“The Stream of Omens speaks to us, revealing what is meant to be. That our powers, shown by our auras, are capable of joining, supporting, and strengthening each other.” He bent lower to nuzzle her neck.
“Does it tell the truth?” She tilted her head away, to encourage him. The slight stubble of his beard tickled her skin, leaving a trail of tingling flesh.
He murmured in her ear, “Some believe so. It has proved correct for me thus far.”
She assumed the prediction of the stream meant he’d be uniquely able to help her on the quest. Did it also indicate he’d become her partner in life? Only in this world or both? She wondered if a wizard could feel love. “What will happen to you if Dragonspeir is destroyed? Are you of this world or mine?”
“You are of this world too, Lyra.”
“But…your magic?”
He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. “I honestly don’t know how much of my magic is my own and how much is powered by the Imperial Alliance of this world.”
“So, if we fail, you may die?”
A splash of water from Taz chasing Tis startled them and broke the reflection.
The wizard reached in front of her, presenting a pewter cup. “Be assured, I will find a way to protect you.”
She gladly accepted and quenched her thirst. While he followed suit, Lyra stood and examined nearby flowers where the three fairies played.
They darted back and forth to the wizard, whispering in his ear.
He nodded and pointed in various directions.
Lyra couldn’t decide what he directed them to do.
One whorl of blossoms somehow noticed her presence and cast sprays of sparkles toward her. The vanilla scent wafted around her nose and drew her closer. Tempted, she reached her hand out to touch the flower, and fifty or so tiny clusters pulled closed before her fingers grazed their petals. When she withdrew, they reopened. If she leaned away, the whorl squirted its perfume far in her direction. Lyra laughed at its game.
“It seeks your attention,” Cullen chuckled. With a pocketknife he cut the elusive stem. The flower recoiled, clamping tight. He presented it to her. “Its behavior told me it belonged to you.”
“It isn’t much use now.”
“You are mistaken, my lady.” He grinned and gently took her hand. “Follow me.”
The sly look on his face piqued her interest. She followed him around a small stand of trees, their weeping branches heavy with sky blue blossoms. Within the secluded grove they stood facing each other.
He touched the clenched whorl on the back of her hand. To Lyra’s surprise, it opened and sprayed. The corners of his mouth drew into a wider grin as he trailed it along her bare shoulder, across the curve of her collar bone, causing her to shiver in delight. The flower obliged and scented her skin. He lifted strands of long, golden hair aside and continued, tickling the delicate skin along one side of her neck. Then, the tip of his tongue glided over the vanilla path.
She jumped slightly, moaned, and elongated her neck for him to caress. Her hands rested against his chest and traveled along the definitions of his firm muscles.
His tongue journeyed across her neck, jaw, and mouth. After a gentle brush, he parted her lips.
Lyra tasted the flower’s sweet vanilla from his kiss. In the next moment, she understood why he selected that blossom. A pleasant rush of electricity flooded her mind and heightened her senses. The feeling of his mouth on hers caused her entire body to tingle wildly.
He pulled her tight against him, thrusting his tongue inside for a deep kiss.
Lyra felt hardness in his groin pushing against her thigh. Cullen’s body, the vanilla taste and scent, his ragged breath and heartbeat, and her body’s reaction were all she perceived. She was wild with desire and her mind clouded with magic.
He pulled away, panting and trying to catch his breath. “I hear Bero calling. We must rejoin the group.”
“I don’t hear anything. Are you sure? Let’s stay.” She playfully covered his lips with butterfly kisses.
Cullen took her hands into his and smiled. “Yes, I’m sure. I’m a wizard, and my greater power allows me to be slightly less affected by the vanilla bluet’s spell. It was a treat to see how completely you became entranced.”
“Oh really? I think you were plenty affected.”
He laughed. “I certainly was, but owing to your charms and not of the flower.”
“You like being under my magic?” She grinned.
“Mmm. Definitely. Too much. With the effects of the vanilla, I think I was a bit too forward, so I beg your pardon.”
As he described his attraction to her, heat rose into Lyra’s cheeks. “No apology needed.”
“In that case…” He leaned in for one more quick taste of her lips. “We must go now. Don’t bring the bluet. We need to keep our heads about us.”
They fell in with the other members, lining up to proceed along the trail. The wizard opened his pack, and the sprites reluctantly crawled back inside. “If Kenzo can fly we could too…Back in the dark pack…We need to find an easier wizard to work for.”
Lyra laughed. “Grumbly bunch, aren’t they. At least they helped you find that enchanted flower.”
Cullen’s mouth curled into a devilish grin again, and he winked at her.
The silver owl sailed above, counting heads. Suddenly, he sneezed and a wing inadvertently collided with Cullen’s head.
“Hey! Watch where you’re flying, Kenzo.” He stepped aside from the massive wing, bumping into Lyra on his other side.
“So sorry, Master. Something twitched my nose. Hmm. I know what that something is! Do I detect an air of vanilla about the two of you?”
Lyra and Cullen looked at each other and smiled ear-to-ear, but said nothing.
“Ah-ha! Vanilla bluet—guilty!” Kenzo chortled all the way back to the front of the entourage.
***
Lyra still sensed the fading effects of the flower’s love spell and made certain to not hold Cullen’s hand, in order to keep alert. However, she smiled inside and daydreamed about how wonderful it felt in his embrace. She breathed deeply, now more at ease with her uncertainties about completing the quest.
The path took their group into a wood of squat, gnarly trees with spherical green and purple leaves, resembling Chinese lanterns. The light wind twirled the foliage around and caused it to whistle softly. The shade and breeze refreshed the exposed skin of Lyra’s face and shoulders, overly warm from the hike.
“That’s a lovely chorus with each leaf playing a different note,” she said.
Tama paused to study her and then replied, “It is now. You didn’t come here as a child did you? If so, you wouldn’t think the noise lovely.”
“I don’t remember this place, but many things take a while for me to recognize.”
Cullen stated, “No, I never brought you here.”
“Why not?”
He gave no answer and, instead, pointed his chin forward to proceed.
Their reactions caused Lyra’s pulse to quicken.
Soon, the forest grew denser, giving her an eerie foreboding. After about another mile, she knew what the fox meant. The wind, now much faster, spun the round leaves at an incredible pace, and their notes became unpleasant, high-pitched squeals. Traveling around a far bend, their whirling cries deafened. She placed her hands over her ears, yet the unrelenting din brought her so much pain that her stomach felt tied in knots.
Cullen briefly halted the group to wedge plugs of fabric from his pack into their ears.
Tis and Taz assisted others, their tiny hands very dexterous. They fought against the fierce wind to accomplish the task.
Once all were protected, they continued. The plugs eased Lyra’s pain for a short while. Soon, the din reached a piercing level. Her stomach convulsed, and she dropped to her knees.
Bero’s huge hoofs stopped beside her.
Cullen waved his staff across the back of the great buck and a saddle appeared. He helpe
d Lyra onto the seat and wrapped her arms around the stag’s thick neck. The wizard then motioned them onward.
Lyra floated on the edge of consciousness. She welcomed drifting away from the extreme pain, but fear pulled her back to reality, or some sense of reality in this strange world. Bero’s heavy footfall kept a rhythm. Steady, resolved, fearless. His gait comforted her, and she slipped into unconsciousness.
***
Cullen noticed her head drop limply onto the buck. In a flash, he moved a step closer and walked beside Lyra, keeping a firm hand on her, so she wouldn’t fall. His magically enhanced senses told him the pain had overtaken her, something he hadn’t expected. More mortal than the rest of their group, her scribal powers remained untapped. He needed to ensure no real damage would result, even though a spell would reveal their presence to forest dwellers. Moving his hand along her spine, he whispered, “Contego. Now you will be shielded from further harm, my lady. Rest with dreams more pleasant than what lies ahead.”
The band marched deeper into the wood. With his attention now fixed on Lyra’s well-being, the noise in the Screeching Forest seemed distant. Although the continuance of Dragonspeir’s Alliance depended upon the success of their mission, he now realized she was more important to him.
An unexpected question plagued him. If the land of the Imperial Dragon perished, could he still have a life with Lyra in their other world, even if only for a few decades? He hoped so, but there were many unknowns. How much did his magic depend upon the power of the Alliance? If he lost all, mortal death would certainly claim him quickly, being 220 years old. With that thought a shudder passed over him. In any case, he was unwilling to lose his lady. He readied his sorcerer’s staff to protect her.
Kenzo flew near, motioned a wing to the left and waited for approval.
Cullen nodded. He purposely had not told Lyra about this place or even its name. What her body endured here already was hardship enough without experiencing its inhabitants.
After a short while, the owl sailed up and pointed in two directions on the eastern side of the trail, in front and behind the group.
The wizard lifted his staff, alert to any movements in those areas. From this action, his companions knew to halt and prepare to fight. As council members, they all had experienced encounters with evil forces. Without command, they encircled the buck, still carrying Lyra.
A figure darted to Cullen’s left, barely visible in the corner of his eye. The wizard whipped around, staff pointed at the creature two hundred feet away. His heart pounded in his chest. To find one meant dozens hid among the trees. Only five seconds margin to strike. Those seconds passed like minutes.
A pair of beady red eyes stared at him from under shadows.
Magic enhanced Cullen’s sight. Viewing the worag’s vertically-slitted pupils made the wizard’s brow sweat. He swallowed hard. His chest swelled to propel the incantation that would initiate battle. A master of the first strike, he called forth a bolt of blue power from his staff a second before commanding, “Incutio!”
Decades of practice ensured a technique that caught the worag off guard. The flash hit the creature’s shoulder. He yelped in pain. Cullen intended to send only a threatening blow, hoping to get them to retreat. Protecting his precious charge meant moderation, using caution. The injury burst into a blue flame, which tore at the gray flesh, but went no deeper.
In seconds, a return bolt whizzed through the air aimed at Kenzo. The wizard grinned, knowing full well his owl made the most difficult target of them all. The crafty bird flew up with lightning speed, easily avoiding the danger by ten feet.
The injured worag held his palm upward. Abruptly, the leaves stilled and the deafening noise in the forest ceased. “Halt fire! Talk now.” He approached the travelers and paused at a distance of twenty-five feet.
This was too close for Cullen, who kept his staff aimed at the leader.
The wound on the worag’s shoulder now glowed with a blue-white brand in the shape of a phoenix. He held an axe in his clawed hand. Cullen had only seen those weapons spark magical bolts. They seemed functional for hand combat, but he never wanted to wrestle a worag. The leader stood eight feet tall even with their typical stooped posture. His wide frame was heavy with muscle and covered only with a crude, gray loin-cloth. Even his feet were bare, soles calloused thick and tough.
At least thirty other worags stood visible at positions next to trees along the outer edge of the trail.
The leader declared, “All die who pass through our forest.” He paused and his followers cheered and grunted, crazed for killing. “But, we must not kill these chosen ones, guiding the woman with golden hair. The Guardian of the Earth declared it to me today. He will destroy our forest if we fail.”
Another worag stepped forward, club raised ready for battle. “The Black Dragon can protect us. I say fight!”
The leader shot a red flash of power at the feet of his comrade. “Silence! The Black Dragon cannot yet control the Guardians. We face no choice. They must pass.”
The other grunted, “I hold to the Dark One. He will prevail with our help. Kill them!” The worags among the trees cheered him on, and he pumped his weapon in the air. The leader was losing ground.
With this unrest, Cullen planned his coming strike, to hit as many as possible.
His band poised to defend themselves.
Suddenly, hoof beats approached. In an instant, they drew so near that the air reverberated with their thunderous strikes against the ground. All heads turned to watch. Although already tremendous, as he charged up and halted before them, his silvery aura doubled his size. He snorted, and magic burst from his nostrils. He angrily kicked the ground and glared at all gathered.
“The Guardian of the Earth,” Cullen whispered while his companions bowed to the ground. Bero lowered his rack, and the wizard fell to his knees.
Lyra stirred next to him.
Chapter Eight: The Earth Guardian
Thunder sounded and Bero’s rough fur rubbed against Lyra’s cheek. And again…harder this time, jarring her whole body. Groggy, her eyes fluttered. Each time they opened, she glimpsed a different sight: a snorting white horse twice normal size; sparkling vapor shooting from its flared nostrils; a hoof pounding the dirt, shaking the ground like thunder. Fighting to keep her eyes open, curiosity won the battle. Finally able to take in the entire creature, she saw that a single horn grew from its forehead—the Unicorn who the Lady of Peace had instructed her to find.
She worked to lift her head for a better view. Her companions knelt before him. Beyond, many primitive, human-like beings lay prostrate. Who were they? They appeared dangerous—strong, carrying thick clubs. But, she knew the Guardian would keep her safe. The forest stood quiet, save for his blowing and snorting, which shot magic dust with each exhaled breath.
The last she remembered, her head felt like it would explode from noise of the spinning leaves.
The Unicorn approached and bowed his head before her, the end of the spiraled, silver horn passing inches from her arm.
Bero trembled under her.
“Welcome, Adalyra.” The Guardian’s voice rang deep and clear. “You have made safe passage through the Screeching Forest. Your guides did well. Thanks go to each.” He nodded to the small circle of friends. “I was concerned the auditory pain would cause injury. I detect the Imperial Sorcerer’s magical shielding.” He turned to Cullen. “A wise choice. You will be rewarded, Sire.”
The wizard stood and raised an open palm. “It is my honor to serve the Earth Guardian and to protect our Scribe.”
“Please now remove your protection. It impedes my communication with her.”
“Of course.” Cullen placed a hand lightly upon Lyra’s back and recited the reversal spell, “Abdo contego!”
It was easy for her to see the Unicorn commanded a different kind of respect than the Phoenix—fearful reverence. Kenzo and Tama moved neither feather nor hair to bicker in the presence of this Guardian. Lyra didn’t unders
tand their trepidation.
Compelled to touch the Unicorn, she slowly moved to dismount from Bero.
Cullen placed her arm over his shoulder and held her by the waist. “Easy now.”
The faintest whiff of vanilla about him brought a smile to her lips. She slipped a leg over the buck’s neck and slid down. Her legs wobbled under her weight, and she was glad for Cullen’s assistance. Lyra sensed the Earth Guardian’s magic and stretched her hand to him, eager to have his power touch her skin.
“You do not fear me. I feel the magic within your soul. You are indeed the new Scribe,” the Unicorn proclaimed. His words resounded off trees for several seconds.
The forest people collectively gasped and rose, looking at Lyra. Kenzo’s wings flapped across his breast while the other guides sat more upright, chests lifted proudly.
“Come closer, Lyra.”
She took a step nearer, but her legs buckled.
Cullen held tighter.
The Unicorn placed his whiskery nose into her hand. Her limp body responded to him, gaining strength. She stood solidly, amazed at his vast power channeling through her.
“The wizard’s shield blocked my initial attempt to mend you.” He lowered to the ground, folding his legs under him.
Instinctively she mounted the Unicorn’s wide back, and as she did his aura enlarged. Did hers combine with his? The white vapor tingled her exposed skin. Her hairs stood on end, and when she inhaled the mist, it tickled the inside of her nose. His coat was soft and smooth compared to Bero’s prickly hide.
As the Unicorn stood, Cullen grinned ear-to-ear, and their companions were no longer able to follow formality and restrain their happiness.
Kenzo cried out, “Hoot, hoot, hootie-hootie-hoot!”
The squirrels chattered and danced with Tama. Bero bleated in every direction, announcing the news. The sprites sneaked out of a tiny opening in the wizard’s pack and spun circles of blue magic around the Scribe.
Enchanted Bookstore Legends (5-book complete epic fantasy romance box set) Page 5