“That’s right,” said her father, “The breeders didn’t work, but your brother has the gift now, even though he didn’t get it from me.”
“Mother?” exclaimed Moira, referring to Penny now. “Wait, does that mean you’re cousins?”
He nodded, “It’s been two thousand years, but yes, we have to be, although we’re dozens if not hundreds of times removed.”
“So her gift, prophecy, it comes from the Illeniel Grove?”
“I can’t prove it. I don’t know her family history, but it’s the only reasonable assumption. I do know that there has never been a human wizard with her gift—until now, at precisely the same time that the great enemy of the She’Har has reemerged.”
Moira winced, “You’re saying my brother is some sort of wizard messiah, aren’t you?” Great, just fucking great. He’ll be gloating about this forever.
Mort saw the look in her eye and began chuckling, “No, but without him we would all be in a great deal of trouble. The two of you will save the world I hope, with a little help from your aging father.”
He started walking toward the tunnel that led out, “Let’s go home.”
As Moira started to follow him her foot scuffed the dirt that covered the floor and she caught a glimpse of something carved there. Runes, etched in the stone. Her magesight stretched out and followed their shapes beneath the dirt, seeing where they went. They circled the limits of the room and a smaller circle enclosed the place her father had been standing earlier.
He hadn’t taken any chances. He must have inscribed them a week before when he had come alone.
Perhaps she should have been offended, but somehow seeing that he had made the preparations, just in case she had turned on him, didn’t bother her. Instead it brought an odd comfort. The afternoon light silhouetted her father against the cave opening and she stared up at his tall shoulders. On impulse she ran forward to embrace him from behind.
The world was a terrible place, and she might be a monster herself, but her father’s strong back made her feel safe.
“What’s that for?” he asked, looking back.
“Nothing,” she replied and then she squeezed his belly with her hands, “You’re getting fat.”
“A bit of a belly is a sign of success in a man,” he growled, “like a mane on a lion.”
“Keep telling yourself that…”
Mordecai sighed, “Back to what we were talking about. Remember what happened in that story? After Tyrion stole the loshti, when he began making preparations…”
She didn’t want to think about it, but he began telling it anyway, reminding her of the terrible things that had happened two thousand years before, when the She’Har were exterminated and humanity almost died with them.
Coming in the Winter of 2016:
The Betrayer’s Bane
The story of Tyrion Illeniel concludes in the third book of the Embers of Illeniel series. One man will sacrifice everything, and everyone, in his quest for vengeance, but the final cost is his own humanity.
Coming in 2017
Demonhome
Matthew Illeniel seeks the source of the intruders into his world, traveling across dimensions to find answers. He must unravel the mystery of the She’Har’s great enemy but the bigger challenge may lie in discovering the secrets of humanity itself.
For more information about the Mageborn series check out the author’s Facebook page:
https://www.facebook.com/MagebornAuthor
or visit the website:
http://www.magebornbooks.com/
Michael G. Manning, Centyr Dominance
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