To Kill a Wizard: Rose's Story (The Protectors of Tarak Book 1)

by Lisa Morrow

  “Teach me to speak to the goddesses.”

  “We can start right away.”

  I took a moment longer, staring into the water. I would learn this power, but I would use it for good, not evil. I would prove to myself that The Fates were wrong. That Blair was wrong. I would not end up like her.

  Turning to Jundro, I met his eager gaze. “What do we do first?”

  “Come to the basin,” he said, his hands clenched before him in anticipation.

  I did as ordered.

  “Good. Now, you must speak the true names of Zeuita and Hadia, right after one another.”

  I closed my trembling hands. “I don’t know their names.”

  “Oh,” his voice faltered for a moment. “We can teach you. I’ve heard the Oracle speak these names many times in the past, and he has explained how he was able to discover their True Names… before his voice was taken.”

  “And what will happen when I speak their names? Libra’s name can set you free, so what will the goddess of all goddesses name do? What will the goddess of death’s name do?”

  His expression grew serious. “If you think of such things, this won’t work. Now, listen carefully. The goddess of all goddesses name must be screamed into the sky. Her name should be said without anger or dread or need, but with complete power, as if she is the one who should fear you. Her name should be screamed, just to the point that your voice might grow hoarse, but it can’t be hoarse. It must be strong and true.”

  The Oracle touched his arm, his mouth moving as Jundro watched him carefully. “If there is any hesitation in your voice, it’s not her true name. Zeuita doesn’t hesitate. And Hadia’s name must be whispered, filled with rage and sadness. Her name should echo the outrage one feels when they lose someone they love. But, it should be spoken so softly that her name should be a whisper on the wind.”

  Before I spoke my first goddess’s name, I wouldn’t have understood the instructions the Oracle had given, but now memories stirred inside of me. I knew how to call on the goddesses, even if it might still take me awhile to get the sounds of their names just right.

  “But how will they hear me? How is this different from simply using their powers?”

  Jundro watched the Oracle for a long time before he finally spoke. “Because this time you won’t just be pulling tiny wisps of magic from them, you’ll be forcing some of your magic into them. It will flow over them like a warm rush of wind, and although they won’t have to answer your call, they’ll feel compelled to.”

  “So am I calling both of them?”

  Jundro laughed, sweeping his unruly hair behind his ears. “No. To open the lines of communication to the goddesses, you must always use Zeuita and Hadia’s names first. Even if you then call on another goddess.

  “Why?”

  “When their names are spoken, you will touch both life and death for one beautiful moment. You’ll channel that energy, and combine it with the magic inside of you, and then you’ll speak the name of the goddess you wish to hear your voice.”

  “So, if I was calling upon a wood nymph…”

  “You would speak the true names of Hadia and Zeuita, and then you would say the wood nymph’s name. Hadia and Zeuita would feel your use of their power like always, like the lightest touch upon their skin, but the wood nymph would hear your shout ring through her body and soul.”

  I’d only seen a wood nymph once, a beautiful creature with eyes and ears like a deer. She’d paused at the edge of a stream. But when she saw me, she’d transformed into a tree.

  “Are you ready to try it?”

  I almost said yes, but then a terrible thought shattered my confidence. “If this works, what should I ask of Zeuita? Just to end the war?”

  The Oracles lips moved, but Jundro didn’t speak. A series of emotions flashed across his face, and then, he grew very still. “You will say whatever you must, because if you fail, Tarak will likely fall tomorrow night.”

  Taking a step away from the basin, I looked between Jundro and the Oracle. “How do you know that?”

  Jundro watched the Oracle again, but avoided my gaze when he answered. “The Undead wizards have discovered a way to break through the shield.”

  “I know. I was there when they shattered the shield, but the last thing Clarissa told me was that they were close.”

  He didn’t look surprised at my admission. “Well, tomorrow their powers will be fully recharged. The Protectors have inform us, as well as, the queen, that should you fail in your plead to Zeuita, we should abandon Tarak.”

  I squeezed my arms, willing the suffocating tightening around my throat to fade. I’d seen the Undead wizards. If they were released on the innocent farmers that made up most of Tarak, it would be a massacre. Asher’s face came to my mind, along with my father’s, and the faces of all the families still remaining in Duggery.

  “We can’t let that happen.”

  “You can’t let that happen.”

  Shivers wracked my body. So much pressure. So many innocent lives resting in my hands.

  The stone at my throat warmed, surprising me. I wrapped my hand around it, knowing it likely warned me, but also taking comfort in its familiarity.

  “I’m ready now.” My voice trembled ever so slightly.

  Jundro smiled and stepped around to the back of it, making certain to stay out of the way of the Oracle who peered eagerly at me.

  “You can communicate with the goddesses anywhere, but it helps to be touching water. It helps even more to be surrounded by water.” He pointed. “And the white marble is said to be their favorite stone, so everything is made of it, including the basin. When you call on the goddesses, allow your hands to sink below the surface of the water and touch the cool marble. It will help channel your magic.”

  “And how do I channel my magic through the goddesses?”

  It was a question I should’ve asked already.

  “Just as you send your magic into others at the Choosing, to search for their magic, send your magic into their names as you speak them.”

  My head ached. There was so much to remember, and there were so many things that could go wrong.

  I took a deep breath and reached my hands out. The tips of my fingers caressed the water, and then, I plunged them in. The cold water went to my wrists before I felt the bottom.

  “Whose name should I speak first?”

  “It is usually easier with Zeuita. There is life all around you that will add strength to her name.”

  The cool water seeped into my blood, and I trembled.

  “Zeuita,” I said, trying the sound of her name on my tongue. “Zeuita.” I tried again, this time louder, more confident. Her name buzzed across my tongue, but tasted wrong. “Zeuita!” I screamed, but my voice seemed forced and afraid. I couldn’t be afraid. I must be powerful and strong. “Zeuita!” I screamed again, and this time, I knew it was right. Warmth exploded from my body, and the water warmed around my hands.

  I took several deep breaths, trying to still my rapidly beating heart. “Hadia.” I whispered her name with revere. She was a goddess, but I couldn’t forget what she was. She would take my father’s life one day, and Asher’s, and my own. And she would enjoy it. “Hadia,” I whispered again, only her name still didn’t sound quite right. I thought of losing Asher, really thought about it, and it became hard to swallow. “Hadia,” I said again, goose bumps spread across my skin, but something still wasn’t right.

  “It isn’t working.”

  The Oracle turned his gaze onto Jundro, and the young man paled. “We were afraid of this. Hadia’s name took a long while for the Oracle to get just right. And in the beginning, he had to make certain… sacrifices.”

  “Sacrifies,” I repeated dumbly. “I thought the people of Tarak no longer sacrificed animals to the goddesses.”

  “We do not.” Jundro walked to the edge of the marble island. “Do you see that,” he asked, pointing.

  I joined him by the water’s edge and squinted into
the clear waters. “What is it?”

  “They are handcuffs, crafted by Hephesta, Goddess of the Blacksmiths. They were created without a key. Made only to be opened in the presence of a goddess.”

  “For what purpose?”

  “Hadia will come for death.”

  Goddess’ blood. He couldn’t possibly intend…

  Jundro leapt into the water, moving so fast that it took my mind several precious moments to catch up.

  “He can’t do this!” I screamed, turning to the Oracle, to his brother, but he appeared unmoved.

  I dove into the freezing waters, shooting straight for him. It took only a moment to reach him, but the handcuffs were already firmly in place. I pulled at the long chains tying him to the marble floor of the pool, but they didn’t budge.

  My lungs burned. I gazed into his face, memorizing it. His eyes were wide and fearful. I stared at them until the need for air seared my lungs. Then, angrily, I kicked off the bottom of the pool and shot to the surface.

  Climbing onto the island, I stumbled to the basin. “Zeuita!” I screamed, and warmth exploded across my skin. Taking a deep breath, I whispered, “Hadia,” but still nothing happened. “Hadia, Hadia, Hadia, Hadia,” I tried her name in every tone with every inflection I could muster, but still, nothing happened.

  Jundro began to jerk strangely beneath the water, and my breath came in sharp bursts. “Hadia, Hadia, Hadia,” I whispered. But still, nothing happened.

  Beneath the water, Jundro stilled, and my stomach clenched. “Goddesses’ blood, Hadia, answer my call.”

  The water in the basin bubbled, and I drew my hand back in shock and pain. My skin felt flushed and sweaty, but I concentrated on the inferno of golden flame inside of myself, and channeled my powers outward. “Zeuita, hear my call!” I shouted.

  Lightning crackled in the sky.

  Then, she was there.

  She was taller than any human, with long brown hair that flowed over her shoulders, and stopped just at her waist. Her large brown eyes were trained on me, but there was a glowing radiance beneath her skin that took my breath away. I had never seen anything as beautiful as this woman. Or as frightening.

  “Who dares to call upon Zeuita, goddess of all goddesses?” she demanded.

  “I am Rose Vidoryn.” I turned my gaze back to Jundro. His body had risen to the surface of the water, no longer trapped down by the cuffs. “He sacrificed himself so I could call on you.”

  She studied me, her eyes swirling with light. “Then, make his sacrifice worth it.”

  I wanted to obey her, but something inside of me refused. “He might still be alive.”

  She flicked her wrists, and his body slowly began to drift through the water towards us. “No, the boy is dead.”

  My mind barely processed anything. I ran, then dove into the water.

  Turning my back on the goddess was enough to make me lose my dinner, but imagining Jundro dying when I could’ve saved him would haunt me all my days. I reached his still form, then dragged him out of the water and onto the marble.

  “He is gone,” Zeuita said.

  “No,” I answered, shaking my head. I felt his chest, but no heart beat within it. “No, I won’t let him die.”

  I turned him on his side and shook him, beating his back, anything rather than sit helplessly.

  “Would you really waste your time with me to save the boy?”

  Zeuita stood over me.

  I trembled. “You are the Goddess of Life. Would you do any less?”

  My question challenged the most powerful goddess of all.

  Something only a fool would do.

  But instead of punishing me for my insolence, she knelt down beside Jundro and placed her hand on his chest. A moment later, he sat up, spitting out water and vomiting into the pool beside him.

  I could’ve cried with relief.

  Zeuita smiled at me. “You truly are worth the gifts I bestowed upon you, as was your mother.”

  I longed to ask her about my mother, but I’d already wasted precious time. “And you’ve given me so much, and yet, I’m here to ask you for more.” I took a deep breath. “Tomorrow the wizards will kill us all, unless you reverse your sister’s decision.”

  Her smile vanished. “I cannot take away a promise given by my sister. The Protectors are responsible for killing all the wizards, and so, they’ve been promised revenge.”

  Zeuita’s tone left no room for argument, but a thought came to my mind. “But, my goddess, not all the wizards are dead. One remains alive.”

  Her dark brows rose. “A wizard remains alive?”

  “Yes, Asher,” I blurted. “He lives safely in Wintercarve, just below the castle of The Protectors.”

  Amazement filled her expression, giving a soft glow to her skin. “Then, perhaps, there is something I can do. My sister struck a bargain for revenge for killing all wizards, and yet, a wizard remains alive.”

  My words rushed out. “Thank you, my goddess.”

  She frowned. “I think you mistake me. The wizards still deserve blood for the lives that have been taken. But when they are killed this time, they will remain dead forever.”

  Disappointment left an ashy taste on my tongue. “I’m not sure that’s enough.”

  Zeuita reached out and ran a hand gently over my wet hair. Her touch was warm and comforting.

  “If you’re as extraordinary as your mother, you will think of a way to win this final battle.”

  She pressed a kiss to my forehead and gazed into my eyes. “Remember that even though The Protectors betrayed me as a child would betray their mother, you are still my blessed children.”

  And then, she was gone.

  I collapsed onto the floor next to Jundro. Had all my efforts been in vain?

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  “So, I guess we’ll all die,” Clarissa says, dryly.

  “But at least this will give us a chance.” Sura clutched the shawl around her shoulders and looked at me, concern in her eyes. “Rose, you should sleep soon. Using magic has a way of draining us.”

  My body ached, and my eyes took longer and longer to open when I blinked. It’d been a long night, making the walk from The Oracle through the town seemed to take an eternity. We stood on the steps of the portal, preparing to head back to The Glass Castle, to tell Blair the result of my plea to Zeuita.

  “Yeah, a chance to die, that’s all she’s given—” Clarissa stopped in mid-sentence, her eyes locked on the shadows of an alley near us.

  I squinted into the darkness, and a man separated himself from shadows. He was lean and handsome, but something about him set me on edge.

  “Go to the castle yourself; I’ve got something to take care of first.”

  Clarissa moved with sure strides, but her face held an expression I’d never seen before: true concern. As she approached the man, her expression changed to one of anger, and she gripped his arm. He allowed her to lead him into the darkness of the shadows, and I longed to follow them, to unravel perhaps a piece of the mystery that was Clarissa.

  “How was the Oracle?” Sura asked, staring down at her feet. “I mean, did he look well?”

  “He looked… old,” I answered.

  To my surprise, she winched. “Did Zeuita speak to him?”

  “No. Why?”

  And then, I realized what I fool I’d been. I should’ve asked Zeuita to forgive the Oracle, if not to renew his voice, then to renew his body.

  “Everything happened so fast,” I explained lamely. “I never thought to…”

  To what? To introduce them again? To ask her to forgive him? He’d cried at the sight of someone who could speak to the goddesses, and yet, I’d forgotten him when the moment came. I hadn’t even looked at him, hadn’t even thought of how he must have felt in that moment. And in this, I made a mistake.

  “Oh,” Sura said, rubbing the lace of her shawl with her fingertips. “We’d hoped… I’d hoped, that she would forgive him. Perhaps give him his voice and yout
h back.”

  “Do you know him well then?”

  Her movements stilled, and she gazed up at me, biting her lip lightly. “I know him.”

  Something about her reaction made me wonder as to the nature of their relationship, but my thoughts were sluggish. “I’m sorry I didn’t help him.”

  Her gaze held mine. “There will be other opportunities.”

  I leaned away from her. Her voice was like steel, either a threat or promise, I wasn’t sure which.

  “I should go,” I said.

  Sura was quiet for a moment. “Of course.” Something in the tilt of her head, in the way she held my gaze made me think she had more to say, but then she looked away. “Do you know how to open the portal?”

  I shook my head.

  “You and Blair are able to travel from one place to another without the portal, but it takes a great deal of your powers. The rest of us require the portals to travel. All we must do is channel our powers into the center of it, and think of the place we wish to go. It helps to use our tools, if we have any. You should say the Goddess of Travel’s name, just as Clarissa uses her blades.”

  “Is Blair expecting me?”

  “No, we thought it best for her to hear the story directly from you.”

  More like they feared Blair would be angry and take it out on them, but I didn’t mind. Their cowardice might’ve given me the opportunity I needed.

  “I should go check on Brien,” her eyes widened. “I mean, the Oracle. May the goddesses watch over you.”

  Sura didn’t look back as she hurried into the shadows, and I wondered once again about her relationship with the Oracle. He had once been a young man after all. Were they friends? Or did he perhaps hold her heart?

  I rubbed my face. I had more important things to worry about.

  Turning to the portal, I channeled my magic into the center of it and thought of Wintercarve. “Hermya.” The center flared to life, revealing a dark, snowy world. I prayed to the goddesses, I’d found the right place. The place Asher was supposed to be waiting for me.