Enchanted Bookstore Legends (5-book complete epic fantasy romance box set)

by Marsha A. Moore

  Out of the corner of her eye, Cullen’s magic whipped past her shoulder and hit the demon’s tail with a clash.

  The eel-like dragon gave a loud groan, recoiled below, and pulled her down with him.

  Lyra took a big gulp of air before water covered her face.

  The creature dove far below into the cold depths, leaving a trail of blood. The light dimmed. It grew so dark she couldn’t see the demon, only felt it gripping her leg. She felt dizzy, and her pulse reverberated in her ears.

  Suddenly, her body drifted free—the sea creature let go. She kicked to propel herself to the surface. After only a few thrusts, her muscles knotted, frozen by the cold waters. She panicked and water rushed down her windpipe. She sank downward.

  Then, something touched her. Before she could see what it was, a chilling blackness crawled over her. Empty. Dark. Nothing.

  ***

  Lyra’s throat and lungs burned. She squinted in pain against the intense sunlight. Her sore limbs moved without her command as pain stabbed all over. She groaned and blinked, wildly struggling to focus.

  Underneath her swam thousands of tiny demons—a barge of horror. Where was the edge, so she could crawl off? Hope sank. She lay in the midst of a thirty foot mass. Those with teeth fought for space to bite her bare shoulders and calves. Fish in every color nipped at her flesh.

  She writhed with each bite. She fought back, kicked or wiggling away from the most ferocious, gaping mouths. She yelled for help, but only a squeak came from her fiery throat. The hem of her dress hung in bloody shreds and offered little protection for her legs.

  Not all looked like sea dwellers. Several mad dogs growled with drooling jowls and tore at each other in a territorial war. Looking closer, hundreds of small sucker-bearing creatures clung to her. Jellyfish fastened their tentacles onto her hair. Slugs, ranging from the size of a penny to a fist, oozed along every strip of fabric in her dress and vied for space on her skin. Their putrid stench turned her stomach.

  Dozens of bolts of power whipped through the air at this mass of evil life.

  Some of the creatures yelped in pain and submerged, only to be replaced by fresh, hungry demons. A pack of huge rats surfaced and crawled over the top of the heap toward her. Their wicked, beady eyes transfixed her. Over and between masses of entwined bodies, the rats persisted closer, gnashing their teeth in anticipation.

  Her heart thumped as though it wanted to leap out of her chest. “Help me!” Her voice rang louder.

  The lead rat was within a yard.

  A huge shadow fell over her. Lyra prayed it was an ally. A shrill screech pierced the air. A dark red fire drake lowered down, claws outstretched in her direction. From her Fantasy Literature courses, she knew fire drakes were evil, and this one surpassed the size range for his species. Her prayer unanswered, she prepared for certain death. He easily grabbed hold of her and lifted her off the mass.

  The rat leader clamped onto the shredded hem of her skirt and scampered up. A blue powerbolt immediately shot him dead. Was that Cullen’s blue magic? Her heart raced, but she couldn’t see him. Nothing hit the drake. Certainly Cullen would have aimed for the dragon.

  Lyra sailed through the air, held by steely talons. Dragons filled the sky. Three vivid blue ones sailed high overhead. Closer on her left flew a second trio, a green dragon led two small magma drakes, the color of molten lava.

  One of the magma drakes hurled fire toward the other group.

  The larger blues circled near, their single horns lowered and frilled ears pinned back. They flew fast and surrounded their attackers, but did not fire. Lyra breathed air permeated with ozone as they sailed past.

  A blue bolt from below hit her waist. Yet, instead of the expected pain, a filmy shield surrounded her.

  Suddenly, the green dragon exhaled an enormous cloud of gas, which was foiled by the barrier.

  The fire drake who carried her let out a wild roar along with a tremendous, far-reaching flame. His strike to the neck of the green left a gaping, charred wound and destroyed its spinal hornlets. Blood poured from the gash.

  The green howled and blasted the huge burgundy drake and Lyra with a thick vapor.

  The three blues retaliated, exhaling lightning directly at the green. They riddled its flank with deep burns, some exposing bone.

  The magma drakes shot flames in a fury of puffs, but their fire power fell short.

  The blues pummeled the attackers with a battery of bolts.

  In short time, the green darted out and retreated to land. The magma drakes, less fortunate, dropped from the sky. The Sea of Cogadh accepted their bodies; steam hissed and rose high above the water. The evil horde followed below and hungrily devoured the two bodies.

  Within moments, the burgundy drake lowered onto a rocky island and released Lyra from his talons. The beast landed a short distance away, soon followed by the blues.

  She slumped against the rock, extreme pain threatening her consciousness. The shield surrounding her dropped away, and Cullen and the others rushed to her side. “Lyra, don’t move!” he exclaimed.

  Tama curled against her side, raising his fur along with his large golden aura to enhance the effect. Lyra trembled, wet and cold in the chilled air, and was glad for his body heat.

  While she lay still, the sorcerer passed his hands slowly above every inch of her body, mending each injury. Miraculously, her wounds closed and the skin looked normal. Yet, he persisted over those same areas, his brow tortured into a series of wrinkles. Tears welled in his eyes. After several minutes, he seemed satisfied. “Now move carefully and tell me how you feel.”

  She moved her limbs with only slight pain. She struggled to sit up and grabbed her head. “My head is throbbing,” she choked on the words. “I’m very weak and my throat and lungs burn.”

  He sighed. “From the eel dragon’s strong dark power. The effects will wear off in time as I continue to apply healing. Being still somewhat mortal, you had many internal injuries, but your magus aura protected you. Otherwise, these wounds would have killed you.” He reached out and wrapped his arms around her.

  “Cullen,” she gasped between ragged breaths. “I don’t want to go on. I can’t.”

  “I know.” His head hung down. “I’ve failed you. Loving you baffles my wizardry.”

  From between the rocks, the voice of an old man called out, “Sire Drake! Welcome. After twenty-five years you’ve returned, just as I foretold, chased by demons to present me with the lady of your soul. Is this true?”

  Chapter Twenty: The Sage of the Isle of Lumen

  Leaning against a thick, gnarled limb as a walking stick, an elderly sage hobbled between the dragons, his worn, brown boots resonating against the stone. “Quite my day for company.” He chuckled and then continued. “Good to see you performing in fine form, Sire Oasth. I’m honored to have the Imperial Warlord on my island.” He rapped his staff against the drake’s flank and waved it in the directions of the blue threesome. His untrimmed white hair and beard fell to his waist. He dressed as an ascetic, favoring simplicity and functionality. He wore a knitted dark cap and leggings made of the same yarn. A coarsely woven gray tunic draped his thin form, loosely belted with a rough hank of rope. A charcoal cloak tied at his throat with another length.

  The fire drake leader turned his neck to look, then bowed his head low. “Greetings, Seer SciIti.”

  The wise man turned toward the couple. “My pleasure to meet you, Adalyra. Many have waited for your arrival. Sire Drake, do you have an answer to my question?”

  Cullen gently released Lyra and bowed. “My Seer. You seem in health. Yes, I have brought her, though it was not by design we stopped here.”

  The old man’s eyes shone brightly. “I do feel as sprightly as a young colt. Of course you didn’t intend, but did you not believe my vision, that fate would in some way bring you together to the Isle of Lumen?”

  The wizard looked away, avoiding the old man’s gaze.

  He shuffled nearer. “I sense yo
u are in turmoil.” He took Cullen’s hand into his, massaged the fingers to relax and spread them. Then he bent down, took Lyra’s hand, and did the same. She felt stillness pass over her as he kneaded her palm. He grasped her hand and reclaimed Cullen’s with his other, then closed his eyes. “Troubled minds. Grave danger ahead. My prediction remains true—you hold each other’s souls. Do not mistrust.” He released their hands and leaned hard against his staff, groaning to stand. “Sire Drake, I have come across something I need to give you. I’ve saved it for a few years, knowing you’d be back.” He walked toward a cave under an overhang of rock, turned back, and motioned with the limb. “Come.”

  “We only have a few minutes.” The wizard followed, with Kenzo and Noba flying beside their master.

  This broke up the group of guides. Bero and the squirrels visited with the dragons, while Tama remained against Lyra’s side.

  Her body, weakened from physical pain, urged her to give up and return to the safety of the cottage. But Cullen would die, along with hundreds of thousands of others, if the Alliance perished through actions of the Black Dragon. Her burden weighed like lead. She herself could be killed in this journey and never write the story to complete the quest. After the passing of her parents, death seemed real, not a distant mystery.

  Yet, she was sure life owed her some happy days before her end. Was this quest the right path for her? Was Cullen her soul mate as the seer claimed? He seemed equally frustrated by his new feelings for her, somehow unable to focus his powers as he usually would to detect danger. Could he embrace a life with love, where duty to his leadership was not always his first priority?

  These questions didn’t matter when obligation bound her. Lyra clenched her hand into a fist. She hated the word obligation. It formed the shaky foundation of her failed marriage. She wanted to scream and cry, let out her frustration, but didn’t want those who depended upon her to see her weakness. Fortunately, Cullen was busy with the wise man and didn’t seem to have read her mind. She took a deep breath to clear her thoughts as he stepped out to rejoin them.

  He stooped beside her and spoke in a quiet voice. “Lyra, I know you wish to quit, and I respect your decision. You suffered unthinkable pain. I apologize with all my heart. You may select our path to get off this island, either continue to the far shore under dominion of the Tortoise or return to that of the Unicorn. From either shore a Guardian can return you to the portal. I cannot transport you until you possess more magic. Oasth, our warlord, is only permitted to carry you when in direct danger.” He studied her eyes.

  After some time she said, “I’ve chosen in my heart. Let me see if the Phoenix flame agrees.” She took the glass orb pendant into her palm. “Lady of Peace, Guardian of Fire, please indicate the safest path for me.” The Phoenix tail feather inside sparked, then burst into flame, and pointed a beam toward the shore of the Tortoise. She smiled. “The Lady agrees with me.”

  Tama stirred from her side and placed his wet nose on her hand.

  Cullen sighed, obviously relieved with her choice. “Vilea tethered our boats on those rocks. Let’s be off.”

  “Sire Drake, I’ll escort you to the shore. I’m allowed that much,” Oasth said, lifting his tail and bending his knees to spring upward.

  “Hurray!” Kenzo called out and sailed down to the boats.

  Bero bleated a happy note and bounded from rock to rock.

  “Thank you, Sire Oasth,” Tama added and scampered after them with the pair of squirrels in tow.

  Cullen addressed the sage while he helped Lyra to her feet. “Seer SciIti, thank you once again. I’m never able to repay your kindness.”

  The elder waved his staff. “You can pay this old fool a visit I don’t expect.”

  “Not possible. You know everything.” The wizard laughed and gave a wave.

  Lyra hesitated, but gave a cautious wave goodbye.

  With Cullen’s arm steadying her waist, she reached the boats. Her legs wobbled under her weight. Grateful for a seat, she settled, and felt for the scrying stone. Luckily, the pocket of her skirt remained intact, the purse and stone safely inside it. Almost a miracle, since the hem of her gown lay in shreds.

  This time, Tama rode along in her boat. They cast off as before, with Vilea in command of the second canoe. Oasth leapt into the air and, with a couple of down strokes of his wide wings, circled the boats as they traveled. The blue dragons sailed around him.

  From Lyra’s position, neither shore could be viewed. For at least half an hour they rowed in quiet, with no danger in sight. The boats gained fantastic speed from simple rowing. She didn’t bother to ask questions, too weak to care. Her eyes grew heavy as her body called for rest. She scooted between the seats onto the floor of the boat and Tama curled next to her. Sleep fell upon her quickly.

  Dreams plagued her with vivid images. A scene unfolded where she was alone in the lair of the Black Dragon. She called to Cullen, but he didn’t answer. The beast cut her off from the only exit. Sunlight outside the mouth of the cave silhouetted his colossal form. He paced in front of the opening and panted small bursts of smoke. Behind, a cloaked man appeared with a small dog-like creature at his side. The bright backlight blocked her vision of his face, yet his large purple aura shone in full view. She flinched. His shoulders were broad and his heavy, carved staff bore a skull at its top. The cloak hem separated into moving tentacles. He spoke to the Black Dragon in a language she didn’t know. Then, the dragon lunged for her, teeth bared.

  Her eyes flew open and she jerked.

  Cullen rowed and chatted with Vilea, not noticing Lyra.

  She turned around to look for reassurance of a safer reality.

  Tama sat on the seat behind her. “Are you all right?”

  She wiped dampness from her forehead. “Just a bad dream.” She wondered what the dream meant. Cullen would never leave her in danger. Was that someone’s magic channeling into her mind? Elisabeth’s necklace should prevent that. Who was the man in her dream? With a wizard’s staff? A purple aura? Eburscon? She shuddered, thinking of Yasqu having to be with that man.

  Soon the distant shore came into view on the horizon. Minutes later, the two boats grounded on the beach. Oasth puffed a smoke cloud as a farewell and disappeared over the forest, along with his trio of assistants.

  Vilea steadied the boats and Lyra stepped out onto black sand. She leaned back in to gather her bag, and when she stood, the head of an enormous demon loomed over the craft. “Sea dragon!” she screamed.

  “Run onto the beach!” Cullen yelled.

  She ran as fast as she could. Bero, Tama, the squirrels, and Kenzo passed her, while Cullen kept pace. Where was Noba? She glanced over her shoulder.

  The gaping mouth of the sea dragon bit down, missing her by a couple feet. The teeth clashed together from the force of its bite. The beast growled. Unable to reach higher on shore, it violently waved its long, snake-like red neck, biting at anything in its path—including Noba.

  The tiny pseudodragon yelped and cried out, “Master, help!” The sea demon tossed him far out to sea.

  “Noba!” Cullen boomed over the water. In a flash, he turned back to Lyra. “Stay here! Do not go near the water.”

  She nodded. Her heart thudded in her chest, watching him wade into the surf.

  Vilea dove underwater. Kenzo flew over the water’s edge. Both called for the little dragon. The tiger owl combed the skies, surveying back and forth, his head down and talons outstretched.

  The sorcerer ran up and down the water’s edge, but to no avail.

  The other guides paced close to him.

  Lyra dared not tempt the evil beings who watched her every move. She traced a rut in the sand from a safe distance.

  After a few minutes, Cullen froze, his hands cupped to his ears. He yelled back up shore, “I hear him! He’s alive!” He clenched his fists and waded deeper into the water. Then, he dove out.

  Lyra dropped to her knees as if a knife suddenly stabbed her heart. Why did he risk hi
mself? Her gut knotted. The familiar was not a noble Guardian, council member, magus, or Scribe. Just a sweet, dedicated, simple-minded little guy, whose heart was bigger than his body. Moments passed like hours. She wanted Cullen back. Tears streamed from her eyes. She repeatedly blinked to keep focus on the water. No trace of them appeared. Only Kenzo, sailing back and forth.

  After several more minutes, reality hit—they might not return. Clarity rushed like a gale into her mind. His willingness to risk his life to save a simple being who meant everything to him told her what she wanted to know. She trusted him. She loved him. His heart, his character, his honor and loyalty would be enough to bridge the differences between his magic and her reality.

  She barely breathed. What if he died? She wanted to share a life with him…she couldn’t lose him now. Her body froze into a single focus on the water in front of her.

  A hand on her shoulder broke her concentration. A woman’s gentle voice spoke her name.

  Lyra jumped away, ready to defend herself.

  A tall, older lady bowed to her. Her gray hair knotted under a light blue headband. Over her silver gown, she draped a shawl patterned with enchanted golden stars which twinkled on a ground of pale blue. Rather than a wizard’s staff, she carried a wand with stars dangling from its tip. “I am sorceress and aide to the Guardian of the Water. My name is Mimio. I’m here to present you to my Guardian.” She lifted her arm to point attention to the giant Tortoise, slowly lumbering toward them. “He’s very old and, therefore, his pace is limited. Forgive him for that.”

  Lyra quickly bowed to each and called to the Tortoise, “We’re in urgent need of your help.” She ran up to him, dropped to her knees, and begged, “Sire Drake and his familiar are lost, just offshore. A sea dragon took the familiar, and Cullen followed to save him. Can you help? You are the Water Guardian. Please?”

  After noticing the entrance of the Guardian, the other guides gathered around them.

  The Tortoise grimaced and spoke with a raspy voice. “Adalyra, that is most horrible news. I welcome you, but I have no dominion over the Sea of Cogadh. No Guardian does. Sire Drake is the Imperial Sorcerer for good reason, and will likely find a way to safety. You must trust in that.”