A Thread of Magic (The Elgean Chronicles Book 0)

by C. A. McHugh

The wolves sprang forward to attack the first row of soldiers. The king’s gaze never wavered as he lifted his hand into the air. Bolts of blue lightning rained down upon the shifters, turning their growls into whines.

  “Hold your ground,” the Knight Protector shouted over the chaos. “Remember our first priority is to protect the king.”

  The king and his men were so focused on driving back the wolves that they paid little attention to Malinius as he climbed the stairs to the floor where the children slept. When he spied Ranealya outside their door, his mouth curled into a cruel grin. “Had a change of heart?”

  She shook her head, her heart fluttering like a hummingbird’s wings. “I won’t let you kill innocent children.”

  “Watch me.” He lunged toward her.

  She waited until the last second before she twisted to the side, shoving Malinius to the thick wooden railing as he passed. He toppled over the side and crashed onto the stone floor below. But even that fall wouldn’t stop him. It only spared her a few moments to hide the children.

  Locking the door behind her, Ranealya shifted back into the kitten and yowled near the wardrobe.

  The prince sat up as a crash sounded from below. The princess pulled the covers up to her nose and starting crying. “I’m scared.”

  Ranealya yowled even louder. Then get inside the wardrobe before they break their way inside.

  The prince stared at her, understanding dawning on his face as she rubbed her side along the open door. “We can hide in the wardrobe.”

  He grabbed his sister’s hand and dashed inside just as the first blow hit their bedroom door. Ranealya shifted back into her natural form and shut the wardrobe behind them, locking the key and throwing it out an open window just as the wooden door began to splinter. She turned and crouched behind one of the beds, waiting to jump on whoever was trying to break into the nursery.

  The next blow shattered the door, and Malinius roared into the room. “Where are they?”

  A whimper came from inside the wardrobe.

  “I’ll use their guts to hang them from the ramparts once I’m done with them.” Malinius leapt toward the wardrobe.

  Ranealya timed her jump to intercept him. They tumbled back onto the floor, their claws extended. “Leave the children out of this,” she hissed.

  “Not until they’re all dead.” Malinius knocked her off with enough force to slam her into the wall.

  The wind rushed out of her lungs, leaving a stabbing pain their wake. Her head swam from the impact. By the time her vision had sharpened, Malinius was rattling the wardrobe from side to side to tip it over.

  The children’s screams healed her injuries faster than any magic could. She rammed into Malinius, driving him toward the door and as far away from the young royals as possible. His teeth and claws ripped at her bare skin, but she dug in her heels to keep him from moving forward.

  Shouts filled the stairwell below, distracting him long enough for Raneaya to stab her claws into his gut and run them along the flesh from his ribs to below his navel. This time, it was his turn to struggle for air through the pain. His eyes bulged as she withdrew her bloody claws and pushed him back.

  “Malinius is attacking the children,” Dezrik cried from the top of the stairs.

  Ranealya ducked back into the room a split second before the first bolt of magic struck Malinius. By the time the next one hit, she’d managed to shift back into the form of a kitten and retreat to the wardrobe. From there, she watched as the Knight Protector sliced his sword through Malinius’s neck and sent his head rolling into the room.

  An eerie silence followed. The Knight Protector’s chest bellowed from the exertion of running up the stairs and delivering the death blow. He lifted his eyes and stared straight at Ranealya as though he could see the wildness in her eyes. Her heart rose into her throat. Would they believe her if she was forced to shift and proclaim her innocence?

  Dezrik ran into the empty room, his face a ghastly shade of pale except for the single line of blood that streaked his cheek. “Where are my children?”

  “Father,” the young prince shouted from inside the wardrobe. The locked door rattled. “We’re in here. The kitten locked us inside.”

  The king pressed his ear against the door. A single tear broke free from his eye. “Is your sister in there with you?”

  “Yes, Father,” the princess answered, and Dezrik lost the last traces of his composure. A sob of relief rose from the king’s throat as he wrapped his arms around the wardrobe.

  “We’ll send for a locksmith immediately, Your Majesty.” The Knight Protector laid a comforting hand on his liege’s shoulder, but his eyes never left Ranealya. “I wonder if there’s any truth to what the children said.”

  “If there is, that kitten will have a bowl full of cream three times a day for the rest of her life.” The king wiped his eyes and stood, his royal mask back in place. “Mariliel must have been watching over us to place that kitten along our path this morning.”

  Mariliel, nothing. If I hadn’t decided to intervene…

  Ranealya stopped herself mid-thought. Why had she decided to intervene? After all, they were just humans. She owed them nothing. In fact, they probably didn’t need her help. The king and his Knight Protector looked like they had things well in hand. Malinius’s plan to kill Dezrik would have failed.

  Except that if she hadn’t been there, would either of the children survived?

  As much as she wanted to believe she had complete control of her destiny, she’d seen the hand of the goddess interfere in her life before.

  A soldier ran into the room. “Your Majesty, we’ve found Lord Tevron’s body. He hasn’t been dead long.”

  “Tonight has shown me we can no longer ignore the threat among us.” Revenge hardened the lines of Dezrik’s face as he pointed to Malinius’s severed head. “Let it be known throughout the land that I will no longer tolerate any member of their race within my borders. When I return to Dromore, I will issue a royal proclamation rewarding any subject who kills a shapeshifter.”

  The Knight Protector nodded, his expression unreadable. His gaze slid to Ranealya once again.

  She stared back. Any retreat on her end could be viewed as an admission of guilt.

  A man with a set of picks entered the room, and within a few minutes, the children were free from the locked wardrobe and safely in their father’s arms. Ranealya used the distraction to slip out of the room and descend into the Great Hall.

  The bodies of the slain shapeshifters littered the floor, a wild mangle of fur and feathers that mocked the humans they’d been before Travodus created their race. The soldiers dragged them outside to the pile forming in the center of the courtyard. The last body they removed was Malinius’s. Once they placed him at the top of the pile, they doused the bodies with a barrel of wine, the purple liquid mixing with the red blood that still dripped from their fresh corpses.

  Three soldiers bearing torches approached the pile. Dezrik stood in the doorway, his children on either side of him, and gave a slow nod. The flames ignited the wine-soaked bodies with enough light to drive away the darkness. The smells of singed fur and burning flesh filled the courtyard, turning Ranealya’s stomach.

  She crouched in a crevice of the Great Hall’s walls, her body refusing to move. Malinius’s reckless plan had damned them all, just like she’d predicted. How much longer did she have before she was discovered and hunted for the price on her head?

  Then from the memories of the night she longed to forget, the words of the goddess, Elios, filled her mind. You did not choose this fate, yet it has been given to you. But all this has happened for a reason, Nyelle. You are the first of your kind, and you will be the last. Do not squander these gifts.

  Was tonight the beginning of the end?

  A pair of boots crunched against the gravel beside her, and a man scooped her up into his hands before she could escape. Dezrik held her up to his face, a deep furrow creasing the skin above his nose. “Little kitt
en, I am at a loss of what to do with you. You saved my children, and for that I am grateful, but I cannot allow you to stay here after what your kind has done tonight.”

  Her heart squeezed so tightly, she almost doubled over in his hands. He knew what she was.

  He leveled his gaze with her, his dark eyes serious. “Therefore, I will grant you mercy and a chance to run before my edict takes effect. If you are wise, you will be far outside my borders by the end of the week. Do you understand me, little kitten?”

  Anger boiled up inside her, and she resisted the urge to take a swipe at him with her paw. Mercy? Why not a pardon? Why not an exemption to the fate that awaited the others? Why not a warm room with plenty of food in a place where she could live out the rest of her days in comfort?

  Her body wanted to shift into something more powerful, more threatening than her current form. She was more than just a little kitten. She was a huntress, a predator, a creature of legend. But self-perseverance overruled her hot temper, and she stayed as she was.

  Or so she thought.

  Her reflection in the king’s eyes revealed the tiniest of shifts, the unnatural glow that emanated from her own eyes. Dezrik’s face paled, and he tightened his grip around her. “I’m giving you one chance. Do not waste my act of gratitude.”

  He set her down, leaving her outside the Great Hall when the door closed behind him and his entourage.

  Ranealya stared at the fire as the flames rose higher. For centuries, she’d stayed on the fringes of society by choice.

  Now she would be forced to if she wanted to survive.

  “Master Tyrrus Takes an Apprentice”

  The doll’s eye had come loose again.

  Kira stared at the loose threads that held the black button to the doll’s face. Maybe her mother could fix it before the bakery got too busy. She trotted over to her mother and tugged on her skirt.

  “Not now, Kira, I’m busy.”

  “But my dolly—”

  “Mommy’s helping a Master, Kira.” Her mother pointed to the man in the dark blue robes. He had a round face and belly and seemed very interested in her mother’s sweet buns. “Go sit in the corner like a good girl.”

  The Master Mage gave her an apologetic smile.

  Kira wandered back to her corner, wondering how she could fix the doll’s eye before she lost the precious button. The other girls would tease her if she had a doll with just one eye, and her mother would be busy until the sun set.

  But she knew how to fix it, even if her mother wouldn’t let her near the sharp needles yet.

  She glanced over her shoulder. The Master Mage was taking the wrapped sweet rolls from her mother. The butcher’s wife from down the street waited behind him to drop off her morning dough. Mommy baked everyone’s bread for them because she had the only oven on the street.

  No one would notice if she used a little magic to fix her doll.

  She hunched over the doll’s face, hiding it from anyone who could see what she was about to do. In her mind, she imagined the thread weaving itself back and forth through the fabric until the button was held tight against the cloth. A tingling sensation rushed down her arm, and a small blue spark erupted from her finger when she touched the doll’s face. Just like she’d imagined, the thread tightened the button back into place and then tied off into a knot.

  Good as new! She grinned and hugged her doll.

  She turned around and found the Master Mage staring at her with a wrinkled brow. Her skin turned cold, as though she was standing in the snow wearing only her underdress. Girls weren’t allowed to use magic, and her mother had always warned that someone would kill her if they caught her using it.

  “You have a very lovely daughter, Madame Baker,” he said, never taking his eyes off Kira.

  Her mother almost dropped the butcher’s wife’s dough. “Thank you, Master Tyrrus,” she replied, her voice shaking a little. Her brows drew together, and her mouth curled down into a frown.

  Kira hugged her doll even tighter. She was going to get a spanking after Master Tyrrus left if her mother’s cross expression was any indication. But a spanking would be better than what could happen if the Master had seen what she’d just done.

  “I shall enjoy these sweet rolls,” he continued, finally turning his attention away from her. “Thank you very much, and have a good day.”

  As soon as the door jingled closed behind him, her mother grabbed her arm and pulled her hard enough to leave bruises. “What did you do, Kira?” she hissed.

  “I fixed my dolly.” She held up the doll with the two good button eyes.

  Her mother released her and pressed her hands against her own cheeks. “Mariliel help me, what am I going to do with you? Are you trying to get us all killed?”

  Kira’s eyes stung. “You were so busy, and the other girls would laugh at me if I lost one of her eyes—”

  “I don’t care about that. You used magic again, didn’t you? And in front of a Master Mage?”

  Her bottom lip trembled. “I’m sorry, Mommy.”

  Her mother’s gaze lowered the doll. She yanked it from Kira’s arms. “As punishment, I’m taking your doll away.”

  “But Mom—”

  “Don’t argue with me. You need to learn not to use that curse you were born with. Now go outside and stay out of trouble.” Her mother turned on her heel and carried both the doll and the butcher’s dough into the back room where the oven was.

  Was Mommy mad enough to throw my doll into the oven’s flames?

  Kira took a few steps toward the back room, but stopped. Disobeying her mother would only increase her risk of never seeing her doll again. She slipped out the front door and into the crowded streets.

  A major road leading to Dromore ran through their village, bringing plenty of travelers to buy her mother’s breads and sweet rolls. Kira had long ago stopped trying to remember all the faces of the strangers who’d come in out of their bakery. Only the most interesting visitors stuck with her, including the Master Mage who’d been in town for the last week. When the traffic along the road cleared long enough for her to see the other side, she found him standing by the tavern’s front door.

  He was staring right at her.

  A chill rippled up her spine. Maybe he was waiting for the right moment to pounce on her and execute her in front of everyone in town for using magic. Maybe he was hoping to catch her using it again.

  Kira ran down the street toward the village green, hugging the walls of the buildings and praying her small size would make it harder for him to follow her. All the children in the town played on the green. Once she disappeared in the crowd, she’d be safe, and perhaps one of the other girls would be willing to lend her a doll for the day.

  She’d just stepped onto the pale spring grass when a shriek ripped through the ordinary babble of the day. Screams of terror followed. Kira’s mouth went dry. Even though her mind warned against it, she turned in the direction of the sound and gasped.

  A black horse, larger than any she’d ever seen, stampeded through the crowded street. Those in front of him lunged toward the walls of the building that lined the narrow road. One woman moved too slowly. The horse’s head knocked her to the ground, and he reared. His massive hooves pounded across her face, her chest, her stomach, leaving bloody prints and splatters on the dust. The woman’s face froze in a wide-eyed, open-mouthed expression of pure terror, but even her lifeless body couldn’t stop the horse. He darted forward, picking up speed once again.

  Kira’s heart beat in time with his hooves. Her breath came so quickly, she barely had time to draw in the air she needed. She stared into the whites of the horse’s wild, rolling eyes as he came closer and closer and closer…

  The magic stirred inside her gut, rising into her chest. It crawled up her neck and into her arms. She dug her fingers into her palms. No, she couldn’t release it here, not in front of everyone. They’d all kill her if she broke the kingdom’s law.

  But if she didn’t, she’d be t
rampled by the mad beast just like the woman down the street.

  Her stomach knotted. Her pulse throbbed under her skin. She pressed her lips together to keep the magic locked up inside. The horse was just a few feet away, and no one would save her from him. Kira closed her eyes and waited to meet death.

  But just like the breath she’d been trying to hold inside, the magic forced its way out. A scream erupted from her mouth, the magic flowing out with it. Then silence followed.

  After sucking in several deep breaths, Kira dared to open one eye. The horse stood in front of her, his hoof hovering a few inches above her head. But he didn’t smash it into her face like he had the woman down the street. His body remained frozen, locked in a menacing pose of power and destruction. Foam dripped from his mouth, but his sides never billowed. His eyes remained wild, but they no longer rolled around in their sockets.

  The air whooshed from her lungs as a man swooped her up into his arms. His dark blue robe smelled of smoke and ale. His breaths came loud and heavy as though he’d never run anywhere in his entire life. He plodded into an alleyway and dropped to his knees. “Are you hurt, child?” he asked.

  Kira’s tongue refused to move. Master Tyrrus knelt before her, gulping air. Surely, he’d witnessed what she’d done to the horse. Why did he bring her here to punish her instead of doing it in front of the whole town?

  Footsteps sounded behind them, and Master Tyrrus rose to his feet, hiding her behind the drapes of this robe.

  “Where is the girl?” a man asked.

  “Yes, where is she?” another man followed. “The law demands we destroy her at once.”

  Kira wrapped her fingers around Master Tyrrus’s robe and wondered how much longer she had to live.

  “Why must we destroy a poor child who’s had the fright of her life?” Master Tyrrus seemed to grow five extra inches as he spoke, and the shadows of the others backed away.

  “She used magic,” the second man said. “We’ve always suspected she was a little off, and now we know why.”

  “She did nothing of the sort.” Master Tyrrus’s voice boomed off the plaster walls of the buildings on either side of them. “I’m the one who cast the spell that stopped the horse.”