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

by Marsha A. Moore

  Lyra felt for the girl’s pulse and any unusual energy patterns. “She’s fine. Nothing abnormal.”

  “Continue,” the Unicorn declared in a firm tone.

  Lyra wrapped an arm around Kessa.

  “Umm. Heilia’s emerald ring spoke to you. She will guide you. The crossed rock is in a pool of water covered by a silver haze. Behind the pool I see a large body of pearly water. That rock will make you well again.” Kessa smiled over her shoulder at Lyra.

  “We’re finished now. Let me have my kinchin.” Nillea wormed around the bodies and hoisted her daughter into her arms. Resting the child against one hip, the mother sped toward the stairs. She missed the first step and clutched the railing with her free hand to regain balance.

  Kenzo beat the others to follow, grasping Kessa by the shoulders.

  “Let go!” Nillea barked, swatting the owl away when she reached the bottom. Still holding her daughter, she scurried through the door before anyone could stop her.

  The Unicorn notified guards to follow and watch the pair. Back in the room, he said, “I think that mother has seen enough of us today. I’ll leave her to the guards.”

  The Tortoise extended his neck long. “It would be wise to allow her some time. She’s more protective than I expected. She even visited a Qumeli sibyl to cast a cloaking spell that hides her daughter’s aura.” He faced Lyra. “That crossed rock Kessa spoke of must be the Staurolite.”

  Lyra leaned against the edge of a table to steady her aching head from being jostled. “So Sorcha found the Staurolite but couldn’t use it. Did she have hair like mine? Yes, she did! Like in the image from the Spheres of Sidus and in Sorcha’s account of what happened at the evil tide pool.”

  “You’re right! Her pale braid dipped in the water of the enchanted pool,” Mimio replied with a grin, clasping her hands together in front of her.

  “The nearby enchanted pool of evil with the pearly water behind is the Sea of Cogadh,” the Tortoise added.

  “Why couldn’t Sorcha use the Staurolite?” Lyra asked.

  The Tortoise shook his head. “Some energy difference.”

  “I think it’s the same reason that you were gifted with one of each minor element stone—you have more quintessence.” The Unicorn strode past the front windows.

  Lyra opened Heilia’s jewel box and placed the emerald ring on her finger. Its green glow wrapped around her hand, then shot out in a south-easterly direction.

  He lifted his horn. “And we need to find a way through the fighting to where that beam leads—the Sea of Cogadh.”

  Chapter Eighteen: The Staurolite

  Lyra, the Unicorn, and the Tortoise assembled their group in the foyer of the lair.

  A trio of young guards, not a fighter among them, joined the group.

  The Tortoise looked at the juveniles and raised his brow.

  “These are the best sentries available,” the Unicorn explained. “All fighters are either out doing battle or sleeping after a hard patrol.

  Mimio lingered at the edge of the foyer to see them off. “Look!” She pointed to the sky behind them. The heat of the mid-day sun bore down upon a ragged-looking squadron returning to the lair.

  The blue fighters dropped onto the landing ledge. Some staggered into the foyer and grand hall beyond, while others fell from exhaustion and injuries where they touched down. The squadron appeared to be a combined group of the wounded from the two Lyra had fought alongside.

  Cullen gave a wave to Lyra from where he sat on the Imperial Dragon. Thankfully, they seemed to suffer only minor injuries. “We’re here to help care for the wounded, then return to battle.” The sorcerer jumped down as soon as the leader lowered his torso. In that position, the extended neck of the golden dragon revealed a long, oozing slash. Cullen strode to Lyra and Mimio. “There were too many seriously wounded for you two to mend. There are at least five who need urgent care.”

  Lyra looked at the Guardians on either side of her. “Our trip will have to wait a little while.” She rolled up her sleeves and joined Mimio, who was already mingling among the injured.

  “What trip is that?” the Imperial Dragon asked, his whiskers twitching and pupils flashing with specks of concerned yellow. “These skies cannot be more dangerous. Is the need dire?”

  “Did Lyra appeal to Kessa?” Cullen asked while treating a fractured hind limb of a nearby fighter.

  “Yes. She did,” the Unicorn replied. “And we learned that the Staurolite stone lies at the Sea of Cogadh. It will stop her painful vision.”

  The Tortoise extended his neck. “It’s the gem that bears an affinity for Lyra and her quintessence. I surmise from our studies that with it, she can control all the other keystones once they are found.”

  The leader nodded. “I needed that good news. That is a high priority, after these fighters’ lives are saved.” He lowered his head. “We lost two more.”

  “How are the villagers?” the Unicorn asked. “I left them with the Phoenix treating over five hundred for chlorine gas poisoning.”

  The Imperial Dragon stared at the sky beyond. “At least fifty children and elderly died from those fumes.”

  Lyra looked up from her healing work, and her hands froze when she heard the sad news.

  “Are you all right, dear?” Mimio called over to Lyra.

  She bit her lip and looked down, resuming her treatment.

  During the next hour, the three healers moved from dragon to dragon.

  Warlord Oasth and his squadron rallied into the grand hall, preparing to leave for their patrol. He and his blues conferenced with the Imperial Dragon at one side of the room.

  Mimio stood for a drink of water, her skirt stained with blood. “Lyra, stop now and go. I can finish treating the remaining wounded.”

  Cullen looked up from where he worked on the wingsail of a senior blue. “Lyra, I want to go with you and help.” He finished the last membrane repair and rose, arching backward to ease the stress in his body.

  “No. You planned to return to the battle. There are innocent people being killed. Go back to keep the others from harm.”

  “You’ll be in the open at the boundary of the Dark Realm, easily spotted. The risk is too great. I need to be there.”

  The arrival of another squadron interrupted their discussion.

  Yord strode inside from the landing area, winded and weary, but uninjured. He leaned close to Yasqu at his side and pointed him to where the leader stood with Oasth. Lyra was heartened to see them both in good health. Yord strolled around the grand hall, stopping now and then to offer kind words to the injured dragons, before he joined the discussion with the other squadron commanders.

  Lair guards bustled back and forth from the corridor, escorting fighters to sleeping quarters, bringing pails of water, and trays of bandages.

  Lyra glanced at the group of commanders as she moved from patient to patient. She couldn’t hear their words, but noticed many pointing to herself and Cullen. Finally the seriously injured all seemed stable, and she stood, rotating her spine to loosen the kinks.

  The Imperial Dragon led Oasth, Yord, and Yasqu in front of her as Cullen, Mimio, and the other two Guardians joined.

  A senior lair guard, the stern one who always stood post at the study, ran up to the leader, with Kenzo flying just behind. The guard bowed and said, “Pardon the interruption, Head Guardian. The mother and daughter mortals have sneaked past our guards while so many were coming and going. We’re presently searching the lair.”

  “I request permission to fly outside around the windows of the lair,” the owl asked.

  “Permission granted. I’ll send a small group of guards to help you, but cannot spare many,” the leader snapped.

  Kenzo sailed off, sweeping around dragons, until he soared through the foyer.

  The Imperial Dragon returned his attention to the group. “To best serve the safety of our people, Yord will take Sire Drake back to the battle at the Village, along with Oasth’s fresh fighters. Yasqu w
ill accompany them.”

  Cullen raised a hand to question. “I beg for your permission to accompany Lyra instead.”

  The leader shook his head. “Oasth and I, along with the Unicorn will take the Scribe to Cogadh. I feel this is safest for all concerned. The Tortoise will not join, as was originally planned. The Dark Realm’s attacks have increased, and his age limits his speed. We cannot spare a group of fighters to accompany us, but the warlord is fresh from rest and the Unicorn has been at ease here for hours. Sire Drake, your fighting power is unequaled. We cannot spare that unless your duties to heal the injured are a higher priority.”

  Cullen clenched a fist around his wizard’s staff.

  Lyra met his gaze, reading his tension and his fear. She melted into his open arms.

  He stroked her hair. I can feel the pain you carry. I’ll be listening for your life breath through our jadestones. Stay safe.

  Lyra blinked back tears and nodded. Me too for you. Keep yourself safe for me. They held each other tight, feeling their combined reverberations, both wishing for the moment to never end.

  Cullen pulled back, kissed her on the lips, gathered his riding cloak, and swiftly mounted Yord.

  The Unicorn lowered to his knees. “Lyra, since my flight is more agile, you are to ride me. This will better enable the dragons to be free to fight, which I cannot perform to their ability.”

  Mimio wrapped Lyra’s cloak around her shoulders. “Take care, my dear one.”

  The injured fighters lifted their heads to watch Lyra leave. Many tested their wounds, trying to join the outgoing. Bitter groans resounded in the huge stone gathering room.

  Their departure passed smoothly. No drakes monitored the exit of the lair, although a group dotted the southwestern sky above the Qumeli tribal grounds in the mountains. Still, Oasth circled around periodically, checking all angles of the sky.

  Lyra held the emerald ring steady, her hand balanced on the staff lying across her thigh. The emerald’s green light pointed straight ahead.

  After an hour, the outline of the northeastern forest of Silva Caliga reminded her of happier times. She recalled time spent at festivals and meals shining bright with lights of the friendly tree keepers. Scribe Nareene had saved those folk; it was now her time to save this land.

  With the gleam of the pearly waters of Cogadh in sight, Lyra spotted a team of fire and magma drakes along the Dark Realm’s border to the right. From far in the opposite direction came sounds of the ongoing fight above the Village in the Meadow.

  From her position, seated on the Unicorn who flew behind, she noticed Warlord Oasth pin back his ragged ears. The golden scales along the spine of the Imperial Dragon rhythmically lifted and flattened.

  Oasth led them into a descent, hovering in a forest glade.

  The Unicorn nodded and laid a protective ward like before. There they waited, silent and listening.

  Wing beats sounded, passing between them and the sea. When the noises diminished, Oasth motioned for them to rise.

  The Unicorn removed the ward, and they flew above the tree line once again. The black sand beach lay less than a quarter mile ahead.

  Lyra’s muscles twitched, and her head pounded with the incessant vision of the ruby. Her ribcage and diaphragm clamped tight against her lungs. She forced herself to inhale deeply. The emerald glowed brighter, sending a beam to one section of the shoreline. When Oasth circled back, she raised the ring.

  He nodded and followed the beam, leading them to land on the rock-littered black sand. As soon as his feet touched the ground, his eyes darted skyward toward the Dark Realm’s border less than three hundred yards away.

  After a nod from the Imperial Dragon, the Unicorn walked Lyra around a bend in the shoreline to an area of tide pools. Heilia’s emerald pointed to the largest of the marshes. Even without the gem’s direction, Lyra recognized it from Kessa’s description—the one covered by a silver haze. The Guardian stopped at its edge, and Lyra dismounted.

  She crept around the perimeter, searching for the Staurolite. The murky haze blocked her view.

  While she scanned the water, the Unicorn spread another, but smaller, ward over the two of them.

  In response, the water churned. “I can’t see anything at all now.” Lyra dropped to her knee. “The ward upset the magic here.”

  “It needs to be in place. Try once more.”

  Frustrated, she thrust her left hand with the emerald into the pool. Its green light illuminated a tangle of reeds at the bottom. Snakes swarmed and bit at the golden sapphire of her bloodswear ring. Lyra jerked her arm back and muffled a cry. Crawling and feeling the slimy bank below the waterline, she leaned against a boulder. Her fingers touched something hard. Although initially wedged tight, it loosened itself as if drawn to her hand. Instantly, the tormenting vision of the ruby ceased. Lyra smiled. She pulled the rock from the water—the Staurolite, its crystals aligned in a cross. Kessa had been right.

  A sudden shiver passed along Lyra’s skin. The waters of the sea lifted into white-capped waves, crashing against her and the Guardian. She stood and reached around his shoulder to brace herself.

  Dozens of serpents coiled out of the brink. The color of the water changed from a pearly essence of comingled good and evil to the inky hue of the Dark Realm. The beasts snapped at the Imperial Dragon and Warlord, who guided the fighting away from the shore.

  “Lyra, mount now,” the Unicorn directed her.

  As she flung a leg over his back, the eerie chill of an evil shadow fell across her.

  Above them flew three cimafa escorting the Black Dragon. An indigo haze followed them from the Dark Realm.

  On the lead stealth dragon rode Eburscon, his arm raised as he shouted orders.

  Lyra trembled.

  A soprano female voice called her from the sea in a melodious song.

  The trio of cimafa let out a chorus of grating screeches, but still Lyra heard the song.

  Panicked about taking her eyes off the four dragons above, Lyra briefly glanced at the origin of the voice—a water nymph. Like the magical image from Sorcha’s text, the woman’s long blue hair flowed past her hips, ending where scales began to cover her legs. She cupped a huge white pearl in her hands—the Pearl of Pendola. She bowed her head and extended it toward Lyra, violent waters threatening to drag the nymph’s body off the boulder where she perched. “Lady Scribe, I’ve answered your call.”

  The incoming dark sky and the pounding waves hampered Lyra’s vision.

  The Unicorn galloped into the churning surf toward the nymph. Waves crashed into him and he lifted into flight, hovering above the surface.

  Lyra clawed a handful of his mane, the Staurolite embedded against her palm. With her free hand, she reached toward the pearl as best she could.

  The Black Dragon spewed acid over them, burning Lyra’s eyes, skin, and lungs.

  The Unicorn withdrew several yards from the cloud, both he and Lyra coughing uncontrollably.

  Directly above the boulder, the Imperial Dragon charged into the circle of cimafa, his flames sweeping before him like a screen.

  One stealth dragon ascended with a limp tail.

  The dark leader pinned his ears back and extended his neck to its fullest length. His jaws opened wide, and he hurled a cloud of caustic gas over his opponent.

  The Imperial Dragon dropped back, hovering above the shore, his body trembling.

  The lead cimafa carrying Eburscon swept low. The alchemist glared at Lyra.

  Oasth left his fight with the sea monsters and dove after them, a second too late.

  Eburscon snatched the pearl from the nymph’s upturned hands.

  Lyra forced a powerball into her open palm. The film of the Unicorn’s ward caught her eye, and she paused.

  “Wait,” whispered the Guardian, his horn lowered, he touched the water at his feet. His white aura spilled into the sea, preventing the monsters from advancing toward the shore.

  Eburscon charged the dragon high, waving his prize
above his head.

  Oasth chased after them but retreated with the charge of the dark leader and a cimafa.

  The alchemist grinned at Lyra. “The Pearl of Pendola is mine! It will never fulfill its role with the Alliance’s other three keystones.”

  “Your battle is lost,” the Black Dragon roared at his opponent leader, spitting acid with each word. “Concede!”

  A small voice sounded low, directly in back of Lyra. “Let me in.”

  Lyra turned and jerked.

  Over her shoulder, Kenzo flapped his wings, his beak open and tongue panting.

  The Imperial Dragon sailed swiftly to hover at a position behind Lyra and the other Guardian. “We still possess more than you—our Scribe now has her guiding stone. We will not concede,” he bellowed and shared a spray of his fiery breath with the pair of cimafa and their leader.

  While the two leaders glared at each other, Lyra extended her hand and, with a mental incantation, cut a tiny hole in the ward.

  The owl slipped through, and she mended it before he could perch upon the Unicorn’s rump.

  The Black Dragon snarled. “You are incorrect! We hold more—your child seer is ours now.”

  “He’s right,” Kenzo called to the Imperial Dragon. “The Qumeli tribe took her prisoner.”

  Lyra swallowed hard. It shook her to know Kessa suffered for her magic…especially after her own promises that it would bring her friends and happiness. She had to make good on those promises. Kessa trusted her.

  “And she will be more than happy to help me gather the Emtori Ruby for my leader,” Eburscon let out a cackle. “Or perhaps, I will find all the keystones and empower my own quintessence, what little I have compared to the great Scribe. Unless, Lyra, you are willing to trade that Staurolite for the girl.”

  The Staurolite gripped itself to Lyra’s palm as much as she held to it. In the moment of tense stillness, all waiting for her reply, she realized a new vision behind her eyes, filled with strength and guidance—each of the four keystones balanced equally in pans of the Elementum Arcesso.