Island Shifters - An Oath of the Blood (Book One)

  Vance shrugged and unlocked the door. “Need help?”

  “No, stay here. This won’t take long.”

  ***

  Kiernan threw open the balcony doors of her bedroom chambers and stepped out onto the cold mosaic tile with bare feet. Leaning against the stone balustrade, she inhaled the night air hoping to dispel some of the unease that wormed its way inside of her. War loomed and the greatest chance of victory Massa had depended on whether she and the other shifters successfully penetrated Callyn-Rhe and uncovered her secrets. She shook her head. The Mage is holding something back, I’m sure of it. But, what?

  Restless, she turned and walked back into the room.

  Bajan was curled before the fireplace impassively grooming himself. She glared at him.

  Well?

  Well what?

  Massa will soon be at war.

  Yes, I heard. Lick, lick.

  We are going to your homeland of Callyn-Rhe.

  Yes. Lick

  Bajan! I need your help here! I have so many questions.

  I am not surprised. Lick.

  The first of which is what kind of power do you think is hidden at Callyn-Rhe?

  I cannot be sure. I have never been there.

  Do you think we will be able to find it?

  We must. Lick, lick.

  I wonder what Galen meant by me being a pureblood?

  There was a knock on the door.

  Finally, someone I can talk to, she sneered at Bajan. He didn’t so much as glance in her direction as he continued his cleaning.

  She answered the door to find her childhood friend standing outside. “Larkin! Come in.”

  After a brief embrace, Larkin walked in and sat down on the bed with a lively bounce. “I’ve really missed you!” she complained, lying back with her hands behind her head. “It’s been positively boring around here since you left.”

  Kiernan smiled and sat by her on the bed. “You? Bored? Never.”

  The dark-haired beauty turned on her side to look at Kiernan conspiratorially. “So, out with it! Tell me all about your handsome earthshifter. Every detail, mind you!” she demanded.

  Kiernan’s cheeks heated and she rose from the bed. For some reason, she no longer wanted to discuss her relationship with Beck. It was too special, too intimate now, and all hers. “We’re not little girls anymore, Larkin, sharing every little secret,” she chided.

  Larkin sat up, her smile vanishing. “Truth be told, we didn’t share all of our secrets back then either, did we?” Larkin looked in her eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  Kiernan didn’t have to ask what she was talking about. She shrugged. “Scared, I guess. I knew that if I was found out, I would be sent to Pyraan, so I kept it to myself for many years.”

  Larkin grabbed her hands. “I was your best friend, Kiernan. I never would have betrayed your secret.”

  “I know. I am sorry.”

  Apparently, satisfied with the apology, Larkin changed the subject. “What is the matter with that friend of yours, Rory? He acts very strange, Kiernan, and gives me the creeps.”

  Kiernan laughed. “You couldn’t tell that from where I’ve been watching! You’ve been cornering the boy every chance you get.”

  “Only to get answers,” she sniffed. “He slinks around all the time, poking his nose in places where it doesn’t belong.”

  At the sound of another knock, Kiernan got up and opened the door wide in invitation to Beck, Rogan and Airron. After they stepped in, she looked out in the hall in both directions. “Where’s Rory? Isn’t he with you?”

  Airron lifted his shoulders. “No. He wasn’t in his room.”

  Kiernan shut the door and Beck leaned in close to give her a small kiss on her lips that sent a jolt through her entire body. She resisted the urge to hug him close to her. There, burrowed within the strength of his arms, was comfort and safety. Out here, there was nothing but danger and anxiety.

  He pulled back to look at her, his blue eyes full of the singular knowledge he now possessed. He wiggled his eyebrows at her and smiled.

  “Stop it!” she hissed, her face warming.

  Beck laughed aloud and the innocence of the sound helped to soothe her frazzled nerves more than anything else could have.

  Suddenly playful, she turned to Airron. “I thought you were going to meet with Lady Knapp?”

  Taking a seat next to Larkin, Airron bounced on the bed causing the girl to squeal. “Alas, the lady appears to have fallen out of the mood for love. Pronouncements of war tend to do that, I’ve heard.”

  Rogan shook his head. “Has everyone gone mad? I don’t know what is in the air around here, but we have important matters to deal with.” He looked at Larkin. “If you will excuse us?”

  Larkin resignedly made her departure amid hugs and a promise to see Kiernan again before she left Nysa.

  As soon as the door shut behind her, Rogan wasted no time. “Airron was right. The pendants that he and Beck have in their possession do have a connection. Now, Kiernan and I just have to locate ours so we can unlock this map. Kiernan, any idea where yours might be?”

  She shook her head and sat on a chair to put her sandals on. “None, but I will ask my father this evening to see what he knows.”

  Rogan looked worried. “I wish I knew where to search for mine. I suppose I’ll have to start with my family home in Deepstone.”

  Beck nodded. “Makes sense. We should also go see Titus to let him know what’s happened. I want to reassure him that we’ll be back for him once this is over. Let’s go.”

  Beck and Airron walked out the door, and Kiernan laced her arm through Rogan’s in comfortable companionship as they followed behind. “Don’t worry, Rogan, you’ll find your pendant, I know it. And, just think! You’ll finally get a chance to visit the homeland you haven’t seen in years.”

  His brown eyes brightened slightly. “I just hope I get the same warm welcome that you did here in Nysa.”

  She nodded. Despite her fears, it had been a warm welcome.

  But, it was getting colder by the moment.

  ***

  Unmoving, Titus kept his eye to the ceiling as a guard turned a key in the lock on the door to his cell.

  He had known it wasn’t a good plan to come here into the city, but he’d had very little say in the matter. He was a hostage after all. As accommodating as the shifters had been to him, he was still a prisoner of war, a war initiated by his people.

  But, he had grown fond of his travel companions, and began to hold out hope that everything would work out for both of their peoples. He took sinister delight in the images of war that swirled in his head of the shifters destroying Adrian and Avalon Ravener in a hundred gruesome ways to give the Cyman people their freedom.

  “Titus?”

  He turned toward the door and swallowed, all hope disappearing in an instant when the guard entered his cell.

  The only way he could describe the look in the man’s eyes was dead. This was a dead man walking and it terrified him. He had seen the look many times before.

  He bolted up out of his cot.

  The air shimmered and the big guard shifted into Avalon Ravener.

  “Hello, Titus.” The sound of his oppressor’s voice sent his heart racing in his chest and he began to tremble. He instinctively glanced around for a way to escape, but quickly realized there was nowhere to run. There never had been.

  She slithered over to him and put a hand on his face. “Oh, Titus, it is such a shame that you were taken. I really was looking forward to enjoying more time with you.” She reached down between his legs and squeezed, twisting cruelly until he cried out in pain.

  “Please, Mistress,” he grunted.

  She let go and he fell to his knees with his hands pressed to his groin.

  Her lips hovered close to his ear. “You do understand, Titus, that I cannot leave you alive in the hands of the enemy?”

  “Please Mistress, don’t kill me.”

  Her
whisper was callous and cold. “I have no choice.”

  He couldn’t help himself. He began to sob, and she looked down at him in disgust. She abhorred weakness.

  His mind reeled furiously, rummaging for any possible chance at survival. Finally, hating himself, he said, “I could still be of value to you, Mistress. I could get information to you about the Massans’ plans.”

  Avalon grunted. “I already have all of the information I need, Titus. I have been privy to all sorts of interesting intelligence.” The air shimmered again and Avalon shifted smoothly into Rory Greeley.

  Titus gasped in shock. “If you know what they are about, why ‘ave you not killed them?” he asked, tears falling from his eye.

  “Oh, I plan to kill them, lover. Just as soon as I get all four pendants and the map that leads to this ancient power Galen Starr was yammering about.” She waved her hand dismissively in the air between them. “You weren’t around for that little disclosure.”

  He grabbed at Avalon’s hand in Rory’s form. “Please, I don’t want to die! I’ll do anything you ask!”

  For a fleeting moment, Titus thought he saw a shred of decency pass across Avalon’s eyes. She exhaled noisily and moved close to him to cradle his head to her chest. “Oh, Titus.”

  Suddenly, the sound of voices drifted down to them from the top of the stairs.

  “‘Elp!” he screamed, pulling away from Avalon. “Someone ‘elp me!”

  Avalon stood back, shifted into the guard and plunged her sword into his throat just as Beck Atlan slammed the cell door open with a crash, his eyes wild.

  “What is the meaning of this?” he screamed, grabbing Avalon’s shoulders and slamming her up against the stone wall.

  In the guard’s form, she held her hands in the air. “King’s orders.”

  Titus fell over to the floor from his knees.

  Kiernan ran to him and gently lifted his head to her lap. “Airron! Get a healer in here. Quickly!”

  Wheezing forcefully, Titus attempted to speak, but try as he might, he couldn’t get the breath to do so. Avalon had severed his windpipe. He looked up and noticed tears on the Princess’s cheeks.

  For me?

  Her voice grew faint as she urged him to hang on.

  If only he could warn her that she was in danger.

  If only he could ask her to tell his Da that he loved him.

  If only he could tell her how sad he felt that they weren’t going to have the chance to become better friends.

  But, he died in her arms before he could say any of these things.

  Chapter 17

  Betrayals

  The concussion of a loud thunderclap reverberated through the palace walls, but Kiernan barely noticed as she stormed through the corridors with Beck, Rogan and Airron keeping pace beside her.

  “Open the doors!” she barked to the two Scarlet Sabers standing in front of her father’s personal chambers. The guards hesitated, and Kiernan was so angry that she briefly considered mindshifting them out of her way. Fortunately, her father staved off her actions by opening the doors from the inside.

  Bewilderment creased his features. “I thought that was you. What is it, Kiernan?”

  Without a word, she walked past him into the room and waited. As soon as the doors closed behind her friends and father, she whirled on him, tears in her eyes. “How could you?” she demanded. “Galen Starr ordered that he was not to be harmed! He was an innocent and you gave the order for his execution! No, not execution, a heartless murder!”

  “What in the world are you talking about, Kiernan?”

  “You know very well, Father, that I am referring to the Cyman that you were holding prisoner. You gave the order to kill him!”

  “I gave no such order,” he asserted.

  Kiernan faltered at her father’s denial, and gratefully Beck stepped in to seek clarity.

  “Well, he is dead, Your Grace, and the guardsman who committed the act said it was on your orders.”

  The King’s expression turned grim and he stalked to the doors and threw them open. “Ryan! Summon Captains Nash and Franck immediately along with the two guards at the holding cells. Do you know who they are?”

  Ryan nodded. “Vance and Pen—”

  “Get all four up here now!” he bellowed and slammed the doors shut. He turned back to Kiernan. “We will get this straightened out, I promise. I can’t tell you that I’m sorry the Cyman is dead, but the order did not come from me.”

  “But, the guard said—”

  “I did not give the order, Kiernan,” he interrupted, gripping her upper arms. “You have to believe me on this.”

  She took a deep breath to calm her emotions and turned away to stare out at the storm lashing against the windows. Bajan was out there somewhere hunting. Hopefully, he would make fast work of it so he could return safely to her side.

  When she finally felt like she was back in control, she faced her father once again. “Forgive me.”

  He waved her off. “No apology necessary. We will get to the bottom of this.” He motioned with two fingers to a servant lurking at the back of the room, and the girl rushed forward to pour wine.

  Kiernan accepted the proffered glass. “While we wait, Father, I must ask you about the pendant that Galen Starr mentioned.”

  He shook his head and shrugged. “I have never seen such a pendant. If it exists, your mother must have had possession of it. Her jewelry is still locked in her dressing rooms, and you are welcome to go through them.”

  “I will. Thank you. I….Again, I am sorry for accusing you.”

  Her father reached out to stroke the side of her face with a sad smile. “You look so much like her, you know. You have her spirit, too, that’s for bloody sure!” he chortled. “You must know that I would give anything to have our situation changed, Kiernan. Truly, I would.”

  “How so?” she asked, genuinely curious. “What would you wish differently?”

  “For one, I wish more than anything that your mother was still alive and here with us. Every young lady needs a mother to guide her, and the Highworld knows I haven’t made a very good show of it.”

  “Father…”

  “She would be as proud of you as I am,” he said, cupping her cheek in his large palm. Eyes full of regret, he stepped away and turned his back to her. “For another, I wish that you could take your rightful position by my side as Princess of Iserlohn.”

  “I am not sure I understand.”

  He looked back. “You are a shifter, Kiernan. The law calls for your exile.”

  His words cut her to the bone. He still doesn’t want me.

  Rogan set his wine glass down with a splash. “Your Grace, there is no longer any exile. Pyraan does not exist.”

  “Not only is Pyraan gone,” Beck pointed out, “but the men and women who gave their lives in defense of this island. Now, you would exile five shifter survivors? One of whom is your daughter?”

  Her father shifted uncomfortably. “It is inevitable that more shifters will be born each year, and they will need a place to train and be raised away from ordinary people.”

  Hurt turned to fury. “Father, shifters are ordinary people who just happen to have been born with magic. You can’t seriously be considering this!”

  The King threw his wine glass against the fireplace with a roar, the lightning outside of the window briefly illuminating the harsh resolve on his face. “It is the law! What good are laws if the King arbitrarily disregards them for his own personal interests? Besides, the people of Iserlohn will never accept a shifter Princess!”

  At those words, her shoulders slumped. “I ask again, Father. The people or you?”

  His face a blank mask, he said, “You will have all of the provisions and mounts you require for your journey ready by morning. The Iserlohn Army will meet the shifters at the Valley of Flame by Earthshine.”

  Kiernan struggled to keep the pain from her voice. “Fine,” she said softly. “At least all of the years of pret
ense are now at an end. I will not burden you with my presence any longer than necessary. I shall leave in the morning and will not be back.” Despite all effort, she couldn’t stop the single tear that trailed down her cheek. She rubbed it away harshly, annoyed.

  “Kiernan, that’s not…” her father began, but she didn’t give him an opportunity to continue as she brushed past him and slammed the doors on her way out.

  ***

  Beck didn’t immediately follow Kiernan, knowing she needed time to herself. She remained intractable in her belief that magic shifters be accepted for who they were, and it would take time for her to come to terms with the fact that most people, including her own father, did not share her view. He loved that about her. Her unwavering courage to stand and fight against people and causes much larger than she.

  When he eventually did seek her out, he found her in her mother’s dressing rooms on her hands and knees, throwing clothes and boxes all over the floor, two young handmaids hovering anxiously behind her. She looked up at him when he entered, frustration filling her green eyes. “It’s not here! I’ve looked everywhere.”

  Beck knelt beside her. “I asked one of the servants to send for Miss Belle. According to them, she was closest to your mother and may know where the pendant is.”

  Kiernan sagged. “I should have thought of that.” She leaned over to kiss him on the mouth, ignoring the giggles of the handmaids. When she finally pulled back, she glanced over his shoulder. “Lola and Leah, you may leave now.”

  “Yes, Your Grace.” The girls curtsied low to the ground and scampered away, hands covering their grins.

  After they left, Kiernan stood. “Don’t do it.”

  “Do what?” he asked, frowning down at all of the clutter at her feet.

  “Don’t talk about my father or Titus or anything else for that matter. I don’t want to talk and I don’t want to cry anymore.”

  He did as she asked and remained silent.

  Crossing her arms at her chest, she said, “My only concern now is recovering my pendant so we can leave.”

  He nodded and picked up one of the boxes on the floor.

  “My father is a pig-headed, arrogant bastard. Exile? Really?”

  He returned a velvet slipper to its rightful box.

  She started to pace. “Oh, I am Princess of Iserlohn, Father, on that you can be certain!”

  He continued to straighten the room.