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

“Well?”

  He couldn’t help but laugh.

  “What is so funny?” she demanded, hands on hip.

  He stood and gestured her closer with outstretched arms. “Whatever happens, Kiernan, all that matters is that we’ll be together. Even if they exile us in the Sandori Sands, I’ll be happy as long as I have you.”

  She walked into his embrace and reached up to lace her fingers behind his head. “I knew I fell in love with you for a reason. You always know just what to say.”

  “Will you love me forever?” he teased.

  “And, then some.”

  The door to the outer sitting room opened. “Kiernan?”

  “In here, Miss Belle,” Kiernan responded, pulling away from him.

  Her former caretaker appeared, filling up most of the doorway with her large frame. Her eyes went wide. “Whatever are you doing, girl?”

  Beck noticed Kiernan’s face flush before she realized that Miss Belle was talking about the disaster she had made of the dressing room. “I’m looking for a piece of jewelry, Miss Belle, a silver pendant. My mother must have had it, but I can’t find it anywhere.”

  Miss Belle visibly blanched. “Are you talking about that two-eyed pendant?”

  Kiernan ran to her. “Yes! That must be it. You have it?”

  “I have it, and I will gladly give it to you. It makes my skin crawl, it does. The eyes blink!” She shuddered. “Your mother asked me to give it to you on your eighteenth name day, and I was planning to have a messenger deliver it to Pyraan.”

  Beck looked at Kiernan, smiling. “What did I tell you? You will learn one of these days that I am very rarely wrong.”

  Kiernan punched his arm. “Where is it?” she asked Miss Belle.

  “I will have it brought to your room. Now, make off so I can clean up your mess.” Shuffling into the room, the woman boldly looked Beck up and down.

  “Miss Belle!” Kiernan admonished.

  “What? I’ve never met an earthshifter before. And, a very handsome one at that.”

  Beck laughed.

  The outer door opened again and hurried footsteps approached. “Princess!” It was Lola, the young handmaid. “Come quickly. I have been ordered to escort you to Mage Starr’s rooms straight away.”

  Kiernan grabbed Beck’s hand. “This can’t be good.”

  Chapter 18

  Deathbed Confessions

  Rogan and Airron were already present in the Mage’s sitting room along with Bajan, who Kiernan was relieved to see was safely back from his hunt. Captains Nash and Franck were there as well, huddled around a table covered with maps and conversing softly. Both knelt with left fist to the floor when she entered.

  The King’s back was to the door as he poured himself a glass of wine. He did not turn around.

  A soldier, presumably one of the guards from the holding cells when Titus was murdered, stood before someone lying on a sofa and covered with a blanket.

  Kiernan gasped quietly when the guard turned to kneel to her and revealed Galen Starr. The vitality and health of just hours ago had vanished, leaving a face gaunt and ancient and that appeared to be…sliding off of his skull. Dear Highworld, what happened to him?

  “Please rise,” she told the three men.

  “Come closer, Princess,” croaked the Mage. “Guardsman Vance was just describing the events surrounding the death of the young Cyman. I must warn you, it is very disturbing.” He waved his hand weakly toward the guard, prompting him to continue his story.

  The uneasy guard stood and cleared his throat. “After it was discovered that the King had not ordered the interrogation or execution of the Cyman prisoner, we went looking for Guardsman Penske to get answers. We searched for hours until a servant ran screaming from one of the wine cellars.” The guardsman gulped audibly. “We found Penske there in a corner of the cellar. He…I am not quite sure how to put it. His body was emaciated as if all of the air and fluids had been sucked out of his body.”

  Airron grunted in disbelief. “He was bodyshifted?”

  Kiernan refused to believe it. Shifting a human form was unconditionally forbidden in Pyraan and its practice rejected outright by any moral and reasoned human being. It was just not done. Not ever.

  The Mage nodded. “Yes. I viewed the body myself and can confirm it to be so.”

  The two captains drew closer to the conversation and were now listening intently. Bajan rubbed protectively against Kiernan.

  Beck shook his head. “But, Mage, Airron is the only bodyshifter left in Massa, and I can assure you he did not kill this guard.”

  Airron looked sick.

  Galen again waved a weak hand. “I do not think Airron was responsible, Beck, but what of the other shifter with you?”

  “Rory?” Kiernan questioned. “No, he’s a harmless fireshifter with not much magic to command. It couldn’t be him.”

  “When was the last time you saw him?” asked the Mage.

  “Not since dinner.”

  Without warning, the Mage began to hack and wheeze violently into a handkerchief in his hand. The fit went on for several uncomfortable seconds. Just as Kiernan started forward to try to help, the coughing subsided and Galen straightened himself on the sofa, breathing heavily.

  “It…it appears that we have a rogue bodyshifter here in the castle who has managed to kill two people,” Galen managed to get out.

  Comprehension flooded through Kiernan. “Wait. Are you suggesting that it could be a shifter who never went to Pyraan?”

  “It is possible,” rasped the Mage.

  Her father spoke up for the first time. “You may go now Vance.”

  The guardsman immediately bowed and headed for the door, looking relieved to be away from the focus of attention.

  The King asked Colbie Nash to acquaint the shifters with the Massan maps on the table. The captain nodded and motioned them over. “How familiar are any of you with the geography of Massa?”

  “Quite a bit from our studies at the academy,” Rogan replied.

  Colbie gave Kiernan a warm smile. “I understand that you’ve all decided to travel to the other lands first before going to Callyn-Rhe?”

  “Yes,” Kiernan confirmed.

  He pointed a finger down at the table and drew their gazes to a point on the map south of Nysa. “Tomorrow at dawn, you will travel by horse to Iserport. Midway is the small town of Janis where you can get off the road to spend the night at an inn and get a decent meal. Once in Iserport, you will take the ferry to Deeport and travel the Koda River to Kondor to meet with King Rik and the Dwarves. You will be provided with traveling papers to verify your purpose.” He pointed back to the map. “After delivering your message to the Dwarves, head northeast to Sarphia and King Jerund. According to Mage Starr, your pendants will lead you to Callyn-Rhe from there.”

  “Easy enough,” said Airron.

  “No, Airron, it will not be easy,” Galen whispered. “Come closer. There are several things I need to caution you about.” When they gathered around him once again, the Mage said, “First, your presence will not be welcome as you journey across the island. The people of Massa are very leery of shifters and even other races for that matter. Free travel between lands is very infrequent, so there is no telling how they may react. You must do whatever you have to do to protect yourselves and your mission.”

  The shifters nodded.

  “Second, even with the map, Callyn-Rhe will be difficult to reach. That you all survived the destruction of Pyraan is the only miracle we can count on in the days ahead. Your ingenuity and strength are what will enable you to prevail.”

  He paused to catch his breath. Kiernan thought he was going to launch into another choking fit, but a servant rushed over to give him water and he gulped it greedily. “Third, there is quite a bit of prophecy written about this time, but one concerns me more than the others and specifically relates to the quest for Callyn-Rhe.” Galen glanced surreptitiously at the King. “It reveals the fate of the seekers of the p
ower.”

  “Go on,” pressed Beck.

  “The foretelling claims that during the journey one will be betrayed, one will be lost, one will be gravely injured and one…will die.”

  The room went completely silent.

  Her father recovered first, stalking over to Galen, eyes blazing. “If you were not already dying, Starr, I would kill you myself!” With that, he stormed from the room.

  “I truly am sorry,” the Mage said, looking even more fragile after the King’s avowal. He looked at each of them with watery eyes. “I did not think it was wise to hide the truth from you. Do you still accept this undertaking? Even after hearing those prophetic words?”

  Kiernan felt like her knees were about to buckle, but she resisted the urge to reach out and cling to Beck. It was unthinkable to imagine a life without one of her friends in it. Without Beck in it. It could even be her life that was to be forfeit. Even so, she didn’t have to consult with the others when she said, “As you know, Mage, we have no choice. Your blood oath demands that we continue if there is any hope to save the people of this island.”

  Galen nodded as though expecting those very words. “If you will all excuse me, I would like a few words alone with young Beck.”

  ***

  As everyone began to file out of the room, Rogan stepped over to the sofa. “Pardon, Mage, for the interruption, but I was wondering what you can tell me of my parents.”

  Galen coughed. “I wish I could give you what you seek, fireshifter, but the truth is I never knew them.”

  Beck patted Rogan lightly on the back and watched the dejected Dwarf nod his thanks to Galen and walk out.

  “Why did you just lie to him?” Beck asked when the door closed behind his friend. Ever since Beck had known him, Rogan had been desperate to find out the truth about his family. And, just as long, Beck had always secretly worried that the truth would never live up to the fantasies Rogan had conjured over the years.

  Animation crept into the newly wrinkled face. “Very perceptive, I am impressed.”

  “Can you answer the question?” Beck persisted, knowing through pure instinct that the Mage was holding information back.

  Galen shrugged his thin shoulders. “He already knows the truth. The loss of his parents was a very traumatic event for him, so he has blocked it out of his mind. He will remember when he is ready.”

  Galen began to wheeze, and Beck knelt beside the sofa. “Can I get you more water?”

  “No, I am fine.” With trembling hands, he reached under the blanket and produced a book that he held out to Beck.

  “What is this?”

  “A very valuable item. It is called the Protetor and it protects within its bindings the only written record of Mage teachings. It is bespelled and only you can read its contents. Anyone else who opens the book will see only blank pages. Guard it well, Beck, it is a powerful magical tool and one that is essential to your quest. The Protetor contains every spell, charm, incantation, and curse known to me. It is all yours. The people of Massa need the wisdom of a Mage to guide them.”

  Beck hesitated, knowing that it wasn’t just the book itself that he was being coerced into accepting. It was the string attached—that Beck use the knowledge contained within to become a Mage. He shuddered at the thought.

  Feeling like he had no other choice, he took the book from the pale outstretched fingers and examined the exterior. It was small, black and non-descript, with no writing on the front or spine. He looked at the Mage in confusion. “Why me?”

  Beck noticed a glint flare in Galen’s eyes. “Because you are my great, great…” The Mage paused. “Too many greats to list…grandson.”

  For some reason, Beck didn’t question the legitimacy of Galen’s revelation. “On my mother’s side or my father’s side?”

  “Mother. You are both direct descendants of the Starr lineage.”

  Beck thought back to the discussion he had with his mother before Ravener’s destruction of Pyraan. Whatever her reasons for not telling him then of his ancestry, Beck did not hold it against her. She did what she did out of love for him and nothing else. “Is that why I have been named Savitar? Because I am your descendent?”

  “Yes. Just like Kiernan, you are pureblood.”

  “What of the others?”

  Galen’s voice grew softer. “All of the new Savitars are descendants of the original Savitars. The power of the blood oath runs deeper in you four than in any other shifter. Your strength comes from your patrician blood. Kiernan is a descendant of Garret Kenley. Rogan from Regan Rojin, and Airron from his mother’s side through Arias Sarphia. Garret, Regan and Arias were at my side in the defeat of Adrian Ravener. Sadly, they did not survive the encounter. Our progeny will have the unfortunate honor to rid this land of him once again.”

  Beck twirled the small book in his hand, contemplating all that he had heard. “I can’t take this, Mage.”

  “You must, Beck! You must also promise that you will carry the Protetor with you until this is over.” A long-fingered hand reached out to grab him with surprising strength. “Promise me!”

  “But, I will never be a Mage. I am a shifter. It’s who I am.”

  “Learn from my mistakes, Beck!” implored the dying man. “Take the knowledge from this book and start over. Create a world where magic is to be used for good again. A world where shifters can come out of hiding!”

  “I…I don’t know if I’m strong enough,” he admitted.

  “You must be,” he said once again, and Beck had to lean in close to hear his next words. “You are the only one who is.”

  The Mage produced one last weak cough and then his head slumped to the side. After six hundred years of walking the earth, Galen Starr was dead.

  A pitiful roar rose up from outside of Galen’s rooms. Beck scrambled to his feet and ran out into the corridor, shoving the Protetor into his pocket as he went. Looking around wildly, he saw Kiernan kneeling on the floor with her arms around Bajan’s neck. The Draca was lying still, a line of blood trailing from his nose and staining his beautiful white coat.

  ***

  The Cyman Army was just bedding down for the evening when Lucin heard a deafening scream from Adrian Ravener’s tent. He rushed in and found the Mage lying on the floor with a manic smile on his face and blood trickling from his nose.

  “It is done, Lucin. The portals are now open.”

  Chapter 19

  Captured Innocence

  The laughter of the two young Elves as they frolicked through the woods was so pure and ethereal it defied description. The delicate lilt of their voices evoked sensations of sheer ecstasy.

  Anyone listening to them would have known that they were of the Elven race. Anyone watching them would have known that they were in love.

  The male affectionately grabbed for the girl, but she gracefully leapt out of his reach, her feet barely touching the ground as she flitted through the Du’Che Forest.

  Several young deer ran alongside, keeping pace with the Elves, and rabbits and other small animals darted in and out of the brush, hopping beside them in delight. Not to be forsaken, bluebirds sang out and swooped down through the tree branches, joining in the merriment.

  Face flushed with enjoyment, the girl stopped and whistled. She held a thin hand out high and one of the birds alighted on her finger. She spoke softly to it, a mischievous glint sparkling in her violet eyes. The bird rose in the air and dove at the head of the Elven boy. His laughter rang out as he ducked and took off running, this time the girl in pursuit of him.

  Suddenly, the boy froze in place, his hand held up in caution. He made a quick hand signal to the girl so she would understand not to talk. The two melted into the forest background as silently as a breeze drifting through the trees. The boy stopped and pointed through a gap in the woods, and the female’s eyes widened in shock. The space beyond the trees undulated strangely as though underwater. And, in that wavering landscape was a large hole that gave the impression that a circular ren
t had been torn into the fabric of the world, revealing a new universe beyond.

  Despite a warning hiss from her companion, the girl moved closer and reached out to touch the rippling backdrop. Her hand recoiled. It pulses with evil! she signed to him and motioned him forward. Together, they peeked through the hole and received their first glimpse of the Cyman Army passing through the Sandori Sands in northern Haventhal.

  Who are they?

  A better question is what are they? he replied, fingers moving fast.

  She nodded and shuddered. Look at their single eye! They look like ogres. They are traveling beyond our sight, but how?

  Magic.

  Do you think they mean us harm? she asked innocently.

  I know they do. Let us go and tell our fathers. They will know what to do.

  The youngsters turned to flee and two huge hands reached out of the trees and grabbed each Elf by the upper arm. The female let out a scream, and the tall, monstrous soldier who held her hit her across the mouth to silence her. “Quiet!”

  The boy struggled against his captor with murder in his translucent eyes. Quickly realizing it was futile, he stilled and signed to his companion. Do as they say, and let them think we are submissive. We will find a way to get free. They are big and clumsy.

  But, how did we not hear their approach, Falcon?

  I told you, magic.

  “Arlan. I think they’re talking to each other with their ‘ands,” said one of the soldiers.

  “‘Come on, let’s tie ‘em up.”

  “Wait!” shouted the girl as she wrestled her arm away.

  I love you, Falcon, she signed quickly.

  And, I you, Siole.

  After the exchange, the soldiers made short work of binding their slight wrists.

  “Look at their ears and silver ‘air, Cyrus. They must be the Elves that Lucin was telling us about.”

  Cyrus stared at them intently. “What should we do?”

  Arlan shrugged his shoulders. “We can’t let ‘em go. Lucin said that ‘e wanted to avoid conflict with the Elves until the timing was right, but these two will go back and tell others.”

  Cyrus shook his head. “You know what will ‘appen if we bring ‘em to the Mage.”

  It wasn’t a question.

  Arlan sighed. “We ‘ave no choice. When it comes to our purpose ‘ere, it is Cymans first and Massans dead last.”

  Cyrus nodded and dragged the young female Elf through the breach in the shield and into the sand toward the army.