Island Shifters: Book 02 - An Oath of the Mage (13 page)

“Your wife?” questioned Rogan incredulously. “Very funny, Airron. Now, tell us what is really going on. We do not have time for your usual games right now.”

Airron’s smile melted from his face when he turned to address the Elven woman. “Melania. I would like to have a few words with my friends in private. Will you please excuse us for a few moments?”

The silver-haired beauty lifted her chin and crossed her arms at her chest. “No.”

“Melania, you don’t understand…”

“It is
you
,” she declared, uncrossing her arms and gliding over to Airron in a flash on her light feet, “who does not understand. You are my husband now, Airron Falewir, and you must start behaving as such. You cannot just disappear without telling me!”

“I left a note!”

“A note! We must have these discussions together, my husband. And, as your wife, I should be traveling with you wherever you go.”

Airron ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “Look, I am sorry, Melania. It appears that I need more instruction in being a proper husband.”

“As well as a proper Elf!”

He nodded in acknowledgement. “Yes, you are right. But, right now, I must talk to my friends.” He paused. “Princess Kiernan’s husband, Beck, has disappeared and we are trying to find him.”

Melania swung her head to Kiernan, and her face turned red. Her noble upbringing overriding her anger, she bent her body into an elegant curtsy. “My apologies, Your Grace. I hope you do not judge all Elven woman by my behavior just now. Please forgive the untimely intrusion.”

Kiernan gave her a gracious nod. “I appreciate your words, Lady Melania, and I assure you that I have nothing but respect for all of the Elven women of Haventhal. Besides, I can fully appreciate how marriage to Airron could bring about this type of reaction.”

Janin snorted when she tried to hold back a laugh.

Rogan just turned his back on the conversation.

With a smirk Airron declared, “Now that everybody has had their fun, I will ask you again, Melania, to please wait for me downstairs. I will join you in just a few moments. Loren is here if you wish to seek him out for company.”

When Rogan turned back, he saw the Elven woman nod her head once and then leave the room.

Airron breathed out a sigh of relief and dropped into one of the stuffed chairs by the fireplace as soon as the door closed behind his wife.

“Married? Really, Airron?” Rogan started in immediately. “You did not think that detail important enough to share with your best friends?”

Airron’s trademark grin was nowhere to be seen. “I guess I have been in denial.” He stood abruptly. “It is King Jerund’s fault! He insisted that it was time I took a wife. For weeks and weeks, he badgered me about it, but then one evening a few weeks ago, the old goat tricked me into attending one of his many fêtes, which I had been quite successfully avoiding, and it turned out to be my wedding!” He was pacing now. “What could I have done? All of

Elven high society was in attendance. Melania was already standing at the altar looking so lovely…”

“Have you consummated…” Rogan began to interrupt.

“What? Highworld, no! Not that I do not want to,” he quickly clarified. “She is very beautiful, of course, but how can you be intimate with a woman that nags at you all the time? For two weeks, she has been trying to mold me into the perfect Elf! Well, I am not perfect and that is perfectly fine with me!”

The women seemed to be at loss for words so Rogan approached his friend and patted him on the back. “Everything will turn out for the best, Airron, but right now we have important decisions to make.”

Airron nodded.

Rogan looked over at Kiernan. “As Airron was saying before his
wife
appeared, we need to split up, although I am worried about you and Kenley traveling back to Bardot by yourselves.”

Kiernan gave him a withering look. “I will pretend that you did not say that.”

Janin snickered.

“Just find Beck,” Kiernan pleaded, looking at Airron. “Please just find my husband.”

“My word on it,” the Elf replied. “Now, I have to go have a discussion with Melania and send her back to Haventhal where she belongs.”

Kiernan shook her head. “She does not seem the type who will go easily.”

“No, she won’t. She is a spoiled noble brat and is far too used to getting her way all the time. Well, those beautiful violet eyes do not work on me! No way! She will do as I say or my name is not Airron Falewir!”

“So, she’s going with you?” asked Loren Faolin, his thin eyebrows arched in disbelief.

Airron strode angrily along the marble foyer and exited through the palace doors. “It appears that way.”

As always in Kondor, or anywhere in Deepstone for that matter, the sound of chisels and hammers striking stone permeated the air. Dwarven masons tended to the multitude of stonework in the city around the clock, and the pride they took in their workmanship was legendary throughout Massa.

“Where are you going?” asked Loren.

“To the stables to saddle the horses! I was going to try and track Beck on my own four legs as a Gangi dog, which by the way are the best trackers on the island, but, no, now I have to travel by horse
with my wife!”

“Would you like me to go with you and help out?” his friend asked, cautiously.

Airron quickly shook his head. “Thank you, but, no. The more people along, the more the scents will be confused.”

“As you wish,” Loren said, and for some reason he sounded relieved. “I will bid you farewell then. I need to return to my duty with the Gladewatchers.”

Airron stopped and stuck out his arm to trade grips with Loren. “I will see you soon, then. Tell the First and King Jerund what has happened and that I will be detained for a period of time.”

Loren nodded and turned to depart, but then stopped and looked back at him. “I think you should give Melania a chance, Airron. If you dig under the surface a bit, I think you will find something quite unexpected.”

A high shriek cut through the air. “Airron Falewir! Have you not saddled those horses yet? What is the matter with you?”

“You were saying?” Airron asked Loren.

The Elf bowed and backed away hastily. “I was saying that I must be on my way. Good luck to you, my friend.” And, with that, he was gone.

Airron sighed and watched his wife approach. Was there any credibility to what Loren said? He had been so busy avoiding Melania, but maybe he should have been putting more effort into getting to know her better. She was beautiful. A blind elf would be hard pressed to miss that fact. She was wearing a high-necked, sleeveless emerald dress that swirled around her hips as she moved on feet as light as air. Her arms were tanned and muscular and her lips…

“Hello! Are you going to just stand there staring all day?” she asked.

Airron started. “What? No. No, you are right. We must get moving.”

She nodded her head in approval and walked past him toward the stables. A Dwarven groom was just bringing their horses around when they arrived. The groom handed the reins of a powerfully built, sable Haventi to him and a black and white Pinto to Melania. He was pleasantly surprised to see such high caliber horses in Deepstone. If there was anything an Elf of Haventhal knew, it was horses.

Melania was a very good equestrian, that much he did know about her, and they quickly stowed their packs behind their saddles and mounted.

“Earlier I tracked Beck’s scent moving in a westerly direction toward the Koda River,” he informed her. “We should ride that way for few leagues, and then I will bodyshift again to get a fresh trail.”

She simply nodded.

He suddenly thought of something. “You have never seen me shift. Will it bother you to see me transform into an animal?”

She shook her head. “I knew what I was getting into when I married you.”

What did that mean? He decided not to pursue, and they started their journey through the Land of Stone sharing little conversation.

Two hours later, they shared a cold meal of bread and cheese from their saddles, along with Airron’s promise of fresh rabbit and leeks over a fire when they stopped for the evening. Knowing he would not find wood along the way, a bundle of logs sat behind him on the saddle.

He looked out over the horizon. The road they traveled cut through the red sandstone landscape like the winding body of a serpent and seemed to go on forever with no end in sight. Enormous buttes in a variety of shapes and sizes and colors, pierced the blue sky like the fingers of a giant, fossilized for all time. The black holes of what must have been hundreds of caves and caverns dotted the vivid landscape.

Airron much preferred the lush hills and forests of Haventhal, but had to admit that Deepstone had a picturesque beauty that was very alluring and mysterious. He could now understand some of the Dwarves unyielding obsession with preserving the beauty of the stone.

This far outside of the city was eerily deserted, although he knew that they would encounter villages and people closer to the life-giving Koda.

He stopped the Haventi. “I better make sure we are still on Beck’s trail.”

Melanie halted her horse and alighted to the ground with ease, brushing the dust from her emerald dress and then securing a knife belt around her middle. “Is there any shade or water in this Highworld-forsaken land?”

Airron handed her one of the two water bags attached to his saddle. “You can rest over by those boulders,” he said, pointing to a flat formation of rocks. “That should afford you some comfort from the heat. I won’t be long.”

Accepting the bag without further comment, she walked the Pinto off the road.

Airron reached out with his mind and tried to create a mental connection with his horse using the technique King Jerund showed him, but it did not work. After all these years, he was still unable to perform the Elven magic that should have been innate to him. Frustrated, he called out to Melania. “Can you tell this bloody animal to stay put?”

Almost immediately, the Haventi let out a contented whisker, so she must have done as he asked.

He undressed behind the horse, and then the air glistened as his body contorted downward into a Gangi dog.

The dog immediately took off at a run and put his snout to the ground, swinging his head back and forth along the road. The scent of the human he tracked was very well known to him, and he would be able to pick it out even with the overpowering smell of the horses nearby.

Many scents saturated the ground and the air. Humans, animals, and something else. Something not quite human, but he could not identify the source. Dismissing the puzzle, he ventured further down the road and it was not long before he found the scent he was searching for.

He had found the trail of the human.

The Gangi was so busy with his work that a new dangerous scent did not immediately register in his mind. Simultaneously with the rabid smell that drifted to his nose came the terrified shriek of the Elven woman.

C
HAPTER
9

Half an Army is Better Than None

“I would not be overly worried about Maximus, Davad,” remarked Abram. “He will have to come out to drink and eat at some point. Stubborn he may be, but I do not think that he will choose to starve to death.”