Before she could give the priest’s gesture a thought, her daughter cried out with a lusty wail as the midwife passed her into Alyria’s waiting arms. She nestled the babe into her breasts as the child’s little fists waved frantically. When her lips attached to a nipple, the hands opened and her fingers spread wide.
Carlyle peered at her child, examining the little hands. Abruptly, he stepped back and drew the others with him. She heard murmuring and a stiff silence before they broke away and returned to her bedside.
“Alyria, there are auspicious signs surrounding the birth of this child,” Carlyle said.
She didn’t trust them. She’d seen Menin cringe and make the sign. “Such as?”
“In her right hand is the sign of Orion. She’s blessed by the gods. Because of this, we—” He waved to include the two others. “We wish to take a special interest in her. Know we’ll see she receives all she needs. What will you name her?”
Her daughter was a beautiful child, with pale skin and hair, and her eyes were a striking blue. “I shall call her Aija, for happy.”
“Aija,” he repeated softly. “She will be happy, a brave ruler, energetic, courageous, determined.”
With these words, he stroked the silvery soft down on the top of her daughter’s head. Instantly, the babe’s eyes opened and looked straight at him. Instead of reacting with joy, he pulled his hand away and went rigid. His eyes bugged with sudden alarm.
Mystified, Alyria held her breath. What came next was the last thing she expected; her daughter released the nipple and smiled at the priest. “I think she likes you,” she offered hesitantly.
He blinked and smoothly shifted from fear to pretending charm. “I certainly hope so.”
An insincere concoction of a smile gripped his lips, and his black eyes belied his words, leaving her with a chill slipping down her back.
CHAPTER TWO
AIJA’S FIFTH BIRTHDAY
In the green space outside the Temple of Initiates, Alyria called, “Aija, I have something special for your birthday. Where are you?”
“I’m here beside you, Mama.”
A childish laugh came from Alyria’s left and she grabbed for the voice, even though she couldn’t see the child. Her arms wrapped around warmth, and her daughter materialized, laughing.
“How do you do that, Aija? All the other initiates require a lengthy incantation before cloaking.”
Aija glanced at her soft leather slippers, a gift from her uncles. “It’s true. Even my uncles have to do several gestures to get cloaked. But I figured out a master spell so all I have to do is flick a finger to my thumb and I’m cloaked.”
She raised her gaze with an impish smile and a ready giggle on the tip of her tongue. “Don't tell them; they don't know I can do this.” With a crook of her finger, she motioned for Alyria to bend down. “Sometimes I cloak myself and follow them around.”
Alyria mockingly gasped as though her daughter had committed the greatest crime. “No!” She reached out and grabbed Aija, tickling her until she squealed. With a heart filled with love and fear, she gazed at her very special child. She was tall for her age, and her hair had darkened from silver to ivory and hung to her waist in a braid, but her eyes remained a pale ice blue.
At only five years old, her awareness of her surroundings eclipsed that of most adults. Just as Carlyle had predicted on the night of her birth, she displayed a fierce determination and courage. But her daughter’s proficiency both thrilled and frightened Alyria, especially since her power already surpassed her uncles.
I wouldn’t want to be in her crosshairs.
“Aija, sweetheart, are you all right with all this ... ability?”
Her daughter pulled a solemn face, lips puckered. “I don't want people to be afraid of me. I’d never hurt anyone.”
“Of course not,” Alyria rushed to answer. She rubbed her daughter’s arms, chasing away such thoughts. “You’re the kindest being I’ve ever met, you know that? You have only love for everyone. If anyone else had your power, I’d be afraid.”
The soft words carried weight and truth. Aija nodded in confirmation. “That’s what I’ve always thought. With anyone else it might be scary.” She glanced away briefly, as though considering the list of those people her astute perceptions considered scary.
“What other master spells have you done?”
Aija’s expression comically turned far too serious for a five-year-old. She glanced side to side, even though there wasn’t a soul in sight. “All of them, Mama.” She drew her shoulders up with a silent squeal, a grin of pride piercing her hesitant yet guilty eyebrows.
Alyria’s chin dropped with a mixture of amazement and dread. “What else can you do?” Instantly, her daughter’s voice chirped in her head.
I can link mind to mind.
I love you, sweetheart. But you must keep these abilities to yourself. You understand that, don't you?
Yes. I know, Mama.
What else?
Aija glanced at a large potted tree and barely lifted her chin. The heavy piece scooted sideways.
Alyria’s eyes grew large. “What else?”
“This one’s my favorite.” Aija snapped her little fingers.
The next thing Alyria knew, her daughter laughed from the far side of the green space.
What did you do?
Aija came running back and arrived giggly and breathless, motioning for her to bend down. Alyria went to her knees so Aija could whisper in her ear.
“I can stop time, Mama. It’s the most fun of all.” She paused with finger on chin as though pondering another list, the one she could do. “Oh, and I can move the clouds around and make rain.” She peered at the clear blue sky. “Well, maybe not today. I’m still playing with that.”
Alyria’s heart quickened. With this kind of power at the fingertips of a five-year-old, they all walked a narrow path. But she knew the goodness in her daughter’s heart. She also knew the priests feared her and her power, giving Alyria rise to suspect their motives and intentions all these years.
But they always came with gifts of fine fabrics, shoes like the soft leather slippers Aija wore, and small bracelets and jewelry appropriate for a child. Aija loved her uncles, and they loved her.
I hope so, for if they play her foul ...
Thinking of the remaining birthday gift, Alyria brightened, knowing the joy it would bring. “Ready for one more surprise?” She ran to a bush and drew out a wrapped package.
“Another birthday present?” Aija jumped up and down, landing lightly on her dance trained legs. “What is it?”
This particular gift Alyria had allowed only because she knew her daughter’s powers and had faith she would come to no harm. “Something special from your uncles.” She handed the small object to her daughter.
Aija took it and sniffed. “Smells like dirt.” She gazed up with expectant eyes.
Alyria shrugged as if equally mystified.
The wrapping paper came off with a flurry of excitement, only to be followed by slumped shoulders. “A carrot? What do I want a carrot for?”
“That’s a good question. Let’s see if there’s an expert on carrots somewhere close.” She took her daughter’s hand and they walked the length of the green space to a cluster of trees. In the shade, a chestnut pony with a white mane and tail was tethered to a tree. “Here’s a likely expert. See if he wants the carrot.”
Aija’s eyes grew large and darkened with utter delight. “A pony? For me?”
She nodded. “From your uncles. You must thank them.”
The pony took the carrot while Aija nuzzled her forehead against the creature’s broad, flat cheek. An energy of joy, of light and of love radiated out from her in waves. The absolute force and sweetness of it brought tears to Alyria’s eyes.
They have certainly bought her love with this.
When the carrot disappeared, Aija untied the pony and hopped up on its back with grace and strength. Her face beamed with the happiness Alyria had
imagined the night she was born and named.
Happiness, as decreed by the priests.
“May I go, Mama?”
Alyria held the rope. Her breath caught in her chest as she imagined her daughter slipping off and being trampled underfoot. But Aija wasn’t a normal child, and Alyria laughed at her silliness. “Can you mind link with him?”
Aija nodded. “His name is Pretty Boy. I love him, Mama.”
Alyria’s momentary fears evaporated. A child that could teleport, stop time, and mind link to ask a beast its name had nothing to fear. She released the rope. “Be sure and tell your uncles thank you.”
As Aija rode off, Alyria prayed the pony would be enough. Prayed the goodness in Aija’s heart would be enough. Prayed they’d never have to find out what all the girl could do.
AIJA’S TENTH BIRTHDAY
In the arena, Aija rode bareback on a black colt, it’s mane trailing well below its neck and its flowing tail reaching the ground. It pranced with high, perfect steps, seeming to teeter on just two feet at a time
Alyria admired the strength and grace of her daughter, now an accomplished master dancer and gymnastic horseback rider. She excelled with both keyed and string instruments making everyone refuse to compete with her. But her gracious and compassionate nature also made her classmates flock to her. The calm head and heart of a leader was maturing with shocking beauty every day.
Which always brought Alyria back to the night of Aija’s birth and the priest who’d crossed himself in the ancient gesture against evil. When she gazed at her daughter, the mystery of that moment always arose.
She’s no surprise to them. They knew she’d be this ...
Different. Beautiful. Powerful.
What else do they know?
The ecstatic joy on Aija’s face announced more than words ever could. She called out, “Zephyr. I’m going to name him Zephyr. Riding him is like riding the west wind. Isn’t he gorgeous?”
Her eyes glowed, her hair trailed behind her, much like Zephyr’s tail. She wore a sleeveless short shift, exposing her muscular limbs and graceful moves as she urged the colt into a soft gallop.
At a sound behind her, Alyria glanced over her shoulder; Carlyle stepped up beside her. She forced herself not to react and remembered how much the uncles had done for Aija. Their extravagant gifts like Zephyr had brought Aija joy and a quality of life fit for a princess. And as to be expected, such largesse induced a great deal of love for them. Alyria couldn’t help but wonder what they planned to do with all that love.
Knowing they couldn’t be trusted, she drew on her false smile of appreciation and exclaimed, “You’ve put her on top of the moon.” She grabbed his hand. “Thank you for this, Carlyle. Her joy is a beautiful thing to see, isn’t it?”
He gazed at Aija cavorting with her new horse, yet his eyes held a blankness, as if he viewed something entirely different. She twitched with revulsion and removed her hand from his, hoping to never know what they were up to.
Aija rode towards them and in a heart stopping move, she jumped from her horse, causing Alyria’s breath to hitch in her chest.
But her daughter landed perfectly.
She ran to Carlyle and wrapped her arms around him, face pressed into his robes. “Oh, thank you. Thank you, Uncle Carlyle. Zephyr is perfect.” She reached up on tip-toes and kissed him on the cheek.
He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close, stroking her head. Oddly, Alyria believed the priest held true affection for her daughter, but the gesture took her back to the night of Aija’s birth. She never forgot. And as Aija grew stronger and more powerful, a bad feeling developed, haunting Alyria.
Carlyle asked, “How are your lessons coming?”
Aija stepped off and held out her hand; a flame burst in her palm. “This one is fun,” she said with a giggle. “The flame tickles.”
“Good girl,” he exclaimed. “Always ahead of your classmates, I see.”
“I try, Uncle. I try,” Aija responded.
Aija’s face was as innocent as the sky, and Alyria mentally grinned at the subterfuge, knowing her daughter’s capabilities far exceeded not only her classmates, but the priests. And as far as she knew, they had no clue.
Or do they?
THAT SAME DAY, ORION’S Fifteenth Birthday
In darkness relieved by one candle, Orion sat at his father’s bedside. As Meta’s pained breaths labored into the night, Orion wished he could take his father’s suffering upon himself. But he was helpless to do anything; the night stretched before him, a death watch. Grief filled his heart and he prayed he would make it through the night, even though he knew his father wouldn’t.
Meta stirred and Orion helped him to sit and brought a cup of water to his parched lips. He greedily drank; when he finished, he motioned Orion to come closer.
“Forget what the shaman said,” Meta whispered. “Defy the curse. Defy the gods, if need be. You’re a good son.”
A flood of tears filled Orion’s eyes and Meta’s image blurred. His gruff, loving father had never once mentioned the words spoken on that night. Orion had heard the story from his mother, but Meta disowned the shaman’s curse.
“Take care of your mother,” his father added. Even as his voice grew softer, weaker, and the gasps for breath stretched farther apart, he peered at Orion until he answered.
Tears overflowed and freely ran down Orion’s face as he clutched his father’s hand. “I will. I promise.”
Hearing that, Meta took his final breath.
Orion remained holding his father’s hand until he heard a rush of movement behind him. Recognizing his mother’s step, he turned into her arms.
“I came as soon as I could,” she cried. She fell to her knees beside the bed and lay her head upon Meta’s still chest, sobbing. After a while, her tears slowed and she sat up, wiping her face.
Orion dipped the cloth in the bowl of water and dabbed at her swollen eyes. “It’s going to be all right, Mother. I’ll take care of you.” He’d never called her Mother before, only Mama, like a child. But he was the man now, and his mother’s care was his responsibility.
She wiped her nose. “Did he say anything?”
Forget what the shaman said. Defy the curse. Defy the gods, if need be. You’re a good son.
Following his father’s commands, he took the first step in defying the curse. “He said, ‘Take care of your mother and tell her how much I love her.’”
With this lie, he made it through the night and following days.
A flurry of activity kept Orion’s mind off his grief as they packed their belongings. He loaded the last cage of his raptors, a falcon, a hawk, an eagle, and an owl onto the wagon. “It’s only for a few days girls. And I promise unlimited hunting when we get to Atlantis.”
After draping the cages, he pulled on the falconer’s leather glove that covered his Orion mark. While he heeded his father’s words about the curse, he still held onto old ways. The leather glove provided convenient cover as a tool of his trade.
With all the straps and ties tightened and the harnesses and wheels checked, he and his mother climbed into the seat and set their sights on Atlantis. He glanced at her. Tears still streaked her cheeks, and he knew know hard this was for her. “I can get a job in the city’s hunting fields. The girls and I fly and hunt together, and with the mind link we’re the best predators around.”
She sniffed and smiled. He nudged her with his shoulder. “And you make the best bread of anyone, so maybe you can become a baker.”
A quick nod and she wiped her eyes. “We’ll be fine, won’t we?” she asked with a tentative smile.
He nodded, scraping up encouragement. For the first time in many days, he dared to believe her.
And I will make my own destiny.
CHAPTER THREE
Seven Years Later
Orion scanned the ground from high in the sky, hunting as a raven with his girls; he flew as a scout and gave them directions with the mind link. Game was plentif
ul and life was good, if a little solitary.
“Hawk, there’s a cluster of rabbits in the trees to your inside.”
With his keen eyesight, he saw in the distance as Hawk dove for the ground, assuring Orion that the rabbits would be added to their kill totals. Just as he bragged to those clients who wished to purchase his fresh meat, his girls were the best team in the field.
If only my clients knew why.
He kept his shifter status a secret, leveraging his ability to an advantage over the other hunters. Seeing the sun dipping toward the horizon, he called out, Time to come in. Meet you there.
They chose a new site to stash their kills each day as they ranged across the valley. By the time they returned to the city, they’d be first in line at the evening market.
He soared and banked, still eyeing the ground, and spotted a horse running across the distant grassy plain with a girl on its back. The horse went incredibly fast and seemed not to touch the ground while the girl rode effortlessly, flinging her arms into the air to ride without a handhold.
Never had he seen such grace and agility. It was as though she joined as one with the animal. He followed her and the racing horse as they turned toward the city. She disappeared into the stables behind the Temple of Life, and he lost sight of her.
He banked back to the meeting place where the girls were waiting and calling for him. I hear you. I’m on my way.
On the ground, he shifted and pulled on a shirt and leggings, then collected his hobbled horse. As he loaded their take for the day into the wagon, he appreciated the exceptionally heavy bags. The girls jumped into their cages, excited for their dinner.
Whatever doesn’t sell is yours. Just wait a little longer.
He turned the wagon toward the city, thinking about the girl on the horse.
THE UNCLES GATHERED each day on the top floor of their Temple of Light in the late afternoon because that was when Aija returned from her ride on Zephyr.
“She grows more exceptional with each passing year,” Protus said to Carlyle.
Menin shuffled his feet, his discomfort with the topic palpable. “We could have stopped this. One simple potion.” He waved his hand as though sweeping her life away. “But now. Now she’s a force to be reckoned with.” He glanced away, lips tight and chin raised in false bravado bordering on abject fear. “And the three of us aren’t enough.”
Bound to Change: A Limited Edition Spring Shifter Romance Collection Page 93
