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

by Marsha A. Moore

  Tarom had planted within her an intention—kill the Black Dragon.

  The ruby tugged on her thoughts with its own agenda. She fought to thread together some rationale for his action. He served as official alchemist of the Black Dragon’s Dark Realm. She wondered what motivated Tarom to undermine his leader. Many times, she’d seen him happiest as a loner, so his lack of allegiance didn’t surprise her. But why did he choose her to kill the leader? Facts supporting possible answers wouldn’t string together in her overwhelmed mind. Did he want to remain innocent of the crime he wished to commit? Was she more capable than he? He promised to keep her alive and return her to Cullen but in what state—healthy or grossly injured? Questions continued to surface without even shreds of explanations. Lyra balled her hands into fists. “Damned ruby,” she muttered under her breath, afraid of who might be listening.

  Lyra felt for her valuable possessions. All remained safe. Even her staff lay at her side. Apparently Tarom thought she needed to be armed to carry out his intention. It surprised her that the moonstone violin also lay beside her. She quickly pulled it free of the burlap sack and found it in fine condition. The pockets of her jeans still bulged with the Emtori Ruby and Staurolite, which she expected since those gems bonded closely with her aura.

  Only someone possessing a strong aura aligned with either a fire sign or quintessence energy could attempt to steal them. In Elisabeth’s book, the Black Dragon of that time held enough fire aura to command the ruby. Lyra didn’t know if the present day dark leader inherited that ability.

  Quintessence, the master power, was far rarer. Numerous times, Eburscon had attempted to steal her aura to gain that power. When he served as the Alliance alchemist, he’d studied ways to use quintessence in his lab. She wondered whether he could actually control it now. He fought to gain the keystones, beating her to the Pearl of Pendola and the fluorite. Although he claimed he acted on behalf of the Black Dragon, trying to undermine the Alliance, she remembered bits about something else. Somehow, Eburscon intended to use the set of four to conjure his own quintessence. Her addled mind ached trying to apply logic. Surely he knew Tarom brought her to the dark lair. Why then, did she still possess the other two keystones?

  Curious about her surroundings, Lyra crept on hands and knees to peer around the stonework of the doorframe. The empty hall, wide enough for dragons to pass freely, echoed with primal roars and snarls.

  The ruby surged its adrenaline into her veins. She shuddered at its drive to send her through the lair, not to escape but to locate the Black Dragon’s chamber. A new wave of questions hit her. Did she have any control or influence over Tarom’s plan for her? Was she capable of the deed, or would she die in the process, leaving her mission for the Alliance incomplete? If she managed to survive, were the two goals mutually exclusive? Questions poured in, weighing heavy in her mind, still without facts that aligned into useful answers. Fear of the unknown shook her core.

  Unable to force much of the congestion aside, Lyra allowed instinct to guide her. Clinging to the sidewall, she tiptoed to the next doorway and found only another empty cell. She continued a hundred feet along the windowless hall until the ruby’s light flared from her pocket. Alarmed that the glow might alert others, she shielded it with her hand. The strength of the gem bled into her skin. She hungered for more power to satisfy the ruby’s craving, her craving.

  She hurried down the corridor to where violet light spilled from an open door. The room held a laboratory filled with tables that supported mazes of glassware bubbling and steaming with various alchemical reactions. Large flasks contained various shades of iridescent purple liquid, the source of the colored light. She wondered which alchemist the room belonged to, Tarom or Eburscon. She wandered the lab looking for a clue to any of the unknowns. Two well-thumbed books, The Fifth Power and The Master Element, lay on a rickety study table amid a scatter of notebooks. She paused to scan the recent entries in an open journal. A scribble of chemical equations covered the page. She flipped pages, studying previous notations.

  “Pardon me, Scribe Lyra,” the familiar condescending tone of Eburscon said from the entry. He strolled the length of a long lab bench, checking various glass connectors as he made his way to her. “I see you are awake and well. Welcome.” He smirked. “I doubt you are able to comprehend my notes, but have you found anything of interest…or wish to pose any intelligent questions?” Underneath a copious amount of expensive, exotic cologne, he smelled of mold and mildew. Judging from his white complexion, Lyra guessed he rarely left the dank lab.

  “Why am I here?” she asked through gritted teeth.

  “Tarom assured me that he supplied you with that information.” Eburscon leaned against the edge of the table and observed her with a cool gaze. In no obvious hurry, he worked tangles from the tail of his graying dark braid using long, pointed fingernails. Eight massive rings set with purple stones decorated his hands. “Are you prepared to commence?” He buffed his nails on the nap of his purple velvet tunic.

  “I expect to be released with all four keystones afterward.” Thankfully, her voice sounded resolute even though she shook inside.

  “Such a bold request. You’ve become more assertive than I remember.” He chuckled under his breath. “Or is that the ruby’s influence?”

  Lyra white-knuckled her staff until aura spilled from the apex. Her other hand dug into her pocket and wrapped around the ruby.

  “Of course. After you complete the task.”

  “Show me the pearl and fluorite keystones. I want to be sure they’re here.”

  “That is reasonable.” Eburscon motioned toward the door and a grin lifted the corners of his mouth. “Please follow. They’re kept under an enchantment by the Black Dragon in his chamber.”

  With his long legs, he strode swiftly down the corridor.

  Lyra quick-stepped to keep up, clinging to the idea that she must get those keystones no matter what the ruby or Tarom or Eburscon wanted from her.

  He paused only once. When a trio of ice drakes passed, he covered himself and Lyra with a magical ward as they stood close against a wall.

  The creatures’ white wingtips, tails, and feet left frost clinging to the stone.

  Since Eburscon had attempted to kill her many times in the past, his effort to keep her alive underlined that she truly possessed some ability he wanted. If she could only determine her uniqueness, she might work a shrewd bargain.

  He nodded to two fire drakes standing sentry outside double rough-hewn oak doors. After the guards granted their entry, he turned to her. “Wait here in the entry.” Eburscon directed and took two quiet steps inside.

  Lyra peered inside. Flashes of her memory from her previous visit to this chamber helped her connect.

  Snores of the Black Dragon sounded off the stone walls and floor. The leader lay curled in the far corner, behind an algae-encrusted pool where two carcasses had rotted beyond identification. Black slime puddled under the leader’s snout. His acidic slaver had eaten away the scales, leaving blisters and raw, ragged flesh. His eyes lay in deep sockets, between two great horns, curving forward and down. With each exhale, loose skin clung to the contours of his skeletal ribcage.

  Eburscon raised his arms wide, and a cloak of his violet aura covered the Black Dragon. The alchemist motioned Lyra to enter and whispered, “I’ve cloaked the leader to subdue his detection of magic.” He continued to a bare wall and passed a hand across an empty space. An ornate inlaid and gilded chest materialized, its fine appearance in stark contrast to the primitive surroundings. He opened a drawer to reveal the two keystones, each positioned on a velvet-lined tray. His dark eyes gleamed as he gathered them into his palm and whispered, “I’ve long wanted to test the properties of the set.” As he stepped nearer to Lyra, the Staurolite vibrated in her pocket. A circle of white light expanded from it to unite the four keystones.

  In response, the ruby’s power loosened its command over Lyra. Lucid and full of purpose, she lunged for the alche
mist’s torso and toppled him to the floor, reaching for the gems in his hand. Unable to reach, she thrust her staff into his neck, searing his skin while keeping her gaze fixed on the pearl and fluorite.

  Eburscon screamed and writhed but didn’t drop them as she’d hoped. Instead, his keystones sailed through the air to their original positions in the chest. He pushed Lyra off to one side.

  The Black Dragon snorted and jerked his massive head.

  She jumped to her feet and chased the enchanted gems, arriving at the chest as it vanished. “Give me those keystones!” she commanded.

  The leader rolled to his feet and growled. “The Scribe!” Drool dripped from his deteriorated jowls, and the acid sizzled as it hit the rock.

  Eburscon’s hands lit with vivid purple aura.

  Lyra powered her staff. The Staurolite silent again, the ruby retook control. Rage and greed surged. She snarled at both the alchemist and the dark leader, eager for a fight, any fight. Her personal goal of getting the keystones became lost. She crouched low, like a wild animal ready to pounce.

  Eburscon appeared to suppress a grin as he gingerly applied self-healing to the burn on his neck.

  The chamber walls pulsed red with light from both the Black Dragon’s eyes and the Emtori Ruby Lyra withdrew from her pocket.

  The beast arched his neck into a high backbend. Abruptly, he thrust it forward, his head gained momentum, and the great jaws spewed acid regurgitation directly over Lyra.

  Instinctively, she raised the ruby over her head. Its light shielded her like an umbrella, the vomit raining in a circle around her. Still, the fumes infiltrated her lungs. She choked and wheezed, gasping for air. In desperation, she looked for Eburscon.

  Arms folded across his chest, he smiled and leaned against a wall, shielded by a film of his own aura. Lyra knew he wouldn’t help her.

  Holding the ruby in front of her like a shield, she stocked her staff with a huge amount of aura. Once the ragged breath stilled in her chest, she allowed the shot to follow the exacting aim of the ruby. The laser cut a wide, deep swatch across the leader’s neck that oozed reddish-black blood. A similar shot had decapitated the fire drakes at the portal. The leader’s strength far surpassed that of his minions.

  The Black Dragon let out a roar that shook the floor under Lyra. Mouth open displaying multiple rows of long, snaggled teeth, the beast strode directly toward her, splashing putrefaction from the cesspool with each step.

  The ruby’s adrenaline swirled around Lyra’s own mix of fear, resolve, and courage—still separate, distinguishable entities. The keystone demanded she unite fully with it, feed it her scribal aura, make it and her, together, an indomitable force. Its cry pounded in her brain. With the dark leader a single step away, she acquiesced to the ruby’s demands. At that moment, she needed it as much as it needed her.

  Lyra channeled her aura into the ruby, and its simmering red glow burst into a molten blaze. She thrust the hand with the stone forward. A jagged, crimson bolt arched through the narrow space between her and the dragon’s bulk.

  Unable to move from the quagmire fast enough, he stretched his neck long, the gaping mouth only feet from Lyra.

  Acidic stench on the beast’s breath churned her stomach. She staggered backward until limited by a wall. Out of his reach by a couple yards, her heart thudded in her throat. She amassed more aura, all that she could access from her mind as well as the reserved stronger aura from her heart. Sensing an icy emptiness in her chest, Lyra hesitated. She returned a small portion of her heart aura. When the sensation passed, she channeled the gathered aura into the ruby.

  The ruby’s arc responded and cut deeper into the Black Dragon’s chest.

  He moaned and lunged forward. His jaws bit the air close to Lyra’s head. She felt his hot breath on her face. The weight of his body dropped with a thundering crash. His hind limbs and tail splashed her with the pool’s fetid water.

  Lyra’s whole body shook, and she bent double and retched. Her head still pounded with the ruby’s will. She prayed that she could purge herself of that force. Another round of vomit rose. But as she wiped her mouth on the tail of her t-shirt, the incessant fierce hunger for power remained. She’d given the ruby so much of her aura, she couldn’t access any of her thoughts—her goals were lost. Tears of frustration flooded her eyes. The ruby owned her.

  Quiet footsteps clicked on the stone floor, and a warm hand rested between her shoulder blades. “Lyra, you’ve done admirably,” a man’s voice said as he shoved a silver goblet under her face. “You’ll feel better if you drink this.” He obviously knew her.

  She grasped for a shred of memory of the man who stood beside her, but the fragments faded and became lost in a cloudy blur. Her gaze whipped around the room, searching unsuccessfully for anything familiar. Only the putrid stench reminded her that she’d been there before. The ruby seemed to block her memories.

  “What is it? Who are you?” she stammered from her hunched position.

  “The Black Dragon’s blood. If you drink it, you shall become the new Dark Realm ruler. I’m Eburscon, and I shall be your personal aide once you assume your new role.” He pushed the goblet closer to her.

  She grimaced, expecting a foul odor. Instead, a pleasant aroma met her nose, a spicy tartness like cider.

  The ruby’s fire surged anew through her body and created a desperate thirst.

  Lyra’s mouth became dry, her throat parched. She couldn’t determine whether she yearned for liquid or power, no more than she could separate herself from the ruby. She moved the staff into the crook of her elbow and, with a trembling hand, took hold of the vessel’s stem.

  “It smells of a wonderful bouquet, yes?” With a hand under her arm, Eburscon lifted her torso. “Please, stand and enjoy the drink.”

  Suddenly, a circular scar prickled on the index finger holding the goblet. Familiar on some basal plane of her consciousness, she couldn’t recall the association. The impulse sent a sharp and pointed wave of recollection to her mind, a single, lucid thought—retrieve the pearl and fluorite keystones. The isolated idea held no meaning for her. But since it lacked the fiery command of the ruby, she accepted its importance and focused on Eburscon. Her mouth pasty with cotton-mouth, she managed a garbled request, “Give me the pearl and fluorite keystones first.”

  A knowing grin lit his face. He walked to a wall and with a wave of his hand, materialized an inlaid chest of drawers.

  Lyra blinked repeatedly, trying to place a previous image of what he conjured. She moved the ruby to her pocket and silently cursed the red gem and herself for giving it her power.

  Eburscon opened the top drawer and, from separate velvet-lined trays, removed a pearl and a purple gemstone. He deposited them into a stone niche in the wall beside her and stepped away. “They are yours. Now you must honor your end of the bargain. Claim the rule of this land for yourself.” He motioned for her to lift the goblet.

  Lyra swirled the liquid, its spiciness tempting her thirst, indivisible from the ruby’s desire to claim the throne. The scar still vibrated around her finger as she brought the vessel to her lips.

  Chapter Twenty-three: The New Ruler

  Footsteps clattered in the corridor outside the chamber.

  Raw instinct made Lyra resist, but the ruby commanded her arm to flex. Shaking, she tilted the goblet. The ruby forced her tongue behind her lips, eager for a taste. The warm blood moistened her lips, and a sip passed down her throat, immediately quenching the cottony dryness.

  “Lyra! Stop! Don’t drink!” a girl’s high-pitched voice cried from behind as she ran through the doors and batted the goblet from Lyra’s hand. Although the child of about ten seemed familiar, Lyra couldn’t place her.

  “Silence, girl!” Eburscon grabbed the child by the wrist and yanked her aside, braced legs wobbling beneath her. “Or I shall send you to the Qumeli chieftain to remove your other ear.”

  His words hit the pit of Lyra’s stomach and she flinched, although she couldn’t co
mprehend their meaning. Her gaze darted between them, trying to grasp why he threatened the apparently innocent child.

  Slightly out of breath, a man entered and surveyed the room. His appearance—long hair, tunic, cloak, and boots all in black—blended with the dark stone walls. Only two features stood apart—a violet gemmed pendant and an ornately carved wooden staff with a skull at its pinnacle.

  Eburscon glared at the man. “Tarom, why did you let the seer from her cell? Did the importance of our timing escape you?” Eburscon bent to secure the girl’s other wrist behind her back. His braid and pendant swung forward, the setting an identical match to what Tarom wore. Lyra suspected some alliance bonded the two.

  Eburscon glanced at Lyra. “Look! You’re too late. She has already swallowed the ruler’s blood. The transformation is complete.” A wide smile covered his face, and he flung the young seer to Tarom. Eburscon dropped to one knee and bowed to Lyra.

  Lyra didn’t understand how she transformed. Only the same sensations that plagued her before remained, the ruby’s incessant greed throbbing in her head and the scar on her finger itched. She examined her limbs, and then she knew—a black halo surrounded her skin.

  Eburscon rose and narrowed his eyes at Tarom. “Why aren’t you securing Kessa?” Eburscon tilted his head. The corners of his smile fell, and his lips pressed flat. “You released her from her cell early so she could foil our plan…what we’d worked for years to devise. And completed without a flaw. She drank the blood and now wears the shadow of evil. Through the elixir I added, I now guide Lyra’s complete powers. Quintessence is mine, the pure power we—you, Symar, and I—wanted. Why now?”

  Tarom didn’t answer. He gripped his staff until the skull’s eyes emitted a faint blue-violet glow. A scar on the index finger of his staff hand, similar to Lyra’s, radiated the same light.