Island Shifters: Book 02 - An Oath of the Mage (5 page)

The hour went by quickly and after reading the last page, he shut the book with a frown.

“Your wife would not be pleased to find you reading that.”

Beck looked up. Gemini Starr was standing in his doorway with a smile on her face.

He set the book down and walked around his desk. “Gemini. I did not hear you come in.”

“Obviously,” she said dryly.

She strode past him to the desk and picked up The Protetor. “Can you really read anything in this book?”

He nodded. The book was bespelled so only his eyes could see the contents.

“Like I said, your wife would not be pleased. Nor would most people on this island. The time of the Mage is past, Beck.”

“And, how do you feel, Gemini? You know what can be accomplished with a Mage’s knowledge.”

“You sound suspiciously like your great grandfather.”

“Is that such a bad thing? He was a great man.”

“Yes, and you saw where that got him.”

Beck decided not to pursue the matter further and plucked the book from her fingers. “There is nothing more I can do in any case. The last instruction is a cryptic passage that I have no ability to decipher, so you will have your wish. It is done, for now.”

“It is for the best, Beck.”

“So, I keep hearing. Now, I am sure you did not come here to talk about Mage business.”

“No, I came to tell you that I have decided to go back to Maximus this evening after my visit here. I do not like the thought of him without a close advisor at hand. He may need me.”

“I am sure he does,” Beck said with a wink and then ducked her swat. “Kidding aside, I know I will sleep much better knowing you are there. Are you sure you have the time?”

She nodded. “Sapphire is seeing to the administration of the coven in my absence.”

Beck looked at the sky outside through the window. “And, I have to leave myself. But, make yourself at home,” he said, gesturing around the room. “Do you need an escort back to Nysa?”

She reached up to pat his face tenderly. “No, I will be fine. Be careful on your trip, Beck.”

“I will.” He embraced her one last time and then headed for the door.

“B…Beck?”

Her small gasp behind him caused him to turn back. “What is it?” he asked, suddenly concerned. Her face was lined with a fear that was not there a few seconds ago, and she was gripping the desk so hard her knuckles were white.

“I…I am not sure. I just had the strangest feeling overcome me.” He started to approach, but she waved him away with an embarrassed chuckle. “It is gone now. Please accept my apology, Beck. Just an old woman’s superstitious mind is all. Go on or you will be late.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, yes. I am fine. Honestly.”

Beck nodded but was still reluctant to leave her. “Are you…”

“Beck, go!”

He held his hands up in surrender and walked out of his office, but a disquieting feeling that he should be doing something more followed closely on his heels.

When Beck left, Gemini regained her composure. Whatever premonition had caused her to react in terror had disappeared before she had time to examine it more closely. And, this was not the first time.

Still uneasy, she went to the window to peer down at the busy streets of Bardot. Oh, how she loved this magical city. Unheard of only a few years ago, here magic shifting was out in the open where it belonged.

She told Beck that the time of the Mage was past, but maybe the same could be said for the sorceress. Every day, more of her precious Gems were leaving sorcery to study shifting. It would not be long before their numbers dwindled to almost nothing.

She really should put more thought into moving the rest of the coven from Elloree here to Bardot so that the Gems would still be unified no matter which course of study they chose. At her urging, Diamond already relocated here to watch over the Gems enrolled at the Academy.

A move would also allow her to be closer to Beck, Kiernan, Kenley, and, of course, Maximus. They needed her. And, if she was honest with herself, she needed them as well. They were her family now.

Despite all of the reasons for moving to Bardot, one urged her more than all of the others. Every sorcerous sense in her body warned her that danger was near, that an ominous threat hovered over those she loved most. Whatever evil was on the horizon, she wanted to be in a position to protect her family and she could not do that from Elloree.

Out of habit, she reached behind her head and brought forward the thick, gray plait of her hair. Whenever she was troubled, it helped calm her nerves to stroke her braid—the sign of her sisterhood.

Lost in her thoughts, she did not hear the soft footsteps until they were upon her and was startled by a vicious, sharp impact to her back. “What..?”

A strong arm whipped out and gripped her around the throat. “King Maximus will not need your assistance in Nysa after all, High Priestess,” a sinister voice whispered in her ear.

Instinctively, she twisted her body to get a look at her assailant.

“You!”

Gemini snarled, but the spell she was ready to cast fell flat on her tongue and no sound issued. Instead, a paralyzing heaviness flowed through her body that began in her lower back and then traveled up to her chest and then to her head.

No longer able to stand on her own two feet, she slid down the wall beneath the window in Beck’s office and was dead before her body hit the floor.

The dungeons of the royal palace, located two stories below the ground, were dank and musty and the stench of urine permeated the air. The only sounds in the oppressive silence were the skittering of tiny feet in and out of the cell and the mournful sob of one of the other prisoners.

Suddenly feeling claustrophobic, Davad Etin shot up out of his cot and banged on the cell door. “Guards! Where is my meal? I requested food hours ago!”

There was no answer from the guards, only the contemptuous laughs from his neighbors.

Idiots.

He really was not even remotely hungry, but felt like he needed to do something or he would go crazy. He returned to his cot and sat with his head in his hands. It was still unconceivable to him that his own flesh and blood—his own brother—was responsible for derailing his plans. He had not even been aware that Kenith had been anywhere near his surreptitious conversations. He could hardly imagine that his brother betrayed him out of a singular concern for the people of Iserlohn, but then again maybe he did. He always did take after their mother with that soft heart of his. Regardless, after years of suffering under the rule of Maximus Everard, Davad was ready to make his move, and he would not be thwarted by his little brother or this cell. The Court was split and his army was at that very moment on the march toward Nysa.

He heard the door to the guardroom one story above clang open and footsteps descended the short set of steps to the cells.

He stood imperiously. “About time…”

But, it was not the guards. It was Lord Abram Winslow, and he was alone.

The ancient and angry face stared at him through the bars of the cell. “How did you let this happen, Davad? You assured me that matters were well in hand.”

Davad smiled disarmingly. “Minor setback, Abram. I assure you…”

“Minor setback! You are accused of treason against the Crown!”

Davad glowered at him. “I am well aware of the charge, Abram. The important discussion point is what you are going to do to get me out of here!”

The old man shook his head. “There is nothing I can do, Davad. There are guards and Sabers everywhere.”

“You must.”

“It is impossible.”

“Only impossible if you care nothing for the life of your grandson, Abram.”

The Lord’s lined face turned so red that Davad thought he was going to fall dead onto the stone floor.

“Don’t worry,” Davad said hastily, “he is unharmed. As promised, the boy will be returned to you as soon as the crown is mine.”

Abram’s head hung between his shoulder blades. “Don’t hurt him, Davad. I have done everything you have asked these past months. For Highworld’s sake, please don’t hurt him.”

Davad cocked his head. “Well, now, his well-being is entirely in your hands now, isn’t it, Abram?”

“I will see what I can do,” he said in a resigned whisper. “It cannot be accomplished without bloodshed.”

Davad smiled. “Naturally. Now, run along. Commander Hugo Bassus and my army will be here in two weeks. I fully expect to be out of this dungeon by then.”

The Lord gave him a long withering look and then turned on his heel and walked away. Davad went back to his cot, feeling more confident. Abram would get him out of here soon, he was sure of it. He seemed to be very fond of that grandson of his. In the meantime, there was nothing else for it but to be patient.

The guardroom door opened a second time and another set of footsteps moved down the stairs and approached. A very large guard stopped in front of his cell door.

Surprised gasps came from the other prisoners and furious whispering filled the air.

“What is it?” Davad demanded.

The guard was silent as he inserted a key into the door of his cell.

“Am I to be freed then? Already?” Davad stood and dusted off his jacket, anxious to leave the foul-smelling cell.

“Turn around,” the guard commanded with a leer.

The confusion must have showed on his face because the guard reached out and grasped a fistful of his jacket at the shoulder to spin him around.

“Put your hands against the wall.”

“What is this? Let go of me this instant!” He tried to turn, but the man, easily twice his size, leaned his full weight into his back.

The mutterings of the prisoners were getting louder.

When the guard reached around and unfastened Davad’s trousers, yanking them to his knees, the cold realization hit him.

“Stop! Guards!”

The guard’s fist lashed out and struck him in the side of the head. “Be quiet.”

The force was so powerful that it scrambled his senses and he almost fell to the ground. “The King would never approve of this,” he said groggily. “You will be executed when he finds out.”

The guard laughed. “The King will not find out, my Lord. I do not expect that you will ever tell anyone about this.”

When the assault began, something inside of Davad’s mind snapped. He tried to formulate a more effective protest, but he could not string the words together to do so. With the grunts of the guard filling his ear, it was not only his mind that was lost in that moment—it was also a piece of his soul.

C
HAPTER
4

A Pregnant Pause