Portal to Passion

by Nina, Tara

  When they arrived, Gawyn’s men took flight and maintained clear visuals on the area for miles. If the Proprius Bestia came near, they’d be alerted. Griswaldin set up posts along the Eximius Mundus side of the shield and formed a wall of troops surrounding Tor, Visuvius and Sirius. Nothing that poked even its nose through that fissure would survive. Not as long as Griswaldin and his men lived.

  They were well armed by their latest standards. With the depletion of natural magic resources, the troops diverted from magic-oriented weaponry. No more fireball thrusters, instant incinerators, liquefiers or magical disembowelers. These weapons drained too much magic from the user and the world around them to operate. A temporary setback for the Morphionian military troops. As man, it left them vulnerable without the use of their magic.

  In bestia shape, they fought as animals, no weapons, just claws, teeth, pure stealth and muscle. In Tor’s opinion, battles should be beast against beast. Only the strongest survived. No unnatural weapons, no wielding of magical powers, just animal against animal. Tor snorted a long, heated breath. Wars between clans led to brutal battles and death. Truces founded over a century ago kept the clans amicable. With the strain of the threat of extinction and the consistent decrease of magical resources, the clans weakened. And Tor knew only a matter of time existed before patience gave way and tempers flared to life in an all-out battle for survival.

  Glancing up and down the line of men, he noted the differences, but one thing remained the same. Large or small, each wore the battle gear of destruction.

  These weapons required more operator skill than magic. Hand-to-hand combat, muscle and training created a warrior. Tor rested his hand on the solid gold handle of his weapon of choice—a huge sword. Years of training made him a master. A wry smile tainted his lips. Some thought these weapons were a step back. But Tor liked hand-to-hand combat.

  Past battles with the Proprius Bestia taught them only one thing killed them. The beast had to be pierced through the heart, which only immobilized them temporarily, it didn’t kill them. At the thought, Tor’s hand absently slid to the slender, long-bladed knife sheathed on his opposite hip. Then they had to be beheaded, thus the necessity of the huge, sharp sword. The bodies were burned and the ashes returned to the ground in hopes their magic would replenish the resources.

  So far, nothing they tried reinforced the magic. Yet another problem Tor attempted to solve. He shook his head and studied the progress of Visuvius and Sirius from his vantage point. If they discovered the source of this split in the shield, maybe they’d find a way to renew and rebuild the magic. At least, that’s what he hoped.

  “Itching for a fight, are you?” The deep timbre of Klondyk Kodiak’s voice snapped Tor from his thoughts. A giant in size, he stood several inches taller than Tor. He noted the nod of Klondyk’s head toward his hand on his knife.

  “No, Klondyk.” Tor lifted his gaze to the jet-black stare of the warrior. “I wish for peace among the clans and the Proprius Bestia. Forget not that they were once like us.”

  “So you’d have us not fight and defend ourselves.” Klondyk’s eyebrow arched as he faced Tor. “The Proprius Bestia know no reason, they listen to no man and slaughter all who land in their path.”

  “There has to be a way to reach them,” Tor stated. The Kodiaks were known to be vicious and he wouldn’t doubt the fact that the most dangerous of the Proprius Bestia were probably from that breed. “At some point, my hope is for a truce between them and us.”

  Klondyk’s gruff laughter reverberated in the thick air around him. He whipped his sword from its sheath without so much as an obvious muscle flinch. He held it pointed in the direction of the split.

  “When the time comes, Tor, your steel better leave your hip. Hesitate and you’re dead.” With that said he spun on his heels, sheathed his oversized sword and returned to his post. Anger and a hunger for battle seemed to radiate off the man as he walked, making Tor glad he was on their side.

  Visuvius’ voice whispered through the miniature mic receiver Tor had in his ear. “We’ve found something interesting. You need to see this.”

  Tor strode quickly to the opening where Visuvius and Sirius were hunched over their work. A strange black box covered in odd dials lay on the ground between them. The dials spun and an array of high-pitched hums emanated from it. Long, clear tubes sat perched in a rack on a portable table about a foot from them. Their contents bubbled and hissed. Tor heard Visuvius whisper to Sirius as he reached them and squatted to their level.

  “Run it again, Sirius. We must be sure in this discovery.”

  “What have you found?” Tor took note of their lowered voices and asked in a hushed tone. The dark look that filled Visuvius’ gaze heightened Tor’s anxiety. From the smell of the area to the bright colors that sparked in the edges of the rip, he felt in his gut Visuvius’ discovery wasn’t going to please him.

  He followed Visuvius’ lead, stood, and stepped with him toward the table. Visuvius handed him a small tube filled with a sample of the soil nearest the split. It appeared blackened and crystallized.

  “I fear this rip is manmade,” Visuvius whispered. “From our preliminary tests, someone used a volatile magical curse combined with a destructive potion to slice this hole. That caused the smell, the colors and the devastation of the ground beneath the opening.”

  One person shot to the forefront of Tor’s brain as he quickly took stock of the situation. Heat rose to a boil in his gut. Anger sizzled through his veins and steeled his spine. He’d been tricked. But why? Why bring his men so far from the palace if…

  The answer struck him right between the eyes.

  Deveney.

  “Can it be fixed?” Tor managed to push past the sudden lump in his throat. He stood on the farthest point in Eximius Mundus, as far away from the palace that he possibly could be. Deveney was in danger.

  “Yes, the edges are clean cut and easily mended with basic spells and botanical salves. Those I know,” Visuvius claimed. “Sirius and I will have it repaired by nightfall.”

  “Thank you, Visuvius. I leave this matter in your trusted hands.”

  With a nod, Visuvius returned to work on the split. Tor spun on his heels, called Griswaldin and whistled to Gawyn, who flew overhead. Gawyn landed on Tor’s extended arm.

  “I need you, my friend, to fly back to the palace. This has been a well-played ruse and I fell for it. Warn Sven a snake may be within his midst. Let him know we are on our way.”

  Gawyn nodded his acknowledgement, then took flight on a path directly to the palace. Griswaldin needed no instruction. He took immediate action. He placed men in strategic locations to protect Visuvius and Sirius while they worked, and commanded the rest to return to the palace.

  Tor jumped into the lead golden snàmh-cèaird along with Griswaldin and several of his most trusted warriors. Though he knew it wasn’t necessary, he spoke the words anyway. “Spare no energy. The palace is in danger.”

  Griswaldin smiled for the first time in Tor’s memory. “No creature shall harm the new female of the palace, my lord. I lay my life on it.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Deveney’s fingers ached from a few hours of steady sewing, but her heart soared. Almost finished, she beamed with pride over the little golden robe. Willow made two to her one, but it didn’t matter. She loved the mini-outfit.

  Sinking into a cross-legged position beside Willow on a blanket spread in the soft grass, she smiled at the other woman. “Boy or girl, either one wears a robe?”

  “We all wear robes. Do they not wear robes on Earth?” Willow cocked her head sideways as she asked.

  A ruckus of chatter disturbed the peaceful morning, ending their conversation. Nona and her grandsons entered the garden. At breakfast, they decided to have a picnic at lunch. The boys each had a hand on the basket she carried and acted as if they helped. They tried so hard to be helpful. In actuality, they hindered the progress. If left alone, Nona would have had the basket on the blanket within
a matter of minutes. But she played the patient grandmother well and encouraged their efforts.

  “Look what we brought for you,” Tiben proclaimed proudly.

  “Yeah, brought you,” Horace mimicked in his little-boy voice. “Grammy, food…umm.”

  Deveney smiled as she welcomed Tiben into her arms. His giggles tickled her spirits and made her laugh. They sat, eating and playing with the children. After lunch, Nona returned inside to work, leaving Deveney and Willow to tend to Horace and Tiben. The boys were a handful. After an hour in their presence, she understood why their mothers needed a break. Gratitude filled her that Willow helped watch them for the afternoon. Besides, it kept her mind occupied. If it weren’t for the boys and Willow, she’d be tied in knots inside with worry over Tor.

  But even with the activity, Tor never left her mind nor did her conversation with Maven. She prayed the magi had success in finding more women, and soon.

  Full bellies and a solid hour of hide and seek didn’t slow the boys. Completely pooped, Deveney tried a different game—question and answer time, with their cute little bottoms seated on the blanket. Even then they didn’t sit still. They were very active and busy, wanting to know everything. Each fired off questions one after the other about anything that popped into their brains.

  In need of a nap, Deveney suggested story time. They had to lie down and not move while she told them a story from her world. Eager to hear something from Earth, they agreed to her terms. It amazed Deveney when they complied. Each curled into a ball in front of her on the blanket. Willow lay on her side behind the boys. Looking from one to the other, Deveny ran through the list of stories she heard as a child and tried to determine which the boys would enjoy.

  Knowing how rambunctious they were, she chose to tell them a revised version of the story of Jack and the Beanstalk. In her rendition, she packed it with action and included a pair of active male bear cubs in its mix. By the end, both slept. Deveney battled a pair of heavy eyelids herself. One glance at Willow and she knew her cohort napped as well. Yawning heavily, she curled up in the warm sun beside the boys and Willow and rested.

  Hours had passed when she woke with a start. An odd sense washed over her. She sat up. She thought she heard something.

  Deveney strained to hear it again. It sounded like a low movement in the grass. The ground didn’t shake nor did she hear any footfall. This was different. She didn’t understand how she knew this, but figured it had to do with the new strength and nuances of her magic. Maven claimed Tor’s chakra was extremely strong. Combined with hers, their abilities were immeasurable.

  Did that mean she now had the sensitive hearing of an animal? Her brows bunched as she strained to distinguish the sound she thought she heard. A steady, slow glide worked its way toward them, hidden in the grass. She inhaled deep, then gasped. Not sure how or why, she knew danger lingered near.

  Before she reacted, Willow shot upright. In one swift movement, she gathered both cubs. “We’ve got to go. We’ve got to get inside. Now!”

  Deveney didn’t question her. She jumped to her feet and grabbed a squirming Horace from Willow. They ran toward the palace but were stopped by the sudden appearance of a huge cobra. It reared its ugly head and rose to an unbelievable height, hovering over them. Deveney gasped. She’d never seen a snake so large in her life. With its hood opened, the cobra’s head spread at least a good three feet wide. Willow whispered something to Tiben as she lowered him. His feet made contact with the ground and instantly he clung to Deveney.

  In the blink of an eye, Willow shifted into a glorious golden bear. She reared onto her hind legs and towered over the snake. It sprang at her, but she swatted it in the side of its head before it connected. The cobra flew through the air and landed several feet away. But more and more snakes sprang up around them.

  The roar that ripped from Willow’s throat alerted the palace. Fear rippled down Deveney’s spine. What was happening? What did these creatures want? She tightened her grip on Horace on her hip and gathered Tiben close. He hugged her leg, making it difficult to move.

  Sven came out of nowhere and shifted in midair. He landed at Willow’s side in the form of a huge golden bear. Deveney swirled around at the sudden chill of a tongue flickering down her back. She nearly tripped as she took Tiben, wrapped to her leg, along for the ride.

  The oversized green snake hovered at eye level with her. Its large, black oval-shaped eyes glared as if it sized her up for a meal. But it didn’t attack. Instead, it made some sort of odd noise. It hissed and the other snakes took action. Palace guards ran into the garden from every direction. Some shifted into bears. Others swung swords, slicing at the odd array of strange-looking giant snakes.

  When the green snake lunged at Horace, Deveney screamed, “No!” and held out her hand. Bright-blue light spread from her palm, encircled them and the snake hit the magical wall and bounced backward. Without losing her concentration, she lowered Horace to stand beside Tiben and eased in front of them. Somehow Tiben let go of her leg and grabbed Horace. It was as if he knew he needed to help Horace while she protected them. She shot him a quick wink and a smile across her shoulder, encouraging his actions. Tiben nodded and hugged Horace close. They clung together as she controlled the bright-blue magical energy now emanating from both her hands.

  Blue light surrounded her and the children, protecting them from harm. Several snakes lunged at them only to be deflected and shot several feet away. The pain-laden growl of an injured bear penetrated the air. She spun around and saw Willow sink to the ground. A cobra clung to the inside of her hind leg. She swatted and ripped its body from its head with her massive sharp claws. The fangs remained embedded. Deveney dropped her hands, but the energy lingered. She scooped up the boys and carried them, one under each arm and ran to her fallen friend. By the time Deveney reached her, Nona appeared at her daughter’s side. In bear form, she bit the cobra’s head and jerked it from Willow’s leg. Nona then shifted into her woman form and started tending the wound. Surprisingly, the sight of Nona naked didn’t bother Deveney. She took it in stride, set the boys down beside the fallen bear form of Willow and fell to her knees.

  “What can I do?” Deveney asked.

  Nona didn’t miss a beat. “Use your magic to protect us while I work on this wound.”

  Deveney spun on her knees just in time to prevent a huge constrictor from tugging Horace from Tiben’s arms. No matter how hard the constrictor pulled, Tiben refused to release his hold around Horace’s waist. Anger surged through her veins. How dare they attack the children and her friends? She shook with rage from head to toe. Heat rolled up her spine and shot down her arms. The deepest blue she’d ever seen flowed from her hands and encapsulated them, knocking the constrictor for a loop. Tiben rolled backward with Horace in his arms.

  Arrows of heat and energy surged through her. This was the most phenomenal feat of control she had mastered. She stared in awe of the power and the awesome shades of blue emanating from her hands. Each time a snake neared, she focused on the creature and sent it flying in the air on a wave of magical energy. Exhaustion threatened to weaken her, but she fought it. Grappling for any inner strength she had left, she held the protection barrier around her friends.

  At the sight of Sven staggering on his hind legs with two huge boa constrictors wrapped around him, she faltered for a moment. He needed help. His front legs were bound to his chest. With each movement, the snakes tightened their hold and squeezed the air from his lungs. When he crumbled to the ground, she knew she had to act.

  Deveney dropped the field around them and focused the energy on the snakes. In a split second, she aimed. Two bright-blue bolts shot from her palms and severed the heads from the bodies. But it was a split second more than she could afford.

  A sharp sting pierced the back of her neck. She screamed and grappled for the pointed object that stuck deep in the skin at the base of her neck between her shoulder blades. No matter what angle she tried she couldn’t reach it. A st
range sensation surged from the point of entry and seeped into her bloodstream. Within a few moments, pain riddled her movements. She sank to her knees and her arms dropped like lead weights to her sides. Breathing became difficult. She struggled to take full breaths.

  As she hit the ground, the green snake reappeared in front of her. He slithered to within inches of her nose and flicked his tongue along her lips. If she could, she would have hurled, but her body wouldn’t react. What did he want?

  She saw him shift into man form and stand. His words were muddled as a thick fog cramped her brain. Though she fought to maintain consciousness, the drug won. In slow motion, her eyelids closed. On her last conscious thought, she prayed.

  By the Goddess Nirvana and God, keep my friends, my baby and Tor safe from harm.

  * * * * *

  Tor exited the snàmh-cèaird before it came to a complete stop. He jumped to the ground and scurried to help. But he and the warriors were too late. The battle ended before they arrived. Several palace guards were dead and many others were wounded. He raced through the gardens. Though he desperately searched for Deveney, he lent a hand to each fallen comrade. Snake bodies and parts were scattered in many directions and he knew the battle was brutal.

  Where was Deveney? He had to find her.

  He broke into an all-out run and burst into the kitchen. Nona’s daughter, Chrysanthemum, applied poultices to the injured. Her sister, Violet, cut clothes into bandage strips. Several wounded men sat waiting for their assistance in cleaning their cuts and horrific gouges. He was proud of how efficiently the situation was being handled.

  Chrysanthemum spoke in a rush. “You are needed in the chambers of the healers, my ruler.”

  He didn’t reply. Deveney and the baby? Fear sliced through him. He shoved open the double doors to the wing of the healers chambers. The air gushed out of his lungs. Every healer worked to mend the wounded. Several palace guards were in the beds closest to the door. They were unconscious and covered in bloodstained bandages. healers scurried from bed to bed, doing their best to ease the pain and discomfort of the injured.