her.
It was almost too easy, really. She had a knack for knowing the path they would take. Then, all she had to do was lay in wait for them. Morea had told Runa that something passed down from her birth parents had given her that ability. She didn’t care how or where she got it. The fact that she had it was enough for her.
But once she realized that she had such an ability, hunting lost some of its appeal. She had enjoyed the chase. Liked tracking her quarry and then finally catching them. There was no getting around trailing them. That was now her favorite part of the job.
Her target was getting closer. Runa cautioned herself to wait, to remember the patience Morea had taught her. Only when her prey was nearly upon her did Runa step into their path. Her eyes locked with black ones that widened in surprise—that brief instant when her target wondered if they could get away.
“You can’t,” she stated.
A small frown creased the Gira’s bark-like skin. Even the tree nymph’s hair looked like limbs, reaching toward the sky. The young Gira stared at Runa, fear and apprehension filling her visage.
Runa blew out a breath as she pulled her short swords from their scabbards that crisscrossed her back. She then placed the flat side of the blades against her shoulders. The nymphs tended to stay in groups, and because the Gira blended in so well with the trees, few forests didn’t have their fair share of them.
“You know who I am?” Runa asked.
The nymph nodded slowly, never taking her gaze from Runa.
“The Gira have put a price on your head for dishonoring your clan.”
At this, the nymph snorted. “I’m not the one who dishonored anything.”
“I’m not here to pass judgment. I’m here to carry out the sentence. Besides, you wouldn’t be running if you hadn’t done…something.”
The nymph rolled her eyes. “You think you’re so high and mighty. You, Runa, know nothing. So much has been kept from you. You were sent to kill me for dishonoring my clan. What do you think your precious Morea did? If it hadn’t been for the old queen, Asrail, Morea would’ve been killed.”
“I know the story you speak of. Morea and Asrail were close friends for years. When Morea found me and decided to raise me, Asrail didn’t stand in her way.”
The Gira’s smile was slow before she began laughing. She tilted her head to the side and regarded Runa. “Asrail is your grandmother. You’ve been kept alive because she and Morea made sure that neither you nor your sister could be found by the rest of us. But that’s all about to change. Asrail has been caught, and your sister has been found.”
Runa felt as if she had been kicked. Sister? Surely, everything this Gira said couldn’t possibly be true. Could it? But she remembered being very young and asking Morea why they weren’t with other Gira. Morea had told her it was because she preferred to live apart from the others.
Runa never had a reason to question that. Not even when she began to see for herself that the Gira rarely went out on their own. They nearly always remained in packs. Their strength was in their numbers and the many whispers that drew unsuspecting humans straight to them.
“You’re lying,” Runa told the nymph.
The Gira shook her head, the smile now gone. “I’m not. I’m running from my clan because they want to kill Asrail. After they use her to draw out your sister, that is.”
Runa didn’t want to believe any of it, but something within her said there was truth in the Gira’s words. She didn’t want to think about why Morea hadn’t told her about Asrail or her sister. There had to be a good reason.
It would be easy for Runa to finish her mission and forget anything the nymph had told her. But she wasn’t going to. Now that the words had been spoken, Runa would always remember them. And if she wanted to discover the truth, she needed to seek out her sister and Asrail to get it.
“Where are they holding Asrail?”
The Gira stared at Runa for a moment before she replied, “North.”
Not once had Runa ever let someone she hunted go. She wasn’t sure what would happen if she didn’t finish the job now. But none of that mattered at the moment. Her mind was too full of the fact that her grandmother was alive, and the knowle
dge that she had a sister. Neither of which she had known.
“What are you going to do with me?” the nymph asked.
Runa pulled herself from her thoughts. “I was paid to do a job.”
“I’m not the only one who doesn’t agree with what Sybbyl is doing, but I’m the only one who spoke up,” the Gira said.
“Who is Sybbyl?”
The nymph jerked back as if struck. “How do you not know of the Coven leader?”
“The Coven is led by three elders,” Runa corrected.
“Not any longer. Sybbyl took the Staff of the Eternal and killed them.”
Runa began to wonder if she was dreaming. She felt as if the world were turning a different way than she was. “What is the Staff of the Eternal?”
“You really don’t know anything, do you?” the Gira asked in disbelief.
Runa gave her a flat look and lowered her arms so the blades of her short swords pointed downward.
“All right,” the nymph said while lifting her hands, palms up. “The staff contains a bone of the First Witch. The Coven elders have been trying to locate and possess them ever since the Coven was formed. The Blood Skull was only found recently, but not by the witches. A Witch Hunter and a lord located it. The Blood Skull chose the lord to be its Warden and protect it.”
Runa digested that bit of information. She knew of the Hunters. She had even spotted one a few times, but she never saw them go up against a witch. “The Coven lost out on the skull, which I assume belonged to the First Witch?”
“Exactly. It was a race between the Hunters and the Coven to get the next bone. One of the Hunters got close, but an elder actually got hold of it first. Her mistake was letting Sybbyl get her hands on it. Then, Sybbyl killed the others and took over.”
“I gather this bone she managed to get her hands on made her powerful?”
The Gira chuckled. “You could say that. There was no other way she could’ve killed the elders. The more bones she has, the more powerful she becomes.”
“What does Sybbyl want?”
The Gira shifted uneasily. “She wants to rule.”
“The witches?”
“Everyone. She wants to make sure witches are in power while those without magic live in fear.”
Runa glanced away. After all the years of people killing those they thought were witches, she could see Sybbyl’s side of things. Maybe it was time for witches to live out in the open. But the thought of the Coven in charge sent a chill of foreboding down Runa’s spine.
“How many bones are there?”
The nymph shrugged. “I don’t know, but Sybbyl has twice been denied a bone. Well, one wasn’t a bone exactly. It was a witch named Helena, who is the Heart of the First Witch.”
“A descendant? You’re telling me a witch of the Coven wouldn’t give herself to Sybbyl?”
“That’s the thing. Helena wasn’t part of the Coven. She stood and fought them, along with a Varroki warrior.”
Now that got Runa’s attention. Morea had told her stories of the Varroki, but she’d thought they were just made-up stories since she’d never encountered one herself. “The Varroki are real?”
“Very,” the Gira said with a shudder. “And extremely powerful. Sybbyl was on her way to take out the Varroki after she wiped out the Hunters.”
Runa frowned. “The Hunters are gone?”
“I was with the Gira and Sybbyl when we attacked the abbey and wiped out any and all who lived there. Sybbyl didn’t care if they were witches or not. She said that anyone who stood against the Coven deserved death.”
The more Runa heard about this Sybbyl, the more she didn’t like her. Though, Runa had never really made any kind of stand in the human world. But how much longer could that continue if everything the nymph said was true?
“Go on,” Runa urged.
The Gira swallowed and glanced around. “On the way to find the Varroki, Sybbyl ordered one of her followers, Avis, to track down your sister.”
“How do you know this woman is my sister?”
“Because she has Gira blood. Something Synne—your sister—didn’t realize until Asrail told her.”
Jealousy that Synne had spoken with Asrail rose up within Runa. She cautioned herself against such emotions. She wasn’t sure if anything this Gira told her was true. While she wanted to believe it, she knew she had to tread carefully.
“You seem to know a lot about my family,” Runa said.
The nymph briefly lowered her gaze to the snow-covered ground. “Your grandmother told everyone what she had done after Sybbyl captured her.”
Runa quirked a brow in question. “Tell me.”
“Asrail saved Synne when your parents were attacked by the Gira. Asrail then brought Synne close to the abbey where the Hunters lived so that she could grow up without the fear of being discovered by the Gira. The leader of the Hunters, Edra, took Synne in and raised her. Your sister had no recollection of Asrail or you until recently.”
Runa tightened her fingers around the hilts of her swords. “I’m supposed to believe you?”
“I’m telling you what I know. I was there to witness most of it. Some of it I heard from others.”
“If Synne was raised as a Hunter, how did she escape the slaughter?”
The Gira shrugged. “I don’t know. What I do know is that after Asrail saved Synne and you disappeared, she was removed as queen of the Gira.”
“What of my sister?”
“She met a Highlander named Lachlan, who had a finger bone of the First Witch in the pommel of his sword. Together, the two of them went north to find the Varroki.”
Runa frowned when the Gira paused. “Is that all?”
“With the help of a young witch named Elin that Asrail befriended, Synne met Asrail on her trek north. That’s when Sybbyl trapped Asrail.”
Runa wasn’t sure what to make of Asrail. She had been queen, but had given that up to save her grandchildren. Then she’d lived alone for years before befriending a witch? That wasn’t something a nymph did. Or maybe Runa was the one who didn’t know what the Gira did or didn’t do. “And the rest? Did Synne make it to the Varroki?”
“She did. As did the Highlander and Elin. Unfortunately, so did Avis, who happens to be Elin’s sister.”
Runa really didn’t like what she was hearing. “Was my sister harmed?”
“Synne and the Highlander fell in love, which was unfortunate because Avis made her watch as she killed Lachlan and took his sword. What Avis doesn’t know is that the Highlander survived.”
Runa didn’t care. The need to avenge her sister was strong. It felt strange to have such intense feelings about someone she didn’t even know. But they were there, nonetheless. “Was Elin part of all of this?”
“No one has seen Elin since, so I can’t answer that.”
“What do the Gira have planned now?”
“They have pledged themselves to Sybbyl because she has the staff. The plan is to use Asrail to draw Synne out, find Avis, and get the sword. Then kill the Varroki.”
“What about the other bones?”
“If there are other bones, Sybbyl will go after them.”
“It isn’t easy for a Gira to live alone.”
“Asrail did it. So did Morea. Others have, too.”
Runa shrugged a shoulder. “You don’t really have an option. You either live alone, or you die with them.”
“Are you…?” The Gira blinked, hope filling her eyes. “Are you going to let me go?”
Runa knew it was the wrong decision, yet she found herself saying, “I am.”
“So, you believe me?”
“I don’t know what to believe, but something is telling me that I need to find out the truth.” Runa slid her blades back into their sheaths. “I’m going to check out your story. If you’ve told me lies, I’ll come for you. There won’t be anywhere you can hide.”
“They aren’t lies.”
“Good luck, then. I hope I don’t see you again.”
The Gira bowed her head. “Half-human or not, you still have royal blood.”
“A lot of good that has done Asrail.”
“It might do you and Synne some good.”
Runa grunted and stepped around the Gira.
She had more hunting to do.
2
Find her.
Brom’s eyes snapped open. He pushed the blanket away and sat up. The woman’s face was etched into his memory. He released a shaky breath. Many incredible things had happened to him over the years since he’d discovered what he was, but nothing like the dream.
He swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood. Brom ran a hand down his face and dressed before he walked outside. Hues of purple and pink streaked across the sky as dawn approached. He walked to the stream and let the soothing sounds of the water running over rocks calm his racing heart. Only then did he allow himself to think back to the dream.
The woman was…striking. She had an oval face, large eyes, and plump lips. With her clear, blue eyes, golden hair, and pale skin, she appeared ethereal. Until he saw the double swords she carried. He didn’t know who the woman was or why he needed to find her.
Brom let his gaze move over the area. He had ventured away before, but he hadn’t stayed gone long. Nothing held him to this place anymore. Hadn’t for some time. He wasn’t sure why he remained, other than the fact that it was home. Now, it appeared as if he was going to leave.
And he wasn’t sure if he would come back.