"Do they still continue to refuse you entrance?" Deacon questioned Teagan.
"Yes."
One of the Councilmen who stood to the side pounded his fists on the wooden arm of his chair. "What's the point of this talking? Talking won't stop these earthquakes, and we can't take another one like that! Several of our villages are already decimated!"
"You won't need to," Erik spoke up. All eyes turned to us as we walked down the aisle to the large podium.
Lord Greenwood raised himself in his chair and furrowed his brow. "What do you mean?"
"I have just come from the underground and witnessed who carried out these attacks," Erik told them.
"Attacks? Explain yourself," his father demanded.
"The earthquakes were caused by strategically placed boxes of dynamite recently stolen from a shipment," Erik explained. His eyes swept over each of the councilmen. I noticed Deacon paled when Erik's eyes settled on him. "There are two men who sought to create terror for their own ends. We overheard the pair mention that they had only a few boxes left and those were destroyed in this last earthquake."
The room was deathly silent. Everyone looked among each other. I can see suspicion and fear in their eyes.
Lord Greenwood stood to his feet and one of his hands gripped the arm of his chair. "And did you know these two who sought to terrorize us?"
Erik shook his head. "No. We couldn't recognize them."
"And where are they now?"
"Gone. They escaped down a tunnel and ignited the dynamite before we could catch up to them," Erik revealed.
Lord Greenwood pursed his lips and lowered himself back into his chair. "Then the Diggers were correct in suspecting us, and we must make amends."
"Not before we capture these men," Deacon argued. "Who knows whatever other mischief they may concoct. They could reveal our secret to the outside world. I recommend we send out a group of Guards to-"
"I would like to offer my services in finding these men," Erik spoke up.
Deacon turned to him with a frown. "And how would you be useful in this endeavor?"
"You've forgotten that I was the one who discovered them," Erik countered.
"Perhaps that was just luck." Deacon narrowed his eyes and scrutinized Erik. "But how did you manage to get into the underground when our Guards could not?"
"That is my secret, but my offer still stands. I would like to see what I might find, if the counsel will give me its permission," Erik insisted.
"Is anyone else opposed to this idea?" Lord Greenwood asked the men. Several shook their heads or said nothing at all. "And you have our permission to do this, but how are you to proceed? You yourself said you didn't recognize the men."
"No, but I have heard rumors from the other islands that something is amiss and will start my investigation there. I will leave this time tomorrow," Erik told them.
"Very well. Wolf speed to you," Lord Greenwood replied.
Erik turned and led us back through the doors. We walked in silence for a couple of halls until Greg stepped in front of his master.
"If you'll excuse me, my Master, but I will prepare the journey for three people," he offered.
Erik raised and eyebrow. "Three people? Do you intend to come?"
"I may be of some use. In my younger days I lived a few years along the islands I spoke of," he revealed.
Erik smiled and nodded his head. "Then prepare for three people," he agreed.
Greg bowed and hurried off to obey his master's command. I sidled up to Erik and looked into his face. "You really think we're going to find anything out there?" I asked him.
"We found very little at the Old Den. Searching further afield won't harm us," he commented.
I snorted. "It might."
A small smile slipped onto his lips. "Then you will be there to calm me down."
I returned his smile with a grin. "And you will be there to get me into trouble."
Erik leaned down and pecked a teasing kiss on my lips. "I will try my best," he promised.
I rolled my eyes and pushed him away. "Please don't. We may not survive."
I was about to find out how close that survival really was.
MOON CHOSEN #4
CHAPTER 1
"Sophia? Sophia!"
Someone roughly shook my shoulder. I growled and rolled away from them.
"I don't want to go to work. Tell my boss I'm on vacation. . ." I mumbled.
"In werewolf society I am your boss, and I refuse to accept your excuse," the voice replied.
My eyes snapped open. I lay in the large four-poster bed in the drafty room of the Old Den. The fireplace was devoid of its warm, comforting flames and all was quiet. I whipped my head up and found Erik beside the bed. His hands were on the edge of the bed and he leaned over me.
"What's that b.s. about you being my boss?" I questioned him.
"I don't believe you've failed to notice that this werewolf society is very patriarchal," he commented.
I sat up and glared at him. "No, but you'd better not try any of that stuff on me."
He leaned away from the bed and dropped his arms to his sides. His lips pursed and he shook his head. "It can't be avoided. We're going to be traveling through the islands, and many of the inhabitants are very conservative in their definition of gender roles. If you act differently from what they expect they may not speak to us."
I sighed and ran a hand through my messy hair. "You guys really need to learn that this is the twenty-first century."
"We know the year, we just don't care," he countered.
I hopped out of bed and began to dress myself. "Yeah, about that. Are all the islands as backwards as the Old Den or can I hope to get a grande mocha sometime soon?"
He shook his head. "Some are more modern than others, but none reach the level of technology as the outside world."
I paused in my dressing and turned to him with a frown. "So that means a 'no?'"
"Correct."
I shook my head and finished my dressing. "Damn. You guys need to learn how to live."
"We survive. That's enough for us," he replied.
I turned to him and folded my arms across my chest. "Really? Because I remember hearing about some peasants or someone who were a little ticked off about not having enough land."
"We'll validate those rumors along with learning more about Gethin's involvement in the stolen dynamite and the earthquakes," he told me.
I sat back down on the bed and furrowed my brow. "That's a lot of stuff to do in one visit. We sure we can do it?"
"We have to. Now be ready to leave in fifteen minutes," he ordered me.
I gestured to the room around me. "I don't exactly have anything to pack, so why not leave right now?"
He turned away from me and his gaze fell on the door. "We're waiting for Gregory to return."
I wrinkled my nose. "'Return?' Where'd he go?"
Erik shook his head. "I don't know. All he would tell me was that he had few items to retrieve for us and he would return quickly. That was an hour ago."
I snorted. "Are you sure he's the servant and not you?"
"Some days I do wonder," he admitted.
As though on cue there was a soft rap on the door and it opened to reveal Greg. On his back was a large backpack that towered a foot above his head and a foot on either side of him. He came up to us and bowed at the waist. I don't know how he kept from falling over.
"My apologies for taking so long, my Master."
"Did you find what you are looking for?" Erik asked him.
Greg smiled and nodded. "I did, and we are now well prepared for the journey."
I jumped to my feet and moved to stand beside Erik in a show of solidarity. "Come on, 'fess up. What did you get?"
"I wouldn't think about wearing you with such traveling trifles," Greg commented.
"Enough with the pretty talk and more with the showing," I demanded.
"Very well, if you insist." Greg reached into his right pocket
and pulled out some brown-colored beans. "I fetched these from the garden."
I tilted my head to the side and wrinkled my nose. "That's it? That took you an hour to get?"
Greg pocketed them once more and smiled. "The culture on each island is very unique. What is deemed worthless on one isn't necessarily worthless on the other."
"But beans? Are they at least magic beans?" I asked him.
He chuckled and shook his head. "No, just simple brown beans."
"If you're done fetching produce then we should leave," Erik spoke up.
Greg bowed his head. "A good idea, my Master. I am ready whenever you are willing."
Erik moved over to the dresser where I noticed a cloak hung from the wall. The cloak was a light blue that changed color in different lights And around the caller was thick, white string to tie the floppy hood. He pulled the coat off its hook and turned to me.
"Since you insist on wearing those clothes you must at least wear this over them. It will attract less attention," he advised.
He held out the sleeves and I slipped into the cloak was a perfect fit in all the right places. The right sleeve length, the right height, and even a nice, cozy collar. "It's almost like it was made for me," I commented.
"Because it was. I had Gregory sew it over the last few days," Erik admitted.
I blushed. Damn cheeks. I looked at the ground and pulled the collar closer to hide the red. "Thanks. Really."
Erik smiled and bowed his head. "You are my lady, for as long as this arrangement will last. Now we should go." He walked past me and out into the hall.
"Yeah, while it lasts. . ." I murmured. I raised my head and caught Greg staring at me. He had a small, soft smile on his lips. I glared at him. "What?"
He shook his head and stepped aside. "Nothing at all."
"Good, now shoo." I waved my hands at him and herded him out the door. "We've got some trouble to make on other islands."
We rejoined with Erik in the hall and he led us through the maze of halls and down a mess of stairways. In a few minutes we arrived at an interior balcony which hung over a large entrance hall. We stood opposite another balcony, and a sweeping staircase with two wings joined the balconies and joined together at a wide landing. The staircase finished its journey downward at the start of the glistening, tiled marble floor far below us. Marble columns held up the high ceiling and hallways on either side of the bottom floor led to the depths of the Old Den. The front of the hall had a pair of large wooden doors that were twice my height. The walls of the hall were made of polished stone and hung with layers and layers of tapestries.
"Modest, but I like some of the tapestries," I quipped. My voice echoed through the cavernous area and bounced back at me a half dozen times over.
"This is the oldest part of the Old Den," Erik explained to me as he led us down the stairs. "My forefathers thought to impress visitors with their wealth."
"Did the island get a lot of visitors then?" I wondered.
"The place was bustling only a hundred and twenty years ago," Greg spoke up. "The hall would be filled with visitors to see the king and there would be stalls outside to welcome them with handcrafted trinkets and bobbles."
I swept my eyes over the empty hall and passages. "So what happened to make this a ghost den?"
"Over the centuries the islands developed their own cultures and the feeling of commonality disappeared. Now we are less of a pack and more a group of small countries, each vying for a little piece of a dwindling land," Erik explained.
"So how come you just don't find a new witch to make the fog bigger?" I suggested.
By this time we reached the double doors. Erik turned to me and shook his head. "The risk of discovery has been deemed too great."
"By who?" I challenged him.
"By the Council."
I snorted. "Great people to decide that. I've seen calmer chickens."
"They are the elected officials of each island. The people chose them to make their decisions for them," Erik pointed out.
"And what a good lot they chose. . ." Greg muttered.
Erik gave his servant a warning glance. "Whatever our feelings towards them, we have to remember that once we step foot on foreign soil we must follow their customs."
Greg closed his eyes and bowed his head. "Of course, my Master."
Erik placed a hand on the door and gave a push. "Now let us go. Teagan waits for us outside."
I frowned. "Why?"
Erik half turned to me. "Have you forgotten the attempt on your life."
I sheepishly grinned and shrugged. "Maybe?"
"Teagan will personally lead us to the docks, and from there we will go to the other islands," Erik explained.
CHAPTER 2
The heavy door swung open under his great strength and revealed to us a whole new world, but it wasn't one I wanted to take a magic carpet ride through. Two dozen wide marble steps led down to bare brown earth that was an ancient road. On either side of the road was dead brush and trees. Their bare, black branches brushed against the rough stone blocks that made up the front of the Old Den. The trees were spaced evenly apart and created a lane of depression. The plateau of death was a half mile wide, and at either end was a steep drop to another steppe, of which I could only see the tops of the tall trees. Stone staircases led down to the lower levels. The road had a gentle slope that led down several miles to a small harbor in the distance. There were a half dozen long docks, but only two boats docked at it.
The feeling overall was one of decaying grandness. The road was twenty yards wide and must have held grand processions. The dead trees were tall and at one time well-pruned, and I noticed pits at the bottom that showed they once bore fruit. The bushes were in front of the trees and lined the road. Some of them still showed some evidence of their berry-producing past.
"Is this place dying?" I whispered. The solemnity of the area didn't allow any louder a voice than that.
"Yes. The dirt's nutrients rapidly depleted a hundred years ago," Erik told me.
"Ever hear of fertilizer?"
He led us down the steps and onto the dusty road. "All of them were tried, but none worked."
Teagan stood twenty yards down the road. His cloak was pulled back to reveal a long sword and an ancient revolver. In any other hands I would've thought such an old weapon useless, but I suspected that in Teagan's possession it was more dangerous than a machine gun.
I chanced a look back and my mouth dropped open. This side of the Old Den was built like a medieval castle. The rough blocks rose a hundred feet into the air and stopped at the top where I glimpsed battlements. On either side of the entrance and fifty feet of the road were rounded towers that jutted out from the stone walls. The walls above the wide stairs were punctuated only by tall, narrow windows with arched tops. The windows were adorned with broken stained glass.
I stopped and pointed at the glass. "Who are they?"
Erik didn't stop, but instead made his way to Teagan. "Past kings, but we should hurry. The boat's waiting for us."
I couldn't help but linger on that empty road before that large edifice of fallen pride. I don't know why, but it tugged at my heart to see such a once-grand place become a depressing mockery of its former self. Those broken stain-glass portraits stared down at me as though pleading for something to be done before they completely perished.
A heavy hand fell on my shoulder, and I started and spun around. I found myself staring into Greg's long face, and I could see a reflection of my sadness in his eyes.
His voice was quiet, but among that dead I heard it perfectly. "They call to you, don't they?" he asked me.
"'They?'" I repeated.
He nodded at the windows. "The kings."
I followed his gaze and shuddered. "How can they? They're just glass-" I paused and turned to Greg. "Right?"
Greg cast his eyes on the many faces above us. "The Master used to hear them, too, when he was young, but he stopped listening when his father caught him out
here and beat him."
I frowned. "Why couldn't he be out here?"
"Lord Greenwood warned of loose stones, but perhaps he heard their voices, too," Greg mused.
I blinked at the old servant. "What voices?"
He nodded at the broken glass above us. "The wind plays some strange tricks with those broken panels. Sometimes it's almost like you can hear them calling to you."
I felt the color drain from my face. "They. . .they aren't alive, are they?" I asked him.
"What's the matter?" Erik called from a dozen yards down the path from where he stood with Teagan.
"Nothing, Master," Greg replied. He took my arm and led me away from the wall and those peering eyes. "We should obey the Master," he told me.
"But are they?" I persisted.
Greg smiled. "What do you think?"
I leaned back and frowned. "I think you're nuts."
He chuckled and bowed his head. "Thank you for the compliment."
By this time we reached Teagan and Erik. Erik looked between us and the towering walls behind us. "Don't dawdle again. Only one of the assassins died in the cavern," he reminded me.
"Yes, Mother," I teased. I glanced past Erik at the road. The way stretched out before us and there were miles between the docks and us. My feet ached just looking at it. "Got any horses around here?" I asked him.
"No, and the way isn't too far," Erik replied.
I snorted. "Speak for yourself. . ." I muttered.
Erik ignored me and turned to Teagan. "Take the rear and I will take the lead."
Teagan bowed and stepped in back of Greg and me. Erik marched us down the long, winding, descending road.
I glanced back to Teagan. "Where's Lillian?"
"Safe," he assured me. "She sends her regards, and pleads for you to be careful."
I grinned and gave him a salute. "Will do. That is, if I don't get killed."
"Then that would certainly be breaking your word," he pointed out.
I shrugged. "There's just no stopping some assassination attempts."
"If there are any more attempts than Gethin will reveal his sphere of influence," Erik spoke up.
"That'll be very comforting for my dead body," I quipped.
"They will only be attempts," he promised.
I leaned to the side to look past him to the road. "Like there'll be only a few short miles to the dock?" I teased.
"They would be shorter if we sprinted, Master," Greg spoke up.
"Can she sprint so soon?" Teagan wondered.