The Legends of Regia Box Set: The Complete Series. Books 1-7

by Tenaya Jayne

  “So…” Rahaxeris’ voice was quiet, but Kitch still winced. “Tell me about the travelers you encountered last night.”

  Kitch tried to clear his throat, but it felt like a jagged rock was wedged in his windpipe. “Uhh. Yes sir.” Be succinct. “Sometime around the third hour I encountered an unusual scent: Vampire, Elf, and Shape Shifter. I was invisible, but the vampire came charging right at me as though he could see me, brandishing two short swords, and spitting threats at me.”

  Rahaxeris’ remained expressionless. “Did he look like a master of the Blood Kata?”

  “No. He was dressed strangely. Clothes like I have never seen, and his hair was so short, I took him for a servant.”

  Rahaxeris sneered, and Kitch wanted to run away as fast as he could. “A servant who can sense the location of an invisible elf in the dark? Not very observant, are you?”

  Kitch looked at his feet. “No sir.”

  “Tell me the rest.”

  “I asked him his business. He said that he and his companion were running away from their families to start over because they were destined life mates and would never be accepted. I told him I could smell two others but he told me I smelled a Halfling.”

  Rahaxeris didn’t move, but Kitch could tell he had come to the information that interested him most by the glint in his eyes.

  “Are you sure of what you smelled?”

  “Yes, sir. Elf and Shifter, I have no doubt.”

  “What did she look like?”

  “Uhh…well I didn’t get a good look. I wanted to question her as well, but the vampire made a fuss about it, said I was just wanting to ogle the freak, or something like that.”

  “Did you believe his story?”

  “I did watch them from a distance. They were very… amorous.”

  Rahaxeris sneered again. “Voyeur?”

  “No! No sir. Not at all!” Kitch spluttered.

  “Is that all? It was just the two of them?”

  Camber had warned him not to lie, but what would happen if he told the truth? He could feel that his life hinged on the decision he was about to make. Truth or lie? Or was it too late and he was damned regardless?

  “Yes, sir, it was just the two. I encountered no one else last night.”

  “Are you quite sure?”

  “Ah…yes.” Kitch’s voice was weak.

  Rahaxeris stood up. He moved forward with a slow precision. Kitch had the urge to run as he approached him.

  “Don’t look so nervous, my boy. You’re not in trouble.” Rahaxeris gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

  Kitch exhaled so loudly his breath came out in a whoosh.

  “How long have you been working for us?” Rahaxeris asked.

  “Oh, umm, under a year, sir.”

  “Keep up the good work, and you’ll have a bright future. I can tell. You have a curious nature—I value that. I bet you’re just busting with questions, aren’t you?”

  Kitch smiled easily, thinking now that he’d been silly to worry he would be punished. Rahaxeris was taking a liking to him. He would have major bragging rights with his friends that night. Kitch envisioned himself sitting in one of those stone chairs before long. He was making friends in high places.

  “Oh, yes sir! I have lots of questions.”

  “I bet one of your many questions is why I care about a random vampire and a Halfling? Am I right?”

  “Yes, sir. I’d very much like to know that.”

  “Well…” Rahaxeris lowered his voice conspiratorially. “Can you keep a secret?”

  “Most definitely, sir,” Kitch said enthusiastically.

  Rahaxeris leaned closer to Kitch and whispered. “The Halfling is my daughter.”

  Kitch’s eyes widened in terror as Rahaxeris grabbed him around the throat. His long, razor-sharp finger nails stabbed deep into Kitch’s neck, and he collapsed to the floor choking on his own blood.

  Camber stood at attention as Rahaxeris came through the light door into the antechamber. “Ah, Camber, clean up the mess in there.” Rahaxeris pointed to the small light beam on the wall.

  “Yes, sir. Will I need to send a fabricated story of how he died to his family as well?”

  “Yes. A simple story, Camber, for a simple man.”

  Camber nodded. “I did warn him against lying, Sir.”

  Rahaxeris clicked his tongue in response.

  “Was his information useful? Shall we pursue the travelers he let go?”

  Rahaxeris smoothed his hair and straightened his robe. “No. There were no travelers. He lied.”

  Chapter 14

  Forest choked as her heart stilled and refused to beat again. The werewolf behind her had her arms pinned in a grip she couldn’t break. She’d been so distracted, arguing with Syrus, they'd walked right into an ambush. Where were all of her quick lies now?

  One of the three wolves recognized her, and she had understood enough of their broken French to know that they planned to take her to Philippe, but they were going to kill Syrus.

  The afternoon sunlight glistened on the amber pelt across the wolf’s hulking shoulders as he knocked Syrus to the ground. He couldn’t win. They had already injured him badly. She couldn’t tell the extent of the damage to his right leg, but he couldn’t put his weight on it. All three wolves were barking and laughing and taunting him. All their noise turned into a loud buzzing in Forest’s ears. She couldn’t watch Syrus die.

  Forest tried to come up with a plan, even if it was nothing more than something to cause momentary distraction to the wolves, but nothing would come. Come on, Syrus, think of something! He rose from the ground, breathing heavily, totally disarmed. The two beasts circled around him; they’d been tag teaming him from the start. Forest recognized the gleam in their eyes. The moment had arrived. Both wolves lunged forward. Syrus knocked one of them back, but the other seized his arm in its shark-like teeth. He shouted in pain, the sound echoing inside her heart. The other wolf jumped back up and caught his other arm. They were going to tear him apart.

  “FOREST!” he screamed for her and it was less of a cry for help then it was a goodbye.

  “SYRUS!”

  “I’m right here.”

  Forest was panting and tears spilled from her eyes. It was dark, and she felt Syrus gently breathing to her left. She looked at the moon overhead and remembered where they were. They were camped at the edge of the Wolf’s Wood. She’d been dreaming. She looked over at Syrus. He lay next to her on his side, facing away from her. The moonlight fell along the planes of his back, and she couldn’t think to stop herself. She scooted up to him, laying her cheek against his shoulder blade, gripping his arm tightly with her hand, and cried. Her chest quaked against him; her tears fell on his back.

  Syrus went rigid under her touch. Given the experience he’d had with her dreaming last night, he thought it best to remain as still as possible until she was lucid, if not wiser to guard his sensitive areas in case she was about to attack. He waited for her to let go of him. It was only when her tears soaked through his shirt that he realized she was completely awake. He was perplexed as to what to do. Maybe he should just do nothing and wait until she had cried herself out and embarrassment set in and she’d turn back into the Forest he was familiar with.

  “I thought I lost you,” she whispered so quietly he almost didn’t hear it.

  She’d been dreaming about him, and now she was crying on his back. He slowly rolled over to face her so he could ask her what she had dreamed, but he never got the chance. As soon as he faced her, she fused her mouth to his. He sucked his breath in, shocked. Her lips were throbbing and hungry and tasted of tears. The pain that always came with touching Forest was sharper than ever. She was ruled by what she wanted and not thoughts of why she couldn’t have it.

  Syrus pulled back, wishing more than ever that he could see her face. “What are you doing, Forest?”

  “Uhh…You're dreaming, Syrus.”

  Syrus’ face was set in irritation, and Fo
rest began to come back to her senses, but she didn’t quite make it. The next second Syrus was smiling the widest imp smile she’d ever seen.

  “Oh, well, in that case.”

  He pulled her against his chest, his lips now intense and demanding. Within seconds, Forest drowned in sensations. He quickly and efficiently removed her from her sleeping bag and pulled her over him. The cold night was heating up around them and Forest was just going to let it happen, throwing caution to the wind. Her jacket went flying, and her shirt was about to join it when Syrus moved his lips to her neck, kissing the top of her scars. Pain sliced all the way down her the length of her scars, and deep as the bone. She jumped as though she’d been startled and looked around guiltily as if Leith might step out from behind the nearest tree.

  Syrus reached up to pull her back to him. She put both of her hands flat on his chest and pushed away.

  “What?” he asked bewildered, his mind still in the bogs of desire, trying again to bring her back to him.

  She pushed harder. "No!”

  He exhaled in plain exasperation. “This is the worst dream I’ve ever had. You are the biggest tease I’ve ever met.”

  His words stung deep, and she moved off of him. “I…I’m sorry. It wasn’t my intention to tease you. I just can’t.”

  “Why?”

  She searched for an answer that was both true and stretched truth. Syrus rolled on his side and propped his head on his arm. “There’s someone else, isn’t there?” he asked quietly, hoping desperately that she would say no.

  Forest shook her rumpled sleeping bag out and laid down on it again. “Yes," she said aggressively.

  She immediately regretted saying it. Syrus sat up, all of his muscles tight and an expression like she'd dealt him a mortal wound.

  Forest sighed. "No. It's not that there is someone else… It’s not like that."

  "There's no one else?"

  "No. You…I can’t…It’s just that I’m not willing to mean nothing to you.”

  “Why would you ever think that you mean nothing to me? When have I ever given you the slightest impression that you weren’t important to me?”

  “I won’t be your convenience!”

  “There is not one single thing about you that's convenient, Forest. Why do you think I would use you? You mean a great deal to me.”

  Forest’s heart flinched at his words, but she shut it down swiftly. “How can I trust that is anything other than pillow talk?”

  Syrus’ angry expression smoothed out into contemplation. He took a few slow breaths and lowered his head back down. “All right. Come here.”

  Forest looked sharply at him for a second, and then softened; he just wanted to hold her. She rolled her face away from him, and he moved against her back, spooning her. He smoothed the hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ear and kissed the back of her head.

  “Trust is the underlying problem,” he said quietly. “I can understand that. Trust runs thin on you, Forest.”

  They were both quiet for a while. Forest looked at the trees that marked the boundary of the Wolf’s Wood repressing a shudder. It had been many years since she had gone in there. It really was the most wonderful and terrifying place in all of Regia. The trees here were three times wider and taller than any other trees in Regia, and they formed a tight line around the edge, like a fence around the Garden of Eden.

  Wispy clouds began to slither across the sky, darkening the aqua light of the moon, and a chilly mist crept along the ground around them. Forest shivered. Syrus pulled her tighter against him. “Tell me your deepest secret,” he whispered.

  “No way.”

  “Please?”

  “Tell me yours,” she tossed back.

  Syrus sighed deeply. “Not yet.”

  “Will you tell me something else?” she asked.

  “Anything…well mostly anything,” he chuckled.

  “Why do you have so many scars?”

  He took a deep breath. “Oh, well. After I lost my sight, I spent a year in total darkness. I don’t mean visual darkness. It was internal, spiritual darkness. I wanted to die. Before the attack all I had to my credit was my title and my vanity; there was nothing else to me. Unable to maintain my arrogance with my disfigurement, I soon became completely insufferable. Redge was the only person I trusted, the only one I’d let near me. And when he wasn’t around, I had to keep company with myself. I soon realized that I wasn’t even a fit companion for myself. That sounds stupid.”

  “No, no, it doesn’t. Go on,” she urged.

  “Redge had always been my servant and I considered him a friend, loosely. I used to commend myself on how generously I treated him. As time passed, however, I discovered my idea of generous was little better than bankrupt. When you are as lonely as I was, you come to appreciate company, and Redge was good company. He is better than a brother to me now.”

  “I’d like to get to know him,” Forest said.

  Syrus chuckled. “Oh, I think given the opportunity, you two would become fast friends.”

  Forest’s heart gave a little pang as she realized she never would have the opportunity.

  “So anyway, I had given up on everything, and it was Redge who encouraged me to take up the Blood Kata again. I wouldn’t listen to him at first, thinking it impossible. But as he continued to nag at me, I began to wonder if I could do it again. I eventually caved, partly because I was curious and partly because I was terribly bored.”

  “Didn’t your parents object, afraid you’d get hurt?” she asked.

  “I’m sure they would have if they’d have known, but I had been so surly with them after the attack they had since left me alone entirely. Redge set up a place for us to spar in a forgotten area of the castle, where no one would bother or notice. As I’m sure you can imagine I got hurt a lot at first.”

  “I bet.”

  “My body remembered how to fight, but I was very disoriented. We trained in secret every day, until I was sure my skill had reached back to the level of master. I was ready to show my father and petition him to send for a lord master to come to the castle to continue my training. My father was pleased at what I had accomplished. He seemed…proud. He agreed to find someone to come. I begged to go to the mountain where all the lord masters train, but my mother wouldn’t hear of it. There was a lot of fighting between my parents at that time. In the end I was allowed to continue my training in the confines of the castle and the lord master, Ithiel, was sent for.”

  “Ithiel? The Ithiel? The master that singlehandedly routed the northern wolf pack assassin squad?” Forest asked awed.

  Syrus chuckled. “That’s him, although that story, great as it is, has been greatly altered through the line of gossip.”

  “What’s he like?”

  “He’s everything they say he is and more.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, he’s a major pain in the ass.”

  Forest laughed lightly. “So, he gave you all those scars?”

  “Not all of them, but most, yes. He wouldn’t let me stop. No matter how high I climbed, he knew I had the power to surpass him locked inside me. He said he felt it. For a long time I had nothing else in my life but training. Strangely enough, I mastered the knack of shadowing in my sleep. I went to sleep unable to do it and woke up perfectly at ease with it.”

  “I wish you would have done that when we were sparing,” Forest said. “I’ve actually never seen anyone shadow.”

  “I’ll try to remember that the next time I pick a fight with you.” He grunted as she elbowed him in the ribs.

  “So how did it actually happen? Becoming a mage?”

  “Well, throughout all of the months that Ithiel had been training me, his greatest complaint was my temper. The Kata had given me direction and purpose, but I was still angry and bitter over the loss of my sight. He harped on and on how it would be my undoing, if I didn’t harness it.”

  Forest chuckled. “I’ve been told similar things in the past as w
ell.”

  “Yes, but you were probably told to choke it down. Ithiel took a different approach, one that blindsided me. The day my transformation happened began the same way as every other training day. It’s really simple actually: focus, forms, then fighting. During my focus, Ithiel did something he never had before; he placed one of his hands on the top of my head. Such strong waves of energy came from his palm and it felt like my thoughts were torn from my brain and pulled into a deep abyss within me. When he removed his hand, it was like waking up from a long sleep. I had never felt so centered.

  When I began my forms, again Ithiel did something unorthodox. Instead of doing forms alongside me, he stood opposite and mirrored me. I knew this because my senses were hungry and clawing at the world around me. It was the first time my mind’s eye gave me an accurate and detailed picture of what was in front of me, and it was stronger than actual sight. I would have been elated, ecstatic even, but again Ithiel was doing something different that distracted me from my newfound ‘sight.’ He was stinging me.”

  “Stinging you? How was he stinging you?”

  “With his aura. His aura began to fill the room around us. I began to feel frustrated and flustered. The stinging was not so painful; it was more confusing and irritating. But it wasn’t until I finished my forms that he began the real abuse. Usually there was a short pause in our routine once forms were done before we began fighting, but not that day. The second forms were done, he launched at me and struck me in a…ah, a very sensitive area.”

  “What the hell?” Forest interjected.

  Syrus laughed quietly. “That’s what I was thinking at the time, only in more colorful language. As you can imagine, anger does not begin to cover it. As soon as I could stand upright again, we began the most aggressive and dirty fight I had ever been in. But not only was he using moves and tactics that were usually reserved only for real life and death combat, he was hurling abuse at me with his words. Ithiel told me exactly what he thought of me, without reservation.”

  “What did he say?” she asked.

  “Ah, well. I’d rather not repeat most of it, but he did call me a coward and an angry baby.”