An Oath Of The Kings (Book 4)
Read An Oath Of The Kings (Book 4) Online
Authors: Valerie Zambito
Island Shifters
Book Four
An Oath of the Kings
Valerie Zambito
Copyright © 2014 Valerie Zambito
All rights reserved.
Cover Art by Nick Deligaris
www.deligaris.com
Other Titles by Valerie Zambito
Island Shifters - An Oath of the Blood (Book 1)
Island Shifters - An Oath of the Mage (Book 2)
Island Shifters - An oath of the Children (Book 3)
Island Shifters - An Oath of the Kings (Book 4)
Angels of the Knights - Fallon (Book 1)
Angels of the Knights - Blane (Book 2)
Angels of the Knights - Nikki (Book 3)
Island Shifters Series Reviews
"From this book's first paragraph, I was hooked until the very end."
"I have to say it has been a very long time since I read a book and got goose bumps!"
"I was swept away by the colorful characters and brisk pacing of the book, almost compelled to keep turning the pages as Zambito's action-packed story carried me along."
"Without a doubt, this is, by far, the best book I have ever read in my entire life. As someone who has read over 780 books in the last 20 years, that's saying something."
Map of Massa
Table of Content
s
The knife. Nothing else mattered anymore. Nothing except the knife and the nameless wielders so painstakingly thorough at their work. There had been many since her capture, but she no longer kept track.
A slow hiss slipped from her lips as the knife pierced her foot, and her body arched off the table in agony. The metal wiggled its way beneath the hardened skin of her heel and sliced upward over her sole. Demon’s breath, had they run out of places on her arms, legs and face? She’d always assumed that the tough layers of the feet would hurt less than other more fleshy parts of the body, but the reality proved otherwise.
By the time the knife cut through halfway to her toes, she tumbled into unconsciousness.
A short time later, when the horror of waking life niggled at her once again, the torturers were gone. A ragged breath of relief caused spittle to drip down the side of her chin, but she had neither the care nor the energy to wipe it away.
Did these people know that hers had been the name of legends once? That her existence in this world stretched back over many centuries? Of course, they did, and that was why she was here.
She had gone by several names over the years. The Mages called her Oracle, but her name at birth had been Edina Milleaux. The very first realmshifter according to Garrett Kenley and Galen Starr. A talent to venerate, they insisted fervently.
Alas, her father had seen it quite differently, instead declaring her skill vile and unnatural. A sickness to be eradicated. His looming, menacing glare was the last image recorded in her memory before he poured acid into her eyes. He had never understood that her sight had nothing to do with her ability to visit other realms. In fact, the resulting blindness only served to heighten her power.
But, that was then.
Now, there was only the knife.
For months now, they had come to her without a single day between cuttings. If she hadn’t been so full of poppyvine, she could have realmshifted out of this cold, blasted cave, but the plant-derived opiate dulled her ability to shift leaving her unable to escape her tortuous hell.
But, it won’t be long now. I cannot hold on much longer.
How she wished she could go to Arias Sarphia and warn him of what her kidnappers planned. Arias could not see into this world, and wouldn’t recognize the evil that visited him.
It made her wonder. Why must men repeat the same mistakes over and over? Why seek power just to subjugate others?
After hundreds of years in this world, I still have no answer.
There was an exception, of course, and his name was Beck Atlan. He was the only man she ever met who sought power solely to help others, and thinking of him crumbled the last of her resolve. She could only pray that he would eventually understand that she had no other choice. For in these last few moments of life, it suddenly mattered to her very much what the First Mage thought of her.
Despite the pain that thudded through every inch of her body, a small smile lifted her lips as she embraced her imminent death. She had walked the realm of the Highworld before and knew what awaited her there. She simply had no more to give here. Her mind resisted the efforts of the torturers for months, but her body had now reached its limit. Try as she might, she could no longer hang on to this naked, shriveled husk that she called home in this world. She longed to be free, unencumbered by flesh.
Free of the knife.
A shadow appeared at the entrance to the cave and she hated herself for flinching. A woman stepped through holding a lantern. She hadn’t seen this particular face since her capture on the first day.
Gemini Starr came forward, holding the knife out in front of her. “Good evening, Oracle.”
“I thought you were dead,” she croaked, her throat rough from disuse.
“I am,” the gray-haired sorceress answered and ran the sharp tip of the knife down the side of her face in a threatening caress. “You do not look well, my dear. It is time. Let go. At long last, you must tell me what I wish to know.”
A lone tear dripped from the Oracle’s milky, white eye and she swallowed. “Yes. I will tell you.”
Earthshine
A firework exploded at Rayan’s feet and he jumped out of the way with a piercing shriek. The callous chuckles and pointed fingers that followed lifted his lip in a snarl. But, he swallowed back the curse that danced on the tip of his tongue, ducked through a gap in the crowd and slipped away.
Idiots! You would think this was their first Earthshine Festival.
Heart still racing, he let himself be swept away with the mob headed toward the arena where the favorite contest of the day was due to begin.
Big, sweat-soaked men heaving a log back and forth? Never did see the appeal myself.
A throng of people three deep were already there pushed up against the wooden rails of the arena. Rayan pushed rudely through them, ignoring their blistering glances. Fortunately, it didn’t last. Their anger was quickly forgotten as seven shirtless earthshifters jogged out into the middle of the field and a stream of deafening cheers rang out. At the end of the line ran Beck Atlan, the Prince of Iserlohn.
And, First Mage.
Who could ever forget that?
The Prince wore a wide, confident grin. His brown hair sported a few more gray hairs at the temples than Rayan remembered, but he looked fit and trim, his muscles bulging bigger than the rest of his team. A chain with the Golden Lion of House Everard hung from his neck, but even without it, observers would be quick to judge him as a man of authority. Those proud, square shoulders and shrewd, blue eyes. That bare chest that gleamed powerfully in the heat of the day.
Rayan readily admitted that it would take a man far braver than he to go up against that.
The earthshifters came to a coordinated halt, and the Prince walked along the row patting each of his teammates on the chest with an easy smile.
And, that is undoubtedly the most dangerous thing about him.
Beck Atlan was loved. Especially here in Bardot, but by almost everyone in Iserlohn. The only exception perhaps the ambitious nobles of the King’s Court jealous of his rule. To them, he would forever be the enemy. Forever the obstacle standing in the way of their covetous dreams.
More applause—if not as boisterous—sounded as the opposing team made their way into the arena, and all the players lined up along both ends of a twenty-foot log.
Amid laughter and good-natured ribbing, each side hoisted the heavy wood in their hands and the game got underway. Rayan noticed that Beck Atlan, in the rearmost position, had not yet touched the log. He simply watched while the enormous earthshifters grunted with effort, rocking the log back and forth in an attempt to move the flag tied to the middle over a deep line scratched into the ground.
Even without their seventh person, the Prince’s team appeared to be winning until one of the earthshifters lost his balance and fell to his knees.
All planned, of course.
As if on cue, the crowd cried out. “Prince, help them! Prince Beck!”
Beck gave a roar of laughter and grabbed the log with both hands. It took a single mighty shove to send the other team flying back to the ground and the flag to cross the line. Cries turned to cheers and money exchanged hands—a sign that the Earthshine Festival had now truly begun.
Rayan turned to leave, but looked back at the appreciative murmurs drifting through the crowd. A woman in a red silk dress and golden sandals laced to the knees walked onto the field.
No, not walked.
Strode. With purpose.
Long, wavy hair hung loose down her back. A black belt cinched her small waist and held a jeweled dagger in place on her hip. Icy green eyes sparkled as they focused in on their target.
A wide smile lit up the Prince’s face when he saw her coming. The earthshifters in her way stumbled back to let her through. For none could stand in the magnetic path between these two people. Powerful. Beautiful. Dangerous. All three and more.
Kiernan Atlan reached her husband and threw her arms around his neck in a congratulatory embrace. He lifted her off her feet and all other life ceased to exist for the royal couple who had eyes only for each other.
Rayan walked away. He had seen enough. Enough to realize that the cabal had their work cut out for them.
****
Kiernan stood on the balcony three stories above the green and smiled down at the festivities still going strong despite the hour. A sudden gust of wind snapped the arm veils at her biceps and she held them in place with her hands.
She sighed.
Another Earthshine in Massa.
The one day of the year when the sun held sway over the darkness for twenty-four hours. Forever a time for remembrance as it was impossible to forget that on this day twenty-three years ago, Massans fought back against tyranny and defeated the evil Mage, Adrian Ravener.
At one time, Kiernan feared people would look upon this day as one of sorrow, but the opposite proved true. As far as most were concerned, freedom was a gift far too precious not to be treasured and celebrated, and she had to agree. Yet, it never failed to turn her thoughts to the Earthshine that she lost her beloved Bajan. How she missed him so. The hole in her heart left by his absence pained her just as deeply today as when he had died. Despite the passage of many years, it was a heartbreak that simply refused to heal.
A large arm suddenly snaked out of the shadows of the balcony and pulled her in close against a hard chest. All thoughts of Bajan flew from her mind as Beck trailed hot kisses from her ear to her throat. She leaned back into him with a soft moan, grateful that after all these years together, his touch never failed to ignite a fire in her. “You’re just in time,” she told him. “They’re getting ready for more fireworks.”
“Hmm?” he murmured.
“Fireworks,” she repeated, her breathing loud in her ears.
“I have all the fireworks I’ll ever need right here.” The last few words came out a mumbled mess as he nestled into her neck.
“You know,” she said, turning in his arms to face him, “this is the first Earthshine we’ve spent together without the children.”
He looked down at her with eyes hooded in desire. “We have children?”
“We do. Three of them. And, a granddaughter.”
“Ah, I seem to recall. The apples of my eye.” He lifted the thin strap of her gown with his index finger and thumb and slid it down over her shoulder. “Fortunately for you, apples are the furthest thing from my mind. In fact—”
A loud knock sounded outside of the door to their chambers.
“Ignore it,” he growled, tunneling his hands into her hair and dragging her lips to his. She returned his kiss hungrily as he swept her up into his arms.
Another knock rattled the door in its frame accompanied by a familiar voice. “Open up, child! I don’t have all day now!”
Kiernan planted a regretful kiss on the tip of Beck’s nose. “We’ll never get rid of her. Let me down,” she said, wiggling out of his arms. She ignored his curses and went into the sitting room, adjusting her gown as she went.
She opened the door.
“Highworld, child, what took so long?” Miss Belle asked, brushing by her to enter the room.
“Come right in,” Kiernan offered to the woman’s broad back.
“A letter from the Princess,” Miss Belle announced, waving a rolled parchment in the air and flopping into an armchair.
Kiernan rushed over and snatched it from her fingers with an excited yelp. Kenley, her husband, Kirby, and their two-year-old daughter, Gracyn, left for Hiberi four weeks ago, and she was anxious for news.
She sat in the chair next to Miss Belle and read.
Dear Mother,
Hiberi is just as beautiful as you described. The people have been very welcoming and gracious. Gracyn is happy and healthy and can still do no wrong in Kirby’s eyes. Baya is quite enjoying a celebrated status here and prances, yes,
prances
, for the locals.
We have decided to prolong our stay another few weeks, which will have us returning to Massa in little over a month’s time. Until then, give my love to Father. I miss you both dreadfully.
Your devoted daughter,
Kenley
Kiernan handed the note to Beck. “Well, at least I can be grateful that
half
of my family is safe,” she complained petulantly.
“The boys are safe, Kiernan. How many times must I reassure you of that?”
“It might help if I knew where they were.”
All Beck would tell her was that Kellan and Kane were now somewhere in the eastern part of the island for Mage training. The twins left over a week ago to travel first to Kondor to retrieve Reilly Radek and then to the Elven capital of Sarphia where, from there, they would hike through the Puu Rainforest to their final destination.
To make matters worse, all the nonsense about bad blood between the Moshies and the Draca Cats prevented Maks and Jain from traveling the entire distance with her sons. The boys would be unprotected in this secret place for Mage apprentices—wherever
that
was—until their training was complete.
Over the years, she made her feelings on the subject of wizardry quite clear, but in the end Kellan and Kane were determined to walk in their father’s footsteps. As much as she might not like it, her sons were men now and free to make their own decisions.
“Will the boys be required to join the Order of
Dagarmon
when they return?” she asked Beck, shivering involuntarily at thought of the young wizards who studied under Beck. Maybe it was the Iserlohn nobles’ incessant suspicions or maybe it was her dealings with Adrian Ravener. Whatever it was, something about the group made her uneasy. They were marked, of course, with the athame, which bound them to the shifter blood oath to serve and protect. They had also sworn a Mage oath. Yet, still they worried her. She had known most of these men all their lives but since returning from training, they possessed a zealotry in their eyes that had been lacking before. With their tattooed faces and this new vehemence for the art, they seemed like complete strangers to her.
To put her even more on edge, one of them recently began to trail her. Undoubtedly, on Beck’s orders, but it still made her nervous. This wizard was invisible. Literally. She just hoped her husband remembered to instruct the man not to follow her into her bath at night!
Another sharp rap on the door prevented Beck from answering her question, although she had already known the answer when she asked it. Beck walked across the room and pulled open the door. “Dax,” he greeted. “Come in.”
Kiernan sighed as one of the
Dagarmon
wearing a short, black cloak belted at the middle stepped into the room.
“Master Jordin wishes to speak to you right away, First Mage,” he said and then bowed to one knee in front of Kiernan. “My apologies for the interruption, Your Grace.”
Beck turned toward her with a sad smile. “A few moments only?”
“Of course, do what you must.”
He pulled her close and whispered in her ear, “Don’t disappear on me.”
She nodded, but would not have done so had she known then how prophetic her husband’s words would turn out to be.
****
Beck shut the door behind him and immediately sensed the second
Dagarmon
who waited in the shadows of an alcove down the corridor. Fortunately, his wife remained blissfully unaware that she had a protector. As far as he was concerned, if the stubborn woman wouldn’t see to her own safety, he would do it for her and that was all there was to it.
“Lead on, Dax,” he told the young tattooed wizard.
Beck had not approved of the
Dagarmons’
choice to mark their faces around both sides of their eyes.
Why would they wish to make themselves stand out even more than their ability already did for them?
But, he also knew that the tattoo was a sign of pride for the
Dagarmon
and they had never anticipated that most would see it as a sign of arrogance.
From the third floor, he followed Dax down the wide staircase to the foyer below. Servants in scarlet and black livery bustled in all directions carrying trays laden with food and drink. All paused with a hasty curtsy or bow as he passed.
A Royal Saber standing guard slammed fist to chest and opened the front doors wide for them.
Once outside, Beck and Dax navigated the sea of performers in the courtyard that included men on stilts, jugglers, storytelling bards and dancers. The dissonant chorus of sounds hammered at Beck’s senses and he pulled uncomfortably at the laces of his white shirt.
On instinct, he cast out with a seeking spell for any malevolent thoughts in the crowd, but found nothing to concern him. Mostly, people brimmed with happiness. A few harbored disgruntled jealousies as a favorite girl danced with another partner or a tinge of envy at the fine dress of a rival woman, but other than that, all at the Earthshine celebration was well.