by Lora Leigh
As the silent battle raged, Astra noticed the Guardian as she began probing at the shield with her magick. A frown marred her brow as she ran her hands over it, caressed it with the shades of her magick, infused with those of her Wizards.
As she did so, her lips tightened, her nostrils flaring, a sure indication of her rising anger.
“Dragon, you do not know what you ask,” one of the Veressi breathed out roughly, the long fall of his silken hair brushing against his shoulders as he shook his head as though in weariness. “Our secrets are ones we were warned to hold—”
“So many secrets,” Marina said then, moving from the shield to face the Veressi. “Within this shield Garron has created, there is more information than even you know. You made your mistake, Veressi, when you added to its strength.”
Her Consorts now flanked her, arms crossed over their chests, their expressions disapproving and filled with ire as they now faced their former Guardians.
“How so, Guardian?” one asked gently. “This magick is free of any hint of individual strength or power. It is as water. Clear. Clean.”
“And like water, that which comes from the oceans or the seas has a salty tang. From the mountain streams an icy bite, from the forest lakes a cool, refreshing sensation against the tongue. This magick,” she gestured to the shield, “this magick is the same that I sensed when I entered my sister’s room to find her as well as my mother having been taken. Tell me, dracas slime, where have you taken my queen mother and her heir?”
That was the familiarity she had sensed each time she had been in the presence of the Veressi.
Turning to them, she realized, just as the Sashtains had, her own Wizards now stood protectively at her side. What fearsome deeds had the Veressi done that her Wizards and Marina’s would now guard them so closely?
The Veressi stared back at them, their expressions cleared, as though they were but carvings of some material to appear as living, breathing beings. In their eyes, there was no sign of warmth, nay, nor perhaps of life either.
The one who stood closest glanced behind him to the brother who leaned negligently against the wall.
Ruine, she was betting. Before as she had faced him, she had noticed his tendency to laze against the wall as though the effort of joining others was more than he could force himself to do.
“Sorceress, be careful what you accuse us of.”
“I do not accuse, I asked a simple, straightforward question, Wizards. Where are my mother and my sister? For I know you have them, just as I now know each unique nuance of your magick. You could never hide it from me now, Wizards.”
Anger surged through the confined space as the Guardian of Covenan, fueled by her fury and the strength of her Wizard Consorts, faced the Veressi.
“Guardian, be at ease.” It was Garron who spoke, who attempted to still the suddenly lashing bands of furious, emerald magick beginning to whip about the Veressi. “The time now is for what can be given, not what can be demanded.”
Marina turned on him, her face flushed, the red-gold of her hair seeming to fly about her as she faced the powerful beast.
“You have been our protector, Garron, yet you stand here before me and defend those who have stolen from us my mother and sister? Have your loyalties suddenly turned from those you have protected for a millennium to Wizards who all but drained us of life so many centuries ago?”
Powerful teeth snapped together in anger then as Garron suddenly stood to his full, impressive height.
“You throw out accusations as a child would,” he smirked. “I had hoped the Joining with your Wizards would have matured you past such infantile behaviors. Was I wrong?”
Astra watched as Marina’s shoulders stiffened and magick threatened to pour from her.
“Guardian, they are safe.” Astra stepped forward quickly.
Pride was swirling with magick and creating a combination that could well destroy what had the potential to bring peace instead.
None had told her that she could not speak of what she had learned with her Joining with her own Consorts. Astra had been told to keep no secrets.
“And you know this how?” Marina turned on her furiously, her green eyes blazing with fear for her mother and sister.
Astra looked from Rhydan to Torran, saw the resignation in their expressions that matched the Veressis’ and continued on.
None was urging her to hold her peace and the betrayal she had dealt her Guardian demanded some form of atonement. Some form of proof that it was not treason; rather it was love of men she knew had acted honorably.
“Through my Joining with the Delmari,” she answered softly. “The danger of the dark one in Garron’s form is growing and a select of Wizards have been chosen not just to aid in strengthening the rings of magick about the moons and within the magick lands, but also to protect those who are the most powerful.” She looked to the Ruling Wizards. “Powerful Wizards willing to love the women who see them as monsters rather than men. The Kings of Cauldaran who took a princess Sorceress to Consort though she fought them at every turn.”
She turned then to her Delmari. “And powerful Wizards who gave up what has been their birthright since Wizards first tasted magick, to come to this land and draw out those aiding the darkness. They did this, knowing it may mean perhaps losing their lands as well as the Consortress they have watched over since she was but a child. Rhydan and Torran did this because your Wizards refused to search for the Guardian to take as Consortress rather than the one their hearts cleaved to, unknowing she was one and the same.
“So my Consorts gave the illusion that they did this instead, Guardian. They gave the illusion of wishing to claim you, though they knew it could mean losing me. Because someone had to make the sacrifice to draw that darkness into the light.”
Astra faced her Guardian, watched Marina’s pain as it filled her eyes, and saw the tears that fell to her cheeks.
“I need to know Mother and Serena are safe,” Marina whispered.
“Even if it means their deaths?” It was a Veressi who spoke. “Trust me when I say, Guardian, should your revered and most beautiful sister wish her freedom, then her freedom she would have. Should she see past her fears to the journeys she has taken over the past years, believing her travels to be only dreams, then she could return here to her home and return her mother to the throne. Until then, she is but a babe in the face of what could be coming on the horizon. Without the ability to tap into the power she holds, she is as weak as the Griffon babe when he was but stone, crushed beneath the cruelty of a Sorceress’ hatred.”
Marina stumbled back, all but falling into her Wizards’ arms as she stared back at first Astra, then the Veressi.
“I would know if Serena held such power,” she protested, seemingly shocked.
“And the dreams she shared with you when you were near broken from that attack as a fledgling Sorceress?” one asked gently. “The dreams of shadowed realms and adventures as warrioress?” He wiped his hand over his face as the other grimaced. “Sweet merciful Sentinels. Neither of you knew the danger you faced nor the danger you forced us to face when we joined you to protect the precious power the two of you possessed.”
“And I am to know you are not playing some cruel, vicious trick such as your ancestors would have done?” Shock and disbelief filled her voice now. “I believed Guardians could not lie to another, but I doubt this sincerely now. How could you know of such things?”
Because they had taken those travels.
Astra remembered well the tales she and Serena told her and the others of the Sorceress Brigade when they were much younger. The adventures Serena wove as Marina slept to hold back the nightmares that would have come instead.
“Shall we introduce ourselves?” Raize asked mockingly. “I bid you adventure, Sorceress. I, Maxum, and my brother, Andrell, welcome you to the Vale of Sorcery. Which battle do you prefer?”
Hard lips quirked into simultaneous smiles of mockery.
“Tell me, Guardian,” the ot
her asked then. “Which did you prefer? That we leave her in her bed, her magick undefended as she drifted in the spell created by the god Dar’el? Or that we take her where his magick could not touch her, a place where she and her mother are protected even from the gods until she can protect herself?”
Astra, as the Guardian, could not hide her shock.
She was almost unaware of her movement to place herself closer to her Wizards, though she was not unaware of their arms, each crossing over her back, holding her securely lest that darkness steal her away.
Dar’el. The darkest of the darkness. The one Shadow Hell was created for. His punishment for bringing the cruelty of his parents, the Sentinel gods, upon his innocent brother’s head and creating for Dal’el a life of misery.
The darkness that was evil had implanted its seed within the Sorceress goddess Musera at the time of her conception of Wizard Twins. Coming to her in a dream, he tied the life of his child to those of her Twins and laughed at her pain, mocked the purity and innocence of her love for her Twin gods and sought to destroy the bond created by their magick.
At the birth of the babes, each separate in looks, they had looked inside the babes and spoken to them, which that they be. And the child of darkness whispered to them. It was the child of darker skin, of darker eyes. One who could not hide his evil, they were told.
Only hours old and that child had known the darkness of deceit.
“He seeks to destroy the Sorceresses once again,” Marina whispered, horrified.
The Veressi inclined their heads in agreement. “And Serena was gifted with the magick to return him to the pits for another millennium. But only if she survives, only if she willingly accepts her magick and her Consortors. Only, Keeper of Covenan, if she is strong enough to accept who she is and the fate given her.”
Astra watched her Guardian’s lips part, watched the fear that filled her eyes.
“Then we are doomed,” she stated, her voice now hoarse and filled with horror. “We are doomed, Veressi, because there is nothing on this planet, even the darkness of that great evil, that my sister fears more than her own power.”
“But, Guardian, there is nothing on this planet or beyond that she loves more than she loves her mother, her sisters and the Sorceresses who saved her at a time when that power would have destroyed her.” Gentleness cloaked the two for but a moment before it was hidden once again. “And there is nothing she would not brave, even that power, as fearsome as it is, to save them.”
And that, Astra knew, could well be all that would save them.
Chapter Fourteen
No decision had been made to her punishment. The Ruling Sashtain Wizards had commanded her Consortors to take her to her room. They were to remain with her, with only a spell of exit placed upon her door rather than actual guards.
That spell would not keep them bound inside; all it would do was notify the Guardian, her Consortors and Garron should they leave the rooms.
On the morn, they would discuss what would come next, the Keeper of Covenan informed her.
What would come next, Astra wondered. She could imagine nothing but banishment from the royal estates at the least. There was always the chance Marina could take from her the gifts Covenan had given her, her place as Keeper in Waiting of the Mystic Lands.
Only Marina herself had the power to do such a thing though, never a mother with such bleak, dark hatred inside her.
To take that power from her would be a fate worse than death, no matter who struck the magickal blow to sever the bonds.
To take her Wizards from her, though, would be death itself.
Marina had sent her to the magick pools beneath the castle rather than confining her with her Delmari Consortors. There, she was prepared for her warriors as she should have been that first night.
The curls that shielded the sensitive flesh of her pussy and aching clitoris were shorn by magick, leaving her forever bare to the forces of her Consortors’ touch, as well as their magick.
She was cleansed thoroughly, Sorceresses in waiting as well as those older, Joined Sorceresses accompanied her, their talks of Joinings and men bringing gales of laughter to the much younger ladies attending Astra.
Would her Guardian have her put to death after ensuring her this night of magick and bonding with the Wizards meant to belong to Astra for life?
Surely she would not. Never had Astra known Marina to have a cruel bone in her body.
She was then taken to a solitary room with orders to rest from her trials. Exhaustion had been pulling at her for hours, but the thought that this might be her last night with her Consortors had kept her strength from waning.
Yet the moment her head touched the pillows and the brushed silk of the sheets drawn to her shoulders, Astra found herself sleeping, locked in dreams of happiness and her Consortors’ smiles.
So much so that the twin moons of Sentmar were rising to herald the end of another day before she awoke to a meal and yet more of the gentle pampering reserved for Sorceresses heading for their Joining.
As the twin moons rose high in the night sky, she was taken to her room where her Consortors awaited her. Marina’s message to her had been such that Rhydan and Torran had been behind closed doors with the Rulers in Waiting for most of the day, giving them much of the information they had gleaned from their attempts to discover how far the dark magick had infiltrated into the warrior sentinel ranks.
Now, after a day of rest without their touch, she found herself aching for them, her need for them settling in the pit of her stomach and clenching the depths of her pussy as she faced them.
“We have this night,” Torran stated as he faced her, slowly disrobing by hand rather than magick. “We will not waste it with worry or doubt of our actions, Astra. This night, we will take as ours.”
Her lips curved at the bit of amusement that statement brought.
“Did we not have the past day, before Alisante’s less-than-polite intrusion, as our own?”
Rhydan gave a small grunt of acknowledgement. “Aye, and I am far from sated, Consortress. I would have far more of you.”
With his words spoken, her clothing melted from her, disappearing and falling to the floor by the simple act of a wave of his hand.
They may have disrobed by hand, but it was by magick they removed her clothing, as though unable to wait to see her nakedness. The brush of air against the curves of her breasts, caressing the elongated tips of her nipples, had a small tremor of hunger racing down her spine.
Would she get enough of their touch?
Nay, she believed it would never be possible.
As she stood before them, their magick wrapped around her, she suddenly found herself impossibly aroused, more aroused than ever, by the fact that she was restrained.
Wizard magick bound her, its strength holding her in place. She was powerless, owning naught but her own magick in which to stroke or to pleasure them.
Breathing in slow and deep, determined to hold to the last thread of sanity, she sent that magick to do just that. To caress and stroke and pleasure them as she knew they would pleasure her.
It slipped along the tensed muscles of their legs, twined along their powerful thighs, then the sensation of her fingers wrapping about the hardened, thickened shafts had a gasp parting her lips.
Sensual magick telegraphed the feel of them, the heat and pulsating hunger in them to her fingertips, along her fingers and palms and had her aching for more.
“Ah Consortress, ease your magick before you steal the last of any control we may have,” Torran groaned, his voice harsh now with his need.
Easing her magick along each hard length of their cocks, it then wrapped along the taut sacs of their balls, tightened delicately and stroked with movements as sensual as the hunger surging through her.
As they neared her, nothing mattered but feeling their touch. But touching them.
She didn’t bother to fight the bonds of magick as they moved behind her.
“
So long we have hungered for you, Consortress.” Rhydan moved slowly behind her, his hands and his magick caressing down her back to her buttocks.
“We have ached for you, love,” Torran rasped, his voice low, stroking like roughened velvet over her senses, weakening her with the need that rushed through her.
Behind her, Rhydan’s hands stroked over her buttocks, his fingers gripping the rounded curves, parting them, sending a strike of sensual pleasure-pain at the tender opening.
Astra felt her breath tight in her chest as Rhydan lifted her then and carried her to the bed. Laying her to allow her stomach to rest against the bed, her warriors moved to the mattress with her.
“Ease up,” Torran whispered, his magick lifting her shoulders as Rhydan’s hands gripped her hips and raised her to her knees.
Kneeling before Torran, his hard warrior’s fingers clenching his cock and pressing it to her mouth, Astra opened her lips willingly.
His other hand cupped her cheek as her lips opened over him and drew the hard crest inside. The immediate taste of male passion, a bit salty, all heat, seared her senses.
Behind her, Rhydan’s lips touched the small of her back as his magick eased through the cleft of her rear and found the tender bud of her anus.
The threads of heated sensation had her back arching, a moan vibrating over the cock filling her mouth. This pleasure was insidious, thundering through her veins and igniting her magick with explosive results.
Closing her lips around the thick, flared crest of Torran’s cock, she sucked it deep, her tongue lashing beneath, rubbing, tasting the throbbing excitement that filled it.
Rhydan kissed along her buttocks, parted her thighs farther and slid his hand between them. Cupping the bare mound of her pussy, his fingers found the saturated slit and swollen bud of her clit. Stroking there, rubbing against the side of the delicate bundle of nerves, he had her hips writhing before him.
Only to still, shock racing through her as Rhydan parted the rounded curves and slid his tongue to the tightly puckered entrance of her ass. It was shocking. Exciting. It was every sensual pleasure a woman could dream of.
