“Stand back, Kiernan,” said a voice behind her. “Leave this one to me.”
Kiernan turned in surprise.
It was Sapphire.
The dark-haired sorceress held her hand out toward Eden.
“Bindeno!”
Had the spell worked, it would have glued Eden’s arms and legs tightly to her body, but the sorceress was able to issue a counterspell that deflected the curse.
Kiernan peeked into the room while the two witches circled each other. “Stay inside!” she ordered.
Sapphire looked at Eden with indescribable disappointment in her eyes. “You are my sister, Eden. You took a vow to protect and defend the coven. What would make you cast aside your oath?”
Eden did not answer. Instead, she tried to cast another spell, but she was dealing with the Sect Leader of Spell Casting. She never had a chance. Sapphire countered the spell and rushed her, placing both hands on top of Eden’s head. “Morbendi.”
She said it softly, her voice laced with regret. It was a killing curse.
Gemini once told Kiernan that for a sorceress to take a human life, the spell required her to physically place her hands on the intended victim when uttering the incantation. Accidental killing was not possible—it had to be a very up close, very personal decision.
Eden slumped to the ground.
Sapphire turned to Kiernan and shook her head. “This was the first time I have ever had to use that curse and on a sister no less. Diamond had a feeling that a sorceress was involved in this mess so she sent me after you. However, that was all I had the authority to do. Now, that the threat of magic is over, the rest will be up to you.”
Kiernan nodded and without another word, Sapphire turned and went back through the door to the stairs to the servant quarters.
Her father walked out of his now doorless chambers, hurried over to her, and took her in his arms. He had a bloodied gash on the side of his head. “I was so worried for you.”
“Is everybody all right?” she asked.
He nodded and stepped back, and she saw Captain Bo Franck, Saber Ryan, Miss Belle, and Larkin step out of the room.
She quickly walked over to Miss Belle and Larkin. “The danger has not yet passed,” she told them tiredly. “Go to your rooms and hide there until the fighting is over. Quickly now.”
Miss Belle looked at her as if she were mad. “Like demon’s hell, child! I have lived in this city for more than sixty years, and I refuse to hide in my room while murderous thugs roam the streets. I still have a thing or two I can teach those ruffians! Come on, Larkin!” The stout woman hiked up the sides of her dress and ran down the corridor.
Larkin shrugged her shoulders with an excited grin and took off after her.
Kiernan watched them go in frustration. She turned back to Kirby. “We need to secure the castle. Preferably before those two women have a chance to get themselves killed.”
Captain Bo Franck spoke up. The scar he received in the Demon War created a jagged line from his temple to chin. “I will see to it, Your Grace. Come on, Ryan.” He paused. “I will keep an eye on old Belle, don’t you worry, girl.”
The two soldiers hurried off.
The clash of swords and shouts of fighting men echoed throughout the palace. Kiernan just hoped that the sounds meant that the Sabers had been successful in freeing the imprisoned legionnaires. If the Sabers were fighting alone, they would not stand a chance.
“We need to find Etin and put an end to this charade once and for all,” she told her father and Kirby.
“Your Graces!” A Saber skidded around a bend in the corridor and raced toward them. “Word has just reached the city.
Commander Hugo Bassus is dead! Lord Gregaros defeated Etin’s army on the plains near Janis!”
Kiernan let out a breath of relief. “Finally, some good news. Any word of Lord Etin?”
“In the midst of the diversions, he left Lady Conry by jumping out of the carriage and running this way toward the palace. I was tracking him, but he managed to slip away. He is in here somewhere. I am sure of it.”
Her father grabbed her arm. “I must go out into the city, Kiernan. It is imperative for morale that the troops and citizens see that I am freed.”
He was right. She nodded, and he turned to go. “Wait! You cannot go alone! Where is Captain Morel?”
The obsidian eyes glazed over. “Dead.” He turned and resumed his flight.
Kiernan looked over at the Saber that had joined them with news of Bassus. “You are now the King’s primary guard. Protect him with your life.”
He banged his fist to his chest. “On my oath as a Scarlet Saber, Your Grace,” he confirmed and was gone as well.
She had her own mission.
She was going hunting.
Hunting for a Lord.
The intense sting of Beck’s wounds from the whip and the rawness where the shackles cut into the skin of his wrists and ankles woke him with a start. He did not know how long he had been hanging against the cavern wall, but it felt like a lifetime. Every so often, he would drift into an exhausted slumber only to be awakened by the pain.
Almost worse than the pain was the image in Beck’s mind of the monster that Avalon Ravener had become.
He discovered that morning that she was still able to bodyshift and wanted nothing short of her death when she transformed into the figure of a young, dark-haired girl. Even though this girl was quite a few years older than his daughter, she reminded him of Kenley. Imagining Kenley in the hands of this creature that cared nothing for human life was more than he could endure.
When she reappeared, he would hand over The Protetor. He could stall no longer. If he gave Avalon the book she so desperately wanted, she would have no reason to go anywhere near Bardot. If it cost him his life, so be it.
Not for this first time, he wished that he had fulfilled the request of his grandfather and become a Mage. If he had, he would not be hanging here as helpless as an infant. Powerful as Avalon was, her witchcraft would have been no match for the sorcery of a Mage.
Thinking of what might have been, he slipped into sleep once again. When he awoke sometime later only to find himself still trapped in the same nightmare, he found that he could not breathe. He shrank back as the ceiling and walls of the cavern began to shift, closing in on him to crush his body in a vice of stone. Panting in terror, he felt like he was suffocating, and the walls continued to move steadily closer. Tears sprang to his eyes and he cried out in sheer helplessness.
“What is it?”
He physically recoiled at the voice, and then glanced down at the Cyman guard standing before him. The same guard who brought the whip against him. Was it yesterday? Or longer?
He looked back up. The walls had stopped moving and his fear was chased away by the guard’s presence.
“It was just a dream,” the Cyman assured him.
Beck nodded self-consciously and took a deep breath. It had seemed so real.
The kindness of the guard reminded him of Titus. The young Cyman he befriended in the Demon War spoke openly of the Cymans’ desperate quest for freedom and the torture they had to endure in Nordik. They viewed the Demon War as a chance at liberation from their evil oppressors and, for the survivors, that desire was realized.
“I do not suppose I could talk you into letting me go?” Beck asked with a shaky voice.
Another guard standing at the cavern entrance glanced his way, but the Cyman he addressed said nothing.
Feeling stronger, his curiosity got the better of him. “Tell me, Cyman, why you remain here on the island with Avalon Ravener instead of back with your own people in Nordik?”
The guard straightened. “What did you say?”
“Your people were freed at the end of the war, and they returned to your home. Why are you still here?”
“You are lyin’, earthshifter.”
Beck shook his head. “I am not, and I give you my word that if I live, I will personally escort you to a stronghold c
alled Northfort in northern Iserlohn where you will be able to secure passage back to Nordik.” Beck waited while the Cyman processed the information. “I do not even propose that you free me. All I ask is that when my friend arrives that you do not intervene. Allow him to fight the black witch without interference.”
Beck did not know what the Cyman’s answer would have been because Avalon sauntered into the main chamber in the form of the dark-haired girl. She stood directly in front of him and looked into his eyes. “Oh, dear. There it is again, earthshifter. That look of hope.” She shook her head as if he were a willful child that had deliberately disobeyed her. She looked over her shoulder. “Cyrus, you will whip this man twice a day, once in the morning and once in the evening. Without fail! Do you understand?”
The Cyman nodded. “Yes, Mistress.”
She turned back to him. “I have decided to leave for Bardot immediately after all. Before I go, I will cast an invisibility spell around the cave to make it impossible for your bodyshifter friend to find you until I return. If you must hope for anything, Prince Beck, hope that you were not lying to me when you said that The Protetor was in your office at the Academy.” Her cruel glare cut through him. “If it is not there, your wife will not survive my visit.”
Beck swallowed and said softly, “There is no need to travel to Bardot. I have The Protetor with me.”
Her dead eyes narrowed into razor sharp pinpoints. “Where?”
“In the back pocket of my trousers.”
She gestured to the Cyman called Cyrus, and the guard strode to him and turned his body on the chains to gain access to his pocket. Shooting pain flooded into his limbs and he gritted his teeth against the agony.
“I ‘ave it, Mistress,” the guard said and pulled out the small book.
“Bring it here,” she ordered.
She ripped the book from Cyrus’ outstretched hand and flipped through the pages. “Is this some kind of joke?”
“No.”
“There is nothing here! The pages are blank.”
“The book is bespelled and only I have the ability to read the pages.”
She glowered at him with an expression of such loathing that even the Cyman’s shrank back from her. She let out a primal scream. “You think you are so clever,” she spit at him, dribble flying from her mouth. “You are a pathetic, disgusting excuse for a man. Look at you, hanging there like a side of meat. Helpless! And, weak! How are you going to feel when I string up your wife the same way you are right now? I promise you this, earthshifter, I will not stop to eat or sleep or even blink an eye until she is dead! Are you feeling clever now, Prince Beck?”
Beck struggled wildly, but in vain, against his bonds. She was still going to travel to Bardot and kill his family! He screamed at her in fury, and she grabbed the whip from her guard and flicked the lethal tip toward his face. It struck him in the cheek and a line of blood dripped from the wound.
The time had come.
Lifting his hands in a summons, the mountain of rock Avalon called Farout Falls began to tremble. He would die his way, not hers!
Avalon shrieked as she tried to maintain her balance under the shifting floor beneath her.
All of a sudden, the Cyman who was on guard at the cave entrance flew back onto the ground with a groan.
“Hope I am not late.”
Beck whipped his head toward the entrance. Brighter than all of the angels from the Demon War combined, stood his smiling, silver-haired savior.
CHAPTER 16
A Colorful Revelation
Davad Etin raced along the passageway of the servant quarters frantic to find a place to hide, but every door was locked. Up ahead, he spotted one room with the door ajar, sprinted toward it and darted inside, but found the room filled with servants huddled together waiting out the battle for the city. The terrified faces peered up at him in shock, and he backed out hurriedly.
The sounds of combat drifted through the palace corridors, intensifying his panic. Finally, he found the last door in the corridor unlocked and quickly entered the small room. It was empty. He slammed the door closed behind him and threw the bolt.
Leaning back against the door, he clenched his fists. “Shut up!”
The voices would not stop! There were too many now and all talking at once! Pushing away from the door, he flung himself down on the narrow bed in the room and began to hum.
When had everything gone so wrong? One moment he was preparing to be crowned King of Iserlohn and the next, he was…planning a wedding?
Yes, the wedding was Ava’s idea and this is all her fault, one voice whispered insidiously.
Davad pounded his fist into his palm. That was his way out! He could blame this whole disaster on that cow, Ava Conry!
Now, you are thinking.
He stood and began to pace, still humming.
Yes, lay everything at Ava’s feet, and the King will forgive you, another voice encouraged.
He may even bestow a medal on you for thwarting her plans.
Do not forget Abram Winslow, one reminded.
True. Maximus no longer trusts his old friend.
These troublesome voices were finally talking sense. Maximus was a fair and compassionate King. Despite Davad’s crimes, if he played his cards right, he would be shown mercy, he was sure of it.
A soft knock on the door startled him and he let out a small scream. He looked around quickly for a window or door to escape through, but there was nothing.
“Mr. Black,” called a sharp, urgent voice from the other side. “Open the door. It’s me.”
Mr. Black?
Yes, that is you. Open the door to your ally, one of the voices ordered sternly.
The voice was right. Davad recognized now who it must be and sighed in relief. He hurried to the door and threw the bolt back. The tall man standing outside slipped in furtively and shut the door quietly behind him.
“Thank goodness you are here, Mr. Red.”
“What in the bloody hell happened, Black?” the man demanded.
Davad shook his head. “I don’t…I don’t know. Somehow, Gregaros must have taken the gates.”
Mr. Red shook his head. “No, Gregaros was never anywhere near the city, you fool. He was too busy engaging your army out on the battlefield. Mr. Blue was killed.”
Davad’s panic returned, and he reached around Mr. Red to open the door. “I don’t want to die! I am just going to have to throw myself on the mercy of the Court.”
Mr. Red grabbed his wrist in a steel grip. “You will do no such thing.”
“Ouch! You’re hurting me. Stop!” The man kept his arm lifted high, walked him back to the bed, and forced him to sit down.
Davad rubbed at his wrist, and a bit of his fiery spirit resurfaced. “Lay a hand on me again, and I will kill you, Red.” One look at the man’s face, however, made him back down quickly. “If you are so smart, what do you suggest?”
The man ran his hand through his hair in an agitated manner. “You really have screwed everything up, Mr. Black.”
“It is not too late, Red! We have thousands of soldiers in the city.”
“No, I am afraid that part of our plan is over. But, there is still a personal score that I must settle with the royal family.”
“What are you talking about? We still have a chance! Your presence here has convinced me of that!”
“Look at me,” Mr. Red commanded forcefully.
Davad lifted his eyes to the man’s gaze.
“You are a liability, Mr. Black.”
No!
Davad nodded his head and stood. “Yes, I am a liability.”
This man is dangerous! Turn away!
“You must die.”
No! He will kill us all! Turn away!
“Yes, I must die.”
Face slack, Davad Etin unsheathed the dagger with the eagle tip that he always wore at his hip. Taking the hilt in both hands, he held the dagger outstretched in front of him. At a small nod by Mr. Red and without the
slightest hesitation, he thrust the weapon forward and buried it into his chest, silencing the voices forever.
Kiernan and Kirby crept along the servant quarters in their hunt for Davad Etin. As of yet, there had been no sign of the spineless Lord.
Every door they checked in the silent corridor was locked.
“Your Grace!” whispered Kirby, and pointed to the last door on the right with his head. Kiernan rushed to his side and he twisted the knob to the door and charged inside, naked sword in hand. Kiernan stepped in after him.
She could not believe her eyes.
“Roman Traynor! What are you doing here? Is Beck with you?” she asked, hope flaring to life within her like a beacon.
Beck’s personal guard dropped to his knee and shook his head regretfully. “No, Your Grace. I stayed in Kondor for several days, but there was no word about Beck or Airron Falewir in that time. I thought I could be of more help here than sitting around in a Dwarven castle.”
Kiernan wanted to lash out at the Saber. Not because his actions were incorrect, but because the sight of Roman without Beck seemed to presage a permanent separation. As long as Roman was away searching for his charge, there was a chance. When Beck’s friend and protector had given up, what was left for Kiernan to hang on to?
“Please rise.”
“The good news is, Davad Etin is dead.” Roman stepped aside and revealed the Lord’s corpse on the floor, an eagle-tipped dagger protruding from his chest.
Kiernan bent down next to the body. It was hard to believe that the handsome Lord she had known all her life and who had shown so much promise at one time was dead. Although, Roman may have yielded the weapon, the man’s own greed and apparent mental illness had been his true killer. It was just unfortunate that so many innocent people had been sacrificed along the way.
She stood and turned back to the two men.
“When did you get here?” Kirby asked Roman. “I saw you briefly in Bardot before we left for Nysa, but did not get a chance to bring you in on our plans.”
Before Roman could answer, the clamor of a violent skirmish sounded outside of the room. The two men raced out, and Kiernan unsheathed her sword and followed.
Island Shifters: Book 02 - An Oath of the Mage Page 16