Legacy of the Sorceress (A Gargoyle and Sorceress Tale Book 6)

by Lisa Blackwood

  Obsidian’s feeling might sound a touch dramatic, but knowing what the link had already tried, his fears weren’t unfounded. Still, she’d never really been afraid of Obsidian, and strangely, she still wasn’t, even after his confession.

  They’d been in a lot of tight spots. They’d get through this one too. Anna just wasn’t sure how yet.

  “Speaking one’s fears is always the start to overcoming them.” Lord Dray’s soft, soothing tones washed over Anna, and she saw Obsidian’s wings relax ever so slightly. “Another way is to face them head-on.”

  Obsidian looked up at last.

  “Yes, my Rasoren. There is a way to free yourself from this fear that threatens to cripple you. Throw down all your mental barriers and truly embrace your link. When a normal Rasoren and Kyrsu are first establishing their bond, they must become one mind for a short time. Considering the nature of your bond, that step is likely even more crucial. Allow Anna to experience your love and fear. I think you’ll find she is strong enough to push back and stand her ground.”

  “I…I don’t trust myself.”

  “That is easy enough to solve.” Draydrak spread his arms wide. “You may have the pick of the masters or any of the other mentors to watch over you. If it is as you fear, and you cannot yet control the link, they will be able to stop you before things develop too far.”

  “I…” Obsidian cleared his throat and then stiffened his spine, drawing up to his full height. “I will do as you ask, but only if Anna is in agreement.”

  “I am.” If this was what it took for Obsidian to regain his confidence, then she’d even risk him seeing what she desperately didn’t want him to see.

  “Very well. Make your selection this day. There is no point putting this off.”

  Anna thought Dray was finished with them, but his expression turned thoughtful. “Perhaps if I share my greatest fear, it will help to lessen yours?”

  Anna somehow doubted that, but merely nodded her head. Beside her, Obsidian was doing his best to restore some of his composure.

  Needing to do something for him, and not caring if Lord Dray thought it a weakness, Anna came to stand next to her partner and wrapped a wing around his larger form.

  He shuddered and leaned into her.

  “Shhh…I’m here. We’ll find a solution to this newest complication.”

  “Oh, goddess, if we don’t, I’ll…I’ll. We just can’t let that happen.”

  “We won’t. Lord Dray will help us.”

  The demigod, shifted his legs, seeking a more comfortable position. “The Avatars once shared with me an ancient prophecy. It tells of how the first female gargoyles will mark the coming of Death’s Mate. Lillian is the first female gargoyle. You are the second.”

  Anna nodded. Because, really, what else did you do when a demigod was telling stories?

  “While I can see the possible futures of all living creatures, that gift does not extend to my own future or my twin’s. But now there is another being whose future I cannot see.” He paused as if deep in thought, then gave himself a little shake and continued. “The Avatars’ youngest child—her future I cannot see. That suggests it will be entwined with mine.”

  Anna knew about Lillian and Gregory’s unborn child. But Lord Death’s wording was strange. Youngest child. Not only child.

  “Do the Avatars have more than one child?” Anna blurted out.

  Lord Dray’s one ear flicked forward, then he grinned again. “You caught that, did you? That is a story for another time.”

  Yeah. It probably was.

  The Lord of the Underworld held all four of his hands clasped loosely against his abdomen. “I fear Lillian and Gregory’s girl child is the mate the Divine Ones promised me.”

  “You don’t sound too enthusiastic about that.”

  “Why should I be?” He shrugged. “I have been alone all of my existence. I’m am at peace with what I am. And after seeing what the Avatars have suffered for love, and what it did to my twin, do you blame me for wishing to avoid that?”

  “No, I suppose not.” Anna didn’t know what he wanted to hear, but she did think she understood why he was sharing. He was telling them that they weren’t alone in fearing love and what it could do to them.

  Nice gesture, but Anna didn’t think what was wrong with her, and now Obsidian, could be healed with a story.

  “But not all love is painful. For many, it is a glorious thing.”

  Yeah. But it wasn’t for everyone.

  “At least you don’t have to worry about the Avatars’ child for a few years yet. She hasn’t even been born yet.”

  Dray just flashed his teeth at her. “The outlook of a mortal. For me, the wait for her birth and then growth will be but a blink in time.”

  Anna compressed her lips, realizing something else. “You’ve said it yourself. You don’t know your future. Or the girl’s. With war looming, nothing is guaranteed.”

  “That is the truth.” Dray agreed softly. “The future isn’t set. There are always many, many possible futures. And in many of them, I see you and Obsidian overcoming your fears and sharing a love that rivals the Avatars.”

  And in others he must have seen us fail, destroyed by a love twisted into something of darkness, Anna thought, or else he wouldn’t have needed to warn us of the danger.

  Chapter 34

  Anna and Obsidian sat across from each other in the center of the sand ring. She tried to ignore all the places where sand was infiltrating as she listened to Rook’s deep voice.

  “The first step to deepening your link is to lower your mental shields and let each other fully into your minds.” He paused, giving them a moment to begin. When nothing happened, he continued in a soothing voice—the first she’d ever heard him use.

  Who would have thought Rook had a gentler side?

  “Obsidian, you worry that your mind will take command of Anna’s, that what might be a benefit in battle, could also cause trouble in your day-to-day life.” Rook patted the younger gargoyle on the shoulder. “But you forget, Anna is equally as strong in both mind and soul. She simply must remember that and know when to fight and when to give. This is just another part of your training.”

  “That doesn’t sound so terrible, as far as a magical link goes, does it?”

  Obsidian snorted. “Talk to me again when my emotions bleed over, and you find yourself suddenly and inexplicably seeing through my eyes and feeling what I feel.”

  “Both of you, stop muttering in each other’s heads and concentrate!”

  Damn it. Sometimes she forgot Rook had the gift to see inside his student’s minds.

  She concentrated on her breathing, the deep sound of her pulse, the warmth of the sand. Of Obsidian’s steady breath, his scent, the thrum of his strong heart.

  “Now discard everything I taught you about building shields.” Rook’s voice came from different directions as he paced a circle around them. “That’s it. No barriers. Reach for each other without fear.”

  Anna sighed out a long breath and then visualized surrendering the last shield blocking Obsidian from her mind.

  The shield lowered.

  She waited.

  Nothing happened.

  Her eyes popped open to stare at her partner. His head was bowed, eyes closed, but his mind was still locked up tight. But even then, he couldn’t block their link entirely and a hint of fear, like a bitter fruit, flowed down it to her.

  “It’s okay to be scared,” she whispered into his thoughts.

  Obsidian still didn’t respond.

  Rook huffed. “Obsidian, you haven’t been afraid of any part of your training. Why is this so different? You can trust Anna to protect herself. Have faith in her.”

  The tilt of Obsidian’s ears and the firm press of his lips over his fangs looked a touch more belligerent than he had a moment before.

  “We’re a team.” Anna reminded him softly. “Have you forgotten that? We can survive anything if we work together. This is just the newest obsta
cle. We’ll work through this, but you must come halfway. You can trust me.”

  “I do trust you.” At last he released his hold on the mental shields holding her, and the rest of the world, at bay.

  Her power reacted faster than her brain, reaching for him. His strength, his essence, reached back. The two energies met in one swift rush. Then they were one mind for an endless moment. Distantly, they felt Anna’s body sway closer to their male half as magical power built in a wave between them.

  Then there was a shift in the balance and Obsidian’s mind expanded to become her world. He was everywhere, he surrounded her mind, and she was home.

  He loved her. The emotion was such a beautiful, incandescent radiance, she couldn’t help but be in awe of it. His spirit drew her in and what he felt sharpened. Yes, his body hungered like any healthy young male’s, but there was nothing of darkness about that. He did not want to force her. He just wanted her to return his feelings, to welcome him.

  Regret that she couldn’t be what he needed, because some other thoughtless prick had just taken what he wanted, lit a spark of anger in her soul.

  But that was from the time before. It couldn’t touch what they shared now. Nothing could. That was the beautiful and seductive promise of the link.

  His fears weren’t unfounded. What he feared the most was possible if they didn’t guard against it. She saw how easy their bond made it should he wish to seduce her. But she also saw that weakness ran in both directions. Should she ever wish to exert her will upon him, she could.

  Like any relationship, for their bond to be healthy, they needed they minds and hearts in balance.

  “Tell you what, I’ll be strong when you are weak, and you’ll be strong when I am weak. How’s that for a start? Does that suit you?”

  “Yes, my beautiful, fierce one.”

  Their minds slowly pulled away from each other and Anna sensed movement around her.

  Slowly, she recognized voices. A warm body circled protectively around her. Her nose buried in his mane. Her arms and wings surrounded him. Protecting. Sheltering.

  It was only then that she realized he was sobbing wordlessly into her neck.

  “I didn’t... I didn’t enslave you.”

  “Of course, you didn’t.” Anna stroked a hand along his back, under his wings. Hoping her touch conveyed her love, even if it wasn’t the type of love he craved.

  “But I wanted to. I wasn’t sure if I could stop once I started.”

  “I’m sorry you had to go through that. But it’s done... And I think it worked. Our bond feels like it did that day we raced down the mountainside.” She looked to Rook for confirmation.

  “Your link burns brighter than before. Lord Dray’s plan worked. You both should be ready for the next level of your training.”

  Obsidian was slow to uncurl, and when he did, Rook patted his shoulder.

  “How do you feel?” Anna asked.

  “I am well.” He met her gaze, then glanced away into the distance. She wasn’t at all sure he was okay, though.

  He was still shaking with reaction.

  Something warm unfurled within her at his show of vulnerability. She’d never seen him like this. Even as a child, he’d rarely cried. Soon, he would pull his mental armor back in place and hide that part from her.

  Before he could, Anna stood and wrapped her arms around him again, opening her mind and offering him shelter, comforting him as only his Kyrsu could. “We’ve got this.”

  Obsidian shuddered against her. She could almost feel it as he drank up her love in deep, grateful gulps. Eventually, his wings stopped their quivering, and he reluctantly pulled away. Then, with a look of absolute tenderness on his face, he reached out and stroked a knuckle down her cheek.

  “I do not deserve you.”

  Anna’s heart gave a betraying little lurch at his words. She’d only wanted to provide him with comfort, and if she was truthful, take some in return. Though she feared she was foolishly trying to give him something else in return—her shriveled little heart.

  But it was more than half dead. It was no fit gift to give. Anna needed to lighten the mood.

  “No. You certainly didn’t deserve to get saddled with me and my baggage. Wonder what god you pissed off in your last life?”

  Obsidian snorted with humor. “I’ll have to thank him.”

  “Come. You’re exhausted. I think the mentors are going to give us the rest of the day off. Why don’t we go round up something good to eat and indulge ourselves?”

  Obsidian nodded in agreement and Anna was glad that the strange intimacy from the strengthening bond seemed to be fading a bit. She wasn’t ready to deal with that level of intimacy all the time.

  It was lucky, she supposed, that he’d been so focused on his own fears that he hadn’t noticed her new, and very, unsisterly feelings toward him.

  Later, she would examine them, catalog them, and then bury them somewhere deep inside the darkest corner of her soul where they’d wither and die. Only then could she guarantee this relationship wouldn’t get fucked up like all her others.

  She couldn’t screw this up. She wasn’t sure if she could survive without him. But if he learned her soul wasn’t that strong, fierce essence he thought, he might turn from her. That would do more than destroy her bruised and battered heart. It would destroy her soul.

  God. She sounded pathetic just thinking about it.

  But the familiar self-loathing soon shifted to numbness. And with a little convincing, she was able to assume her tough as nails, badass bitch armor.

  No one would know of the weakness deep inside.

  Chapter 35

  It took three days for Taryin to regain consciousness. Vaspara would have been fine if the blood witch had never recovered from creating her spell. But she had, and once again the captains had been called before the Battle Goddess.

  Sorac stood at Vaspara’s right shoulder; Bervicta at her left. Korsha and Ernya stood on the harpy’s other side. All of them studied the blood witch while they awaited the arrival of their goddess.

  They didn’t have long to wait. The Lady of Battles arrived in a swirl of skirts and the rattle of chains.

  “My witch, I am glad to see you’re awake. The other captains reported that you were successful with your spell, though, they couldn’t tell me its purpose.”

  “My Goddess, I think you will be pleased with my spell.” Taryin bowed gracefully, fully recovered. Apparently, she’d healed from what the Mother’s Sorceress had unleashed as well as from whatever toll her own dark magic’s cost had exacted.

  When she straightened from her bow, the witch drew herself to her full height. “My spell is one for spying. It’s a magic even a gargoyle will not sense.”

  That was an ambitious statement. Gargoyles didn’t miss much. They certainly would scent blood magic. Taryin must have enslaved some magic-rich creature or traded with an upper-level demon to complete her spell.

  The witch smiled at Vaspara as if she knew the succubus’ thoughts. Though it was more likely Taryin was just reading her expressions. Still, she tightened her mental barriers another notch.

  “I summoned a djinn.”

  “You what?!” The Battle Goddess shouted, nearly deafening her captains.

  “A djinn, my Goddess, is the only creature with magic that is similar enough to a gargoyle’s to hide my blood magic from their sharp noses. But fear not, I captured this djinn and trapped him in a vessel made in the Mortal Realm. He cannot escape swiftly. And once you are freed from the duality curse, you can carry him to one of the planets in the Mortal Realm, and safely release him there or simply leave him to free himself. In the meantime, I can siphon some of his power from the storage vessel and use that to fuel more spells.”

  Beside Vaspara, the harpy made a strangled sound. She didn’t blame Bervicta. A djinn. As far as she knew, there was less than ten left in all existence. Once there had been many more, but their numbers had dwindled over time as they were used in long ago w
ars, djinn pitted against djinn, forced to kill each other for the benefit of their temporary masters.

  Temporary because a djinn always found a way to escape his or her prison eventually. And when they did, they always leveled their master’s kingdom. Or the whole damn planet.

  Some speculated it was not revenge, but just that opening a portal to the Spirit Realm and having an uncontrolled amount of power from that plain mix with that of the Magic Realm always resulted in an explosive event.

  But the Avatars could travel between the realms and call spirit magic without blowing big holes in the universe. Didn’t that suggest a djinn could do so as well? If they wished.

  Likely they were just vengeful.

  That was part of the reason no one was foolish enough to attempt to summon a djinn anymore. The other reason was that as each djinn died, their power was transferred to their brothers and sisters, making each remaining djinn stronger.

  But that was a long-ago time before even the Battle Goddess had been chained to her temple.

  Now, the few remaining djinns dwelled in the Spirit Realm, safely out of reach. Or so Vaspara had believed. Somehow the witch had risked the old magic and summoned one of them forth.

  “Tell me more about your spell.” Their goddess’ chilling voice said she was still displeased that the blood witch had gone ahead with such a dangerous plan without consulting her.

  “The spell I created must first be carried into the gargoyles’ territory.” Taryin paused as if thinking. “I’d suggest a trusted lieutenant, one skilled enough to hold his own against a gargoyle and capable of landing a grievous wound on his opponent.”

  The Battle Goddess made a humming sound and signaled the witch to continue.

  “The moment the lieutenant dies, his death will trigger and feed the spell, so it is strong enough to invade the gargoyle who landed the death blow. The gargoyle will lose consciousness and turn to stone while the spell melds with his spirit. When he wakes, he’ll just think it was a normal wound requiring their healing stone sleep.”