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

Page 24

by Valerie Zambito


  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.”

  “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’m 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 ancestors and Callyn-Rhe goes back many, many years. A Kenley should never be without the protection of her Draca Cat.”

  Kiernan finally sat and Gemini joined her.

  “First, let me explain who we are.”

  “Sorceresses,” Kiernan said 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 elemental magic 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 jaw dropped. “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.”

  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.”

  “You mean you teach them magic?”

  Gemini looked at Kiernan as if she were 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 didn’t use it in our everyday lives.”

  Gemini shook her head in disgust. “Bah! What rubbish! 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, defend if necessary.”

  Kiernan felt that same way and gave much of this same speech to Beck during the Homage Festival, which seemed a lifetime ago now.

  “And to think,” Gemini raged, “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.”

  “Did you know that…?”

  She waved a hand in the air. “Yes, I do know that my brother has passed.” She shrugged. “I hadn’t 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 wouldn’t have had a choice because of the oath. Of course, I’m certain he heard of my activities, but this palace is bespelled with an invisibility veil that affected only him. Yes, I loved him, but 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 don’t 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 wasn’t 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 several 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 no one 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 haven’t 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.”

  Fascinated now, Kiernan thirsted for more. “Tell me everything you know, Gemini. Starting with my mother and our bond with the Draca Cats.”

  Chapter 27

  Old Grudges

  “You are one strange Dwarf,” commented one of Rogan’s escorts with a long red beard while dragging him to his feet from out of the bottom of the skiff.

  Rogan couldn’t decide whether his earlier hysteria sprang from the stress of the situation or the irony at being freed from exile at last only to be arrested and thrown face first into a boat. Whatever the case, it had taken two days to navigate the Koda River, and Rogan was stone cold sober now. But, with his disheveled clothing and matted hair, he knew he probably looked like the demented creature they thought him to be.

  “I want to see the King,” he said hoarsely.

  Redbeard laughed. “Oh, yes, and I want to date the Princess of Men.”

  “She’s already taken.”

  The soldier looked at him askance and then shook his head. “I’m afraid it’s the dungeons for you, my friend.”

  “Nice homecoming,” he snorted to himself as they walked down yet another stone dock, all the while wondering if the Dwarves harbored some deep-seated resentment against wood.

  In the comfortably cool morning hour, citizens paid little mind to the soldiers, and contentedly went about their business without a hint of the danger that loomed. Rogan wasn’t sure of the name of this riverside city, but knew that Kondor was located some distance away still on the eastern border of Deepstone. Somehow, he had to find a way to convince the soldiers on the journey to give him an audience with the King. I will protect the Dwarves from Adrian Ravener whether they wish it or not!

  “Homecoming?” asked the other soldier who had not yet spoken. He had a light brown beard that just dusted his chin, which meant he was close to Rogan’s age. “I thought you were a shifter born in Pyraan?”

  Rogan shook his head. “I was born in Kondor and then exiled when I was six years old. At least that’s what I’ve always been told.”

  The soldier stopped in his tracks. “What is your name?”

  “Radek. Rogan Radek.”

  The young soldier sucked in a breath and glanced at his partner. “Maybe we ought to bring him to the King after all.”

  “Yes, you should!” Rogan said trying to shrug off his captors. “In my pack, you will see that I carry a Decree of Purpose that will authenticate my need to see King Rik.”

  Redbeard untied Rogan’s hands just long enough to strip him of his pack. The Dwarf pulled out the decree and read throug
h it carefully. “Wait here,” he said to his companion. “I’ll arrange for horses and dispatch a messenger ahead of us with this,” he said, holding up the decree.

  The younger Dwarf nodded and led Rogan to a stone bench at the edge of a small square, gesturing for him to sit. “I thought you were dead.”

  “Dead? You recognize my name?”

  “Of course. You don’t remember me?”

  Rogan shook his head. “Sorry, no.”

  “I’m Dillon Hamderk. We were friends. Good friends. We lived next door to each other.”

  The thumping in Rogan’s chest sounded loud in his ears. “Do…” Oh, Dear Highworld. “Do…my parents still live next to you?” he asked and held his breath as he waited for Dillon to respond.

  Dillon lowered his head. “No, I’m sorry. They died many years ago.”

  Rogan felt like someone had just rammed a wooden club into his abdomen, and he fell back onto the hard bench. Just like that, his search had come to an abrupt end. All those years of wondering what his parents were like. All that time fantasizing about a reunion in which his parents would gather him in their arms and tell him how much they missed and loved him. With a few short words, his dream had ended and there was no family standing at the end of it.

  He turned his head so Dillon wouldn’t see the tears that welled in his eyes. He wondered why he didn’t remember Dillon when the young Dwarf so clearly remembered him. “Did I have any siblings?” he managed to croak out, his face still averted.

  “Not that I am aware of.”

  “Who lives in the house now?”

  “No one. No one has lived there since your parents died.”

  Rogan knew he was taking a risk, but had little choice in the matter. Dillon was his only potential ally in this land. He lifted his head to look the soldier in the eyes. “If we were once good friends as you have just told me, then I should be able to trust you.”

  “You can. I swear it on my life.”

  Rogan breathed out a sigh of relief. “I need to see if any of my parents’ belongings are still in that house. I’m looking for a pendant that I must retrieve without fail.”

  “I’ll see what I can do, but I’m sure that once the King hears what you have to say, he will release you from detention and you can search for yourself. I’ll guide you there if you like.”

  “I would. Thank you, Dillon.” He cracked a smile. “I wish I could remember more about our friendship.”

  “Me, too.”

  ***

  A hard, three-day ride later over an otherworldly landscape of bare red rock, the city of Kondor appeared on the horizon. Rogan’s body ached in places he never knew existed and his throat grated from constant thirst. So much so that he almost cried in relief when the dust kicked up from the horses of their escort could be seen in the distance.

  “Who are they?” Rogan asked Dillon.

  “The King’s elite personal warriors.”

  They were outfitted in the same blue and maroon as Dillon and Redbeard except with the addition of black sashes tied at their waists. Without any conversation, the Fists came on fast and surrounded them, creating an impenetrable ring around their small party.

  They moved toward Kondor at a clipped pace now and within a short time, the stone palace of the King of Dwarves came into view. Crossing beneath a portcullis into the courtyard of the castle, Rogan took notice of the soldiers standing on the wall above warily watching his progress.

  They’re afraid of me.

  Servants scattered out of the way of the imposing entourage as they dismounted, and the Fists led the way promptly up the palace stairs. Rogan didn’t have time to blink as he was ushered directly into a great hall where King Rik Rojin stood waiting near his throne.

  Rogan skipped a step, momentarily taken aback at the naked hatred burning in the King’s eyes.

  Taller than any other Dwarf Rogan had ever seen, he had a long, flowing white beard that he wore gathered at the middle with a gold and ruby clasp. A simple gold circlet sat regally upon his head.

  Dillon and Redbeard released their hold on Rogan’s arm and went to stand with the Iron Fists who had spread out efficiently throughout the chamber.

  Rogan walked forward, hands still bound, and dropped to his knee in front of the King. “Your Grace.”

  “What are you doing in my land, shifter?” the King growled, malice rolling off him in waves that seemed strong enough to physically sweep Rogan from the room. The King held the decree limply in his right hand.

  “I have just come from Iserlohn—”

  “The affairs of Iserlohn do not concern me,” interrupted the King, sitting down on his throne and tossing the parchment to the ground.

  “Your Grace!” Rogan cried in astonishment. “You don’t understand. The island has been invaded by the Mage, Adrian Ravener, who fled to the north at the end of the Mage War. He brings with him an army of thousands! If you don’t aid us in this fight, Ravener will make slaves of us all!”

  Rogan heard the Fists shuffle their feet behind him. Good! If the King chose to act irresponsibly, he needed the Dwarves to be witness to it.

  “I believe you exaggerate this Mage’s capabilities for your own purpose, shifter.”

  “And, what purpose would that be?” Rogan asked in bewilderment.

  “Your freedom.”

  Rogan couldn’t understand why this King was directing such loathing at him. Although they had never met, it felt extremely personal. “You are right, Your Grace, my freedom is something I desire, but I desire my life more.”

  The King turned away and waved his arm. “Escort this shifter to a cell.”

  When the Fists moved toward him, Rogan struggled to his feet. “My name is Rogan Radek, Your Grace. If you’re going to condemn an innocent man to imprisonment, you should know his name first!”

  The King turned back to look at him, eyes burning. “I know exactly who you are.”

  “How?” he demanded, impatient for answers. “Mage Starr was unable to tell me anything of my heritage on his deathbed. What can you tell me?”

  The King, for the first time, appeared disturbed. “Starr is dead?”

  “Yes.”

  “I thought that old buzzard would outlive me for sure.” The King appeared to be lost in his memories for a moment and then snapped his fingers. “Iron Fists! Take him out of here!”

  Without use of his hands, Rogan could only dive and roll out of the way of the advancing soldiers. “You can’t do this! Even if the Dwarves wish no part of this fight, I must continue on! I have been named Savitar!”

  Two Fists jumped on him.

  “If King Maximus wanted help from me,” the King bellowed, “he should have thought better of his choice of messenger!”

  “I don’t understand!” Rogan screamed. “Why do you hate me so? At least tell me that!” The King silently watched as the Fists wrestled him toward the door. “You are a coward, King Rik! A coward!”

  “Silence!” the King roared as he stood from his throne. “I am no coward, nephew. When your father, my brother, tried to flee with you when your vile shifting abilities were discovered, I made the most courageous decision of my life to save this land and my people. I killed him! My own brother! All because of you! Now get the bloody hell out of here before I kill you, too!”

  Chapter 28

  Ruminations

  Gemini Starr idly fingered the embossed hilt of the royal Sword of Iserlohn that lay on the bureau behind her desk. It had remained there untouched since Kiernan Everard surrendered it to her five days ago. The Princess had been with them almost five weeks now, and Gemini had spent the majority of that time indoctrinating Kiernan into the ways of the coven, instructing her on their core values, philosophies, hierarchy and the use of gemstones in sorcery.

  Gemini’s mother, also a sorceress, had taught her very early on about the extraordinary power contained in gemstones. Those early teachings were precisely why she founded the coven in Elloree after the Mage War against
the express wishes of her brother, Galen. She simply refused to sit back and do nothing while every shifter girl born on the island was flung into exile instead of being given a chance to hone and develop her unique talent. Because of their innate shifting capabilities, every woman in the coven had the gift of magic and so had the ability to work with the stones. Each “Gem,” as the women liked to refer to themselves, worked with one specific gemstone and directed the energy contained within to master a skill used in witchcraft.

  Gemini’s own daughter, Sapphire, worked with that most precious of all blue gemstones as it contained the metaphysical properties for her chosen craft of spell casting. Born Dayna Starr, her daughter was so Named when she achieved her position as Sect Leader. All the women who worked with sapphires to create spells answered to her daughter. When Sapphire died or could no longer hold her position for any reason, another woman from within the sect would then be raised up and Named Sapphire.

  Gemini continued to stroke Kiernan’s sword. The Princess is one of us now. As it should be.

  After Kiernan learned that her mother brought her to Elloree as a young girl in her desire that she one day become one of the Gems, the Princess began to succumb to Gemini’s persuasive reasoning. The rejection of her father and a quarrel with the young man she loved made it easy to manipulate the vulnerable Princess into shedding former ties and agreeing to join the coven. If a thread of guilt wormed its way into Gemini’s conscience, she quickly stamped it out. What she was doing was necessary. It was what Kiernan’s mother—Gemini’s dearest friend—wanted for her daughter, and she would fulfill that wish.

  She related to Kiernan how her mother paid a visit to the coven thirteen years ago with a young Kiernan in tow. As a descendant of the powerful original Savitar, Garret Kenley, Queen Grace knew it was inevitable that Kiernan would be a shifter, but she desperately wanted more time with her daughter. More time to instruct Kiernan in the nuances of magic and royalty and to impart the special wisdom that only a mother can provide during the journey to womanhood.

  Kiernan cried openly at that point, Gemini remembered.

  The Queen had been adamant that King Maximus not find out about Kiernan. Unbeknownst to anyone in Iserlohn, Grace herself was also a powerful mindshifter and when she arrived in Elloree with Kiernan, she reunited with her bonded Draca Cat, Moombai.

 

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