Mage Shifter

by Lucia Ashta

  She understood my unspoken plea immediately, moving forward. “Hey, Roberta, we’ve got places to be, elfin asses to kick and all. Would you mind letting us pass?”

  Roberta narrowed her eyes at Jas. “You’re the skunk shifter.”

  “That I am. Don’t hold it against me.”

  “I’d never dream of it. Just ‘cause we’re fluffy animals don’t mean we’re docile without a mind of our own.”

  “I hear ya, sister.”

  Roberta tipped her head back to more fully study Jas, though Jas and the rabbit were about the same height. “I think I might like you.”

  “I think I might like you.” Jas grinned like she’d truly found a soul sister. “Maybe we could hang out sometime.”

  Okay. It was official. Jas had lost whatever bit of her mind she had left. One did not hang out with killer rabbits the size of humans.

  “Heck, I’d love that, girly.” Roberta moved forward and swept Jas into a fierce hug. Halfway through it, Jas bit her lip as if she’d finally realized what she’d done. “I don’t get to have girl talk, what with all the boys around me. We could talk about all sorts a stuff.”

  And that’s what would’ve freaked me the hell out, but Jas had brought this on herself. I worked to contain the smile trying to burst through. Jas might have finally met her match in Roberta.

  “Ah, yeah, sounds, uh, cool and stuff. Um, Roberta?” Jas extricated herself from the rabbit. “We’ve really gotta go. Rina has an elf butt to kick, and a prize to claim.”

  “Am I the prize you’re referring to?” Leander asked.

  Jas nodded without looking at him.

  “It’s like I’m a piece of meat,” he said to me, but when I met eyes with him, he winked. “I guess I don’t mind being meaty.”

  “Okay, then,” I squeaked, peeking rapidly at Dad and Ky. I didn’t think they’d heard, thank God. “Time to get going.” I pulled on Leander and edged toward the gate before the situation could digress any further. “Do we have your permission to pass through?” I eyed Roberta and her sons.

  Only when Roberta nodded did Raider, Raker, and Rammer step aside.

  “Great, thanks!” I called over my shoulder while I ran through the gate. The rest of our group followed through as Roberta yelled behind me, “Good luck, Rina! I’m rooting for ya.”

  I didn’t dare say anything else. We were through the bejeweled gate, and I was speedwalking toward the massive wall of mountain that wasn’t at all what it appeared to be.

  “Mr. Mont?” Jas called.

  “Yes, Jasmine?”

  “Why’s she called Roberta Raindown?”

  “Because she rains down chaos and destruction wherever she goes,” Dad said in his matter-of-fact scholarly voice.

  “Oh,” Jas said, a bit more high-pitched than usual.

  Adalia was already laughing. “You and Roberta are going to have so much fun. Just don’t forget that you already have a bestie.”

  “Let me guess, you?” Jas grumbled.

  “That’s right. And don’t you ever forget it.” Adalia’s pretty face lit up with her amusement. “Come on, Jasmine Jolly. I’ll race you to the other side.”

  “What? I don’t wanna race...” Jas was saying, but when Adalia took off at a sprint into the mountain, Jas couldn’t help but follow, picking up speed as she went.

  Leander chuckled as I let him lead me—at an average pace—through the mountain that would deliver us back to Sedona and its red rocks, which hid enough crystals within their core to support a secret world as magical as the academy.

  III

  ~ The fae’s Golden Forest ~

  ~ Arena of Death and Destruction ~

  27

  One of Leander’s mother’s attending ladies had come to fetch me earlier that morning from the room I was sharing with Jas and Wren. Both of them had delayed their return home to their families until after my duel. Adalia had spent the night with her family in their home somewhere in the Golden Forest, which meant Jas had used the opportunity to complain about how annoyingly nice Adalia was until she’d finally realized she wasn’t garnering a lick of sympathy from either one of us, and eventually stopped.

  The queen’s attending ladies dressed me in an outfit similar to the one Leander’s mother had originally lent me, only this one had been designed expressly for me. Similarly fashioned from the bark of the wompa tree, the one-piece outfit fit me like a second skin—think sexy Cat Woman in a full-length, brown leather suit. From the frequent hungry, appreciative glances Leander had been giving me all morning, I imagined the comparison was relatively accurate.

  But even thoughts of him slipping me out of my combat outfit later weren’t enough to distract me from what was to come. I appeared to fit the role of combatant perfectly. The queen’s ladies had painstakingly arranged my waist-length hair into hundreds of tiny braids before sweeping them into multiple twisted knots that resembled roses all across my head. My posture was strong and composed, my face an impassive mask. I clutched my wooden staff in just the way Leander had shown me.

  I was shaking somewhere deep inside however, where I could no longer deny what I was about to do, though I was busy telling myself a surge of adrenaline was responsible, not fear. After all, I’d already faced down Rage and Fury and their crazy band of dark sorcerers, and I’d won when they’d all believed I’d fail.

  This time I wasn’t fighting for my life, I was fighting for something far more elusive: the right to love—the right to love across races and expectations. A right that should have been guaranteed.

  “You’ve got this, Rina!” Dad shouted from somewhere in the crowd, shocking me that his voice could be heard above the din of so many.

  I searched the stands for him and the others, finally finding them front and center, waving at me like crazy people. Dad, Ky, Boone, Dave, and Wren, Jas, and Adalia were probably the only people rooting for me there. Well, along with Leander of course, but he’d had to join his parents in the royal seating balcony directly behind me.

  Though Leander hadn’t called out anything to me after his encouraging coaching before his brother had entered the arena to join me, I could feel his support like a tingle across my skin. I doubted his attention ever left me for more than a few seconds at a time.

  “Rina! Rina! Rina!” my friends and family chanted, making themselves heard above the others.

  After no more than a few times, the royal announcer hurried out into the arena, looking harried, casting nervous glances at the king, who’d probably shoved him into the arena to put an end to my supporters’ chanting. The king was the reason behind the challenge, most concerned about appearances and power plays. Even Leander’s mom had seemed open to her son’s love for me when she’d greeted me formally upon my arrival to the court. It hadn’t been anything she’d said, just a longing in her gaze, as if she wished her son could have what had been long denied to her: a loving union.

  In a cloud of fine, white sand, the fairy with a head of tight, black curls drew to a sudden stop between Galen and me. The fairy was two-thirds my height, and wispy thin, with small, light wings pulled tightly against his back. Dressed in a taupe, gauzy outfit that barely managed to cover his manly bits, he pressed a single hand to his throat.

  “Great people of the fae,” he boomed to a quick smattering of thunderous applause. His voice was loud enough to make me wince. Obviously he was enhancing the volume of his voice with some kind of magic. “Creature guests,” he continued without pausing for applause, “it is time for a fight!” This time he did wait for the crowd to erupt, and it didn’t disappoint. The fae clapped and hollered, surprising me with what I assumed was a bloodthirsty nature.

  “Rina Nelle Mont is challenging our great prince heir, Galen Erion, for the right to be named an equal to the royal family.”

  I chewed at my lip and squeezed my staff. That wasn’t exactly accurate, but I didn’t think anybody but me and maybe my friends cared.

  Several boos popped throughout the crowd until
the announcer surprised me. In his deep, ridiculously loud voice, he scolded, “Every living creature has the right to make the challenge. Only those deserving will earn that right.”

  Okay, so the fairy just earned a few points of appreciation in my book. I dared sneak a quick peek at the king, but I didn’t find the disapproval of the fairy’s intervention that I’d expected. The king remained perfectly regal in his arena-side throne, looking down upon everyone beneath him, his face lined with polite approval. When he discovered me looking at him, he frowned and turned to whisper something to Leander. Before thinking about what the king might be saying about me got in my head, I firmly directed my attention where it belonged: on my opponent. I vowed I’d keep it there until this challenge was over. I’d receive no help from anyone. The king had made it abundantly clear that there would be severe repercussions if Leander or anyone else should intervene at any point.

  This fight, and any chance at winning it, was all on me.

  Galen had allowed me to choose my weapon first, and though I’d been certain he’d choose one of the swords or at least a bow and quiver from the racks of weapons lining the arena, I’d picked the staff. There was no way I’d be able to outmatch him when it came to weapons. I hadn’t had the chance to train with them at all. Since I’d known from the start that my only hope at defeating him lay in the application of my magic—mage and shifter—there hadn’t seemed much point, especially with all that had gone down since I’d last seen the prince heir.

  When he’d noticed me choosing the wooden staff, arguably the least offensive of all the weapons, he’d chosen the same. When I’d raised my eyebrows at him, he said, “You’re the woman my brother loves.”

  Did that mean Galen would take it easier on me? Did I want him to? Did it matter whether this was a fair fight when the odds were already so unreasonable? A nineteen year-old only just coming into her powers facing off with a twenty-three year-old trained warrior, groomed to be the next king of the fae, wasn’t exactly an even match.

  Galen stood as one would imagine a confident heir to the throne would. He wore his own wompa combat suit, his long obsidian hair braided into myriad plaits as mine was, only his braids were left loose about his shoulders and back. He was as muscular and strong as Leander, with silver eyes that reminded me of his brother’s in color, though they lacked much of the warmth and feeling I was used to seeing in Leander’s mercurial gaze.

  I startled from my thoughts when Galen began to approach me. Stopping right in front of me, he offered me a smile, surprising me again. “Cue just announced that it was time for us to bow to each other.”

  “Ah.” I smiled back. “Thank you. I’m a bit nervous,” I said, wondering whether I should have.

  The prince heir nodded once. “I understand. I wish our interactions had come under different circumstances. You’ve grown important to my brother, and despite what he might say, my brother is important to me. I’m willing to put aside my personal frustrations for him.”

  “Your brother hasn’t shared anything but good things about you. He respects you.” At least I thought he did. Since Galen was being gracious with me, I wanted to do the same. Maybe this fight didn’t have to be what the king hoped for. The king was almost certainly hoping for a humiliating defeat.

  Galen looked at me oddly, tilting his head slightly, before he bowed from the waist. I hurried to do the same and get my wits about me. If we were bowing to each other, surely we were soon to fight.

  The prince heir held the bow longer than necessary, whispering toward the ground. “I cannot take it too easy on you without risking upsetting our father. But I promise you, I will not seriously hurt you. Do not be afraid.”

  My mind scrambled to register what he was saying, and before I had the chance to reply, Galen was straightening and turning to smile at the crowd, playing the role he’d been bred for. The fae cheered their prince, hooting and whistling, ready for a true fight.

  According to Galen, it seemed we weren’t going to give it to them.

  While the crowd continued its earthshaking support of its ruling family, I deliberated until I decided I didn’t care one bit that Galen appeared ready to fudge the fight. The entire reason for this challenge was ludicrous, and if he was willing to take it easy on me, great. I would have sought the opportunity to tell him I’d take it easy on him too, but I didn’t figure he was all that worried about whatever threat I might pose.

  “Are you ready for a fight?” Cue boomed to his audience at a deafening volume, playing the role the king demanded of him perfectly.

  I hadn’t believed the crowd could get any louder. I was dead wrong.

  The various creatures of the fae roared. Their cheering spread across the stands and into the arena like a thundering avalanche. Whatever confidence I’d gained from Galen’s reassurance rushed out of me like air seeping from a balloon.

  Still … this was a long shot to begin with. I was going through the ridiculous motions of this challenge so Leander could never say I hadn’t given it my all. If I lost, so what? Leander had already said he’d strive to find the way for us to be together. In secret. Never able to be together out in the open in the world he was a part of…

  Okay. So I’d been lying to myself. I cared about winning this fight a great deal. Because though I hadn’t told him yet, I loved Leander, and my life had been complicated enough already, without considering becoming his secret mistress.

  If Galen was willing to let me win for his brother’s sake, then wonderful. Either way, I had to win this fight. I had to earn the right to love openly and freely. I couldn’t hold back. There was little risk I’d injure the prince heir, and so I had to give it my all. I deserved that, and so did Leander.

  Cue finally whistled. “That’s enough, fae. Settle down.” He chuckled, convincing me he was an artful performer. “I appreciate your enthusiasm. However, it is time … for a fight!”

  The crowd erupted again, but Cue settled their predictable reaction down more quickly this time. Turning to Galen and me, he called out, “Take your places. You know the rules…”

  No, I didn’t. Duels were new to me, obviously. It wasn’t like they were common at Berry Bramble High in Iowa.

  “Attack to incapacitate, not lethally injure. The death of one’s opponent will be met with sanctions from our great king. The last one standing is our winner.”

  I bit at my lip some more. While I couldn’t allow my humiliating defeat as the king wanted, neither could I be the cause of the prince heir’s humiliating defeat—assuming I’d get the chance to overpower him. Winning in this case was nearly as dangerous as losing. The king would definitely not appreciate it if I defeated the prince heir, but Leander wouldn’t be able to court me if I didn’t win.

  I was up a shitty-ass creek without any sign of a paddle. Damn.

  Whipping my gaze up to seek out Galen’s, I was disappointed. I’d hoped to find some solution scrawled across his face, some way to fulfill every need and conduct this challenge in a way that might benefit us both.

  But Galen’s eyes were hooded; he’d taken up a fighter’s stance, clutching his staff in front of him, each hand gripping either side of its center.

  Shit. I was out of time.

  There was nothing left for me to do but do my best, seeking victory without concern for what that might imply for Leander’s older brother, the one I was sure he loved.

  What a crappy situation.

  “Fighters, are you ready?” Cue asked loudly enough that the crowd might hear. A distinct rustling indicated that much of the audience was shifting forward in their seats, whether they sat or stood on them.

  “I am ready,” Galen said in an emotionless tone.

  Breathing in deeply to quell my jumpy nerves, I finally announced my own readiness.

  “Then let the fight begin!” Cue bellowed, and the audience hushed.

  For a few moments, all I could hear was the frantic thumping of my heart, and then Galen stepped toward me, staff poised for attack
.

  28

  The next few minutes stretched into a blur. Galen snapped his staff at me with shocking force, making contact with my body half of the time. The other half, I managed to block and parry, but with the way he was coming at me, there was no opportunity for me to strike back.

  His continuous assault forced me to retreat and focus on preventing myself from becoming one single bruise. I was already breathing heavily, sweating like I’d run a mile or two. I wouldn’t be able to keep this up much longer. Not a chance. Already my body ached all over, and my muscles strained to react quickly enough.

  Galen’s strikes were lightning fast. If this was him taking it easy, then I’d underestimated his skill. He was like a ninja Bruce Lee, wrapped in the strong, graceful lines of an elf. Which also meant he had to keep at me like this or his father would suspect he was throwing the fight.

  I was so screwed.

  My only chance to flip the tides on the momentum of his attack was to access my magic—and now.

  Slap, snap, smack. The strikes arrived with the precision and swiftness of a snakebite, while he slammed his staff across every part of my body. As he chased me across the arena, I retreated at a trot, swiveling when I could so as to put some real distance between us in spurts of forward-facing sprints. According to what was on display, I’d already lost, and badly.

  When the prince heir swept his staff under my legs, I lost my footing, falling to my back with a hollow thump that left me winded and panting for breath.

  The crowd shouted, and with the way my heart was pulsing in my ears, I couldn’t tell if any of those calls urged me up to continue the fight. Ky and Dad were probably freaking out from the beating I was taking.

  Galen raised his staff above his head. For an instant, I searched his face for some clue as to whether he expected to end it then. But his face was shut down. He was moving on muscle memory and instinct, the way a trained warrior would.