Island Shifters: Book 03 - An Oath of the Children (9 page)

“Emile can control it. It takes direction from him and only him.”

That was interesting news, thought Hendrix. He had not realized Emile had been involved so closely with the Vypir.

Three technicians appeared at the door to the Vypir’s room. One held another
crossbow and he hastily shot off a dart
and it sank deep into
the
Vypir’s neck. The Vypir rolled off the drained corpse on the floor and took a step toward the technicians, but did not make it
far before falling face first onto the floor.

“Tolah!” Emile entered the room and immediately ran to the Vypir. “Help me!” he ordered.

The technicians rushed to obey and helped Emile carry the unconscious Vypir
back to the table.

Hendrix turned toward the technician. “Tolah?”

The technician shrugged. “That is its name. I believe
it
was the original name of the Mage before…before he became the Vypir.”

Hendrix was repulsed by the beast and did not want to know it had a name. Did not want to
be reminded that
it had
once
been a living, thinking individual.
He only wanted the abomination to stay alive long enough to drain the magic users sailing for Ellvin shores.

He turned toward the technician
and grabbed him by his
tongor
under the throat. “I am counting on you to ensure that nothing happens to that creature. If the Vypir dies, you die.”

As soon he let go, the technician swallowed and bowed low to the ground. “Aye, Your Eminence.”

C
HAPTER
6

B
ETRAYAL

Afternoon shadows offered little relief from the heat as
Kellan rode his mount next to Kirby Nash. He glanced over his shoulder at the
others in their party
spread out behind.
After two days of
travel from Northfort to Bardot
just the day prior,
an
unexpected trip back to the port city was
the last thing he wanted to do.
And,
with the protectors and horses to slow their progress
this time,
it would
take
closer to
three
days.

He reached for the water bag hung around his saddle
horn
and took a long drink.
After wiping
his mouth
with the back of his hand, he looked at Kirby.
“What do you think, Captain?”

“Hmm?”

Kellan shook his head, wondering why the
Royal Saber seemed
so
preoccupied
ever
since the trip began.
“The Ellvinians. Why do you think they are here?”

The Saber shrugged his shoulders. “Could be anything.
Maybe they were having trouble at sea and it was easier to return to Massa for assistance
rather than continue on to Ellvin.”

“After
all this time?”

Kirby waved a hand
in front of
his face irritably. “Regardless, we will get our answers
soon enough.”

Kellan
looked
over his shoulder at
his twin brother riding
directly behind him, the sword of Iserlohn peeking
up
over his shoulder. Like most earthshifters, Kellan
did not carry a weapon, but Kane chose to
wear the family heirloom
that their mother once wore.

Surprisingly, Kane jerked his chin toward Kirby.

Kellan glanced back
at the Captain, and saw him trying to swat away a very large bumblebee that continued to try and land on his nose.

“Demon’s breath! Get away from me!” the Saber bellowed, arms windmilling around his head.

Kellan smiled. It was unusual for
Kane
to use his magic. Whenever pranks were pulled on the protectors,
his twin preferred to stay in the
background and rarely participated. In fact, he rarely spoke
to anyone
at all except him and their mother.

Kellan’s guard, Gregor Steele, nudged his
horse
close and pointed ahead.
“Your Grace, a rider is approaching.”

Kellan stood in his stirrups for a better look. It was a single rider and he was coming fast. Faster than the rutted dirt road allowed.
“He’s going to kill himself!
Jala, send up a warning signal for the rider to slow.” If that did not stop
him,
the four shifters, five guards, and two Draca Cats should do it.

Jala wove her hands in the air and let loose a fireball that screamed into the air above their heads and exploded in a loud pop.

The rider pulled up on the reins of his horse, but instead of evading the large group, continued directly toward them.
As the
rider drew closer, Kellan could now see that it was a young boy.
When the boy’s gaze fell on the
Draca Cats, his eyes widened in surprise and
he
slid from the still moving horse and fell to a knee. “Thank the Highworld, Your Graces.”

Gregor
dismounted and
grabbed the
bridle
of the boy’s horse before it caught scent of the Dracas and bolted.

“What is the matter, boy?” Kirby asked.

“Ships, sir! Ships have come to Northfort! My father told me to ride for Bardot.”

Kirby held his hands out to calm the boy. “We have already had word, lad, and are on our way to Northfort now to receive the visitors. Now, run along and for Highworld’s sake, slow that horse!”

Kellan straightened
in his saddle.
“Wait.
How many ships?”

“I’m not sure, Your Grace. My father
dispatched
a message
to the palace in Bardot
earlier,
but when more ships appeared, he sent me to request the presence of the royals.”

“Who is your father?”
Kellan asked.

“Lars Kingsley, Your Grace. The mayor of Northfort.”

Kellan looked at Kirby.
“It would
appear that your
trouble at
sea theory is becoming more implausible by the moment.”

“Let us not
forget,” Kane said softly from behind, “that the
last time
an armada descended on Massa, war broke out.”

Kellan ran a hand through his hair as he considered his brother’s ominous reminder.
“How many soldiers are stationed at Northfort?”
he
asked the Captain.

“Good question, Your Grace.
One hundred or so, but that number suddenly seems dangerously low.” He turned to the boy. “Ride on to Bardot as your father asked. Seek out an Iserlohn soldier and tell them Captain Nash has ordered three
hundred troops to Northfort immediately.”

“Yes,
sir.” The boy jumped to his feet and mounted his horse.

“Hold on!” ordered
Kellan. “We will need
watershifters, too. Tell the soldier to have
a dozen
watershifters meet us at the
harbor.”

The boy nodded and Kellan watched him
dig his heels into the horse’s ribs and gallop south.

“It could be nothing,” Kirby reasoned.

“Or, we could be in a whole lot of trouble,” Kane pointed out.

Kane might not speak often, but when he did, Kellan was inclined to listen.

* * * * *

Kenley
stepped off
the raft in the Aquatainian village of Marboro beneath the Sarphia grate
and stretched, sore from the days of traveling. She smiled at Reilly.
“Unless you are trying to soak me, I do
not get
enough
opportunity
to see you watershift. Your skills are
truly exceptional.”

“Tell me about it!” Digby exclaimed. “I might as well have not even been here at all. I’ve never seen anything quite like it.”

The young Dwarf reached up to pat the lanky Digby on the shoulder. “I have learned from the master.”

Digby
waved a webbed hand dismissively. “Bah, you were born with more power than I will ever have.”

Baya jumped off the raft onto the sandy beach and shook out her magnificent coat.

“Now,
Reilly,” Kenley said, “I
am not sure how long I will be, but with Iben left behind
in Bardot,
it would
give me peace of mind
if you just stayed
here
until
I returned. Do you think you can do that?”

She expected an argument, but Digby quickly interjected.
“Do
not
worry, Your Grace.
I will keep
the lad in good company until you return.”
He leaned in close to the Dwarf’s ear. “I know a few pretty watershifters that have been very anxious to meet you.”

A grin to rival Airron Falewir’s appeared on Reilly’s face.
“Well, my friend?
What are we waiting for?”

The issue settled,
Kenley
bid her friends goodbye and
led Baya toward the limestone stairs that would
deliver
them just outside of the Haventhal capital city of Sarphia. Long ago, her father showed
her
a much shorter way through the tangle of magic encapsulating the mystical land of the Draca Cats, Callyn-Rhe. Still, it would take most of the day for her and Baya to navigate the Puu Rainforest.

Kenley
climbed out of the cool subterranean underground,
and
winced
as the
thick humidity of the forest
lay over her shoulders like a heavy blanket.
The lower canopy of the oversized trees and plants left little room for air movement and as a result of the trapped moisture, all she could see was a screen of mist that clung low to the ground in wispy tendrils and all she could hear was the steady drip of water rolling off the leaves.

She immediately stripped her cloak and stowed it in her bag.

Baya issued a low, warning growl and a Gardien appeared
out of the fog like an apparition.

“Good day, Gardien.
It is
Princess Kenley of Iserlohn
and Baya.”

The young Elf’s face registered excitement
when he saw Baya. For some reason she had yet to learn, the Elves revered the Draca Cats
of Callyn-Rhe as a sacred entity. Anywhere outside of
Bardot,
it was very rare to get a glimpse of the legendary cats so this was
most likely
the first time the soldier had laid eyes on one. “It is an honor to meet you both.”

Baya clicked her tongue in satisfaction
very well aware of the Elves
high regard
for her race.

“We are passing through on our way to Callyn-Rhe. I hope that does not pose a problem?”

“No, no.
You are more than welcome to
continue on your way.”

“Thank you.”

The Gardien bowed low to the ground
in front of Baya
as they passed.

Stop your preening and come along now,
she told
her friend.

I do not preen.

No? I cannot see your eyes for the lift of your nose.

The cat ignored
the taunt and
followed
her onto the
narrow path
that cut
deep into the rainforest.
The
pervasive
dampness pressed down on Kenley and she soon
began to sweat.
Keep your eyes
out for dangers from above
, she warned.

The Moshies
, Baya growled.

Yes.

They continued forward throughout the day without incident. At one point, Kenley noticed slithering movement in the limbs above her head, but whatever it was quickly vanished back into the heavy foliage.
They stopped once to eat, and Baya
called out to
Felice to no avail.

I do not like this, Princess.