Island Shifters - An Oath of the Blood (Book One)

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Island Shifters - An Oath of the Blood (Book One) Page 22

by Valerie Zambito


  Over the grunts and curses of his assailants, he heard the front doors crash open and saw through a gap in the legs surrounding him that it was Gage Gregaros with two Iserport soldiers.

  The men scattered at sight of them, and Beck staggered to his feet, his jaw and ribs aching painfully.

  “You all right?” Gage asked him, glancing down at Sully’s friend, still out cold on the floor.

  He nodded.

  One of the patrons pointed at Beck. “Arrest that man! He’s a shifter!”

  A soldier who looked vaguely familiar stepped forward. “King’s business,” he told the patron forcefully. “Go back to your drink.”

  Before Beck could say a word, he was whisked out of the tavern like a pile of garbage for the midden heap.

  His struggles were half-hearted. “Gage! I didn’t learn anything yet!”

  The Saber was furious. “What do you not understand about laying low, Atlan?”

  Beck attempted a few more protests but they were ignored, and he was dumped in his room in The Queen’s Lair with a command to stay put.

  Reluctantly, he did as instructed and that evening, he broke down, lying alone in the dark with his torturous thoughts. Whenever he considered that he may never see Kiernan again, his heart raced uncontrollably with panic and he had to take long, deep breaths to calm his mind. He wanted so badly to hold her again. They had only just discovered their feelings for each other and it seemed so unfair that they not be given the chance to build a life together.

  His stomach clenched as he imagined her in the hands of vicious and evil foes, berating himself ruthlessly for not shielding her from harm as he promised King Maximus and Captain Nash he would do. Kiernan had been right in all of her accusations. He was negligent and careless, and she was paying the price.

  He couldn’t help himself. He wept. He wept for the loss of his parents and home. His shifter friends. Titus. Galen Starr. But, mostly for Kiernan.

  The following day, a maid knocked on his door twice, once to clean his room and once to deliver food. He sent her away both times without opening the door.

  He spent another pain-filled night in his room, but with the rise of the sun on his seventh day in Iserport, he slowly climbed out of his depression. The light of the morning brought new hope to him, and he clawed for it, deciding he still had the will to fight. Still had faith that Kiernan would be found.

  He rose from his bed, washed at the basin and went downstairs. He found Gage Gregaros in the dining room eating alone at a table.

  Beck pulled out a chair and sat next to him. The Saber’s mouth tightened when he saw him, but said nothing and continued to eat.

  “I’m not going to apologize, Gage. I will do whatever I have to do to find Kiernan.”

  The Saber grunted.

  Beck tried for safer territory. “Is Bret back?”

  “No, but he should have been days ago. I’ve sent word to Captain Nash that he’s missing.”

  Another one of our party missing. Could they be related?

  Gage finally looked up from his plate. “We’ll find her,” he said, but the words no longer sounded as optimistic as Beck would have liked.

  Despite Beck’s exhaustion, the pair started out again, steering clear of The Rearing Horse. They searched long into the night without results, and it was well past midnight when Beck returned to his room and flopped down on the bed.

  Still, sleep didn’t come. His mind and heart raced in turmoil. It was apparent now that Kiernan had been kidnapped, but by who? Why? Did her captors know that she was the Princess of Iserlohn? Or could it be that Adrian Ravener was involved?

  Beck jumped off his bed, went to the window and threw open the shutters to breathe in the pungent night air. A few people were still on the move outside of the inn.

  A flash of motion suddenly caught his eye. He peered into the shadowy recesses of an alleyway across the street. That’s when he saw the glow of green eyes.

  Bajan!

  Beck waited for the stragglers to pass by, whistled softly and stepped back. In a streak of white, the Draca Cat bounded across the road and leapt into the second-story window.

  “Bajan, what are you doing here?” he asked, sticking his head out of the window to see if any bystander happened to witness the Draca Cat’s jump into the building.

  It looked clear, so he pulled back and shut the window.

  Bajan paced the room, his nose to the ground.

  “She’s gone, Bajan.”

  A distressed whine sounded low in his throat.

  “She needs our help. Do you think you can you track her?”

  The Draca Cat gave him a look that suggested he was an idiot. His optimism flared. “Come on then.”

  Together they went out into the hallway. Beck didn’t see anyone, but laughter drifted up from the dining area downstairs. He tried the door to Kiernan’s room. Finding it still locked, he smashed his fist straight through the wood and reached in to open the door from the inside.

  When he was sure no one had heard the splinter and crack of wood, he slipped inside.

  Except for Kiernan’s backpack and a few personal items on the table by the bed, the room was empty. Beck repacked her belongings and turned expectantly to Bajan.

  The Draca Cat had already honed in on Kiernan’s scent, and Beck cringed when he sprinted out into the hallway and raced down the stairs.

  A woman in the dining room 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 diners and out into the night. Beck held up his hands. “It’s all right! He is a Draca Cat and very friendly. Please! Don’t be afraid.”

  Beck ran out of the inn to catch up and located Bajan standing at the far end of the street. He sprinted toward him. “Have you found anything?”

  Bajan whined and circled the same location over and over. Beck could read the cat’s meaning easily. Kiernan’s trail ended right here in the middle of the street.

  She had disappeared into thin air after all.

  ***

  Kiernan slowly opened her eyes and regretted it when a sharp pain exploded inside her head. She shut them tight again to stop the throbbing, but it didn’t work to alleviate her pain.

  That one brief glimpse revealed to her that she wasn’t in her room at The Queen’s Lair, but in a room filled with white. White walls, white floor and a white coverlet thrown over her body.

  She turned over and cradled her head in agony.

  “I can help you,” said a female voice from the corner of the room.

  Kiernan flinched at the unexpected presence, but didn’t lift her head. “Then, help,” she croaked out.

  The woman approached the bed, and Kiernan felt the movement of the mattress as it sank under her weight. “My name is Helenite, and I am a healer.” The woman gently prodded Kiernan to turn over and pressed soft fingertips to her temples. Kiernan felt a strange tingle and her body stiffened in response.

  “What...?”

  “Quiet now, and let me finish here.”

  Helenite mumbled a few unfamiliar words over her, but all Kiernan cared about was that the pounding in her head seemed to be subsiding. When Helenite finally released her, Kiernan opened her eyes and sat up.

  The healer sitting next to her was exquisite. She had lovely almond-shaped eyes and full red lips. She wore her long brown hair pulled back into a single braid. A pale green satin gown revealed a generous amount of bosom.

  Kiernan self-consciously ran her fingers through her own tangled hair, feeling extremely dull and frumpy in the woman’s presence. “Where am I?”

  “The questions must wait until you are fully healed.” Helenite rose from the bed to leave.

  “Wait!” Kiernan said, grabbing the woman’s arm. “How did I get here? Where are my friends?”

  Helenite gave her an indulgent smile. “Everything will be made clear in time.”

&nb
sp; Kiernan started to get out of bed. “Yes, well, time is one thing that I don’t have.”

  “Stop that, young lady,” Helenite scolded, pushing her back down by her shoulders. “You must get your rest. You were quite distressed when we found you and now you need to recover.”

  “Found me? Helenite, just tell me where I am!”

  “You are home, Princess.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “Home?”

  “Yes, now close your eyes and rest. I’ll be back for you shortly.”

  The last thing Kiernan wanted to do was sleep, but after another mumbled word by Helenite, she felt her eyes grow heavy.

  When she awoke sometime later, she felt much stronger. From the bed, she again studied her surroundings. The furnishings were sparse, with a small table by her bedside holding a basin and pitcher and a wardrobe in the corner. She threw off the coverlet and the cool air that greeted her body told her she was quite naked. With cold pimples rising on her skin, she padded over to the wardrobe to see if her clothes were there.

  She found only a single garment inside—a beautifully-draped, silk ivory gown. Kiernan fingered the luxurious material and gasped in surprise. It was identical to one that had been owned by her mother. Seeing the gown uncapped a well of emotion and the memory of that day.

  Mother stood in front of her mirror twirling to get a view from every angle of the silk ivory gown she wore. “How do I look, Keke?”

  “Lovely, Maman.”

  “Do you really think so?” her mother asked again, nervously biting her lower lip.

  “Yes, Maman. Father always thinks you look beautiful.”

  At the mention of her father, her mother’s face grew melancholic. “He is a great man, Keke, remember that always.”

  “I will.”

  Her mother caught her eyes in the reflection in the mirror and held them. “But, you must never discuss your magic with him.”

  “I won’t, Maman. I’ll never tell anyone. I want to stay here with you.”

  “I want you to stay with me, too, darling,” she said with a smile and walked over to grasp Kiernan’s hands. “And I promise, someday soon you will be wearing a beautiful gown like this and a young Prince will ride up and sweep you away!”

  Her mother picked her up into the air and whirled her around the room as she giggled in delight.

  But, it would never turn out as her mother had promised. Her Prince had discarded her and her mother was dead. End of tale.

  A tear slipped from her eye. She hastily swept it away and slammed the wardrobe shut just as the door to her room opened.

  It was Helenite.

  The healer looked at Kiernan with a raised eyebrow. “As Princess, you are probably used to a handmaid, but we dress ourselves here.”

  Kiernan blushed. “No….no, I don’t need help. I was just looking for my dress.”

  “It’s being laundered. You can wear the one in the wardrobe. It is your size.”

  Kiernan opened the wardrobe door once again and stared at the gown wistfully for a moment. Finally, she removed the dress and stepped into it under the watchful eye of the reticent healer. She had to admit that the cool silk felt nice against her skin. The comfort of fresh clothes felt like an extravagance after so many days traveling.

  Helenite nodded in approval. “Come,” she said and walked out of the white room.

  Kiernan followed behind.

  The healer swayed seductively as she walked down the corridor, the green gown flowing attractively around her hips and legs. Who is this woman? There was no doubt in Kiernan’s mind that Helenite was able to command some form of magic, but how was that possible? She had always been led to believe that the island of Massa outside of Pyraan was chaste of magic. Yet there was the bodyshifter in Nysa, the mindshifter in Janis and now this mystical woman in front of me.

  Kiernan bit back her questions, realizing she would have to wait. Helenite said everything would be made clear. But when?

  The hallway they traveled led to a four-story foyer with a marble fountain in the center depicting a figure of a laughing young woman capturing in her hands the water that gushed up from the basin below. Something about the fountain seemed familiar to Kiernan, but she couldn’t imagine why that would be so.

  Helenite skirted the fountain and crossed the large chamber to a set of double doors located to the right of a grand staircase. The woman held open the door and pressed her hand to the small of Kiernan’s back to usher her inside. A loud voice boomed from the center of the room. “Welcome, Princess Kiernan!”

  Applause rang out from every direction.

  Kiernan flinched in shock and glanced hesitantly around a vast circular hall. Hundreds of people—all women, it appeared—stared down at her from balconies that edged four floors. Every woman present wore her hair in the same braided style as Helenite, and each gown was more exquisite than the next.

  A petite figure stood alone in the middle of the room. “Come,” she encouraged with her hands outstretched toward Kiernan. “My precious gem, you are home at last.”

  Kiernan looked back for Helenite, but the healer had disappeared. Annoyed with the lack of answers and feeling like she had no other choice, Kiernan strode toward the woman. “What is going on here? Why are you holding me prisoner?”

  The woman appeared to be twenty years older than Helenite, a thick braid of graying hair lying over one shoulder. The diminutive figure nodded in greeting. “I am Gemini and these,” she said loudly, her arms sweeping the room, “are more of my precious gems. Gems, let me introduce Princess Kiernan Grace Everard, the newest candidate for our coven!”

  Coven?

  Again, the women clapped enthusiastically.

  Kiernan leaned in close to Gemini. “Look,” she said in an urgent whisper, “I don’t know how I came to be here, but I really must leave at once.”

  Gemini peered at her closely and then reached out to touch her face. “You look so much like your mother.”

  Kiernan drew back from the touch. “You knew my mother?”

  “Yes, and I know you as well. You have been here before.” Without giving Kiernan a chance to respond, the woman stepped around her and once again addressed the audience. “As you all know, my Gems, it typically takes months of careful study to determine a woman’s stone. It is an intimate and personal bonding and many factors weigh into the decision before the appropriate placement can be made. A woman’s personality, physicality, magical prowess and desire all play a key role in the selection.”

  Excited murmurs drifted through the hall.

  “However, knowing what I do of Kiernan Everard, there can only be one suitable stone. I am pleased to pronounce that our newest Gem will train with…Citrine!”

  A woman with red hair let out an animated shout, and the women around her offered their congratulations.

  “Kiernan’s Friend of the Coven Ceremony will be held at next month’s gathering.”

  Kiernan glared at the older woman. “Now, wait just a minute—”

  Gemini lifted her hands. “Thank you all for coming out to greet Kiernan. You may now go back to your duties.”

  Kiernan watched as the lovely mob dispersed.

  Gemini reached for Kiernan’s hand. “We have much to discuss. Let us now retire to my rooms for a private conversation. Are you hungry?”

  Kiernan pulled her hand away. “No! I am not hungry.” She tilted her neck to expose her athame. “There’s been talk here that I won’t even pretend to understand, but I’m a shifter and one way or another, I’m leaving this place. Now, step aside.”

  “No.”

  “No?”

  “This is your home now, Princess, and the sooner you get used to that idea, the better it will be for you.”

  Kiernan distantly heard the murmur of Gemini’s spell a moment before she hit the ground.

  Chapter 25

  Dark Army

  Adrian Ravener paced his tent like a caged tiger, fed up with the heat and the endless leagues of sand t
hat ended up everywhere—in his bedding, his clothes and even in his food. If we don’t get out of these accursed Sandori Sands soon, there will be hell to pay.

  How he longed to travel through the green woods and highlands of Haventhal again. They were so close—he could see the forest edge just south of where they traveled—yet so far. Strategically, he knew that it was necessary to travel through the Sands. The Cymans with their Desert Troll heritage were at home here and moved quickly and efficiently over the land. It would have been nigh impossible to travel through the Du’Che with fifty thousand soldiers. Even so, magically veiling an army of this size was wearing on his mood as much, if not more, than the sand.

  The other advantage of traveling in the relative anonymity of the Sandori was the privacy it afforded him to test out his new powers. Galen Starr’s death made the attempt possible now, and he silently thanked his old mentor for his long overdue demise.

  Adrian glanced over at the young female Elf crouched in the corner of his tent. She is a feisty little thing. Even now, glaring at him with disdain from her lowly position on the floor.

  He did learn something new about the Elves of Massa since two of his soldiers captured this female and her male companion. It started when three enormous brown bears charged out of the Du’Che and tore apart twelve Cyman soldiers before they were able to be put down. Peculiarly, during the rampage the bears continued to try to advance toward the tents holding the two Elves despite the mortal injuries inflicted upon them. It took a considerable amount of interrogation to get the testimony, but it had been worth it. The male Elf finally admitted that he, and all the Elves in Massa, had an inborn nexus with nature’s beasts and could command them at their behest.

  Adrian found the news quite shocking. He knew that it couldn’t be mindshifting at work because animals just didn’t process thoughts the same way humans did. It is true that the Mages of old were able to communicate with the Draca Cats, but they were magical creatures, not wild animals. Is it shifting at all or an unknown form of sorcery? The boy didn’t know, and Adrian believed him. With the amount of stress put upon him, he would have said if he had known. Either way, it now required him to camouflage the army not just from the Elves, but from the animals of the Du’Che as well.

  He walked over to a table in his tent, poured himself a glass of spiced wine, and stared at his young captive. The army was halted for the evening and he was alone with her. Unfortunately, her male companion had not made it through the questioning. He succumbed to his injuries that very morning. It is just as well, Adrian thought, eyeing the girl appreciatively. She is only one that I need now. After centuries of looking upon Cyman women, the small, feminine body of this little Elf fascinated him with her silver hair falling in silken strands down to the small of her back. He licked his lips and set his wine glass down.

 

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