The Morgannate: The Dregian Chronicles Book 3

by D E Boske

  nonetheless.

  Sigorna materialized next to Darian one day when dusk was fast approaching. Nephraete let out a gasp of surprise, which prompted Darian to recall the way she sounded when he was deep within her. He shook it off, flashing a tight smile at the demon.

  “Can we speak privately?” Sigorna asked, glancing around at the other Mages present.

  “Of course. Step into my office,” Darian motioned for the demon to enter his personal space. Once Sigorna was close, Darian quickly sealed off the opening, creating a small secure space for them to talk freely.

  Sigorna chuckled at the Mage’s display. “The Dark Mage has stopped searching for me. He no longer calls on lesser demons to inquire as to my whereabouts or who has bound me.”

  “Interesting,” Darian replied. “Most likely, he already knows I’ve bound you.”

  “Most likely. But I haven’t made it easy on him either,” Sigorna replied.

  “Nor should you.”

  “Darian, I’m concerned about you. Your strength has grown exponentially since you bound me. That should not be possible.”

  “I’m touched by your concern,” said the Mage and the demon couldn’t tell if he was being sarcastic or not. He did not provide further explanation though and Sigorna didn’t even consider asking. One thing he’d learned from working with Darian was that if the Mage wanted to tell him, he would, in his own time. If Darian didn’t want you to know something, no amount of cajoling, browbeating, or begging would make him budge.

  Whispers emanated from the fog, as if their names were exhaled on the lips of the dead. A shiver ran through Nephraete when she heard her name. She ignored them as Darian had bade them all upon landing on the shores of the damned. Darian gave them strict instructions to ignore everything they may hear and she intended to adhere to his advice. For who would be stupid enough to disregard a Mage of The Order?

  Shaz heard the pained whispers begging him to join them. He ignored it and kept walking. But as they walked deeper, the insistence grew to a deafening crescendo that became harder to ignore. The pleas became a part of each of them, their own thoughts and feelings and not those of the Haunted Lands’ inhabitants.

  Mordinian kept to himself, much like Darian and now understood why the Mage did so. He began to hear the incessant whispers of the dead before the others and blocked it out. He was a thief, with a thief’s skill, so his concentration was paramount. The farther they went, the harder it became to ignore the urgent, Haunted, demands.

  53

  Tynuviel walked to the waterfall where she’d always felt an overwhelming sense of peace. Her days were dark now, her memories haunting her waking steps. She missed Darian so much! She loved him more than she’d ever loved anyone or anything, but the thought of him also sickened her and made her angry. The hatred and anger she felt, battled with the love she held for him, making her crazy with the rush of contradicting emotions. She felt deeply betrayed and couldn’t forgive what had been done to her.

  She slowly withdrew from everyone and sought solace in the Ancient Forest. She spent a great deal of time alone, trying to come to terms with what happened to her. She knew that Darian hadn’t raped her or done those terrible things to her. But it was his face her attacker wore and so it was he who committed those heinous acts against her. Her reasoning was unsound, she knew it, but it made no difference to her shattered psyche.

  It didn’t matter how ridiculous it was, her mind was broken and there was no coming back from that. Tireniel had tried so many times to talk to her, to help her through this but she couldn’t stand the sight of him. She trusted no one. Now he was gone too. He’d left with Darian and she felt more alone without him. Her paranoia spiked and she found herself deeper in the forest than she’d ever been. She ran blindly and had no idea where she was. Nothing looked familiar to her.

  Her heart hammered in her chest as she heard a twig snap nearby. Her head spun in the direction of the sound and found a deer nibbling the foliage. She tossed her head back, laughing hysterically, until she tired herself out. The deer was long gone, the sun was setting, and still she sat hiding.

  “Where is my daughter?” roared Galavad, the elven guard shrinking from his ire.

  “I did not see her leave,” the guard assigned to the elven princess responded. He was disgraced and only her retrieval could give him some form of forgiveness.

  “Go find her! She’s not been right since…” he could not bring himself to continue. “I don’t care how many of you go without rest, do you understand me? She is not in her right mind and shouldn’t be alone. She is the princess of Kiri A’ Nouell!”

  The elven guard assembled quickly and left to find Tynuviel. The forest was huge, it would

  take days to comb it and find her but not one of them complained. They all loved Tynuviel and ached with what had been done to her. She always had a kind word to say to them and they appreciated her perspective and went to her often for her advice.

  The beautiful princess hadn’t smiled in far too long. The sound of her laughter used to fill the forest and their hearts with such joy. But now its absence made the forest feel lifeless and cold.

  The forest was quiet and dark, the night creatures coming to life, but the elves did not fear them for they knew the forest well. It spoke to them, the images coming to life in their minds, silently voicing the forest’s wishes. The forest made them aware of every creature within her canopy and steered them toward Tynuviel.

  Tynuviel awoke, paralyzed with fear. “Where am I?” she asked aloud. She heard a large creature nearby and froze. The forest could not reach her shattered mind and was unable to soothe her. The creature was drawing closer and still, she could not move. At last, a magnificent head broke into the clearing and walked up to her.

  Tynuviel sat frozen in shock. A gloriously beautiful white unicorn stood before her, so white and pure, it shimmered in the bright moonlight. Its horn glowed with a warm, comforting brilliance as it bent its head to her.

  Tentatively, she reached out to stroke the majestic animal and it nuzzled her hand. It bumped her with its horn until she touched it hesitantly. Warmth seeped into her, and a sense of peace took over. Her mind cleared and she was able to think once more.

  The unicorn bent down so she could climb onto its broad back and took her through the forest as if it knew where to go. Tynuviel talked to it in her sweet, soft voice and the unicorn seemed to understand. She told her story because she felt safe to do so. After all, who could the unicorn tell? Its crystalline eyes regarded her with an intelligence that amazed the elf.

  The regal animal carried its precious cargo for several hours until worried, elven voices could be heard. The elven guard came stiffly alert as they heard someone or something approaching. When the unicorn emerged and Kiel saw who the beast was carrying, he let out a cry of relief.

  “Takasha! Tynuviel, are you alright? We’ve been looking everywhere for you!”

  “I’m fine, Kiel. Thank you. I’m sorry for worrying you all. I…” Tears streamed down her cheeks and the elven guard felt their hearts clench, mirroring her pain.

  Kiel took her in his arms and held her for a long time as she wept. He did not speak; his presence was enough to soothe her. He smelled of the forest, leather, and his own scent, prompting her to recall images of him from her childhood, steady, strong, and sure. She knew this elf. He would never hurt her, she knew that. But the longer she remained in his embrace, the more anxious she became until her fight or flight instincts began to kick in. Kiel sensed the abrupt change in her and released her. The princess had a wild look in her eyes and he couldn’t begin to imagine what she was going through.

  “I’m sorry, Tynuviel. I didn’t mean to frighten you. I hope you know that I would never hurt you, nor would I let anyone else. I would kill the offender,” Kiel said softly.

  She snorted, “Like the offender who left with Darian? Because you all know what he is responsible for! How could you let him walk free?” Her anger quickly ret
urned, swallowing her pain and agony with frightening intensity.

  “Believe me, it was not by choice. The elves want blood for what was done to you, but…” Kiel drifted off.

  He didn’t want to exacerbate the situation by reminding them all that it was none other than Darian who commanded that Raschel go free. If it wasn’t for Darian’s loyalty to Kiri A’ Nouell and Galavad, Kiel would have run his sword through that little wretch. He didn’t trust him. He didn’t know why, there was just something…

  “I know, I’m sorry. That wasn’t fair. I know that each of you would die to protect me. I just… can’t…”

  “It’s ok, Tynuviel. Don’t apologize. We’re here for you and anything you need, no matter the hour, all you have to do is ask.”

  “Thank you, Kiel,” she said, kissing his cheek.

  “You’re welcome, my lady,” he replied, bowing low.

  The elven guard returned with Tynuviel, the unicorn following closely on her heels. She rested her hand on its silken mane, a shimmering reflection of the rainbow.

  “Thank you for finding me,” she whispered. “What shall I call you?” The unicorn regarded her with an intelligence that was comforting. It nuzzled her hand and she gladly stroked the animal’s silky fur.

  At once, it came to her, as if the animal expressed its name, “Bri O’ Dahn!” The animal tossed its head, nodding in approval and bumped up against her. She giggled in girlish delight and Kiel breathed a heavy sigh of relief.

  Tynuviel had been through so much since Darian walked into their lives. He knew the Mage wasn’t at fault as he suffered terrible losses as well. He clenched his jaw as the vision of his sister emerged once more. The scene was grisly. The elven guard tried to hold him back, to spare him the pain and horror, but he pushed past them, needing to see for himself. Now, those memories haunted him but he couldn’t give in to them. He was an Elflord and he needed to act like one. Kiri A’ Nouell needed him and he wouldn’t let her down.

  “Dalyn, how close are we to the Banshee?” asked the Mage one evening, as they sat closely

  packed together.

  “About a week or more,” he replied, looking at ease.

  “How have you made it through unscathed?” asked Darian curiously.

  “I am one elf, we are many. I think they feel threatened by our presence and are reacting accordingly.”

  “Hmm,” Darian said thoughtfully, his voice sending pleasurable reverberations through his lover.

  “I can see that,” responded the young Mage. “Were you ever attacked?”

  “Came close a few times, but no.”

  “What was different between the trips? Did you do anything differently?”

  “Not that I know of. When I come here, it’s to collect rare plants, which will prove a great benefit to you, I’m sure. I am always careful to follow the same path that I have put us on and I never stray. I know what lurks here,” the elf responded.

  Renlyss couldn’t take her eyes off Darian. His eyes sparkled with mischievousness and his lips… looked delicious. She knew now was not the time or place but wanted him just the same. He looked in control and determined and she loved him more than she ever thought possible. She still couldn’t believe that he was hers. Never imagined the powerful Mage could be tamed.

  He laughed at something Dalyn said and her heart fluttered. He was so damn gorgeous. But he no longer acted like he used to when they first met. He wasn’t humble, not at all! But somehow changed. He wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close to him, as he continued his conversation with his advisor. She snuggled into him, laying her head on his shoulder and felt his hands running down her back. She wanted them on her full breasts. They were growing larger as the baby within her grew. She wanted his lips on her body, wanted him buried inside her. She was so excited and couldn’t contain it.

  The Mage must have sensed her emotions because he brought his lips to hers, tongue slipping between her lips easily and masterfully. Her hand slid down to touch him, finding him hard and ready, but he made no move to seduce her further. She was frustrated and yearning for his touch but he did not give in.

  “Reny, I am seeking the Dark Mage and all my concentration is bent on it. I cannot afford to become distracted,” he explained and she felt like an asshole now.

  “I know my love, I’m sorry. I just miss you,” she whispered, kissing him again.

  “I miss you too, believe me,” he responded. “I can’t wait to make it back to Kiri A’ Nouell.”

  “Can’t we go to your tower?” she pleaded, needing to be alone with him.

  “No, the Dark Mage is too close, doll. I cannot risk any of the Mages finding out where

  it’s hidden.” She felt like such a fool for suggesting it but her desire was overcoming good sense.

  “Once we are back aboard the ship, I will feed you until you are full,” he whispered, tongue slipping between her lips once more.

  “Mmm, I can’t wait, Mage,” she responded.

  Five days later, as the sun was setting somewhere where people could take note, they stopped near a running stream. Darian went off to bathe and soothe his nattering mind. He’d just put clean clothes on when he heard a peculiar noise.

  His wards were in place and he tightened them as he felt something dangerous and lethal nearby. There was nothing there but he did not dismiss the noise he heard. Just because he couldn’t see anything, didn’t mean there was nothing there. The Order taught him much at an early age.

  A twig snapped about thirty feet away from him. Goose flesh rippled across his arms as a foul breeze brought the smell of death. The smell of fresh blood hung heavy in the air. Suddenly, the air became thick and heavy as an unnatural silence descended on the area.

  A figure appeared on the opposite bank, the image flickering as if the apparition were struggling to remain firmly on this plane. A headless woman drenched in blood, naked to her waist appeared holding something, but he couldn’t quite make it out due to the distance and gore. The apparition flickered rapidly and appeared in the middle of the stream. She was coming closer.

  Darian stood rooted to the spot. Something about the figure was vaguely familiar in some macabre way, though he couldn’t imagine how. The phantom flickered again and stepped onto the bank about sixty feet away from Darian. She was holding her head, the mouth opening, he supposed to keen her warning, but he heard nothing.

  He spun around on instinct and Raschel was there, diving into the path of a wicked looking blade aimed for the young Mage’s heart. The blade buried itself into Raschel, glowing a shimmering black. He crumpled to the ground, gasping for breath that would not come. Blood oozed from the corner of his mouth and he shuddered as death drew near.

  Darian fell to the ground and immersed himself in the Orb’s magic to save his friend. He began casting earnestly, singing to the Orb and bringing it to life in a blaze of blinding silvery grey light. He threw everything he had into saving Raschel, feeling guilty for withdrawing from him, his only friend from Piri-Tuma.

  Soon, Raschel’s color began to return as his breathing became normal. Darian placed the Orb of Healing back inside his Shryvven and raised Raschel so he could drink.

  Kelindril, Nym, and Tarathys found them and Kelindril was irate. “I suppose you think

  that was terribly clever? How am I supposed to protect you when you disappear without telling me?”

  “You’re my guard, so guard me!” Darian snapped and Kelindril was about to say something more, but Nym stopped him. He could tell Darian wasn’t in the mood.

  “What happened, Darian?” asked Nym, as much for clarity as for a distraction for the powerful Mage.

  Darian told him everything that happened and the Gor Li’ Khan listened intently. The banshee shrieked and Darian’s blood turned cold. He heard her this time. He spun to look more closely at this creature and froze. Jalissa? The girl he once knew, his first lover.

  “What have you become?” he asked, his words tinged with sorrow. They’d sp
ent so many blissful days in each other’s embrace in the throes of young, inexperienced passion. His memories were fond ones. He still had the drawing she’d given him what felt like a lifetime ago.

  Her keening increased in volume and Nym crumpled to the ground. Although he could not directly hear her cry, since it was meant for Darian’s ears alone, it held magic that touched the Weave and the vibration had the elf twitching on the ground. Kelindril did not spare a glance for his friend for his full attention was on his charge.

  “I’m in no danger, Kel,” explained the young Mage, as he saw the Gor Li’ Khan draw his twin blades.

  “How can you be so sure?” he asked.

  “Because, a banshee’s appearance is a warning, not an attack. They come to those they knew in life to warn of imminent danger.”

  “You knew this wretch in life?” asked Kelindril.

  “I did,” admitted Darian. “She was my lover for many months. I…” he faltered as Jalissa came closer.

  “It’s my fault she’d dead. We…” The only time Kelindril saw the Mage so obviously upset and unable to form words was when Tynuviel and Renlyss broke off their affair with him. Which meant…

  “You love her!” he exclaimed, unable to hold back his observation.

  “I suppose I do,” he sighed. “I’m terrified what this means for Reny. Every woman I’ve loved has died or worse.” The banshee keened one more time, then began to fade.

  “Wait! Jalissa, I’m sorry. I’m sorry they punished and murdered you because of me. Can you forgive me?”

  The banshee flickered and disappeared and in its place was the ghost of Jalissa. She came to Darian and touched his face. She was beautiful and her touch took him back to those days so long ago. He ached with her loss and realized that that’s when he became so uncontrollable. He was devastated for months after her death and rebelled against The Order. He endured countless punishments and stoically took them all, feeling like it was the least that he deserved.