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

  A cough at his tent door stopped him.

  “What is it, Captain?” Adrian asked impatiently without removing his gaze from the girl.

  Lucin ducked to enter the tent, helmet in hand. “Everything is ready for tonight.”

  Adrian nodded. “Any word from my sister?”

  “Not yet, but we do ‘ave sentries posted. You will be sent word immediately if she arrives.”

  “Food supplies?”

  “Meager.”

  “Deserters?”

  “Very few. The Cyman soldiers ‘ave been bred for this day.”

  “Thank you, Captain,” he said and gestured to the door. “You are dismissed. I will be along shortly.”

  Lucin glanced at the Elven girl in the corner, and Adrian could see the sympathy in his eye. It infuriated him. He just didn’t understand this emotion that he had long considered a weakness in the Cymans. “Get out, you idiot!”

  Lucin’s eye turned cold as he bowed and exited the tent.

  The little Elf laughed and it sounded like the tinkle of a bell. “Even your own people do not like you.”

  “Fortunately, it is not a prerequisite of the job.”

  “Where is Falcon?”

  Adrian shrugged. “He is fine. As long as you do what you are told, you will both be freed unharmed.”

  “What else would you have of me, sir? You have already robbed me of my body and my dignity. What else would you have?”

  Her words angered him. This little slip of a girl belittled him when no one in his entire life had ever dared speak to him in such a manner. Struggling to keep his feelings in check, he smiled at her. “I would like your participation in a special ceremony to be held at midnight. You will be there as a representative of the Elven race, and after this ritual you and your companion may go back to your homes.”

  Her slanted purple eyes stared at him with suspicion. “What kind of ritual?”

  He waved his hand in dismissal. “A simple ceremony that requires the presence of an emissary. That is all.”

  Her eyes flickered with hope. “Can I see Falcon first?”

  “Soon.” He leered at her hungrily, and it excited him when she began to tremble. He bared his teeth in a wicked half-smile. “Let us begin with the first part of the rite which involves partaking in the pleasures of the flesh.”

  The young girl’s eyes deadened in grim hopelessness as she slid down and spread open her shaking knees. Tears dripped from her eyes as he approached, tugging at the lace of his trousers.

  ***

  Lucin prowled through the Cyman camp, barking and growling at anyone who tried to speak to him. All of the arrangements had been made according to the instructions of the Mage and within the hour, Ravener would engage in his despicable dark arts. For what purpose, Lucin could not even guess.

  Sickened, he stalked away from the army and its raucous noise and foul smells and disappeared over a towering dune. Once out of sight, he ran, pumping his arms and legs until his muscles protested in pain. He ran until he could continue no further and collapsed into the white sand. Even in the moonlight, the Sandori Sands glistened in blinding splendor, the landscape ever changing into exotic shapes as the dunes crested, caved, and swirled in the strong westerly winds. Hearty scrub grasses and plants dotted the terrain, but mostly it was a sea of glorious white as far as the eye could see.

  Soon, he promised himself. Soon, this whole campaign will be over and I’ll be back with Maree, Miah and Titus. He worried so for his son, his fervent hope that the Massans wouldn’t harm an innocent boy.

  Innocent? Who am I kidding? The Cymans were as complicit as Adrian Ravener in this whole sordid affair! Did the shifters they encountered in the north think the Cymans were innocent when they swarmed their shores with murderous intent? Did the young male Elf named Falcon think so when he took his last torturous breath crying out for his love? What about the Elven girl? Given the chance, she’d thrust a knife in Lucin’s heart without batting an eye and been justified in doing so.

  He shook the disturbing thoughts away. They were halfway through the Sands now, and he just had to see as many of his people as possible safely through to Earthshine. That was all he could do.

  Pushing to his feet, he returned to camp and once again strode through the army without stopping. He slipped into the forest beyond and made his way toward the ritual location.

  Earlier that evening, Lucin selected the requisite number of soldiers to participate in what Ravener called his war ritual. He had ordered Lucin to send the twelve Cymans to a clearing a full league south into the Du’Che Forest. Whatever Ravener has in mind, he does not want to be overheard.

  Lucin had been strictly forbidden from attending the ceremony, but he wanted to see for himself what the Mage planned. If his men were to be a part of these war rituals, Lucin wanted to see that they were safe.

  When he finally arrived at the clearing, he noticed the soldiers already present and standing within a circle of stones. Ravener had instructed that torches be staked into the ground outside of the ring, and they flickered eerily over the twelve anxious faces.

  Lucin chose an enormous old oak and hauled himself onto a sizeable limb that looked like it would provide a good view of the clearing. But, he felt foolish. Here I am, the captain of the Cyman Army, dripping in sweat and lying across a tree branch twenty feet off the ground to spy on my master.

  A miserable hour later, his head twitched up at the sound of movement coming from the far side of the clearing. Ravener strode out of the darkened forest gripping the upper arm of the Elven girl, Siole. Her eyes were frightened and wild as she looked around at the soldiers.

  “Where is he?” he heard her question the Mage suspiciously. “You said Falcon would be here.”

  Ravener ignored her and proceeded to the center of the circle of soldiers where he forced the girl to her knees. He looked around at the men. “There will be no speaking during this ceremony. You must thank Captain Lucin for your presence here this evening as it is he who has honored you for this service. Let us begin.”

  Ravener reached down to lift the Elf to her feet, and Lucin could see the small body shuddering uncontrollably in fear. The sleeves of the Mage’s cloak fell to his elbows as he began to weave his arms in the air in front of the girl, his lips moving in a silent chant.

  The words were indecipherable from Lucin’s position, but he could see the impact they were having on Siole. Her body stopped shaking, and she snapped rigidly upright before Ravener. Her eyes spun in her head, but she seemed unable to move any other part of her body. Horrible moans issued from her mouth, sending the hair on the back of Lucin’s neck standing straight up. The soldiers shuffled their feet in agitation at sight of the girl’s obvious torment. White froth began to bubble at her lips.

  Suddenly, Ravener let out a primal scream and fell to his knees in front of Siole. As the Mage knelt with his head down, Siole’s mouth opened wide—wider than was humanly possible. Lucin put his hand to his own gaping mouth to cover his horrified gasp.

  The oral cavity continued to elongate and Lucin heard the cracking of her jaw. Shadowed fingers appeared at the maw opening and widened the mouth further. Impossibly, the silhouette of a head poked through and a ghostly apparition started to crawl out of Siole.

  Dear Highworld, what am I witnessing?

  When the specter finally slithered free, it shot into the air and the little Elf crumbled to the ground, an empty husk devoid of life.

  The creature alighted to the ground and solidified into a flesh and blood demon. It was definitely female with naked breasts exposed around a tight fitting black outfit and billowing cape tied at the neck. Horns protruded from both sides of her temples and pointed upward in sharp lethal tips. Her smile revealed two rows of tiny serrated teeth.

  “Niema,” the Mage breathed reverently.

  The evil that emanated from the dead sorceress brought all of the soldiers falling to their knees and covering their heads in soft groans. Lucin almost tu
mbled to the ground as his body shook in an uncontrollable desire to flee from the abomination in his presence.

  “It has been a very long time,” rasped out the demon, her voice chafing away at Lucin’s sanity. “I must thank you for the delicacy. That is the first time I have tasted a fledgling Elven soul.” The demon slid her long forked tongue out to lick at her lips. “Delicious.”

  “Niema, I am honored that it is you who has answered my call.”

  The creature barked out a brittle laugh as she hovered over the kneeling Mage. “I have accepted your offering. What is it you wish, spiritshifter, for I see you have earned this title.”

  “I am in need of your assistance to secure my position as ruler of this island. The sniveling leaders here want nothing more than to abolish all magic.” He looked up expectantly. “You wouldn’t want that, would you, Niema?”

  Her red glowing eyes narrowed at Ravener. “Galen Starr is dead at last?”

  “Yes.”

  The demon flipped into the air backwards in satisfaction and swooped down to within inches of Ravener’s face. “Magic is needed in all of our worlds, spiritshifter. I will help you.”

  “I am in your debt, Niema.”

  She ran a clawed fingernail under his chin. “Yes, you are. And, just as I, spiritshifter, each demon you call forth will demand a living portal through which to emerge here into this mortal world.”

  He nodded. “Since I haven’t yet built up the power necessary to summon the number of demons I need, I ask for your help.”

  Niema smiled sinisterly and licked her lips again in anticipation. “Shall I start with these twelve?” she asked, sweeping her arm around the circle.

  Horrified screams escaped from the men and one collapsed to the ground.

  Ravener raised an eyebrow. “But, of course. That’s why they are here. You may begin.”

  Niema cackled and began weaving the air, bidding the demons of the Netherworld to her side.

  Lucin’s fingers dug into the bark of the branch beneath him as the men on their knees were jerked to their feet by sorcerous strings, even the man who had fainted. Tears streamed from his eye as he watched the mutilation of his men and the horrors that crawled from their outstretched jaws.

  Ravener looked on in delight as twelve male demon spirits soon swirled in the air around him. They were caped and horned like Niema, but taller and more muscular.

  Beckoning them close, the Mage gave them their instructions. Four demons each were to go to the leading cities in Iserlohn, Deepstone and Haventhal in search of the Savitars in the unlikely event they were still alive and to terrorize the citizens of the land along the way. “Frightened people have a way of convincing their Kings to surrender,” cooed Ravener to Niema.

  The twelve horned shadows howled and streaked away into the night.

  Lucin watched them go and then glanced back at the clearing and the thirteen bodies that lay on the ground. Only a coward would watch the events of this night perched in a tree and do nothing! Lucin berated himself. But, what could I have done? If he had tried to intervene, he would have been killed. That much he knew.

  But, he did vow then and there to destroy Adrian Ravener. It didn’t matter when or how, only that he be the one to do it.

  Without warning, the female demon snapped her glowing red gaze his way. The temperature around him dropped and his breath clouded in front of his face. She hissed as she crouched, forked tongue darting in and out.

  Adrian held up his hand. “Do not worry, Niema, there is no threat out there. It’s just the captain of my Cyman Army. Although he apparently finds it hard to follow orders, he is harmless.”

  Chapter 26

  Precious Trouble

  Every muscle tensed as Kiernan waited behind the door of her white room with her dagger clenched tightly in one hand.

  Soon, one of the women would be back, and she would be waiting.

  It remained a mystery to her why she was being held captive. If these women were of benevolent intent, why was her door locked? From the outside? Why did they keep spelling her into unconsciousness?

  Gemini said that she knew Kiernan’s mother, so at some point the Queen must have brought her here. But why? What was Gemini referring to when she said that Kiernan would be trained? It was all very intriguing, but she simply didn’t have time for games and innuendo. Beck and the others must be worried sick by now.

  As soon as she thought of Beck, her heart sank and she looked up toward the ceiling to blink back the tears that threatened to fall. No, most likely not worried at all and still wrapped up in the arms of another woman. How could his feelings for me change so abruptly? His betrayal made no sense to her, and all attempts to accept that he just didn’t feel the same way about her as she did him caused unbridled pain to stab through her.

  Footsteps sounded outside in the corridor, wrenching her back to reality. She readied herself for a fight. I don’t want to harm anyone. I just need to scare them into letting me go.

  There was a knock.

  When she didn’t respond, a key was inserted into the lock and the door opened. Kiernan held her breath as a dark-haired woman dressed in a blue velvet dress entered her room.

  Kiernan sprang forward, grabbed the woman around the neck, and held the dagger less than an inch from her throat. “Looks like we’ll have to do this the hard way,” she snarled into the woman’s ear. “I’m getting out of here and you are going to show me the way.”

  “Princess, you don’t want to do this,” the woman said calmly.

  Too calmly?

  “Yes, obviously I do.” She nudged the woman’s back roughly toward the door. “Now go. If you make any move—”

  “Bindeno!”

  Kiernan’s dagger dropped from nerveless fingers and she fell back onto the floor, stiff as a board and unable to move no matter how hard she tried. She couldn’t even move her lips to scream.

  The dark-haired beauty stared down at her. “Do not let our looks fool you, Princess. We’re not weak and delicate. We can be ruthless if we have to be. After all, they don’t call us witches without good reason.”

  If Kiernan’s rage could have broken the spell over her inert body, it would have exploded into a million fragments. She had never felt so helpless in her life, her fate so completely in another’s hands.

  The woman’s gorgeous blue eyes were confidently smug. She appeared to be around Kiernan’s age, although it was hard to tell with these women.

  “My name is Sapphire,” Kiernan’s tormenter announced and then stepped one leg over Kiernan to straddle her in a very humiliating fashion. “If you continue to push, Princess, you will be pushed back. Hard.”

  If Sapphire expected Kiernan to nod, it was a cruel joke.

  The woman tossed her black braid over her shoulder and squatted. “I should probably leave you on the floor all night to teach you a lesson, but I won’t. Gemini is waiting. Try it again, though, and you will be very, very sorry.”

  Sapphire mumbled a counter to her spell, and as soon as it lifted, Kiernan let out a frustrated scream and jumped to her feet.

  “What in the hell was that?” she shouted. “How do you know magic? What are you?”

  Sapphire held her head high. “I told you. I am a witch, or a sorceress if you like that name better.”

  “So, you’re telling me that this is some kind of witches’ coven?”

  “Exactly what I am telling you.”

  “Really? And, how does Gemini know my mother?”

  Sapphire grabbed Kiernan by the upper arm in a vise-like grip. “Come. I’ll take you to Gemini and, Highworld bless her, she can answer all of your irritating questions herself.”

  “Fine,” Kiernan said, and gave the sorceress a sickly sweet smile as she jerked her arm free.

  The sorceress raised her eyebrows, but said nothing.

  Kiernan found herself escorted down the same corridor and into the foyer with the fountain, but instead of going to the hall across the white marble floor,
Sapphire led her up the wide staircase to the first level of balconies.

  They passed several women, all in formal attire, who nodded politely to them. At the top of the stairs, Sapphire continued along the hallway until she came to a simple wooden door with no sign or decoration.

  At her knock, she was granted admittance from a voice on the other side of the door.

  The petite Gemini came from around her desk as soon as Sapphire and Kiernan entered.

  “You may go now, Sapphire. Thank you.”

  Sapphire curtsied deeply to Gemini and left.

  A provocative scent permeated the room. Kiernan’s mood changed in an instant, and she felt herself growing tranquil and relaxed.

  Gazing around, she decided the best way to describe the décor was a blend of disordered comfort. A beautifully carved, but cluttered, writing desk sat directly across from the door. Off to the side was a wooden sofa upholstered in blue cut velvet brocade and strewn with plump colorful pillows. A bookshelf in the corner contained a sizeable library of well-used tomes, and Kiernan walked toward it unsteadily to scan the titles on the spines. Among the collection, she found Manipulation of Magikal Herbs, Dream Acumen and The Prophetic Age. Scattered between the books was a variety of ritualistic items including mortar and pestle, crystals, pentacles, pewter chalice and even a cauldron.

  A true witch’s lair, she thought in amusement.

  Turning back, she spied a three-legged ornate censer vibrating softly on the corner of Gemini’s desk and emitting a sweet smelling vapor into the air. The source of her artificial serenity, no doubt.

  Gemini spoke, interrupting her perusal. “My apologies, Kiernan, for the last time we met. But, using your own words, you left me no other choice.”

  Kiernan pointed to the censer. “Turn this off. I like to have my wits about me when I face my enemies.”