“Do you think you can you track her?”
The cat was still for a moment as he considered and then nodded. Optimism flared within him. “Come, her room is this way and you can pick up her scent from there.”
Beck opened the door to his room and they slipped out silently. There was no one in sight, but he heard laughter coming from the pub downstairs. He tried the door to Kiernan’s room and it was still locked. Without hesitation, he put his fist through the door next to the knob and reached in to open it from the inside. When he was sure no one had heard the splinter and crack of wood, he stepped inside and carefully looked around. It was empty except for Kiernan’s backpack and a few personal items on the table by her bed. He repacked her belongings, shouldered the pack, and turned expectantly to Bajan.
The Draca Cat was already honed in on Kiernan’s scent, and Beck cringed when he sprinted out into the hallway, raced down the stairs and into the pub. A woman screamed as soon as she saw Bajan, and chairs scraped back as people stumbled to get out of the cat’s way.
Indifferent to the reaction of his presence, Bajan scrambled through the pub and out into the night. Beck held up his hands. “It’s all right! He is a Draca Cat and very friendly. Please! Do not be afraid.”
As soon as he was out the door, Beck quickly located Bajan standing at the far end of the street. He sprinted toward the cat. “Have you found anything?”
Bajan whined and began circling the same location over and over. Beck could read the cat’s meaning easily. Kiernan’s trail ended in the middle of the street.
It did not make any sense.
Except, he thought suddenly, if she was picked up and carried. That had to be it. Unless she disappeared into thin air, it was the only explanation for the lack of her scent from this point.
This was a big city. Someone had to have seen something.
His father always told him there was a solution to every problem and, if it was important enough, you just had to keep trying until you solved it.
This was important enough.
Chapter 21
LAND OF THE ELVES
Every muscle was tensed as Kiernan waited behind the door to her white room with her dagger clenched tightly in one hand.
Soon, one of the women would be back, and she would be waiting.
It was still a mystery to her as to why she was being held captive. If these women were of benevolent intent, why was her door locked? From the outside? Why did they keep spelling her into unconsciousness? She had had very little contact with any of the women since Gemini’s peculiar announcements in the four-tiered chamber days ago.
Gemini said that she knew Kiernan’s mother, so at some point the Queen must have brought her here. But why? What was Gemini referring to when she said that Kiernan would be trained? It was all very intriguing, but she simply did not have time for games and innuendo. Beck and the others must be worried sick by now.
As soon as she thought of Beck, her heart sank and she looked up toward the ceiling of her room to blink back the tears that threatened to fall. No, she shook her head. Most likely not worried at all, and more like still wrapped up in the arms of another woman and not caring in the least as to what had befallen her. The realization that he did not feel the same way as she did caused an unbridled pain so deep that she did not know if she would ever be the same person again. Yes, she would continue to exist, but she would never be the same, not with a gaping hole carved out of her heart.
Footsteps sounded outside of the door and she readied herself. She just needed to scare them into letting her go, she told herself. She did not need to harm them. Her only goal was to leave this place and meet up with her friends again.
There was a knock.
When she did not respond, a key was inserted into the door and with a sharp click, it was unlocked. Kiernan held her breath as a woman dressed in a blue velvet dress with black belt at the waist and black, shoulder length hair pulled back into a braid, entered her room.
With a growl, Kiernan sprang forward and grabbed the woman around her neck, the dagger less than an inch from her throat. “We will now do this the hard way,” she breathed into the woman’s ear. “I have to get out of here and you are going to show me the way.”
“Princess, you do not want to do this,” said the woman calmly.
Too calmly?
“Yes, obviously I do.” She nudged the woman’s back roughly toward the door. “Now go, and lead the way out of here as fast and silently as possible. If you make any move….” The woman lips moved in a silent chant.
Demons hell and an ash pit, swore Kiernan, not again. Before she had a chance to respond, her dagger dropped from her nerveless fingers and she fell back onto the floor, stiff as a board and unable to move no matter how hard she tried. She could not even move her lips to scream.
The dark-haired beauty stared down at her. “Do not let our looks fool you, Princess. We are not weak and delicate. We can be ruthless if we have to be. After all, they do not call us witches without reason.”
If Kiernan’s rage could have broken the spell over her inert body, it would have exploded into a million fragments. She had never felt so helpless in her life, her fate so completely in another’s hands. She had always been able to fight or talk her way out of any situation and now she could do neither.
The woman’s gorgeous blue eyes were confidently smug. She was young and appeared to be around Kiernan’s age, although it was hard to tell with these women.
“My name is Sapphire,” Kiernan’s tormenter announced and then stepped one leg over Kiernan to straddle her in a very humiliating fashion. “If you continue to push, Princess, you will be pushed back. Hard.”
If Sapphire expected Kiernan to nod, it was a cruel joke.
The woman tossed her black braid over her shoulder and squatted. “I should probably leave you on the floor all night to teach you a lesson, but I won’t. Gemini is waiting.” She got right down in Kiernan’s face. “Try it again, though, and you will be very, very sorry.”
Sapphire mumbled a counter to her spell, and as soon as it lifted, Kiernan let out a frustrated scream and jumped to her feet.
“What in the hell was that?” she shouted. “How do you know magic? What are you?”
Sapphire held her head high. “I told you. I am a witch or a sorceress if you like that name better.”
“So, you are telling me that this is some kind of witches’ coven?”
“Exactly what I am telling you.”
“Really? And, how does Gemini know my mother?”
Sapphire grabbed Kiernan by the upper arm in a vice like grip. “Come. I will take you to Gemini and, Highworld bless her, she can answer all of your irritating questions herself.”
“Fine,” said Kiernan, and gave the sorceress a sickly sweet smile as she jerked her arm out of her grip.
Sapphire raised her eyebrows, but said nothing.
Kiernan was escorted down the same corridor full of tapestries and into the antechamber with the fountain of the young lady, but instead of going to the chamber across the white marble floor, Sapphire led her up the wide staircase to the first level of balconies.
They passed several young women, all in formal attire, who nodded politely to them. At the top of the stairs, Sapphire continued down a hallway and then stopped before a simple wooden door with no sign or decoration.
She knocked and was immediately granted admittance from a voice on the other side of the door.
The petite Gemini came from around her desk as soon as Sapphire and Kiernan entered.
“You may go now, Sapphire. Thank you.”
Sapphire curtsied deeply to Gemini, and then cast one last withering look over her shoulder at Kiernan before she departed.
The first thing that struck Kiernan when she entered Gemini’s chambers was the provocative scent that permeated the room. Her mood changed in an instant, and she felt herself growing tranquil and relaxed. Gazing around, she decided the best way to describe the décor
was a blend of disordered comfort. A beautifully carved, but cluttered, writing desk and straight-back chair sat directly across from the door. Behind the desk was a battered yet intricately carved bureau chest. Off to the side was a wooden sofa upholstered in blue cut velvet brocade and strewn with plump colorful pillows.
A bookshelf in the corner contained a sizeable library of well-used tomes, and Kiernan walked toward it unsteadily to scan the titles on the spines. Among the collection, she found Manipulation of Magikal. Herbs, Dream Acumen, and The Prophetic Age. Scattered between the books was a variety of ritualistic items including mortar and pestle, crystals, pentacles, candles, a black onyx athame, pewter chalice, and even a cauldron. A garnet-topped staff leaned precariously against the shelves.
A true witch’s lair, she thought sardonically.
Turning, she spied a three-legged ornate censer vibrating softly on the corner of Gemini’s desk emitting a sweet smelling vapor into the air. The source of her artificial serenity, no doubt. Next to the censer was an open, velvet-lined box with a large array of gemstones.
Gemini spoke, interrupting her perusal. “My apologies, Kiernan, for the last time we met. But, using your own words, you left me no other choice.”
Kiernan pointed to the censer. “Turn this off. I like to have my wits about me when I face my enemies.”
Gemini smiled indulgently and walked over to pull the rosewood incense stick from the censer and ground it into the sand on the bottom. “Sit down, Kiernan,” she said pointing to the velvet couch. “Let me explain.”
Kiernan reluctantly sat down. “Explain first why you kidnapped me and why I am not free to leave. If your answer satisfies me, we might have something to talk about. If not, sorcery or no, get out of my way, because I am leaving.”
Gemini clapped her hands in delight, her blue eyes twinkling. “My, my, they say that Princesses are born, not made, and you certainly give truth to that adage. Although you have not been a Princess for many years, you certainly still act like one.”
Kiernan scowled. “I act like a person who is being held against her will!”
“Where is your Draca Cat?” Gemini asked, startling her.
“How do you know about him?”
“The bond between your female ancestors and the Draca Cats goes back many, many years. A Kenley should never be without the protection of her Draca Cat.”
When Kiernan was silent Gemini sat down next to her. “First, let me explain who we are.”
“Sorceresses,” pronounced Kiernan evenly as if she had met them every day.
“Yes. I have been rescuing female shifters from the dreadful fate of exile in Pyraan for years. Without the benefit of training in the art of the metamagics as a shifter, the girls are taught instead the use of gemstones in sorcery. Just like mind, body, fire and earth, gems contain an enormous amount of energy that we use for healing, divination, spell casting, and combat, just to name a few applications. Each gem has its own unique purpose in witchcraft, and we study them all here.”
Kiernan was shocked. “That explains why we saw so few girls coming to Pyraan.”
“It explains some of it, certainly, but we only have a little over four hundred girls and women here in Elloree. There should be more.”
Kiernan was fascinated now. Four hundred shifters in Iserlohn? Untrained shifters, but shifters nonetheless. Kiernan felt her heart soar. “How do you find the girls?”
“Actually, they find us. Our vocation here is not entirely clandestine. People talk. When parents are faced with a daughter’s shifting abilities, the first thing they think about is how to keep their child from exile, so they bring them here and we care for them and train them.”
Kiernan’s eyebrow raised in question. “You mean you teach them magic?”
Gemini looked at Kiernan as if she was daft. “Of course! We are magical beings are we not? Did you not learn to use your craft at the Parsis Academy in Pyraan?”
“Well, yes, but only because we were required to use shifting to protect the lands. We did not use it in everyday life.”
Gemini shook her head in disgust. “Bah! Why not? Don’t tell me you subscribe to the archaic and ridiculous notion that having magical ability means you are defective in some way?” The sorceress rose to her feet. “What a waste! All these years of exiling and subjugating people solely because of a gift they possess. A gift that can heal and create and, yes, to defend if necessary.”
Kiernan felt that same way and gave much of this same speech to Beck during Homage Festival, which seemed so long ago now.
Gemini was still raving. “And to think, this all started because of an oath my absurd brother took!”
Kiernan snapped her head up. “Brother?”
“Yes, my dear. My full name is Gemini Starr, sister of that idiot, Galen Starr.”
Uncomfortable, Kiernan said, “Did you know that….?”
She waved a hand in the air. “Yes, I do know that my brother has passed. A Pigeon sent me a message from Nysa several days ago.” She shrugged. “I have not seen Galen since he took the oath. I concealed myself from him because I knew that if he found this coven, he would have commanded us all to exile. He would have had no other choice because of the oath. I am certain he heard of my activities, but this palace is bespelled with an invisibility veil that affected only my brother. Exile was an area in which we most definitely did not see eye to eye.”
Kiernan felt like she had to defend the dead Mage. “I agree with you that shifters do not deserve to be exiled, but Galen did a lot of good and it all came from his desire to protect this land and its people.”
Gemini smiled. “Yes he did, and that was his biggest flaw. He was not objective about the situation. He felt so responsible for the Mage War that I think he would have agreed to anything back then.”
“You were there?”
She laughed and the sound reverberated throughout the room. “Yes. I was a few years younger than Galen and, before you ask the next question, yes, he did share one of his Mage secrets with me, the Lifefire Tonic.” Gemini walked over to the chaotic bookcase and, after moving several items out of her way, pulled forth a vial that swirled with a red mist. “While not immortal, I have had prolonged existence in this world through regular use of this tonic. However, I have not, and will not, share it with any other person. I gave my word.”
Gemini returned the tonic to its rightful place and, though her movements appeared uncomplicated, Kiernan felt confident that nobody would ever be able to retrieve that vial except the sorceress herself.
Kiernan was curious about something. “As a shifter then, do you not feel the pull of the blood oath?”
She shook her head. “No, because I have not been marked.” She pointed to the tattoo on Kiernan’s neck. “The mark of the athame unleashes a very powerful energy into the body—into the soul—that binds the oath.”
Princess!
Kiernan flinched at the unexpected shout in her mind. It was Bajan.
Princess can you hear me? Beck is searching for you. Tell me where you are so we can come get you!
Kiernan snorted. Beck? The same Beck who thought it was more important to kiss another woman instead of finding Airron so they could continue their mission?
Princess!
Kiernan clamped her mind shut. She was not yet ready to go back. She had more to learn.
“Tell me about my mother and our bond with the Draca Cats.”
Airron decided that the Elves of Massa were the most decorous race he had ever met. A very reserved people, the dockworkers went about their tasks assiduously with very little engagement in casual conversation.
What few he encountered anyway.
He was surprised to find that Havenport was not a city at all. It was a wharf with two wooden docks and a few merchant shops and bungalows that butted up hard against the Puu Rainforest. The villages of Haventhal, he was told, lay beyond the towering trees. Airron gazed toward them wistfully. He had extended family somewhere within that f
orest, but he did not know their names or how to find them. Maybe someday he might get the chance to search them out, but not today, not now.
Without the comfort of an inn in Havenport, Airron, Rory and Bret Schwan were forced to spend their first night in Haventhal in their bedrolls outside of the rainforest. The plan was to purchase supplies at one of the dockside shops in the morning and then Airron and Rory would continue their journey to Sarphia while Bret returned to Iserport.
Airron was the first to wake the following morning and hurriedly set off for the wharf, anxious to spend time talking with the Elves. He was about to pull up his hood when he realized with satisfaction that it was unnecessary. The combination of silver hair and purple eyes so unique in other parts of Massa would be unexceptional here.
A slight wind picked up as he made his way across the open grassy knoll between the docks and the Puu. All was quiet except the gentle sound of the waves lapping against the shore. He did not see any of the Elves as he approached the small road that fronted the shops. Havenport looked deserted. Trying doors, he was surprised to find them all closed for business and locked up tight.
He tilted his head as a muffled sound flowed to him on the breeze. It sounded like singing. Walking further down the road, he saw them then. All of the Havenport Elves were down by the lake standing in a circle with their palms pressed together with the person on either side and held vertically, fingertips pointed toward the sky. Their lips moved in unison to the words of a chant, the cadence in their upraised voices captivating, the lyrics poignant. The grief that Airron carried around with him like a lead weight since the destruction of Pyraan, seemed to lighten with each word. Sorrow was replaced with thoughts of joy as he watched the Elves gesticulate in prayer, faces bathed in rapture and silver silken strands floating in the wind.
Suddenly feeling somewhat of an interloper intruding on a private ritual, he reluctantly backed away silently and returned to the docks to wait.
The Elves returned to their duties several moments later. One of the dockworkers Airron had met the previous day approached him. His name was Loren and he walked with an elegantly powerful grace. “Asha, brother,” he said and clasped forearms with Airron in the traditional Elven welcome. “If you plan to stay in Haventhal, you cannot miss the Morning Song to Elán.”
Island Shifters: Book 01 - An Oath of the Blood Page 24