Island Shifters: Book 02 - An Oath of the Mage (27 page)

The Saber Captain crouched, but it was too late. His face went slack, and he stood back upright with a jerk and remained there motionless.

“You are good, Your Grace,” said Roman. “Although, if Captain Nash had not seen me in Bardot, you never would have figured it out until it was too late.” He shrugged. “Actually, it already is too late.

“Do not look at him, Miss Belle, he is a mindshifter. Roman Traynor has turned on us.”

“Turned?” the Saber questioned sarcastically. “I was never yours to begin with!”

Kiernan screamed as another contraction griped her in its throes.

Miss Belle threw her body over Kiernan. “You come near this child and I will kill you Saber Traynor. So help me, I will kill you!”

“Move!” he screamed at the woman.

Kirby, oblivious to what was happening in his mindshifted state, began dragging furniture once again across the floor toward the door to finish his barrier.

Kiernan knew that Roman would never allow her to give birth. Doing so would only restore her mindshifting ability, the most powerful in the land, and he would be no match for her then.

Roman grabbed Miss Belle by the hair and dragged her off Kiernan’s body. Highworld bless her, the woman kicked and screamed the entire time, but Roman had enough and landed a crushing blow with his fist that rendered her dear protector unconscious.

It was only her and Roman now.

He picked up an edge of the linen tablecloth she was lying on and started to drag her up the aisle of Grace Hall.

Numbly, she gazed up at the mural of the city of Nysa high above her head and thought of her mother, the Queen Grace Kenley Everard, and wondered what she would do in Kiernan’s place. She also thought of Beck, Kenley, and finally her unborn son. Tears began to trickle down her anguished features.

Roman looked back at her prone body. “Do not cry, Your Grace, your suffering will be over soon. I promise.”

When the next pain racked her body, she was thinking that it might not be such a bad thing.

C
HAPTER
17

A Rise From the Ashes

At the sight of Airron standing at the cave entrance, Avalon bent over and in a brief shimmer of air, shed the young girl image for her own, newly misshapen form. When she straightened, her white, translucent body, plagued with black splotches, looked even more grotesque. She unfurled her black wings wide and bellowed a high-pitched screech at the top of her lungs.

If Beck could have covered his ears, he would have.

“Whoa, Avalon,” remarked Airron. “Wish I could tell you that time has been good to you, but quite obviously that would be a lie.”

With a guttural growl, she took a running leap and flew the rest of the way at Airron and his body disappeared under a flurry of beating wings and slashing talons.

Cyman soldiers rushed into the main chamber from rooms beyond, but skidded to a stop at the spectacle of the fighting bodyshifters. The guard, Cyrus, thrust his big arm out to halt the soldiers when it looked as though they may join in. He then swung his one-eyed gaze up to Beck as if to question in his mind the validity of Beck’s statements.

Beck nodded once in confirmation and then forgot about the Cymans, his concern all on Airron. His friend’s clothes fell to the floor in a mound as he shifted into an eagle. The ferocity of the combat between the two winged creatures as they tore at each other was frightening to watch. Beck could not imagine how either one could survive the horrific injuries being inflicted.

Beck drummed his heels against the cave wall in despair, wishing he could go to Airron’s aid. “Get me down from here!” he screamed, but knew it was useless. Cyrus would not cross that line and Beck even told him he did not expect it. He just felt incredibly impotent watching his friend battle for both of their lives.

The air took on a shimmering sheen, and Airron shifted again— into the black Grayan wolf this time. Avalon responded with her own wolf, this one light gray in color but just as imposing in size.

The gray lunged, but the black wolf hunched down, causing her to tumble across the floor and almost out of the cave entrance into the night air. Somehow, the gray scrambled upright mere inches from the lip of the shelf, bared her teeth in an angry snarl, and attacked again, jaws snapping in the air. Again, the black evaded the gray’s strike by seeming to disappear into thin air.

Airron’s mouse grinned up at the gray wolf from the floor and then darted into a crack in the cave wall. Avalon responded with her own rodent and followed right behind Airron, wiggling into the tight opening and vanishing from sight.

Beck could hear the scuffling of tiny feet and the distressed squeals of the fighting mice through the walls, and then one mouse reappeared. Airron sprouted up into the air and quickly sealed the entrance with his fallen shirt.

He turned to Beck. “That will not hold her long. How do I get you down from…?”

The cave wall exploded outward in a hail of rock already loosened by Beck’s earlier summons. The mountain groaned as chips of stone and dust coated the air.

An enormous gorilla stepped out of the haze of debris and beat its chest with a ferocious bellow.

“Airron! Watch out!”

The primate grabbed Airron around the neck with its large, human-like hands and slammed Airron to the ground. His friend was unable to break his fall and landed hard, his head striking the stone floor with a terrible thud.

Avalon shifted into her winged body and stood over the unconscious Airron. Beck screamed at her, but it did no use. She did not even look up at him. She had her prize in her sights—the bodyshifter who scarred her for life—and she was going to exact retribution.

Her sinister laugh rang through the cave, and then she finally did look up at him and pointed with a curved, yellow talon. “You are next!”

She leaned over Airron and her mouth opened abnormally wide in jerky movements, gruesome rows of tiny, pointed teeth reaching for his throat.

“No!” Beck thrashed helplessly, his heels now making indentations in the stone behind him. He was so distraught that at first he thought he was imaging things when a female Elf reared up behind Avalon.

She had a dagger in her hand.

Kicking out with her right foot, the Elf landed a swift kick to Avalon’s temple, and the winged creature fell to the cave floor. Avalon quickly turned on her back but before she could cast a spell, the Elf dropped down beside her effortlessly and plunged the dagger into her chest. A last tormented scream erupted from the witch’s deformed mouth, and then she was still.

The deed complete, the female Elf simply stood and dusted off her emerald dress as if killing the most dangerous sorceress on the island had been of no great import.

Airron began to stir, and the female immediately went to him. “Are you all right?” she questioned tenderly, probing the back of his head with her fingers.

“Ouch!” said Airron groggily and waved her ministrations away from him. He looked at her with one open eye. “I thought I asked you to stay at camp?”

She rolled her violet eyes. “Really? Now, what good would that have done you, my husband?”

“Husband?” asked Beck. “Mister-I-will-never-tie-myself-down-Falewir?”

The female grimaced. “That explains everything.”

Airron looked up at him as if seeing him for the first time. “Oh, hey, Beck. How are you doing up there?”

Beck shrugged. “Besides the agonizing pain, the unquenchable thirst, and the ravenous hunger? Not bad, actually.”

Airron sat up gingerly.

“You have a hard head,” his wife proclaimed. “You will be just fine.”

He threw her a sarcastic smile. “Lovely, isn’t she?”

Airron leaned over to feel the pulse at Avalon’s neck. “The witch is dead,” he confirmed. When he stood, he noticed the Cymans standing at the back of the cavern. “Good guys or bad guys?” he questioned Beck and bladed his posture for a potential fight.

“Good, I think.”

The Cyman leader spoke. “I am Cyrus, and we do not wish to battle with you, Elf. We ‘ave done as the earthshifter asked and we did not intervene. ‘E must now ‘old up ‘is end and allow us a peaceful return to our ‘ome in Nordik.”

“My friend’s word is good,” Airron validated. “You can trust in that.”

The Elven woman went to the far corner of the cave ledge and picked up two packs, throwing one to Airron. He caught it and walked over to his clothes trapped underneath the rubble of the cave wall. His naked body was covered in angry-looking scratches and bite marks, but he quickly dressed back into his now dusty tunic and leggings.

“Airron! Let me treat your wounds first.”

“No time, but you can help Beck. Looks like he was in a fight with an alley cat. An enormous and enraged alley cat.” Airron looked at the Cymans. “Who has the keys?”

Two Cyman warriors rushed over and unlocked Beck’s shackles and lowered him to the ground. He could do nothing more than sit there for a moment as his weakened and cramped muscles refused to support his weight.

Airron’s wife approached with a small bag and began to dress his wounds. “I am Melania by the way.”

“I can honestly say that I have never been more relieved to meet anyone in my entire life, Melania. If you had not shown up when you did, we would be dead right now. Thank you.”

She bowed her head.

“She is a remarkable herbalist, Beck,” interjected Airron. “Your wounds will heal in no time.”

Beck nodded gratefully and then looked pointedly at Airron. “A wife? Is this what you wanted to talk about after Rogan’s wedding?”

“Yeah, it was weighing on my mind.”

“I can see how a secret marriage might do that.”

Airron waved his hand. “We will have to postpone the talk once again. We have another disaster to forestall. The city of Nysa is being besieged by a rogue army and…”

“What?” Beck interrupted. “Where is Kiernan?”

“If I know your wife, right in the middle of the fight.”

Beck groaned and politely gestured to Melania that he had had enough. He struggled to stand, but managed to keep himself upright when he did.

Melania walked over to Airron. “I guess this it then. You travel north, and I go east.”

He nodded. “I guess so. Are you sure you will be all right?”

Her violet eyes welled with tears. “Yes.” She turned and stuffed her medicine bag into her pack and then looked back at Airron. Beck could see immense pride in the Elven woman’s eyes and posture, and the hesitation to say her next words. “You know, Airron, you still have time to choose. You have only to say the word, and I will stay.”

Airron’s face was stoic and, to Beck’s surprise, he gave her a terse shake of his head.

Beck did not think he had ever witnessed as much pain on another person’s face as he saw on Melania’s at that moment.

Finally, she nodded in resigned acceptance and walked out of the cavern and apparently, Airron’s life.

Cyrus peered out over the valley of Farout Falls and for the first time in his memory, a smile lit up his face. In all likelihood, he had smiled as a child, but could not remember actually doing so. Could not remember ever having anything
to
smile about.