Ruby Morgan Box Set: Books 6-10

by LJ Rivers

  Kit jumped off, leaving the blinded soldier to his suffering.

  Three more soldiers, all clad in what was becoming my favourite colour, moved into the brightly lit circle, and threw themselves into the brawl. Rowan was still slashing his sword at the giant black jaguar, which in turn was trying to fend off both my brother’s blade and the white wolf that clung to its back. The jaguar had fought hard, but was losing energy fast. Finally, it toppled to its side, and Rowan used the opportunity to sink his sword into its exposed throat.

  Two men came at me from either side, both with the flaming staff sigil on their chests. I threw fireballs at them, but they deflected my magic with their sparkling spears. They closed in on me, only ten yards now.

  “I’m here,” Brendan said on my right. He attacked one of the soldiers, who used his spear to parry Brendan’s sword.

  I turned to face the other soldier, and produced a force field, not sure if I should throw it around myself or the approaching foe.

  A gust of wind blew past me on my left as more shadows moved quickly towards the soldier. Before Auberon’s disciple could react, the curved blade of a dagger protruded from his throat. Shock painted his features as he grasped for the dagger’s hilt. He tried to speak, but only an incoherent babble ensued as rivers of crimson seeped from his mouth and throat. Blue sparks flashed from the tip of his spear, making the blood appear purple.

  As the soldier fell dead to the ground, Lord Pullhelli emerged from the shadows. He bent down, pulled the dagger from the Sorcerer’s neck and wiped it clean on the soldier’s black robe. I wasn’t sure Pullhelli had meant to smear blood on Auberon’s insignia, but wouldn’t put it past him.

  “I beg Your Majesty’s pardon,” the old prime winked, “but it’s been a while since I could move particularly fast inside the darkness.”

  “Better late than never,” I replied.

  “Better late than never,” he mused. “I like that.”

  The screaming and the clanking of various weapons had faded into the night, and as I looked around, it seemed all Auberon’s soldiers were either dead or rendered unable to keep going.

  “Are you all right?” Brendan asked. He was leaning on his sword, heaving for air.

  “Considering,” I said. Determined, I climbed onto a slab of stone. “Is anyone hurt?”

  “Over here, My Queen,” a voice croaked.

  “I’ll help him.” My grandfather waved and jogged in the direction of the voice.

  “Did we lose anyone?” I shouted.

  My grandfather stood next to a body, but he didn’t seem to be using his healing magic. The soldier was already dead. A tall, heavily built cat stood next to Llewellyn. The last time I’d seen Bailey, he was clinging to the Crimson cloak of Renwar, an eagle Shifter who had flown my grandfather and the cat to Crochan Island. Like Kit, Bailey had grown significantly and taken on a more lynx-like appearance.

  He was a Faeguard. He had likely connected with my grandmother, Lili Helene, many years ago. Now, he had turned into the magical version of himself, and I reckoned he had redirected his attention to Lili’s husband, Llewellyn.

  Rowan stepped out from the darkness on the other side of the dome of orange light. He was carrying a Juniper in his arms. I jumped down and ran over, or staggered, as I was beginning to realise how exhausted I was. Rowan stumbled and nearly fell, but held his balance as he slowly got on his knees and lay the injured soldier gently on the sand.

  I didn’t hesitate and placed my hands on his chest, calling on my healing magic. It responded, but not in its usual manner. There wasn’t much energy left in my magical core, and I feared I wouldn’t be able to save the soldier.

  No, please!

  It was as if I were trying to crawl inside myself to help the magic get out. Slowly, like molasses being drained through a sieve, it began spreading on the soldier’s chest. I started swaying, but I couldn’t let my hands off him. After what felt like forever, he finally opened his eyes and gasped, his body jerking hard under my hands.

  “Easy, soldier,” I whispered, unsure if any sound could escape me. “You’re safe now.”

  “A—are you—my queen?”

  “That’s the general opinion, at least.” I smiled and retracted my magic, falling back on my heels.

  Tears flowed from the soldier’s eyes. “I owe you my life.”

  “You have already paid your debt by fighting for your people.” My smile faded. “I might need your sword again, however.”

  “At your service, Your Majesty. Name the place and time, and I will surely be there.”

  “I will. What’s your name, soldier?”

  “Sovian. Sovian of Stinger’s Bay. It’s not a large village, but it’s the most beautiful place in all of Avalon.”

  “I hope to visit it someday, Sovian.” I looked around, finding Brendan’s eyes. “Help him up, would you?”

  Brendan stepped forward and pulled the soldier back on his feet. Behind them, Llewellyn and another Juniper came strolling over the pebbled beach, Bailey scurrying this way and that between the old Fae’s legs. I was actually impressed, recalling how he had hardly moved at all back on my grandparents’ farm in Wales, and seeing as he still looked like he ate three times his body weight a day.

  “Someone’s coming,” Rowan warned. “Be ready!” He had retrieved his bow, and at least a handful of arrows were back in his quiver. He quickly nocked one of them and aimed it at the path we had arrived on earlier.

  Brendan drew his sword and positioned himself next to my brother. Soon, all the other soldiers—or sentries of Crochan Island, as they were—pointed their weapons in the same direction.

  “Stand down,” I ordered. I sent three orbs of fire to the ridge, illuminating the trio that slowly descended the path. “These are friends.”

  Halwyn and his son trotted in front, with my angel, Charlie, keeping up the rear.

  Charlie ran towards my brother and jumped into his arms. “Thank the Holy Virgin you’re OK!”

  “I see the party is over,” Halwyn remarked stoically. “We’re just in time for the clean-up.”

  Pullhelli cleared his throat. “We should pay our foes the respect of burning their corpses, to keep them from being feasted upon by the wildlife.”

  I would have helped, using my telekinesis powers to move the bodies into the pile, but I didn’t have anything left. Instead, I sat on a rock, telling Charlie about the battle, while Brendan and the other soldiers took care of the heavy lifting. When all the bodies of both our enemies and our fallen were placed in a pile, Pullhelli set them ablaze with a few strategically directed fireballs.

  The wind was still blowing toward the sea, carrying the grey smoke out over the pitch-black waves. I couldn’t help but think that soon there might be hundreds, maybe thousands more piles like this, clouding the already dark Avalonian skies.

  I had made my choice, and could only hope the inevitable deaths were justified by the outcome of my war against my father.

  Chapter Ten

  Alun leaned back, placing one hand on his belly and holding the other up at Halwyn. “I literally cannot fit another bite inside my body. I swear, I must have put on a stone and a half since I came here.”

  Halwyn chuckled and poked the young man in his belly. “Nonsense. There’s still room up on this side.”

  Alun gagged and leaned over to the side, feigning being sick. In the far corner of the living room, Kit and Bailey lifted their heads in perfect sync, only to drop back to sleep when nothing interesting caught their eye.

  “Anyone else up for seconds?” Halwyn asked and tilted the bowl of rabbit stew, showing there was still enough to feed a regiment.

  Rowan, Charlie, and even Jen shook their heads. My great-uncle, however, was still working on his current portion.

  “I think you’ll find, Cropkeeper,” I said, “that we’re on thirds and fourths already. Thank you so much for yet another astonishing meal.” I inclined my head at his son. “And to you, Wadyan.”

&nbs
p; The young Goblin had just come out of the small door to Halwyn’s somewhat mystical and magical storage corridor, carrying yet another two large clay bottles. He placed one on the floor next to his chair, and proceeded around the long table, filling cups with ale, regardless of whether they were empty or not.

  I raised my cup as soon as Wadyan had topped it up and held it in the air. “Thank you, all of you, for your remarkable efforts today. Here’s to you!” I started to rise when Taryn interrupted me.

  “My Queen, if I may?”

  “Go ahead,” I said and sat down again.

  My Master of War motioned with his cup at the people around the table. “I have loved only three women in my lifetime. The first was my ma, who taught me the value of respect, justice, and loyalty. The second was my Queen, Morgana, who showed me that even royalty can live by the same virtues as a commoner from Wenhaven. The third was Lady Evelyne, who moved into my heart many years ago, and who will live there until time is no more. She taught me that love is the one thing in life that grows the more you give of it.”

  Brendan gripped my hand under the table, and Charlie, who sat on my other side, sniffled quietly.

  Taryn finished the movement of his cup, circling back to point it at me.

  “Now, I have added a fourth woman to the list. She has shown me—all of us—that she deserves her place on the Avalonian throne, and by that I don’t mean because of the blood that runs in her veins. It is because of how she values respect, justice, and loyalty. I proudly drink in honour of Ruby of Morgana, Avalon’s rightful queen!”

  “To Ruby!” Pullhelli declared.

  “To Ruby!” all the other diners shouted in unison.

  I stared at Taryn, who smiled back at me. “Thank you,” I mouthed, and took a swig of my ale.

  Halwyn went over to the array of hourglasses above the stove. “Twentieth awr coming up,” he said, and turned three of them over.

  I had given up on understanding the pattern of his hourglasses, and how to tell the time from looking at them, but Halwyn’s announcement meant it had been four hours since we returned to his farm. I had ordered the sentries to gather all the other Goblin families on the Island and have them meet me by nine in the evening, or the twenty-first hour.

  The Goblin tapped a fingernail on one of the hourglasses. “The Enchantium pot is ready.”

  I had forgotten all about it in the turmoil on the beach. “It is? Where?”

  He gestured at the stove. “It’s what I could do with the time at hand.”

  A large pot, dark green and blue, stood on the cast iron top. It had no handles, only two holes near the top on each side, with a metal bar running through them. I moved closer and looked inside. The pot was half full, and all kinds of leaves and herbs floated on top of the golden-brown liquid.

  “All it needs is an awr or so with a Sorcerer’s fire underneath,” he said.

  “Then the three of us with that particular power will have to switch from time to time.”

  The old Sorcerer joined us by the stove. “We should be fine with ten-minute intervals, I’d say, without emptying our magical resources.”

  Halwyn opened the latch below the stove top. “Who goes first, then?”

  I pulled a chair from the table and sat by the small opening, carefully inserting my hand. When I figured it was directly underneath the Enchantium pot, I lit a flame in my palm.

  “This is exciting!” Charlie squealed.

  “We’ll see,” I replied, trying to keep my cool. Inside, I was literally burning, both from my magical furnace and from anticipation. It would take an hour, Halwyn had said. I could feel the tension in my neck as I thought about how we should have been on our way already. Still, we had to invest the extra time. If this worked, it could literally mean the difference between having an army or not.

  My father would soon enough start to wonder why his soldiers didn’t return, and I had no intention of still being on Crochan Island when he sent reinforcements. Next time, he would not limit his force to twenty-four.

  While my great-uncle, my brother, and I took turns heating the potion, Brendan, Charlie, and Jen cleared the table. Although they practically had to fight off Halwyn and Wadyan—both outraged at the prospect of guests having to do any labour. That aside, they cleaned the dishes, too.

  “I think that should do it.” Halwyn hopped to his feet, nodding at his rack of timekeeping devices.

  “Are you sure?” I asked, having just relieved Pullhelli again. “I can keep my fire going for half an awr more if needed.”

  “We don’t want to overcook it, so you can turn off the flames now.”

  I did as he asked and withdrew my arm from the opening. Standing, I glanced inside the pot. The liquid was not golden brown anymore. In fact, it couldn’t be called a liquid at all. At the bottom of the pot lay a turquoise blob the size of my palm, shining like it had its own internal light source.

  “Pardon me,” Halwyn said. After slipping on a pair of thick gloves, he grabbed the Enchantium pot by the metal rod and carried it outside. There, his son waited, holding two copper bowls, much like the one he had collected my blood in. Halwyn proceeded to tip the pot, and the turquoise substance seeped like resin from a tree into one of the bowls. It looked like a radioactive gooseberry jelly.

  Halwyn set the pot down on the grass and produced a finely meshed sieve from his belt. He touched the turquoise jelly carefully with the tip of his finger. “Cold enough.”

  Wadyan nodded and held up the empty copper bowl. His father placed the sieve on top of it, and Wadyan tipped the freshly cooked magical blob into it.

  “Now, I must admit I have never actually tried this, so I’m not sure about the size of the beads themselves. According to the ancient words, however, I’m supposed to do … this.” The older Goblin pressed his gloved hand on top of the jelly, which slowly passed through the fine mesh. After a minute or two, he was done. He raised the sieve and Wadyan tilted the bowl slightly.

  And there it was.

  Thousands of self-illuminated turquoise pinheads.

  “The beads of reverie,” I whispered.

  “That remains to be seen,” Wadyan added. “Get me a cup of ale, Da.”

  “What?” Halwyn gripped the bowl and held it away from his son, as though it were the most precious thing in the world. “Oh, no. This is not for you, son.”

  “But we have to test it to see if it works.”

  Halwyn shook his head vigorously. “I won’t risk your mind, son. I’ll try it myself.” With determined steps, he stalked inside, and as he returned, everyone else had joined our little group. Rowan held Charlie tight in the crook of his arm, and Brendan put his hand on the small of my back. The air was thick with anticipation.

  Halwyn used the tip of a spoon to fish out three of the tiny pearls. He gingerly tilted the spoon over his cup. I had half expected a puff of smoke or maybe some magical lightning or flames, but it just looked like he had dropped a couple of sweeteners into his tea.

  “Careful with the spoon,” Wadyan said. “Here, let me take it.”

  “Right, yes.” Halwyn moved slowly so as to not spill anything, and held the spoon out to his son.

  Wadyan reached out, but instead of going for the spoon, he grabbed the cup. It happened too fast for anyone to stop him and, within seconds, the young Goblin had drained the cup dry.

  “Wadyan!” Halwyn barked. “I told you not—!”

  But Wadyan held his hand up. “Wait,” he said quietly. His eyes shifted this way and that, settling on mine. “Just … wait.”

  His pupils expanded, making his eyes look like big black holes in their sockets. Inside, tendrils of blue, yellow, and green danced like flames, creating all sorts of kaleidoscopic patterns. He heaved for air and started to sway. Taryn, who stood closest to him, hurried behind the young Goblin and grabbed his shoulders to keep him from falling. Wadyan kept staring at me, fear and terror written in his gaze.

  “No!” he whispered. “No! No! Oh, no, please!�
�� He threw his hands up, cupping his face and shaking his head. His lips kept repeating “No, no, no,” but there was no sound anymore. Only his breath, short, along with quick gulps of air.

  Finally he removed his hands. Tears wetted his cheeks, and his dark eyes had regained their original pallor.

  “Wadyan?” Halwyn said anxiously. “My son. Are you—?”

  “We have to tell everyone,” Wadyan muttered through gritted teeth. “All the leaders.” He turned his head, gazing into each and every one of our eyes. “I have seen the end.”

  Taryn, Alun, and Pullhelli remained outside with me after the others had followed the shocked Wadyan inside. The air was chilly, with a biting wind howling around the corners. Like me, Pullhelli had his fire magic to keep warm, and though the other two had no such powers, they seemed perfectly content.

  “Auberon has more than a hundred thousand troops,” I said. “The late Lord Emmet said Morgana had less than forty.”

  “I reckon maybe ten thousand northern soldiers are under age,” Taryn added.

  I shook my head in disgust. “It tears my heart to pieces knowing that we might have to face them on the battlefield.”

  Pullhelli sighed. “We might have to face a much darker truth.”

  “Which is?”

  “Not all Morgana’s soldiers and allies will follow you.”

  He was right, and I had thought the same ever since I’d decided to stay and fight. “We will have to convince as many as possible and make do with what we get,” I said. “Then there’s the question of how and when.”

  “And where,” said Alun.

  “There’s that, too. Taryn, what are your thoughts on the latter?”

  The eagle Shifter pursed his lips and tilted his head. “Difficult to say. When Auberon marched on Avalen, he came from the east and the north. After the attack on Isolden, he sent twenty thousand men across the Avalen Plains. Morgana chose to meet him in the open instead of risking a war inside the city walls.

  “That worked, right?” I asked.

  “It did, but not necessarily because of Morgana’s tactics, if I’m being honest.”