Enchanted Bookstore Legends (5-book complete epic fantasy romance box set)

by Marsha A. Moore

  “You’re tired. I know just the thing.” He stirred the pool of water with the tip of his staff. Its sapphire radiated blue light to all corners. “A warm bath will soothe the tiredness and aches. Give this a few minutes to heat through.”

  “That’s such a good idea, like a spa. My whole body is sore. Can we fix my gown? It’s badly ripped.” She fingered the tattered skirt.

  He ran a hand along her spine. “Yes. Let's get clean and comfortable first.”

  Preparing to disrobe, she reached into her pocket and withdrew its contents. The jade brooch glowed, being near its mate.

  He produced the matching gem, with more elaborate silverwork. “The lover’s jadestones. This is my gift to you, the ladies’ setting. Thank you for saving my life today. You were incredibly brave—I don’t know what to say.”

  She smiled. “I couldn’t let you die. I…I didn’t want to lose you.” She wanted to tell him she loved him, wanted to spend her life with him, but the words stuck in her throat. She grew angry with herself for not being able to speak her heart. Instead, she started a safer topic. “Is this what the seer on the Island of Lumen gave you?”

  He nodded. “Yes. Twenty-five years ago, I sought his counsel, just after I met you. There was something about you, even as a ten-year-old girl, which connected deeply to me. Because I read no magic in our bond, I needed his vision. He told me what you heard today, that you and I were destined to hold each other’s souls. He predicted I’d find you again, years later, when the time was right.” Cullen moved his hand to rest on the rock and caressed her hip. “Too many years passed. I came upon your lost copy of the Book of Dragonspeir in a local bazaar, and assumed both the magic and our bond had been broken. I gave up hope.”

  “Then this jadestone is for you.” She extended it to him. “I wish I’d known his prediction years ago and saved myself so much heartache with a bad marriage.”

  He accepted the pin and attached it to the collar of his cloak. “I expect you needed to endure hardship to appreciate something else. There are reasons for everything that passes in our lives. There must be a purpose for why my mind is so befuddled with thoughts of you, I can’t call my power enough to protect you as I should.” He met her gaze. “I failed you in the Sea of Cogadh, and you were badly hurt, yet you still saved me. Why? You are different than others I’ve known.”

  Lyra bit her lower lip, willing the word “love” to form on her tongue. “You give me much more than your magic. I hope I give you the same in return. Maybe your magic is bound so mine will grow.”

  He responded with a firm tone. “Successful or not, it is my duty, not yours, to keep you from harm.” He dropped his eyes to the steaming water. After a moment, he glanced at her. “And because I love you, I would gladly give my life to do so.” His voice cracked and his eyes shined with moisture. He picked up her gemstones. “Let me assemble your gifts, so you won’t lose them.” He waved over the heliodor and gave it a simple setting with a bail, then attached it to one of the two clasps on the brooch. He returned it to her. “Try your scrying stone again while I apply more healing to your injuries.”

  “You think I can concentrate, actually empty my mind, while your hands move all over me?” She laughed.

  He grinned. “I’m glad you can’t. You may practice without my distraction, but not for long, so get busy.” He moved to another rock and passed his staff through the water. Tiny wisps of steam rose from its surface.

  She first focused on the stream and let her mind drift until it stilled. Then, she gazed at the golden gem. A star of light glinted wide across its surface, and a scene appeared in her mind’s eye. She savored the divination until it faded, then looked up at Cullen, still stirring the water, His toned shoulder muscles contracted under the clinging white shirt. “My first vision! It was wonderful.”

  “Do you care to share?” He studied her face.

  She stepped to him. “It’s easier to show you.” She untied and loosened the lacing of her bodice.

  His eyes widened and followed her every move. “No visualization could ever be better.”

  She unzipped the gown and pulled out one arm and then the other.

  He reached up, took hold of the sides of the dress, and dropped it down.

  Only her undergarments remained. She removed the strapless slip, letting it flutter onto the gown at her feet. She reached for the edge of her panties, but he was quicker.

  His hands slid under the elastic at her hips and slid them past her knees. As he rose, his lips encircled one of her nipples, puckered firm in anticipation of his touch. He suckled hard, and she melted, running a hand through the long waves of his hair. Squeezing that breast with his hand, he moved to taste the other. She moaned as he sucked and teased the nipple gently with his teeth into a tight pebble. Goosebumps rose along her skin and she shivered.

  “I don’t want you to get cold. Here, hold my arm and step into the hot pool.” He rose to aid her.

  She didn’t feel cold. That shiver came from his touch. Kicking off her shoes, she lowered into the luxurious water, perfumed with jasmine and warmed to near body temperature. Little more than waist deep, she folded to enjoy it up to her chin. The water lily bells sounded a gentle melody to welcome her. The tall rushes and drooping limbs hid her view of the other guides.

  As he watched her naked form play in the water, desire sparked Cullen’s eyes. He removed his soiled poet’s shirt. The firm muscles of his chest and toned abs begged to be touched.

  Her body quivered as her eyes followed the pattern of hair from a patch on his chest down a light trail to the prominent bulge in his pants. She wanted to be his.

  He quickly pulled off his remaining clothes. Her heart raced, seeing him aroused and wanting her. He dropped beside her and drew her up to stand close. His lips pressed onto hers, and his hands caressed the curves of her hips.

  She moved against him, thrilling at the sensation of his flesh from head to toe next to hers. Excitement rushed over her as he pushed against her thigh. She thrust her tongue into his mouth. He tasted of salt from the skin of her breasts.

  In response, he nipped and sucked her tongue, before probing her mouth in a deep, lingering kiss. He cupped her rounded bottom in his hands and pulled her tighter against him.

  Heat raged in her pelvis, and she ground against him for several minutes. She clutched his muscled shoulders.

  She needed him. She arched her back and moaned. Burning, she wanted more.

  He grabbed her hips and pulled her hard onto him.

  When release crashed over them, she lay back into the bank, smiling and tired. He held her waist by one arm and leaned sideways against the edge.

  On the opposite bank, the paired jadestones glowed with a new brilliance.

  Chapter Twenty-Two: At the Geminus Tree

  In the dim light of early dawn, Lyra awoke with Cullen’s hands methodically moving over her body, healing injuries. His magic loosened the stiffness in her damaged muscles and joints. After he finished with her left leg, she stretched it out long, enjoying freedom without pain and tension. If only she could do the same for him.

  He whispered, “Good morning, my Little Butterfly. Did you sleep well?”

  Groggy, she rubbed her eyes and kicked aside woolen blankets he conjured last night to keep them warm. The cool air raced over her skin, protected only by her thin slip. She grabbed back one cover. “Yes, with a wonderful partner to snuggle against.”

  He smiled, passing his hands to another limb. “Does that mean you intend to continue the quest? I never found time to ask about your decision. I will respect whatever you choose. If you wish to leave, I will get you safely out.”

  She shook her head. Couldn’t he read her thoughts, or was he just teasing? His face looked like he meant the question sincerely. After nearly drowning, the pain of his injuries must have kept him from reading her emotions. She sighed. Just because he was a grand wizard didn’t mean he was more sensitive than the average male if he didn’t use his powers.
She’d grown accustomed to him knowing what she felt; to actually say her feelings now felt awkward.

  Again, words from her heart would not form on her tongue, but they needed to be said. She took a deep breath. “You risked your life to save Noba, a simple familiar. You put yourself in jeopardy because you cared for him. After I saw how much you cared, loved, put yourself aside, nothing mattered more than saving you.” She blinked back the film of moisture covering her eyes. “I will go on. I can’t turn away and chance leaving you to die when this world falls.” She stopped short, tears rolling down her cheeks, still unable to tell him she loved him. Cursed divorce kept her from freely giving her heart.

  For a while, he stared into her eyes.

  Was he reading her mind? Did he know that she loved him? That was her hope, since the words continued to fail her.

  He reached out and held her tight. “I will do the same for you. I want you with me, always.” After a few silent moments, he pulled away.

  Did he need to hear her say she loved him? If so, reality did matter to a wizard. If only she could free her heart.

  “We need to get some breakfast for everyone and be ready. The Guardian of the Water and his aide will soon be here. I already repaired your gown.”

  She thanked him and dressed quickly. Her thoughts shifted to the dangerous tasks ahead.

  ***

  “Good day to you all,” called the Tortoise.

  Cullen pointed him to the opening in the ward, and the Guardian navigated under heavy limbs to enter.

  Two ladies followed, Mimio and another, unfamiliar to Lyra.

  She bowed to them. While the sorceress treated Cullen’s injuries, Lyra studied the newcomer. A chill ran down her spine, which gave a decided ill impression of the woman. She wore a gray cloak with a white fur collar. Her long gray hair coiled into spiraling horns on either side of her head. Between the crests of those horns, draped along her forehead, hung strings of gems, which gleamed red in shadow and purple when the lady moved into light. How curious; what did those changing colors indicate about her allegiance? In her hand she held a red bird, the shape of a kite, with a topknot and sweeping swallowtail. On second glance the bird also shone purple. Its feathers iridesced a violet hue.

  “Allow me to introduce Glisla and her companion. She will be your new guide, appointed by Eburscon, to aid your search for the Black Dragon,” the Tortoise said.

  That news made Lyra choke as she swallowed. She didn’t want any help from the alchemist. She cast an emotion-charged look at Cullen.

  After giving a slight turn to his staff, he spoke silently into her mind. “I don’t know her. I sense your apprehension and will question this decision.” He spoke aloud, “I appreciate your offer, Glisla.” He nodded to the woman and then continued, “But, I think we can do well enough finding our way with the guides we have. Tama and the squirrels are well-trained to scout a path, their purpose on this journey.”

  She replied in a deep, raspy voice. “You may, but I will make faster route.”

  The Tortoise stepped closer. “Sire Drake, put aside your differences with our alchemist. He works closely with Glisla’s tribe, the Qumeli. He has my trust on this matter.”

  Cullen shrugged. “Fine. I defer to our most venerable Guardian.” He pulled his traveling cloak around him, secured it with the jade clasp, and helped Lyra with hers. “Let’s be off,” he declared, slashing the air with the sapphire tip of his staff. Blue sparks shot ahead and crackled. “Solvo!” The ward dissolved. He breezed through and departed without a bow to either the Guardian or his aide. He swiftly located the main path.

  Lyra gave a quick bow to them and hurried to catch up with Cullen, not wanting to befriend the new guide.

  Kenzo sailed beside. “Is there anything I can do, Master?”

  “Yes. Fly on ahead and check for safety around the Geminus tree.”

  “Will do.” With one mighty down stroke, he sailed high above the tree line and out of sight.

  “What is the Geminus tree?” Lyra asked.

  “It is the demarcation, in the Steppe of Ora, between the forces of good and evil in Dragonspeir. The tree appears double; one side stands in sunlight and the other in desolate shadow.

  “But, doesn’t the line change since the Dark Realm is invading?”

  “Yes, it does, and another tree gains the distinct title.”

  They marched for some time in silence along the trail, wide enough to be a cart path. Tiny pairs of eyes peeked out from shadows of the forest. The trees moved in strange ways, much like Cranewort, and bent limbs to follow their interest or pleasure. A power bolt snapped directly behind her and caused Lyra to jump. A bough lay severed on the ground at her heels.

  “Tree would have snatched you,” Glisla said in a clipped tone as she walked on past. “That’s why trail is wide. Stay safer in middle.”

  “Thank you,” Lyra replied. Compelled to offer some politeness, she asked, “What part of Dragonspeir do you call home?”

  “Come from mountains. Range where Imperial Dragon has lair. I belong to Qumeli people, traveling from place to place, camp to camp, herding goats.”

  This reminded Lyra of nomadic gypsy cultures. “Do you predict fortunes?”

  The woman’s face lit up. “Ah, yes. We’re readers—stars, cards, palms, tea leaves.”

  “Have you read my future?”

  Glisla shook her arm, and the kite flew to perch on one of her horns. With her hands now free, the guide pointed at the sky with thin fingers, heavily laden with rings and long, claw-like nails. “Says Scribe will struggle, but leave great mark upon this land.”

  Lyra heard these same comments from many. But, she didn’t feel great or remarkable or even altruistic. She wanted to save Cullen, and uphold her family responsibilities to Brigid, which meant saving Dragonspeir. She didn’t deserve such adulation.

  After nearly half an hour, the mighty wings of the tiger owl appeared over the treetops. She increased her pace to get beside him as he spoke to his master.

  In a hushed voice, Kenzo reported, “Both good and evil are present. In the forest shadows, I detected a green dragon, but in the air…the Head Guardian himself, surrounded by an assemblage of fliers.”

  Lyra shook. The green might attempt to harm her. But the Imperial Dragon’s wrath would likely be as fierce. He would surely judge her more accurately than Glisla and reprimand the selfishness of her goals.

  Cullen paused as though he read her unrest and wrapped an arm around her shoulder.

  Within ten minutes, they traveled from the forest into an immense plain, which was dotted with widely-spaced, large, old trees. Near the center, she spotted the Geminus tree. Its branches stuck out on either side, horizontal and sturdy—one half in brilliant, periwinkle sun-filled skies, the other in dark gloom, lit only with a red tinge which crept over all shapes. Several dragons from both factions cruised above the vast plain, evil drakes and blue sentries.

  “That forest is Silva Nocens. Greens are small, but nasty tempered and wicked to the bone,” Cullen explained as he pointed. “Be very careful. They are tricksters.”

  In the distant edge of the dense woods, Lyra barely made out the form of a green dragon. A breeze carried the foul odor of evil from that direction, making her nose wrinkle in disgust.

  When their band reached the Geminus tree, the discordance of powers caused the air to crackle with electricity. The treetop swayed wildly in a gust. Lyra looked up. A magnificent golden dragon sailed toward her, larger than any dragon she had seen. His translucent wings connected all along his body to the tip of his tail, like huge sails. It could only be the Imperial Dragon.

  She stood entranced by his vast golden aura trailing far behind him. His power reached inside her soul and connected to her new internal fire. In that instant, she gained insight into her purpose. Suddenly, she was one with the good of Dragonspeir, as strong as the bond with her family and the belief she could find happiness with Cullen. The three were inseparable in her spirit.
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  While lost in this revelation, something pushed her hard past the Geminus tree. She landed on her side in the bleak shadow world and stared back at Glisla, whose body and arms leaned forward from shoving her.

  “Lyra! Get up! Come to me!” Cullen shouted, holding his hand to her just inside the boundary.

  The Head Guardian let out a piercing screech.

  Something whooshed above her. “You’re my prize now, Scribe,” a huge green dragon snarled while his talons latched onto her waist.

  She screamed and writhed.

  Before it could even lift off, the Imperial Dragon came at full speed, tackling the beast half his size.

  Tossed free, she landed eighty feet farther within the dark land.

  The dragons wrestled between her and the Geminus tree. Fire and magma drakes circled her like vultures. In one swift bite, the Head Guardian bit cleanly through the neck of his opponent. The huge green head landed with a thud in front of Lyra, its spinal hornlets lodging in the soil. A stench of chlorine gas oozed from its blood.

  Her legs trembled and buckled as she attempted to stand. She could feel the heat of the drakes’ breath from above. She needed to get back over the boundary.

  The Imperial Dragon shot flame upward and scorched many to their deaths, but dozens more kept coming.

  Cullen ran to her side and put himself at risk. “Hold onto me.” He lifted her by her armpits and half dragged her back to the other side, her feet only occasionally hitting the ground.

  The golden dragon guarded them until they reached safety and quietly landed nearby. The drakes dared not cross and meet a regiment of enormous Alliance blue and silver dragons. The Head Guardian bowed the length of his entire neck to the ground before her.

  She, along with Cullen and all the guides, returned his gesture.

  The Imperial Dragon stood and spoke in a determined voice. “Adalyra, I am even more certain, after assessing your power, you will serve the good of Dragonspeir like no Scribe before. Now, I must bestow upon you the final Guardian’s transference of power during the scribe’s journey. What I give will allow you, a being not born of Dragonspeir, to walk as an equal into the dark lands. Please kneel, my Scribe.”