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

by Marsha A. Moore

  The pseudodragon hopped from the fence to Cullen’s wristlet. “Noba wanted to go with Kenzo. Master gave Noba the look that means no.”

  “You can’t fly as fast as he can.” The wizard rubbed his familiar’s nose. “And I need you here to help me.”

  “With what, Master?”

  “Fly up to the top of that tree trunk and look down into the wide crack. Look carefully, then come back and tell me what’s there.”

  Noba raised both chest and tail and flew up past Raylene, who stood motionless holding her and Vickie’s arms toward the ghost of her grandmother.

  The Doberman, who’d dropped panting beside the prone vision of Scribe Brigid, found his legs and barked at the little dragon.

  A trickle of bees returned and twirled around Noba’s tail, cocked at a high angle with his head tipped into the hole. He swatted with the barbed tip, its poison sending them flying haphazardly to their hives. Back on the fence rail, he reported his findings.

  Lyra paid close attention and sighed when he didn’t mention a pouch or trinket box or gemstone, only carved figures and journals.

  Trails of bees spun around the branches of the honey tree and reentered the skeps.

  “They’re losing his scent,” Raylene said, her thin arms shaking but still lifted. She looked at her cousins through wisps of dishwater blonde hair spilled over her face. “Don’t let go. She’s still needin’ us.”

  Minutes later, Draora released the spell. The bees returned in full force, a cloud of thousands buzzing to their homes in the honey tree. She looked at the lifeless form of her own cousin on the ground. With a wave of a finger, she set the image to life once more. The witch kneeled beside Brigid. “Dear cousin, it pains me so to tell you.” Tears rolled down her pale cheeks. “I’ve failed you. Another has taken what you wished for the next Scribe. But, I’m good for my promise. My old bones will leave this keep and get my garden stone to her.”

  Lyra let go of Vickie’s hand and shot Cullen a questioning glance. She was glad for the help, but wondered if a ghost could travel into Dragonspeir.

  He shrugged and held out an arm for Kenzo, who sailed under the tree.

  “Eburscon got away. He flew too high,” the owl reported between pants for breath. “I couldn’t breathe at that height in this land. I did keep pace for awhile. Tried twice to grab him in my talons. He had a shield I couldn’t pierce.”

  “You did well.” Cullen rubbed his feathers.

  “Now that he can work that pearl keystone, he’s too powerful for anyone.” Lyra sighed. “In the shape of that butterfly, Eburscon spied on me all those years, both at Aunt Jean’s and in the Alliance.” She kicked a clump of tall grass. “That’s how he knew where to find the fluorite keystone. He may have overheard my discussions about where to find the other gems also.

  “Unfortunately, yes. We need to keep moving quickly,” Cullen replied.

  “If I’d fueled the Staurolite from the first moment I saw that butterfly…”

  “You didn’t know your scribal power wouldn’t suffice.” Cullen wrapped his other arm around her waist. “Neither did I, since you’re strong enough to kill cimafa.”

  Draora stood. “Raylene and Vickie, come over here.” When the two women joined her, she touched them. “Take my hands and lead me to Lyra. I can’t see her. I can only feel her magic.”

  Lyra stepped inside the gate, and the cousins united again, connecting her and the witch directly this time.

  Draora’s filmy hands passed over Lyra’s face and shoulders. The sensation felt cool and dry, with the high frequency vibrations of her magic. “Lyra, I’m so glad to see your face, much like my beloved cousin’s. Now that we’ve touched, we can talk. You’re the child descended from her, who carries on in her place. I’ll travel with you to make good on my promise, to get you that stone.”

  “Thank you, Draora. It means a lot to have your help.” Lyra looked into the witch’s face and was surprised to see more details than before. Her eyes twinkled like black coals against her white complexion. Faint spots of rosy color dotted her cheeks, hints of the vigorous woman she had been in life. But like before, her white hair looked like a specter, strands swept in all directions with the breezes.

  “Where will you go next to find my stone?” Draora released their embrace.

  “Our plan was to drive back to a campground in Michigan to look for another keystone.”

  “Is that our campground? The one we went to as kids?” Vickie’s eyes widened.

  “Yes. That’ the place,” Lyra replied.

  “A fine spot with family memories,” Draora added.

  “I don’t remember goin’ there.” Raylene stooped and rubbed her dog’s head. “Good Jitty. Good boy. It’s all over now.”

  “You were just a toddler, but you went along,” Vickie responded. “Why don’t we all go with Lyra and help her? I can get time off from the bed and breakfast. I’m sure Bob can take care of the kids and our antique shop. How ‘bout you, Ray? Will the library let you off?”

  “For a road trip with Grandma and my best cousins, who cares? I’m goin’. When do we leave?”

  “Tonight would be best. We need to be as quick as possible.” Lyra looked at Cullen. “Lives are in danger.”

  “We now know that the Dark Realm is collecting the keystones. They’ll be seeking the moonstone, if they haven’t already secured it.” He motioned toward the driveway. “We should leave tonight, with or without assistance.”

  Raylene pushed past them, her pony pajama bottoms dragging on the tall, damp grass. “Ready as soon as I pack a small bag.” She glanced over her shoulder at Vickie. “Will Bob watch Jitty?”

  “Yep. Sure will. Be ready in half an hour.” Vickie clapped a hand to her wide thigh. “Come on, Jitty. Let’s go for a ride back to my house.” She faced Lyra and Cullen. “I just need to take his feed back to our barn and pack my own bag.” She spun around and called to Raylene, “How does Grandma ride?”

  “Don’t know. Ask her.” The screen door slammed behind the young woman.

  ***

  Thirty minutes later, Lyra drove away from Vickie’s house. Cullen and his two assistants rode with her as before.

  Vickie followed in her pickup truck with Raylene propped against a bed pillow and Draora reclining comfortably in the small backseat of the cab.

  Lyra hoped Vickie was a good driver. They didn’t need to be pulled over with a pale-as-death ghost, a pseudodragon, and giant owl as passengers.

  They drove through the night, stopping to change drivers, get gas and snacks. During one break, Lyra used her clairvoyance skills to caution Cranewort about the new developments with Eburscon. He conveyed an agitated reply expressing surprise and concern for everyone’s safety.

  When she drove into the campground north of Mackinac, Lyra roused Cullen in time to see dawn peek over the horizon. Kenzo and Noba curled together, snoring in the back.

  Raylene’s head was plastered against the passenger window, while Vickie stretched her stiff legs in the cool, morning air. She rubbed her hands along the sides of her upper arms. “Cooler up here than back home. I’d forgotten.”

  “I spent a lot of time here in Michigan, years visiting Aunt Jean, Dad’s sister.” Lyra rolled stiffness from her shoulders. “Now that she’s gone, I own her cottage. I sure miss her.”

  Vickie nodded. “It’s hard.”

  “Do you want breakfast first or to get started looking?” Lyra asked.

  “I’m not hungry. We just stopped three hours ago. Let’s wake up the others and get goin’” Vickie tapped on her cousin’s window, and Raylene yawned but didn’t move.

  After giving his helpers a gentle shake, Cullen stepped out and arched his back. “Where do we begin? Do you have a specific tree in mind?” he asked Lyra.

  “This is the right parking area. We camped all around here. My guess is the portal tree will be in one of those spots…or at least that’s what I’m hoping anyway.”

  “You and me both.” He bent
from side to side, then straightened and looked alert. “We need to pick up our pace.”

  With some prodding, Vickie managed to wake their younger cousin.

  Raylene stumbled out of the truck, rubbing sleep from her eyes. “This place seems kinda familiar. The smell does—the pine scent.”

  “There’s magic coloring this air…from the trees and another source I can’t figure.” Draora floated close behind her.

  Vickie pointed to a trailhead. “There’s where we had our family picnic. Back in the woods, there’s a crick were we kids played.”

  “What’s a crick?” Noba asked, tilting his head at her.

  “That’s another word for creek,” Lyra replied. When he still looked confused, she added, “A small stream, a tiny river.”

  Noba’s long ears perked, and he looked behind him in time to duck as Kenzo swept inches above him. After a questioning glance for permission from Cullen, he flapped his small wings and trailed after the owl. “Wait for Noba!”

  “Seems like the right spot to explore first.” Lyra wound her hand into Cullen’s elbow to speak privately. I hope Vickie’s vivid memories and Draora’s awareness of magical trees lead us to the enchanted portal with the moonstone.

  Yes. It’s the most logical way to start. Draora’s magic might prove useful.

  The motley group entered the trail just as a park vehicle turned into the lot. “Oh no, rangers.” Lyra called ahead, “Raylene, can everyone see Draora, or just us?”

  “It don’t matter.” The young woman twirled around, kicking up pine needles. “They’ll know she’s here by her magic, even though they only see bits of her image.”

  Draora floated overhead from tree to tree.

  Vickie sighed. “Oh well. At least Noba and Kenzo will be camouflaged in the woods—”

  “If I can alert them to keep quiet.” Cullen dropped Lyra’s arm and stepped up his pace to a jog.

  Vickie glanced over her shoulder at Lyra with a big smile. “This here is the picnic pavilion we used for our cookout. It’s all coming back to me.”

  Lyra nodded. Being here with her cousins brought back her own memories too—happy times with lots of food and laughter. She could see them as children playing tag around those tables and begging for the crispy fried catfish tails at the big grill. She slowed past the pavilion, soaking up warm feelings, then took up the rear to keep Raylene on the right trail.

  While she walked, Lyra kept her eyes on the trees, not only to keep track of the witch’s location, but also to determine which might be the portal. She knew from the book written by the second Scribe, Nareene, that it would be a tall sycamore. Unfortunately, their path led through a dense pine canopy that blocked her view of the sky and surrounding trees.

  Car doors slammed shut in the parking lot.

  “Let’s go faster. Those rangers are on foot now.” Lyra stopped watching the trees and nudged Raylene forward.

  “What about Grandma?” her cousin balked.

  “Draora can certainly take care of herself. Get going.”

  Ahead, Noba yelped with delight.

  “That little guy sounds like he’s havin’ the time of his life,” Raylene cooed and lengthened her strides. “I wanna see this.”

  Lyra was thankful for anything that got her cousin to move faster.

  A side path led them to the sounds of splashing. On the bank, Cullen turned to Lyra. “At my request, they’ve stopped shouting, but wings flapping against the water makes plenty of noise.”

  “Too much. There are rangers on foot now.” Lyra surveyed the streambed in both directions. “There’s a group of sycamores downstream. We need to go look at them.”

  As she turned away, Cullen grabbed her hand. “First, let me borrow some of your magic. I need to set a silencing spell on these two.”

  Hearing distant male voices, Lyra speeded his process by channeling some of her aura into his hand.

  Moments later, Cullen waved everyone toward the stand of sycamores. He and the three cousins scurried as fast as possible along the stream’s narrow side trail littered with knobby roots.

  Kenzo and Noba met them at a pool partially enclosed by the roots of one giant white-barked tree. Without a sound, the pair dove from the air and splashed water at each other. They didn’t seem to mind the cool spring temperatures.

  Vickie stared, mouth open, at them. “All that commotion and no noise.”

  Raylene waved to her grandmother above them in the lower sycamore branches.

  Leaning over the pool, the witch exhaled a breeze and then churned it with an arm. The water spun like a gentle whirlpool. It carried Kenzo and Noba in a circle like on a children’s carnival ride.

  Vickie and Raylene smiled and let the swirling water run through their fingers, while Lyra and Cullen watched the trail for any sign of the rangers.

  “I’ll watch.” He motioned her away. “You examine the trees.”

  On the trail side of the creek, Lyra skirted around brush and piles of peeled bark at the bases of tree trunks. She studied the bark of each one from every angle, as high as she could see. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary in appearance, and none gave off any vibrations.

  She glanced up at Draora perched on the mighty sycamore on the other bank and wondered if the witch selected that tree for a reason. Too wide for a sure jump, Lyra decided to pick her way across the stream on exposed rocks. She made it safely onto the first but felt less confident about the next, which was green with thick moss. As soon as her weight shifted onto the slippery stone, her foot slid. She let out a yelp, then squelched her outcry, fearing she’d alert the rangers.

  Lyra leapt for the far bank and landed awkwardly on her butt, although she was thankful to be dry in the chilly air. Getting her feet underneath her, she placed a hand on the tree and felt an odd texture. She moved her hand away to find a carving—the same symbol the World Tree in Silva Caliga had given them as a clue in his riddle.

  The lines cut deep into the bark, well past the peeling surface. A center line, with a branch on either side, stood with two zigzag water lines at its base.

  Lyra started to call to Cullen but stopped when she saw the flash of his dragon ring.

  Cullen used his limited energy and cast a spell over their group, one she recognized as an invisibility ward. Under that ward, they could see each other but were invisible to the outside world.

  Lyra’s pulse pounded watching the two men in brown uniforms pass along the trail. They stared up in the giant sycamore where Draora sat and down at the water in the pool, its churning motion slowing.

  The rangers turned away but froze when a spine-chilling screech sounded high at the top of the enchanted tree.

  Draora responded to the cry with her own eerie, high-pitched wail.

  Chapter Nine: Adder’s Tongue

  Lyra craned her neck back and squinted past the top branches of the enchanted sycamore. At least 170 feet tall, she saw only a network of white branches and slivers of blue sky where she expected the portal. She detected no magic, but the unmistakable shadow from a cimafa fell around her. The portal must be open. Being a stealth dragon, it showed no sign of its aura or that of a rider. However, as her powers had increased, she’d learned how to detect their evil darkness. She withdrew her wizard’s staff from her jacket pocket and enlarged it to full size.

  In two strides, Cullen leapt beside her. He took her hand and channeled her power into him.

  The pair of rangers drew their pistols and scanned the tree.

  In the next instant, Cullen transformed into a panther and scaled the tremendous trunk nearly fourteen feet across.

  Lyra sucked in a breath and studied the two men for any sign of recognition flashing over their faces. She prayed that the invisibility ward still protected her group, especially Cullen in his animal form. She knew the Imperial Dragon had encouraged Cullen to practice transformation, but she’d never seen him change. It seemed like it would take a lot of his limited energy.

  The cimafa’s energy st
rengthened into a slender, concentrated death cone. Lyra had been in that zone too many times. From this action, she knew a stealth dragon detected their souls, and likely intended to harvest them. A slither of a sleek, dark-scaled tail along the trunk confirmed her guess.

  She stifled a cry, and motioned for her cousins and Cullen’s assistants to move away from the tree.

  They quickly complied, although Draora remained seated on a low branch. The witch locked her feet underneath the thick limb. Bracing herself with a handhold on a secondary branch, she declared, “Whatever’s up there won’t get my kin.”

  The rangers jerked at the sound of her voice. One crouched his tall frame low, both hands holding his gun against a thin, wobbly knee. “Ron, there’s a person in that tree. I hear a voice, but can’t see anyone,” he called to his partner who nearly tripped over Noba, invisible on the trail. “

  “Yep, Pat! Don’t know if it sounded like a human or just a bawling coon.” Ron maneuvered onto a rock that protruded into the stream. Well-muscled, he used an overhanging branch to lean out for a better view.

  Thankful to know that the invisibility ward still held, Lyra focused on protecting them and the enchanted sycamore from the cimafa.

  A shot fired from Ron’s pistol that pummeled loose bark a few feet above Draora. Cullen’s ward had failed.

  His panther tail slipped to the opposite side of the trunk.

  Scooting against a fork of the wide limb, the witch caught the bustle of her long skirt on the peeling bark.

  Lyra glanced back and forth between the ranger and the tree, trying to determine which one of them the ranger aimed at.

  Before she could determine, the cimafa let out another baleful shriek, this time so close, her ears ached with the dark energy in the reverberating cry. Its death cone widened directly over her…and Draora, immediately above.

  The witch responded with a hideous wail, so high-pitched the sycamore’s twigs shuddered.

  The enchanted tree picked up her vibrations and carried them upward on a breeze.