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

by Marsha A. Moore

  As he bowed before her, his gray braid fell forward with the weight of gemmed strands worked into the plait. “As you wish.” When he rose, the corners of his mouth curled.

  “Sire Eburscon, you’re looking handsome tonight,” a female called out.

  Lyra recognized the soft, melodic voice and eagerly looked to her right to see Mimio glide into their circle. Breaking all convention, Lyra opened her arms and embraced the sorceress who assisted the Tortoise Water Guardian. This lady deserved more gratitude than a bow. Her gift of one of the paired jadestones let Lyra save Cullen’s life when nearly drowned by a sea dragon. She also deserved her trust, and Lyra relaxed her guard. “I didn’t know you’d be here. Is the Tortoise with you?”

  Mimio gave a sweet laugh, not at all flustered by Lyra’s affection. The sorceress took a small step back and answered, “Yes, with his advanced age, magical transport proved arduous, but he insisted. Into Lyra’s ear, she whispered, “Your touch gave me the feeling something is unsettled. Are you all right?”

  Lyra shook her head, not wanting to explain details with so many people around.

  “We’ll have to talk soon. For now, do your best to enjoy the evening—it’s a lovely time.” Mimio gave Lyra’s hand a squeeze before she leaned away and continued a more open conversation. “All four Guardians are present inside. The Lady of Peace, our Phoenix Fire Guardian, is particularly delighted to be able to take shape in the community, now that you’ve brought us some happiness again.” Mimio also wore an embroidered gown, hers with golden stars set on a pale blue ground. Her gray hair was tucked neatly into a headband, adorned with a coronet of sky blue stars that sparkled with the light of her matching aura.

  “Your gown is so pretty, and I’m looking forward to talking with them again. I assume they will each teach me lessons. Will you? I really hope so.” Lyra worked to maintain a gay appearance, hoping none other than Mimio and Cullen could sense more.

  “If Sire Drake recommends me, I will gladly,” Mimio replied.

  The two women looked imploringly at Cullen.

  Cullen chuckled. “Well, I can see in those eyes there is a correct—”

  “Preposterous!” Eburscon interrupted. “Only members of the Alliance High Council and the four Guardians have been approved to train scribes throughout Dragonspeir’s history.”

  Cullen’s blue aura surged, and muscles of his hand tightened under Lyra’s fingers. “I’ll consult with the Imperial Dragon, but I do think Mimio could provide valuable lessons in mineralogy craft—her area of expertise.”

  Without another word, the alchemist stormed into the lair, his robes billowing and purple aura blazing wildly.

  Cullen took a breath, and his own aura reduced to a glowing outline of light. He held out an arm to each lady and smiled. “Shall we enter?”

  Lyra proudly accepted, as did Mimio, and together they strolled into the antechamber. Everything shimmered with lights and sparkling ice crystals, certainly created by magic since the air inside was warm. Lyra removed her gloves and cloak, fastening the jade brooch to the neckline of her bodice.

  With a wave of Cullen’s hand, their heavy outer garments vanished.

  The high stone walls were lit with tiered wrought iron sconces, each bearing dozens of candles. The metalwork captivated her, patterned into leaves detailed with veins and stems. Garlands of ivy touched with frostings of crystals draped the fixtures.

  Cullen leaned close. “Most inside are lesser wizards. It will be good to mingle with them before we meet with the Imperial Dragon. They may be able to help us.” He pointed his chin toward a congregation of mature residents dressed in fine robes or tunics, rather than woolen breeches and skirts of the mortals.

  “I’ve seen many of them…in the Meadow, during our victory celebration,” Lyra observed.

  “A dependable lot who maintain regular functions,” Cullen continued. “Some I trained with in basic lessons and some were my first teachers.”

  “Yes, many are close friends of mine,” Mimio added. Waving at ladies across the room, she dropped Cullen’s arm. “Thank you, Sire Drake and Lady Lyra. Please notify me of the leader’s decision about teaching.”

  Cullen nodded, and she joined the conversation of a nearby group.

  They continued through the crowd. All turned to gain a glimpse of the Scribe. Most were not born in time to see Brigid, who wrote the previous Book. Meeting a Scribe was an event.

  As they walked toward the group of wizards, Lyra’s boots padded over thick pile of patterned rugs, all in shades of blue. Where they entered the main hall, the ceiling vaulted beyond sight, draped with a shimmering mist. Sprites chattered and played hide and seek with each other, using the cloud to cover their sparkling trails. The festival was beautiful, but Lyra sensed the gaiety and opulence masked real danger and conspiracy for some present. There was a subtle, dark undercurrent energy present.

  “Welcome, lovely Lady Adalyra,” one white-haired wizard in the group called to her with an animated voice, his face beaming. He gave a sprightly bow. “I’m Wingold. We met in the Meadow when you returned from your venture into the dark lands. I’m glad you’re staying awhile this visit, so we can have a chance to know you better.”

  A broad sorceress pushed in front of him. “Stop flirting with our pretty Scribe, you old coot!”

  “We’ve been bonded for two centuries…at least I can look, can’t I?” he teased his wife.

  Her eyes twinkled, and she gave him a playful pat on his drooped shoulder.

  Lyra grinned, imagining she and Cullen might one day act like this, after being together over a hundred loving years. “Please call me Lyra.” Under her smile, she felt impatient to begin that life, tired of imagining.

  The plump sorceress reached out and touched her forearm. “Dear, we’re all eager to know you and help you. Certainly, you possess more power than any of us, but if we can be of aid, do ask.”

  “Yes, do!” another wizard added.

  “Thank you. I’m looking forward to knowing you all and learning what you do.”

  A slim woman on Lyra’s left joined the conversation. “I teach beginning power throwing. Many of us teach basic craft to those newly identified with an aura, whether animal or human. Others manage those magicals once they’re trained, like organizing fairies to work together on group tasks.” Lyra’s mind swam. What was power throwing, or anything these folk did? So much to learn. Would they take advantage of her if they realized her lack of skill? Perhaps some did already. She hoped her nervousness didn’t show.

  Cullen squeezed her hand at his elbow closer to his side and whispered. “You were born with these skills. It will only take minutes to learn to use them.”

  The elder wizard continued, “Well, my wife and I are in charge of alerting non-magical plants and animals of coming seasonal changes. We work together, but my specialty is winter and hers is summer.”

  “Is your supervisor, Symar, here tonight? I’d like to introduce him to Lyra,” Cullen asked.

  “Hmm. He was earlier.” Wingold craned his neck side to side. “If I see him, I’ll mention you to him. He’s likely to show up soon since food is being assembled on the buffet.”

  “Let’s pay a visit to the Guardians before the meal begins.” Cullen steered Lyra out of the gathering, into a wide corridor. They passed a line of workers carrying huge covered platters to a long table spanning an entire wall of the great room. Savory aromas filled the air. Nerves cramped Lyra’s stomach; she couldn’t imagine enjoying a feast.

  Guards approved their passage in the private study, and soon they stood before the magnificent golden dragon, the leader of Dragonspeir, the Guardian of Air. The other three Guardians of Fire, Earth, and Water joined them from where they relaxed around the room.

  Cullen and Lyra bowed low to each.

  “Lady Adalyra, welcome back. Please rise.” The leader bent his neck, so he spoke on their level. “It saddens me to learn of unfortunate matters surrounding your aunt’s death. However, I
’m glad for the occasion to begin your course of sorcery study earlier.”

  Lyra took a step closer to the Imperial Dragon. “Your Highness, doctors in my world could not logically explain what caused my aunt’s death. This leads me to believe she was killed by magical means. One of my goals in returning here is to learn who is behind these events and why. Do you have any information that might help me?”

  “Since Sire Drake informed me of initial suspicion contained in the healer’s letter, I’ve consulted my instruments. Many of those I will teach you how to use. But for now, the sum of my readings agreed with your conclusion.”

  Lyra kept her breath shallow, to be as quiet as possible in order to hear and observe every nuance of what he might say about the killer.

  “I’ve worked for weeks attempting to determine who was responsible. Obviously, one or more forces wish to overthrow my Alliance. Their darkness thwarts me; the more intent my efforts, the less my tools revealed. The only useful knowledge I discerned was the method needed to uncover the offender’s identity. Alas, I do not possess the required power to execute the procedure.”

  Lyra looked down to gain strength to overcome this disappointment. In an instant, her will renewed and she asked, “Doesn’t your power exceed all others?”

  “It does, but the magical language was specific to your lineage. Only you, Adalyra, will be able to gain the knowledge.”

  Heartened, she reached over and took hold of Cullen’s arm while keeping her gaze fixed on the leader. “How do I—”

  “Unfortunately, the necessary power far exceeds your current ability. It may take years of practice before you are capable.”

  The Phoenix flew closer. “I pledge to speed your process. I understand how you want closure on your dear aunt’s death.”

  “As do I. You’ve done much to help the Alliance. We will work to return your aid,” added the Unicorn Earth Guardian. He pounded a hoof against the stone and lowered his single horn to Lyra’s feet.

  “Mimio and I will do our utmost, dear.” The Tortoise lumbered up to rub his scaly head against her hand.

  “Perhaps, I can boost her strength,” Cullen suggested. “We did so to great effect, combining our powers, during battles in the Dark Realm last summer.”

  The Imperial Dragon nodded to each who spoke. “Thank you for your offer, Sire Drake. That is my exact hope.”

  “When do I begin my lessons?” Lyra asked eagerly, given one more reason to apply herself to learning Dragonspeir magic.

  The golden dragon laughed, snorting so hard that small puffs of smoke blew from his nostrils. “Report here tomorrow at midday. Now, let us celebrate the Winter Solstice.” He waved a wing toward the door.

  The Imperial Sorcerer and Scribe led the four Guardians of the Alliance down the corridor.

  At the end of the hall, Lyra felt a chill pass along her spine. She looked around and found a man staring at her from a shadowy nook. As his gaze held her, he planted his ornate staff with a skull radiating light from its black gemmed eyes. His essence intensified the sensation within her until she flinched.

  Reading her alarm, Cullen snapped his attention to her, but then only nodded to the man, without any concern.

  The man stepped out, dressed completely in the darkest gray tunic and pants. He brushed past her, not acknowledging the Guardians. The hem of his cloak danced magically about his heavy black boots.

  Beads of perspiration formed along Lyra’s upper lip. “Who was that?” she asked Cullen.

  It was impossible to hear his response above the din of cheers and roars of appreciation in the main hall.

  Chapter Five: Shadow Man

  A deep-voiced, navy buck bellowed, “Attention, please!” His words commanded attention and filled the hall. “I present to you the four Guardians of the Imperial Alliance of Dragonspeir.” Cheers rose, forcing him to pause. “Our golden leader, the Imperial Dragon, Guardian of Air.”

  The enormous dragon bent his neck into a graceful bow, and the crowd responded with a round of applause.

  Where was the mysterious man from the shadows of the corridor? Lyra felt obliged to watch the presentations, but couldn’t keep her eyes from darting around the edges of the hall.

  “It is my great privilege to introduce the longest serving member of the four Guardians, the Tortoise, our Water Guardian.”

  The elderly member slowly plodded into central view, enjoying the attention of the gathering.

  White wisps of the Unicorn’s massive aura spilled among the onlookers, well ahead of his first steps forward to be recognized.

  In one area, the vapor momentarily thinned and drew Lyra’s attention. The clearing exposed the face of the strange man. Brighter light of the hall accented stubble along his jaw, making his cheeks appear somewhat gaunt. His dark eyes flashed at her before he turned away. He stood tall with wide, angular shoulders. Again, his look brought Lyra an instant of painful delirium. This alarmed her; surrounded by unknown dangers, where Jean’s killer might lurk, she needed to command her wits and abilities with certainty.

  The buck’s voice was overpowered by cheering. He cleared his throat and began again, louder, “The powerful Unicorn—the Guardian of the Earth element.”

  Grateful for their appreciation, the Unicorn touched the tip of his glowing, spiraled horn to the floor and then withdrew.

  The Phoenix majestically glided high near the ceiling, and all eyes followed.

  From her long, gold tail feathers she sent out showers of sparks that floated through the air.

  A chorus of oohs and aahs resounded like voices of a choir.

  When the crowd quieted, the buck lifted his head. “And our Phoenix, the Lady of Peace and Guardian of Fire. She delights our Winter Solstice Festival with her phoenix dust.”

  The shimmering spheres cast an ethereal light. Magical gemstones captured the rays and illuminated from within. Cullen’s blue topaz and jadestone pulsed with soft light. Lyra lifted her own stones to see the effects. Her matching jade brooch looked the same, and her glass orb containing a phoenix flame blazed, as if answering the energy in air. Oddly, the black amber of her necklace appeared dull, like a bottomless hole, absorbing light. As she watched, fragments of other colors of light zipped into it and vanished. She nudged Cullen. “What’s happening to my black amber butterfly?”

  He examined it for a few minutes. Deep in thought, his staff twirled absently in his fingers. “It’s absorbing particles of dark magic, as it’s intended to do, but in the light of the Phoenix, those actions are visible.” He leaned closer and whispered in her ear, “The true question—where is the dark magic coming from?”

  Lyra frantically scanned the room. “What is the range of Elisabeth’s necklace?” she asked in a hushed voice.

  “It doesn’t pull magic from a set distance, as you are thinking. Instead, it annuls whatever approaches you. The sender can be far, if his or her power is great.”

  Lyra shuddered. People were actively sending dark magic at her, and they could be in that room or on the other side of Dragonspeir. She slowly looked from person to person, animal to animal, focusing on any being with an aura. She was relieved to know the necklace, belonging to her distant grandmother, did protect her.

  Throughout the hall, only a few members displayed glowing gems. The Guardians each wore a sapphire pendant that pulsated blue light in a rhythmic pattern, responding to the initial signal given from the gem worn by the Imperial Dragon. Cullen’s staff topped with a large sapphire behaved similarly.

  The leader resumed the central area. He looked regal with the edges of his gold scales reflecting the illumination of the phoenix dust. “Now it is my pleasure to call attention and give gratitude to members of my High Council.”

  When he stepped to the side, Lyra noticed Eburscon standing next to the shadow man. Covered in all types of purple jewels—amethyst, iolite, and others she didn’t know—the alchemist sparkled and gleamed like a chandelier. One of his rings and one stone in a pendant behaved differ
ently than the rest he wore. Light shot out of those two stones, directly at her. Her heart raced. She tried to watch the rays leave and then absorb into her black amber, but they traveled too fast. She grabbed Cullen’s arm. “Look! Some of Eburscon’s gems are firing at me. I think they’re being destroyed by my pendant.”

  His gaze locked onto his colleague. He spoke in a hushed voice, “You’re right! Purple light. Not blue of the Alliance, or red used by the dark forces. Curious. Keep this quiet. We need to investigate.”

  “The senior member of my staff—the illustrious alchemist, Sire Eburscon,” the golden dragon tipped his head as a signal to his advisor.

  The alchemist waved casually to the crowd, an aloof gesture. He didn’t seem to mind the lack of support, or even a few groans, from the crowd. As he turned toward the interior of the hall, the shadow man did also. Then, the phoenix dust caught a gem apparently hidden underneath his gray tunic. Purple slips of light shot from his chest, aimed at Lyra.

  “Cullen, that man—”

  The Head Guardian interrupted her. “Next, my talented Imperial Sorcerer, known to you all—Sire Cullen Drake. I honor you today, my friend.”

  Cullen bowed in four directions to show his respect to the residents. Men withdrew their hats and bowed low to show deeper appreciation. They clearly thought highly of him.

  Despite her fear, Lyra’s heart swelled with pride.

  When the attention shifted and the Imperial Dragon introduced his warlord, Oasth, Lyra latched onto Cullen’s arm. “That man beside Eburscon—who is he? Watch! His chest shoots purple light at me from a hidden pendant.”

  “His name is Symar. He isn’t governed by either leadership since his job is essential to all of Dragonspeir. He is a higher magical and his power is equal to mine or to Eburscon’s. His assignment is to guide the weather and regulate the seasons.”

  “Yes, there’s my boss you were asking for,” Wingold, the old wizard, added, overhearing Cullen’s remarks.

  Each Guardian drew attention to his or her assistants or councils. The Phoenix called Cullen forward again, as part of her staff.