Authors: Linda Winstead Jones
Tags: #Fantasy, #Fiction, #Paranormal, #Romance, #Shapeshifters
"They are not monsters," she said, but her voice sounded less than certain.
"Do you remember how the creature we found by the stream fought for his soul?"
"Yes," she whispered.
"I plan to fight for mine, and I want you to fight now, too. Can you do that, Keelia? Can you fight?"
Her lips parted as if to form an answer, but no words came out. The other mutants were busy watching their master and his transformation, awed and reverent as the man who had created and led them became one of them. Druson mumbled incoherently and twitched. Soon he would shift himself into the familiar form of mountain cat. Perhaps when that happened, he could escape. Someone should escape this nightmarish horror.
"I love you," Joryn said again, but this time he was too far gone and the words made no sense. So he spoke to her with his mind, something he had fought against for the entire time he'd known her. He had never wanted to be this close to anyone, and now that closeness was all he had left that was good and right.
I love you. Fight, Keelia, Fight!
Joryn felt his soul slipping away. No, not slipping, but being grabbed and pulled. The demon was trying to yank his soul from him. Such an outrage was the most unnatural of atrocities. He grit his teeth and fought.
It would be so easy to just let his soul go, but like the creature by the stream, Joryn wrestled to keep it within him. The battle was painful, as if the soul considered this twisted body
to
no longer be its home.
The wizard at the center of the stone circle stopped writhing and stood tall. His face was grotesquely caught between mountain cat and man, and his hands were claws. His black shirt had been torn, but still hung on a torso that was part skin and part fur.
Maccus spoke, his words muddy but clear enough. "Finish it, love. Bathe yourself in your lover's blood so that we can be wed and create our special daughter."
The tip of the blade in Keelia's control barely cut into Joryn's skin.
Fight.
It was a simple-enough word, and Keelia had done her fair share of fighting in her lifetime—most specifically in recent weeks. So why was it so hard to fight now?
Her eyes were drawn down to the ring on her finger; the ring Maccus had placed there. The green stone swirled and danced in a way a rock should not. Her glance shifted to Maccus; he was grotesque, but a part of her thought him handsome and powerful and hers. A part of her could not wait to be his bride.
It isn't real, Keelia. He's bewitched you somehow. Fight, please, My Beautiful and Brave Majesty.
The graying prisoner changed into a mountain cat, but not before shouting once in that gruff voice that came between man and cat, "You don't need your hands!" The large, powerful cat—his fur mottled black and gray— quickly fought off its bonds and ran, escaping while Maccus's servants had their attention on the Queen and her task.
Her task was to kill her lover and wear his blood to her wedding.
Fight.
A drop of Joryn's blood sprang onto the end of the blade she wielded. She could feel him fighting, not for his life but for his very soul.
"Finish it, love," Maccus said, his words rough and ill-defined but crisper than Eneo's had ever been. "This is one task I cannot take on for you. This duty is yours, and yours alone. Do as I command, love, and complete freedom will follow."
Freedom from what? Thought, right, love, judgment ...
"My will is yours," Maccus whispered. "Kill him, adorn your face and arms with his blood, and then come to me."
The silver bracelet on Keelia's wrist warmed and tingled. It reminded her of who she'd been before coming to this place; it reminded her of who she'd been before another's will had become her own. It reminded her that Joryn was right. She'd been bewitched.
Feeling as if she were fighting against gravity and time itself, Keelia yanked her hand down and away, releasing the dagger so that it fell to the ground. She dropped to her haunches and swung her hand fiercely at the nearest rock, slamming the wrongly alive stone of her ring against the rock with such force that it shattered and died.
Instantly, she was free of the wizard's enchantment, and he knew it. He cursed and reached for her with deformed paws, but she was able to roil out of his reach. Others moved in to assist their wizard master. There were so many of them! Maccus and his soldiers outnumbered her, and Joryn was still tied to a stake.
Was he? Did the Joryn she loved still exist within that twisted body? Yes, she knew he did. She felt his struggle. She had promised to take his life if this happened, but she couldn't even think of that now, not while it was possible that she could save him.
And she could save him as long as he continued to fight.
Maccus and his monsters came near, but they did not move forward to harm her. They still needed her, arid they still had hope that she could be used as they intended. Used to bear a monster. Used to rule these mountains at the side of an evil, twisted wizard.
"All your magic is caught in the things you possess," she said, rising slowly to her feet. "All your bewitchment is in stone and metal, in silver and pretty gems." She ripped the damaged ring from her hand and threMf it to the ground. "Do you have any talents of your own? Any talents that reside inside you? No, you need spells and talismans and objects to hold the temporary magic you create. None of it is yours to own. You're a vessel for a demon and nothing more."
In anger Maccus lashed out at her, but she moved quickly and his claws missed her. He quickly contained his rage and drew away.
"We could have such power, you and I and our child" he said. His lips were malformed, but she understood him well enough. The medallion he always wore around his neck hung against a furry portion of his chest, and she studied it for a moment In her time here he had never taken it off. It was precious to him. That was where his magic rested, she realized. Now that her mind was clear once again, she knew many things.
She glanced at Joryn, at the creature who had once been Joryn. She knew it was him thanks to the streak of red fur that started at one ear and traveled back. And she knew it by the flame in his eyes.
Step back,
he ordered, and she knew instantly what he planned to do.
Not yet.
The fire in his eyes grew brighter.
Now!
Keelia rushed toward Maccus, not away. She reached out, knowing she had one chance, and no more. Needing an infusion of strength, her hand changed in an instant, and an appendage that was part human and part wolf grabbed for the medallion Maccus wore and ripped it from his neck.
He howled as she dropped to the ground and rolled away with the medallion clasped in her hand. She felt me small stone that was built into the backside of the metal, and she knew this was the stone she had come here to claim. Without ever looking at it, she turned the medallion about and swung her arm mightily. She smashed the cursed medallion, stone side out, into one of the rocks that had been used to form her wedding site.
Maccus shrieked, but the inhuman sound changed before it was done. He and his soldiers returned to their human forms, as Caradon all over the world were now changing. Though Keelia's gifts remained less than they had once been, she felt the shift to the pit of her soul. It was momentous. Painful and startling and unexpected.
Something other than the creatures howled in outrage. The demon who'd orchestrated the design of the atrocities, the evil thing which had planned her marriage to a monster, felt pain as well. It was weakened and startled and defeated. Not permanently, perhaps, but this was a battle it had lost.
Keelia realized with sadness that returning the creatures to their Caradon selves did not return their souls. Those who had not fought to hang on to their souls, as Joryn had, would remain monsters of another kind, but monsters without the strength of mutated bodies and the guidance of the Isen Demon.
An angry wizard and his men rushed toward Keelia, but she was not afraid. This was not her time to die; she knew it with all her heart.
Down!
She obeyed Joryn's silent command and dipped down, covering her head with her arms and making herself small. He didn't have much time. Some of the enemy soldiers were already slipping into their feline forms, and Joryn would soon follow. There was a full moon overhead after all, and he would not have much of a window between his short time as a mutant and his transformation to his wildest form. As a cat, he had no gift of fire. As a cat, he could not save them.
But the time he had before the change was enough. Without using his hands, he called upon a wild and furious fire that burst into Maccus and his soldiers, instantly consuming them in flame. They screamed as desperately as they had when the curse had been ended, trying to escape the inescapable for a moment or two. Then all was silent as they fell dead, one after another dropping to the ground.
Keelia grabbed the dagger she'd thrown aside, the dagger with which she'd drawn her mate's blood, and she began to cut Joryn's bonds. Before she was finished, he began to shift. All was silent as he transformed into a yellow mountain cat with a streak of red down one side.
With her heart in her throat, Keelia dropped to the ground and wrapped her arms around the mountain cat's neck. She had almost killed him. She had held a knife to his heart and drawn blood. She had betrayed him, giving away his location to Maccus, telling the monsters how to restrain him... allowing him to be brought to this cursed place for sacrifice. He had every right to kill her, here and now. If he felt that was right, she would not fight back.
But he did not attack. He allowed her to rest her head on his neck and hold on tight.
"I never thought I'd willingly hug any kind of a cat, much less a Caradon," she said, trying to make her voice sound lighthearted and hide the tears that dampened her face. She could still feel a connection with Joryn, but it had changed, as he had. His thoughts now were primal and uncomplicated.
Joryn was not entirely dark to her. She knew that, man or cat, he would not hurt her. He would not leave her.
As the moon moved across the sky, Keelia gave in to the call of the wolf and allowed herself to change. Wolf and cat ambled away from the smoldering bodies of Maccus and his soldiers, to escape the horrific scene and rest farther down me mountain.