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Wyvern Awakening (Mage Chronicles #1)

Page 5

by Joanna Mazurkiewicz


  I smile weakly, telling myself it’s not Emilia’s fault. She has no idea the mage is a murderer, and I prefer her to stay ignorant for now.

  “I won’t have time to watch it. I have to run over to the forest again,” I lie, hating I can’t be honest with her, at least not just yet. Maybe after I get selected we can have a heart-to-heart. That way I won’t jinx anything.

  She frowns, looking surprised as she studies me for a moment. Lenin promised not to say anything to her and so far he’s been careful. Normally, he brags about everything I do. Jetli must be keeping an eye on him.

  “What? Nonsense. You have to go and watch it. This is the most exciting event since the initiations of Dragons,” Emilia says.

  “I’m sure you’ll give me a full report later. Don’t worry about me. You go and have fun. I’ll see you tomorrow,” I say, then nod toward a customer waiting.

  She sighs and leaves to take care of Mrs. Perkins who’s probably looking to buy more of her snakeskin.

  My energy raises the tiny hairs on the back of my neck—feeling like ghostly tendrils creeping up my spine. I’ve been trying to concentrate and stay focused, but my nervous dynamism is getting the better of me. Ten minutes later, it’s time to wake Lenin and Jetli up. I need to prepare myself before Emilia asks any more questions.

  “Oh man, I dreamed I was flirting with a fairy princess. She was so hot,” Lenin says stretching himself, and Jetli rolls her eyes.

  “We haven’t got much time. I have to change and you need to help me with your magic,” I tell them, knowing Jetli can play with her Pixie charms to change some of my features. Once I get through, the duke won’t have any choice but to let me compete. Other shifters will most likely be talking about me, but at this point I don’t care—I’m on a mission. I can’t allow what others think affect me any longer. I know Emilia will be disappointed I kept this from her, but in the long run, she’ll understand my reasons for being so secretive.

  I head out to the Black Forest to collect a few more herbs that might be useful later. The silence is slowly becoming unnerving—I don’t hear any birds today—it feels… odd. I stop after I make sure I’m out far enough and unpack my rucksack. I change into my training clothes and put my favourite boots on. I use Emilia’s black paste to cover my scar, smudging the bits all over my face.

  “You look like a total badass, Astri, but I prefer you as a blond,” Lenin comments while Jetli uses her charms to mess around with the colour of my hair. Suddenly, my stomach’s in knots. I feel like I’m trying too hard to be someone else entirely.

  “Thank you, Lenin. You actually said something nice for a change,” I chuckle and Jetli giggles.

  “Don’t get used to it. And win this thing. I really don’t want you to go back to the basement,” he says, and I have to agree with him. My aunt and uncle aren’t my family, and it’s time to cut them off forever.

  I glance at my refection in my small mirror, barely recognising myself. Jetli must have tampered with my eyes too, because they’re wider and the colour seems much more intense now. Nature didn’t bless me with huge boobs, so I can easily cover the fact I’m a woman wearing an armoured suit.

  My palms are damp with sweat when I put everything back into the rucksack and hide it under a large oak tree. The bag isn’t important. I can come back for it anytime. From there, I ask Lenin and Jetli to hide behind my collar and I start running toward the castle grounds. I get back to town just in time for the contest to begin. The grounds are crowded as expected and a lot of shifters are staring at my new, bizarre look.

  The duke’s people set up a stage at the bottom of the field. I join a group of male shifters. Some of them are wearing masks too and in some ways I’m relieved I’m not the only one dressed up. There’s at least a dozen of them, and as I suspected, I’m the only woman in the group.

  The crowd’s situated on the tribunes, most likely set up for today’s event. Doubts start slipping in and my heart’s suddenly racing away. As I gaze around at my competition, my insecurities begin creeping in again. Maybe I don’t really stand a chance, I think, standing alongside a six-foot shifter who looks more like an ancient warrior.

  Holy shit, he’s huge!

  Breathe, Astri. You can do this. You’re just as skilled as they are, even if they tower over you. Size means nothing when it comes to skill.

  “I hope the duke will allow us to shift during the first task. I’m looking forward to showing everyone a spectacle of fire,” says the tall, broad shifter with vibrant, blue eyes. His muscles ripple on top of one another, popping out of his T-shirt. He seems almost too confident he’ll be selected. No doubt, he’s injecting himself with a special magical formula to increase his size; his whole body looks unnatural. I spot Damian standing in front, looking proud and calm.

  We wait for another ten minutes before I see any movement on stage. First, a few guards appear, then my inner dragon begins to release pent-up energy throughout my entire body—I’m buzzing with electricity.

  Shock holds me immobile for several moments as I watch him take a seat in the first available chair. His eyes move over the crowd first; then he glances down at the contestants. I feel like I’m back in my dream when I was ten years old, remembering that same, creepy smile.

  Jorgen has long, snowy silver hair. He’s dressed in a black handmade jacket, embedded with shimmering crystals; the Rivenna symbol is embroidered on his front lapel. He’s wearing black leather pants completing his “all black” ensemble, with a long sword hanging at his side. My heart skips as bitter anger surges through me, filling every part of me with hatred for this man.

  The duke’s eyes are deep blue and I don’t dare move when his gaze lingers on me for several beats. I have to concede—Emilia’s right. The Duke’s definitely handsome, with an enigmatic energy that radiates around him. It pains me to agree, but he’s tall and very well built. I have to remind myself: in my nightmare, he was ten years younger; now he’s at least in his mid-thirties.

  Minutes drag by and my breathing becomes erratic. I try to take in long, deep breaths in order to calm myself. It’s only my nerves, nothing more. The Pixies are hidden behind my collar, but I feel them stirring around, attempting to peer out in order to see what’s happening. They must sense my demeanour has changed. Finally, the duke gets up and steps in front of the microphone to address the crowd. He has a ring on his left index finger in the shape of a dragon, symbolising his power and strength as a mage shifter.

  “Dear people of Rivenna and most honoured contestants. I’m happy to see so many citizens here today to watch as history takes place upon these castle grounds. I’ve been thinking of a competition such as this for quite some time, but until recently my ideas never came into fruition. You’re not only going to watch how shifters compete against one another; you have the rare opportunity to catch a glimpse of their strengths, skills and unique shifter abilities. The contest will take place over the span of several weeks. Today, I’m going to pick five contestants who will be residing within the castle walls, where they will train under my watchful eye,” he says with a powerful voice.

  Anger floods my veins and it takes everything within me not to lash out. I’m staring at a monster who killed my parents, wondering how he lives with himself. He's taken the life of innocent shifters, and scarred me forever. He can’t get away with this.

  The crowd starts applauding when the duke finishes his speech. Damien’s wife has a banner that says GO, DAMIAN, GO! YOU’RE MY WINNER! I spot Emilia in the crowd too; her colourful tunic can’t be missed even from this distance.

  I squeeze the handle of my knife until my knuckles are white, thinking about barging in on the scene. I want the duke’s blood—I need it, but I must be patient and somehow gain his trust. My revenge will take time, but it’ll happen when he least expects it.

  “All right, so the first task will be to determine if you have the skill I’m looking for,” the duke continues with the smile. “I want all contestants to head over to the
Black Forest and bring me back hemlock root. You have until sundown to return. Good luck.”

  “Well, that’ll be pretty easy. See you around, losers,” shouts the large shifter, as he waves towards us and takes off.

  Others follow him and, a moment later, laughter from the audience brings me back to reality. The duke stares at me while one of his people leans over whispering something into his ear.

  “Astri, what are you waiting for? Let’s go,” Lenin hisses in my ear, but I can’t move. I’m paralysed by his eyes. I want him to recognise me—admit he’s a killer in front of everyone.

  I shake it off, knowing he’ll never admit to murder. I have to be the one to bring him to justice. Standing here paralysed by fear will not win this contest. I need to move. I know the Black Forest better than any shifter in Rivenna. Nothing can stop me but myself.

  I turn around and jog toward the forest. My heart’s pounding loudly in my chest with a vigorous mixture of nerves and excitement.

  “Woo hoo! We’re off to kick some butt, Astri!” Lenin shouts, flying next to me with Jetli. I tell myself to get it together. This task is pretty straightforward and I know what to do. If I want to be selected, I need to be quick. Now I’m certain the duke didn’t recognise me. In a sense, I’m glad because it helps set my plan in motion.

  I have no idea if the other contestants know hemlock’s root is one of the most toxic herbs in the Eastern World. If not, I definitely have an advantage.

  Some of the contestants are shifting into their dragons, others continue to run on foot. I want to laugh because none of them realise being in their true form won’t help them find the herb or get selected. For the most part, they only had to pay attention in biology class and have some real world knowledge about the root itself. Hemlock root only grows in certain parts of the forest. While this task seems easy, I suspect the duke has other plans up his sleeve. A diversion of sorts—he wants us to believe we won’t have to face any other challenges along the way. My guess? This quest isn’t going to be as easy as it seems. It won’t be without difficult obstacles. I need to keep my eyes and ears open.

  I’m on form, but I have to run several miles before I reach the Black Forest. Adrenaline’s coursing through my body as I start hopping between trees.

  Hemlock’s root flourishes in moist air and usually grows by the river, preferring very little sunlight. Many shifters have no idea it looks very similar to other types of plants and can’t be touched with bare hands due to its toxicity.

  I finally stop somewhere around the edge of the forest when my chest begins to burn and my legs are aching from exhaustion. I walk around for a bit, trying to locate the river. After an hour, I get down on my knees and start searching for the plant closer to the ground in the thick, wild bushes. I have no idea how my aunt and uncle are going to react when I announce to them I’m moving out. As far as I’m concerned I‘ve paid them more than enough, so they’re going to be glad they don’t have to look at my nasty scar any longer.

  “Astri, Astri. I think you should look up. We have a company,” Lenin hisses in my ear, and a second later I’m aware of a beast standing very close to me. I lift my head and see a pair of yellow eyes belonging to a huge, wild wolf blocking my only way out. I swallow hard, wondering why I didn’t sense the animal sooner. It looks like this task isn’t going to be easy at all.

  Chapter 6

  The chosen ones.

  I don’t dare move; the wolf is huge—at least three meters long and has wide, pointed claws. In the short time I was a huntsman, I killed many animals, but none like this one. There’s something strange and unusual about it. The animal growls viciously, circling around me. I’m his prey and he won’t hesitate to tear me apart. Saliva drips down from his enormous mouth and I swallow hard, knowing my options are pretty limited.

  My inner dragon screams to be unleashed, and suddenly it’s clear someone must have enhanced this beast with deadly magic. I can see my own scarred refection in his yellow eyes.

  “All right, you’re a good boy, a very good boy,” I say, sounding stupid, but I have no idea what to do or say to calm the beast before me.

  The wolf bends his legs, bristling his shiny fur, snarling even louder. Okay, so my strategy isn’t really working and my Pixies just disappeared.

  “Hey, you big, furry arsehole. You won’t catch us!” Lenin shouts, unexpectedly appearing behind the beast. Jetli’s waving her hand and sticking her tongue out. They’re both trying to direct attention away from me.

  The wolf turns around, snarls louder and vanishes into the bushes, leaping after the Pixies, before I have a chance to react. I start running as fast as I can, hoping Lenin knows what he’s doing. A split second later an inhuman roars spreads through the forest and I stop dead in my tracks. Birds fly from the nearest tree and I finally remember my new ability. I don’t know why I haven’t thought about it before now. I feel the new power rising within my core and focus on not being seen. A familiar rush of vulnerability courses through my veins until I see my hands and legs disappear. I’m free—I wrap myself in a cloak of invisibility and launch into the nearest, wide-set tree when I see the beast appear not too far from me.

  He growls, while circling around the bushes, trying to jump over the tree. The beast can’t see me, but it can still sense me. Lenin disappeared somewhere, and I can only hope he’s all right. I remove my blade from its sheath attached to my back and take a few deep breaths. Jetli appears next to me and sits on my arm, looking scared. My heart’s jackhammering in my chest, and in the distance, I spot one of the other contestants sneaking around the bushes. He has his back to me, so I don’t know who he is. The wolf sniffs him and shortly after, decides to abandon chasing after me.

  A few minutes later, I hear the shifter screaming out in pain. The beast must have attacked him. For a moment, I only hear vicious gnashing of sharp teeth which can only mean one thing—the wolf’s tearing the poor man apart. I push my palms to my ears and close my eyes. The shifter doesn’t stand a chance. I can only hope he’ll live through the attack or find a way to fight back. Jorgen must have sent the wolf to make this task more difficult for everyone–to see if any of us will return unharmed. After a few, long minutes pass, the forest is quiet with the exception of my heart beating frantically in my chest.

  I get down on my knees and start moving around the bushes again, spotting the shifter’s blood everywhere. Jorgen created this competition to discover real talent—someone who isn’t afraid of challenges and won’t back down from a threat. I’m not sure many realise just how dangerous this task is beyond the surface.

  I allow my cloak of invisibility to fall, feeling my magic hum from head to toe, becoming visible once more. I begin moving around the trees, when Lenin appears. I’m so relieved he’s unharmed. If he weren’t so tiny, I’d squeeze him.

  “The tall shifter is in bad shape. He killed the wolf, but he’s bleeding awfully bad, walking towards town now. It was all pretty gross,” Lenin says, looking positively freaked out.

  “That could’ve been me out there. I should’ve known Jorgen was planning something like this—he’s sadistic. He must have charmed more than one wolf. Did you see the size of that thing?”

  “Yeah, it was magic. I think you should find the herb and get back to the castle,” Lenin says and I can’t help but agree.

  The smell of blood twists my stomach, but I drop to my knees again, telling myself I’ve killed many wild animals in the past. I can’t allow this to be any different. Otherwise, I won’t be able to go on. Lenin’s right: I need to locate the hemlock root and head back to the castle before additional enchanted animals cross my path again.

  Hearing the river in the background, I know I’m in the right place. My inner dragon thrives on excitement, craving the adventure, but this isn’t the time to let her go wild.

  “Are you sure the shifter doesn’t need my help?” I ask Lenin.

  “No, Astri, he's going to be fine. You shouldn’t be worried about your competi
tion,” the Pixies remind me.

  The ground's muddy, and I have to be careful not to step on the root; otherwise the toxins will blind me. I’ve come across it in the forest only a few times before, so I know the root can disappear in one place and appear in another. I always enjoyed biology lessons, so it was only natural for me to get involved with herbs and other plants. Emilia’s only a few of many witches in town who know anything about magical spells and potions. She’s been studying it most of her life.

  “Jetli says you look funny crawling on the ground,” Lenin chuckles.

  “Lenin, if you really want me to take you with me, then stop making jokes and help me. You know what the hemlock’s root looks like, right?” I ask, aware that soon I’m going to be covered in mud from head to toe.

  The Pixie agrees and disappears behind the bushes, mumbling incoherent words to himself. I smell the plant before I see it, holding my hand only inches away from the poisonous spikes of the hemlock’s root. It has a similar smell to pine and liquorice, but overall it’s not pleasant. Lenin managed to distract me—one wrong move and I could’ve been blinded or worse! If I didn’t love him…”

  “Jetli, there's a red liquid in my pocket. Sprinkle some of your dust on the root. We have only a few minutes before it disappears to another part of the forest,” I whisper, aware my hand is getting numb.

  This is an awkward position to be in and I know Jetli’s struggling to take the small flask out of my pocket. Where the hell is Lenin when I need him?

  Eventually, Jetli manages to pull the red liquid out and hand it to me. Moments later, she sprinkles her Pixie dust over the plant and sits on a leaf.

  “You found it, great. Now we can go back,” Lenin says, startling me again and I nearly drop the flask.

  I take a deep breath and steadily pour the contents onto the root. The spikes disappear and I safely pull out the roots and shove them inside my pocket.

 

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