Island Shifters: Book 02 - An Oath of the Mage (18 page)

What fight?

It did not matter. He needed to rest. Tomorrow was a very big day.

He had a wedding to plan.

C
HAPTER
11

Old Enemies

Airron’s eyes popped opened precisely at sunrise. The internal clock that signaled the time for the Morning Song to Elán was abiding and unfailing in each and every child of the forest. He yawned and stretched. Last night, he attempted to construct a bed out of his horse’s saddle and some blankets, but it was no use. It was impossible to get a good night’s rest on a bed of stone.

Ever since they had left Kondor, Melania performed the Morning Song alone, but she was awake now, sitting across from him and staring with an expectant look. He sat up and brushed back his silver hair. “What?”

She looked like she had never slept. “As husband and wife, I have decided that we should perform our prayers to Elán together. She would wish it so.”

“Oh, she would, huh? Well, I would never want to disappoint Elán.” He stood and held out his hand.

She hesitated briefly before placing her hand in his and the contact sent a blaze of electricity through his body. Taking a steadying breath, he pulled her to her feet and led her to a niche underneath an overhang of rock that would provide a measure of concealment.

“Will this do?” he asked.

She nodded and turned to face him. A bit awkwardly, they pressed both of their hands together and held them high, fingertips pointed toward the sky. Because it was only the two of them, the required pose caused them to stand very close together, and he could smell the freshness of her skin. She must have used soap when she took her brief dip in the pool yesterday and it still clung to her like an exotic fragrance.

Melania began the song, and he immediately joined in, drawn to the beauty of her voice and the stir of the words. As always, it was a very personal, very moving experience for Airron, but it was made even more so by the heat of Melania so very close.

He opened one eye. The only way he could describe her face at that moment, upturned in prayer, was ethereal as the silver frame of her hair cast her features in an enchanting glow. Even though he had yet to discover that something special that Loren promised he would find if he gave Melania a chance, he did feel a very real, very visceral attraction to her. The image of her by the pool crowded his mind until he could think of little else. But, attraction alone was not enough. Not for him.

The song almost at an end, he pushed his thoughts aside and lost himself in the final refrain. At the close of the prayer, he opened his eyes to discover Melania staring at him once again. She looked so captivating and her lips so full, that he could not stop himself. He leaned in and kissed her. She returned the kiss dispassionately as if it were a chore she had to carry out but derived no real pleasure from. Almost desperate for a reaction, he reached out and pulled her close, but she stiffened and pushed him away. “If we are to find your friend, we must be going.”

He groaned silently.
Just splendid! I would be married to the only woman on the island who can resist my charms!
Angry now, he turned from her without a word and packed his belongings. Mounting the Haventi, he directed the horse back to the road without waiting for her. She could catch up on her own.

The day wore on, hot and dusty, and it gave him plenty of time to reflect over his feelings. He was not sure exactly what it was that prevented him from accepting Melania completely and unequivocally. She really was everything he could ever hope for in a wife. He supposed it really boiled down to his continued detachment to the Elven people as a whole. He had lived in Haventhal for six years now but still felt like an outsider among the Elves. No matter how hard he tried, it just did not feel like home to him. He could not even master their blasted magic!

Airron shook himself out of his reverie. Beck depended on him to be vigilant right now, not lost in useless introspection.

Tomorrow they would reach the Koda River where they could replenish their supplies. Maybe Avalon, arrogant in her abilities, would stop at the riverside town to spend the night, and he would be able to catch up to her there.

Deciding he needed another scent, he walked his horse off the road and undressed, not bothering to tell Melania what he was doing. It was obvious that she wanted nothing to do with him and that was fine with him. Two could play that game.

He transformed into the Gangi, whose phenomenal nose could pick up the trail of a wraith, and not long into the search he caught the scent of blood—the blood of the human he tracked. For some reason, the trail was in the form of smears instead of drops. The Gangi recognized it as a kill drag and was not sure what it meant.

Continuing to follow the scent, it took him into a sharp left turn off the road where it abruptly disappeared. Confused, he circled the last spot of the smear and then lifted his head to try to gain a scent from the air. It was no use, the trail was gone.

He was not sure if it was a sudden movement, a smell or an imperceptible sound, but his animal instincts warned him of danger, and he leapt into the air to run. The action saved his life. The arrow aimed for his heart, hit his hind leg instead.

The Gangi yelped in pain and then morphed into a black wolf, head whipping around and fangs bared in a vicious growl.

The smell came to him then. The bitter scent that had been there all along, mixed with the scent of the human he tracked. The dog did not recognize the scent, but the wolf did. He had fought these creatures before.

The large hulking figure emerged from a gap in the rock formations at a run, thinking to find a dog, but came up short when he saw the wolf instead.

His one eye widened in surprise and he skidded on the stone road as he tried to turn back the way he had come.

The wolf was upon him in seconds, leaping into the air and onto the back of his assailant. The arrow was still lodged in his leg, but he ignored the pain as he thought of nothing but the kill. The attacker still held a bow in his hands and turned his body to smash the weapon into the wolf’s head. It dazed him for a moment, but he shook it off and sank his teeth into the vulnerable, blood-filled flesh of the neck. His natural senses told him that if he did not eliminate this threat, it would kill him and the Elven girl. He shook the neck in his mouth with ferocity and felt it snap. The creature’s now paralyzed legs folded beneath him and they both crashed to the ground. Distracted by thoughts of the one he protected, the wolf left himself vulnerable and the attacker managed to reach around and with a last dying act, plunged an arrow into his flank. The wolf howled out in pain.

“Airron!” He heard the shout just as he bodyshifted into his Elven form, but could not move for a moment winded from the fight and from the pain that laced up his side. “Oh, Airron!” cried Melania, dropping by his side. She quickly ran her fingers over his body, and she must have seen the two arrows because she gasped.

She jumped to her feet, and he heard her grunt with effort as she pulled at the enormous Cyman who was still lying partially flung over his body.

Apparently giving it up as impossible, she knelt beside him once again. “Airron, can you hear me? Are you all right?” She reached out and stroked his hair back from his face. “Oh, dear Elán, please let him live.” She paused. “Airron, can you hear me? Please do not die on me. I need you! I… I know I have not been a very good wife to you, but I promise I will change.” She paused again, longer this time. “If you want to know the truth, Airron, I have loved you ever since you first came to Haventhal. You did not know I existed, so I begged King Jerund to let me be the one for you. To be the one chosen as your wife. I was so happy when my wish came true, but then you seemed so displeased with the wedding and me that I acted the fool. My feelings were hurt, Airron, and I tried to act like you did not mean anything to me, but you do. Oh, Airron.” She leaned over his chest.

Airron picked his head up and she drew back with a startled squeal.

“As much as I am enjoying this,” he said, “do you think you could extract the two arrows stuck in my flesh before continuing?”

The pain in Kiernan’s lower back intensified with every step she took as she strode along the empty corridor in her home in Bardot. She tried to ignore it as her thoughts drifted to the report she received earlier of the impending marriage of Davad Etin and Ava Conry. A wedding? In the midst of an overthrow attempt? If she wondered before, she knew without a doubt now—Lord David Etin was completely mad. If she needed more evidence, there were also the reports of his erratic behavior and a new habit of talking to—and answering—himself.

Sane or not, his decisions were helping instead of hindering their plans. A large celebration would provide just the right distraction they needed.

According to Gage’s calculations, there were close to four thousand combatant soldiers in the city. Until they could marshal all of their forces spread out all across Iserlohn that meant that they were outnumbered, he informed her with a smile, but not outmatched. He proposed a quick and focused strike that would require only a small number of Sabers to enter the city. Hit the opponent from several points simultaneously to give the impression of a much broader attack, he told her. In the ensuing confusion, the Sabers will make an attempt to release the allied soldiers in the warehouses.

While the Sabers fought to take back the city of Nysa, Gage would lead the remainder of the combined armies south to confront Hugo Bassus and the main branch of Etin’s army.

Kiernan agreed with the plan with the provision that she be part of the unit to breach Nysa. In the midst of the chaos, she would slip away with Kirby Nash and go to her father. She knew passageways in the palace that no one else was aware of and was confident that she could gain access to the third floor corridor without being seen. The floor would be heavily guarded, but the wedding celebration and the carefully orchestrated diversions from the Sabers should thin them out enough for her and Kirby to fight their way through those that were left.

For a desperate and brief moment, she thought how much easier it would be if the shifters and their magic could be used. The rebellion could be put down very quickly and with little, if any, loss of life. But, she supported the mandate unequivocally. Magic could not be used to fight swords. Ever. It would cast an irrevocable stain on the image of magic that the shifters would not soon recover from. It could even result in the reinstatement of their exile.

She turned a corner in the corridor and detected a faint movement in the shadows with a hint of pride. It had become a game of hers to be able to pick out the elusive Sabers when she was sure no one else would have known they were there.

Reaching the stairs, she held her belly as she descended to the second floor where the guest chambers were located. As always when she was alone, she thought of her husband. She missed Beck so much. It was torture thinking about what Avalon Ravener could be doing to him at that very moment. The only thing that kept her going was the knowledge that Airron was looking for him. If anybody could find him, it would be her bodyshifter friend. For the third time that day, she beseeched the Highworld to give Airron the strength he needed to bring her husband—her life—back to her.

Right now, however, she had another urgent matter to deal with.

At the second landing, she turned right down the balconied hallway. Finding the room she wanted, she knocked softly on the door.