Island Shifters: Book 03 - An Oath of the Children

by Valerie Zambito

  “You have…had that promise, my love, since the first day…I met you.”

  * * * * *

  At dawn, Samara strode into the mayor’s estate surrounded by Emile and a contingent of Battlearms. She did not fully trust the Massans’ offer of surrender and had to be prepared to act should it turn out to be an ambush.

  “Give me your sword,” she demanded of the Battlearm to her right. The fighter hesitated, but then removed his weapon from the scabbard on his hip and handed it to her hilt first.

  As soon as her fingers encircled the leather grip, she felt more at ease, but she was not sure why. The more she learned about the capabilities of these Massan shifters, the more she realized just how useless their weapons were. Until they could get inside the shifters’ magical defenses, all the swords in the world could not stop their destructive powers.

  That was precisely why this sudden surrender was so suspect.

  The doors to the ballroom stood open and she stepped inside cautiously. All of the Massans that had previously been locked in the cellar and the young royal shifters that had caused so much damage to her troops were sitting casually around the walls of the ballroom.

  “Who will speak for you?” she asked the assembled Massans.

  The infuriating young Prince with the golden eyes stood up from his position on the floor. “I will.”

  Samara narrowed her eyes. She thought it would be the other Prince who took the lead. He seemed the more political and outspoken of the two.

  “What is this nonsense about a surrender?”

  “It is not nonsense. We are surrendering to the Ellvinians.”

  “Why would you do such a thing when you have access to the magic you possess?”

  Kane shrugged. “Our magic is not limitless. We cannot stand against your numbers forever. We have decided to surrender now before more innocent people are harmed.”

  “I see.”

  “I would ask for one concession, however.”

  Of course. “What would that be?”

  “Let the citizens you are holding hostage go free. They are not soldiers. They are not magic users. As such, they hold no negotiating value for you. Let them go.”

  She laughed. “So, they can go and summon additional help for you? I don’t think so.”

  “I am a Prince of Iserlohn, Lady Samara! You hold royal members of Deepstone and Haventhal as well! Help will come whether you are prepared for it or not. By your actions, I am assuming you mean to occupy Northfort for some time. Having royal children in your possession will help your cause.”

  “And, these royal children will go meekly along with all we say? I am finding that very hard to believe.”

  “What other choice do we have in order to avoid war?” He pulled down the shirt at his neck. “See this tattoo? Its presence on my neck demands that I protect the people of Massa. Inviting war would be contrary to that purpose, and I am confident the Kings will see it the same way.”

  Samara considered the Prince’s words for several long moments. It made sense to go along, she finally decided. What were the citizens to her anyway except more mouths to feed? Still, if innocent Massans were what kept the shifters in line, she had to keep some of them around. She lifted a hand. “Free the prisoners.” Several fighters ran from the room to comply with her order. “But, all these here in the estate will stay.”

  “As you say, Lady Samara,” Kane said, bowing his head. “Now, that I am your prisoner, maybe you will feel inclined to explain your hostile actions against my island. We would have given you all the wormwood plants you required if you simply asked.”

  She waggled a finger at him. “Ah, but the road to war is never as simple as that, young Prince. It is complex and winding and full of forks. Survival, greed, censure, addiction. These are but some of the factors that set the Ellvinians on this path, but I find now I can add another to the list.”

  “What would that be?”

  “Retribution.” Samara put a hand to her chin and began to circle the room. “You see I have a special concession of my own, Prince.”

  She noticed that Prince Kane moved his body to keep her in his sight at all times. She also remembered his skill at defeating the Battlearms in this very room and knew she could never let her guard down or underestimate this deadly young man.

  “Yes? What concession can I offer you, Lady Samara?”

  Samara stopped right in front of the little Elf with the silver hair and pointed her sword at the girl’s chest. “This Elf killed my friend, Chandal. I demand nothing less than her death in return.”

  * * * * *

  Kane’s hand shot out and grabbed Samara’s wrist, stopping the sword that hovered inches from Izzy’s chest.

  Every Ellvinian in the room unsheathed his sword.

  Samara’s eyes blazed with fury. “I will have her blood, Prince. I demand it!”

  “She is a child!” Kane retorted forcefully. “Chandal deserved to die for what he tried to do to her.”

  Samara tried to yank her sword arm from his grasp, but he held it firm. “I gave you the prisoners,” she spit at him. “They are being freed as we speak. You will give me the life of this child. It will serve as a necessary reminder to the Massans of what will happen if they dare try to raise a hand to an Ellvinian again.”

  “Lady Samara—”

  “All those lives for this one life, Prince! It is not so much to ask!” she screamed, trying to jab her sword toward Izzy once again. “Think on it. Otherwise, our deal is off. I can get those hostages back with very little effort!”

  Kane felt hot breath on the back of his neck. “Let go of her.”

  He turned. It was Emile.

  Kane glared at the tall Ellvinian for a long moment before finally releasing Samara’s wrist. He moved toward the center of the room. “If you must do it, I cannot be witness.”

  Samara eyed him. “Very well, go hide in a corner if you must, but justice will be served here today.”

  Kane made his way to the door grateful that all eyes were on Samara and what she was about to do. He took full advantage of the inattention of the Battlearms and summoned his magic to create a replica right before he slipped outside.

  While Kane made his way toward the kitchens, the replica turned back to the scene unfolding in the ballroom and he watched through its eyes.

  Samara stood over Izzy ready to mete out the death she deemed just, but Emile put his hand on her arm and whispered in her ear. Whatever he said made her angry. With a resigned shake of his head, Emile brushed by the replica as he also left the ballroom.

  Samara looked around at all of the Massans. “Let it be known that the death of a child does not please me, but I cannot allow her murderous act to go unpunished.” The Eyereader turned to Izzy, brought her arm back and thrust the sword directly into her chest.

  When the sword did not bite into flesh as she had anticipated, the Ellvinian woman spun completely around, lost her balance and fell back into the crowd with a shriek. The moment her body made contact with the illusion of the seated Massans, it winked out of existence.

  Samara looked around wildly at the empty room. “Somebody bring me that boy’s head! Now!”

  CHAPTER 28

  DARK LEGACY

  Kellan frantically waved the prisoners toward the outer gates. “Hurry! Over here!”

  As soon as their frightened eyes recognized him, they ran with every bit of energy they could muster. Women hiked up skirts and men scooped up children. Older adults wobbled as fast as they could toward safety.

  The Ellvinians escorting them looked on in confusion. With orders to deliver the prisoners to the gates, they seemed unsure about the sudden frenzied behavior of the Massans.

  Jala, Reilly, and Izzy and some of the servants from the mayor’s estate ran out to help those struggling to make it. Poor Digby leaned against the wall, breathing heavy. Unlike Reilly, the subterranean watershifter could not be out of the water for long periods of time. Kellan tried to talk him into leavin
g, but he refused.

  “Hurry!” Kellan shouted again, not sure how long Kane’s ploy would keep the Ellvinians in the ballroom occupied.

  He watched one of the fighters race back through the streets toward the mayor’s estate, no doubt to report the odd behavior he witnessed. It did not matter. The Ellvinians would come sooner or later. Kellan’s only real hope was to get as many innocents as possible through the gates before that happened.

  When the first Massan family ducked under the curtain wall, Kellan sighed in relief. One by one, the people of Northfort filed out of the city and hurried toward the relative safety of the Grayan Forest beyond.

  But, no matter how fast they moved, the line just seemed to continue to grow longer. There had to be at least three hundred people or more. Quite a bit more than Kellan anticipated. They were never going to make it.

  Come on! He urged silently while keeping an eye out for Kane. Then, he thought of a better way to see if his brother had made it out. “Keep them moving!” he screamed to Gregor and Haiden and sprinted to the curved stairs cut into the outer wall and led to a small gatehouse at the top. From there, he would be able to see back along the main thoroughfare toward the wharf. Taking the steps two at a time, he raced up as fast as he could with Maks following closely behind. At the top, he pushed through the gatehouse door, crossed the narrow walkway, and leaned out over the parapet.

  Kellan felt like a punch had just been delivered to his stomach and it left him winded. Dark-haired Elves flowed through the winding streets of the city toward the gates. Light and lithe, they were coming on fast.

  * * * * *

  Beck pressed his lips to Kiernan’s forehead. “I’m fine.”

  She leaned back to look at him. “Fine? By all rights, you should be dead right now. I still can’t believe I have you back.”

  “Well, I am not dead and we have some friends that need our help.”

  She snuggled back into his chest. “Fine, but promise me something.”

  He stroked the back of her long hair. “Anything.”

  “No more of these goodwill ventures for a while. I would like to stay at home where I know my family is safe.”

  He closed his eyes tight against the pure elation of having his wife back in his arms. “You know how powerless I am to refuse any of your requests, Kiernan Atlan,” he told her huskily.

  “Good,” she murmured contentedly.

  A polite cough at the cave entrance drew Beck’s attention. It was one of the Ellvinian fighters that helped carry him to safety. While he was healing, he heard the Elf offer some measure of comfort to Kiernan.

  Beck gently put Kiernan aside and gestured the Ellvinian inside. “You have my eternal gratitude, sir, that, unlike me, you are able to resist the requests of my wife.”

  The Ellvinian’s face colored. “She was not in her right mind, Master…?”

  “Beck Atlan. Please call me Beck and this is Kiernan.”

  The dark Elf nodded. “I am Alric and the other fighter is Yurek.”

  “Alric, do you know why your Premier would want to harm us when we have come to help the Ellvinians?”

  He was silent for a moment and then said, “I think I do. Why don’t you sit and I will tell you what I know.”

  Beck and Kiernan sat cross-legged on the cave floor while Alric perched on a large piece of volcanic rock. “What do you know of my people?”

  Beck shrugged. “From what I gathered at the feast by talking to several guests there, your ambassador, Chandal, lied to us. The wormwood plants the Ellvinians so desperately need are not for medicinal purposes at all. They are for sustenance.”

  Kiernan looked at him with raised eyebrows.

  “It is true,” Alric confirmed. “We must have the blood nectar in the plants to survive. We mix the nectar and other ingredients and prepare a draught that must be ingested or we will become very ill and eventually die.”

  “I did not realize the plants were so critical to your survival,” Kiernan commented.

  “Aye, they are. In the past ten years or so, our own natural resource of wormwood was infested with a Titsu bug that destroyed almost all of our crops. As a result, the draught has become more difficult to obtain for every Ellvinian on the island. The Premier and the Seconds created eligibility lists to ration out the increasingly meager provisions, but it soon became apparent that only those who could buy their way onto the lists would receive the draught. The poor started dying off in staggering numbers.”

  “That is terrible,” Kiernan said softly in shock.

  “Aye, it has been a very difficult time for Ellvinians.”

  “But, we were bringing a new supply of wormwood plants and shoots here to the island. What would make the Premier act in such a way to people who are basically saving the lives of his people?”

  Alric looked down. “Centuries ago, before the Ellvinians found a way to survive on the wormwood plants, we…they drank human blood.”

  “Human blood?”

  The Elf looked back up and met their eyes squarely. “More specifically, the blood of magic users. It is an intoxicating and life-sustaining elixir to the Ellvinian.” His eyelids reduced to slits. “I can smell your magic where you sit and can only imagine what it would be like to drink it.”

  Beck moved his body closer to Kiernan. The implication was hard to dismiss. “So, in order to drink the blood of a human, you would have to kill them in the process?” Beck thought of the watershifters the Premier admitted to killing.

  The dark Elf shook his head vigorously. “No, not necessarily. Humans make more blood every day. You can keep a person alive for a long time if…”

  “If what?”

  “If you do not become too greedy.”

  Kiernan stood up. “This is very hard to believe. Is the Premier after our blood?”

  “Based on rumors I have heard, I am assuming those are his plans, but he does not share that kind of intelligence with the fighters.” He hesitated again. “But, we hear things. We talk.”

  “What more can you tell me?”

  Alric stood and began to pace the small confines of the cave. “The process for extracting magical blood has not been in practice for many, many years. It is said that our ancestors had…well, they had fangs for this purpose.”

  “Fangs?”

  “Aye, fangs that allowed Ellvinians to not only drink the blood, but to siphon the magic. Just killing a magic user and drinking their blood is not sufficient. You have to have a way to draw out the magic.”

  “And, now Ellvinians no longer have these fangs?”

  “No, as magic users became extinct and the wormwood solution became available, this physical trait was bred out of the Ellvinians.”

  “Then, how does the Premier propose to extract the magic from our blood?”

  “He will use the Vypir.” Alric held his hand up to indicate that he already knew what Beck’s obvious next question would be. “The Vypir is a by-product of the experiments of the Mages of old and possesses the requisite fangs. When the capability began to breed out of Ellvinians, the Mages turned to the dark arts to try and recreate it. That is how the Vypir came to be.”

  “So, what is this Vypir? What are its organic roots?”

  “It used to be a Mage,” Alric replied, nervously picking at the pieces of volcanic rock on one of the walls. “The last experiment gone wrong I guess you could say.”

  “Used to be a Mage? What is it now?”

  The Elf turned to look over his shoulder. “A beast.”

  Beck clamored to his feet at the word he had dreaded to hear for over a decade. The word that filled his every nightmare. “Where is this beast? I must destroy it at once!”

  “Beck, what is the matter?” Kiernan asked anxiously.

  “We have to go after it!”

  “It’s missing,” Alric told him.

  “Missing?”

  “Ever since Emile left with the Battlearms to go to Massa—”

  “What? The Premier sent fighters
to Massa?”

  “Aye, I thought you knew.”

  Beck’s face paled. “I think I now know where your Vypir is.”

  Kiernan grabbed his arm. “What is going on?”

  “It is the time, Kiernan! The time the Oracle prophesized about fifteen years ago.”

  She gasped in shock. “How do you know?”

  He never told her about the beast because he did not want to subject her to years of nightmares about a monster coming to the island. “The signs are there. This Vypir is in Massa, Kiernan, I’m sure of it. Come on! We have to get the others and get back to the ship.” Beck grabbed Kiernan’s hand and sprinted out of the cave.

  Alric quickly took the lead. “Follow me.”

  It was much easier to run down the hill from the caves than it had been going up.

  “What are we going to do, Beck?” Kiernan asked. “It will take time to ask around and find out where they are holding Rogan, Airron, Janin and Melania.”

  “I am not in the mood for subtle, Kiernan.”

  She glanced at her husband’s profile and almost stumbled. She had never seen him look so determined—so deadly. “So…so, you are going to just barge right into the city and demand to be told where they are?”

  He lifted one edge of his lip, but Kiernan was not sure if it was a smile or a snarl. “That is exactly what I plan to do, and Highworld help any Ellvinian that stands in my way.”

  CHAPTER 29

  AN ARROW THROUGH THE BACK

  Kiernan noticed Yurek look back uneasily at Beck’s uncompromising words. Not for the first time since they arrived on Ellvin, her fingers twitched over her shoulder to reach for the sword of Iserlohn. “I need a sword,” she whispered to Beck.

  “I’ll get you one.”

  Kiernan nodded and continued down the hill after the men. After what seemed like hours, they burst into the clearing where the Premier had them tied to stakes the evening before.