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

by Marsha A. Moore

  “You see things?”

  “Things that are going to happen. They run away, and I try to follow but my legs won’t go fast enough,” she muttered, her nose stuffy with welled up tears.

  Lyra glanced up at the tiger owl, who nodded an affirmation of the facts. She pulled the girl into a close embrace. “Kessa, you have a special gift. No one else has that gift, and they don’t understand. Your talent was given to you from your great gramaema. You and I are alike. I’m the Scribe because my grandmother five generations back gave me her ability. At first it frightened me. I didn’t understand her gift, but now I’m so very proud she shared it with me.” Tears welled into her eyes as she rubbed the girl’s thin shoulder.

  Kessa opened her arms wide and returned the embrace. “You…you’re the Scribe because of her gift? Everyone loves you. No one likes me…except Kenzo and Maema.”

  “And me,” Lyra added. She pushed wet, matted hair from the child’s tear-soaked face. “If you learn to use your talent, you too will become capable of helping many people. You’ll have lots of friends.”

  “Really?” She looked into Lyra’s face, her eyes clearing into the green of a tropical sea.

  Lyra nodded. “I could use your help. If I can save the Alliance from the Black Dragon, everyone here will be so happy with both of us. Will you assist me?”

  Kessa nodded, and her face lit with a grin.

  The tiger owl fidgeted on his perch and clacked his beak. “Lyra.”

  Certain that there was no danger in the lair’s kitchen, she ignored him and focused on the girl. “Good. I need you to look into my future and tell me if I’ll be able to control the—”

  “What is this? Leave my kinchin be!” Nillea shouted from the doorway. “You’re filling her head with bad notions.” She bustled to them and yanked the child away by a strong grip under her armpit. “Don’t you listen to her. The best for you is to stay with me and learn an honest trade like cooking. Come along, Kessa.”

  “Nillea, your daughter has the rare gift of seeing,” Lyra called after the woman. “With training, she could help so many people.”

  The woman glared over her shoulder at Lyra while escorting her daughter to the door. “I thank you for letting us stay here in the lair. We’ve paid plenty in turn for your favor.” Nillea paused at the doorway, raised her chin into the air, and spat out each word. “She needs no part of helping you. You are the Scribe. You have your job to do and don’t need my Kessa.” She made an abrupt turn and swept the child into the cooking area.

  Kenzo shrugged and met Lyra’s gaze. “I tried to warn you.”

  “Yes, you did.” She sighed and slumped against a chair leg. “I really need Kessa’s help. You’ve done well making friends with her. She likes you. Did you learn anything?”

  “Not much. I did learn that she wasn’t crippled at birth. There was some accident. She’s very sensitive about whatever happened and her handicap.”

  “That’s sad but might help us understand her and her mother’s reactions.” Lyra twisted the end of her braid. “Does Kessa have brothers and sisters? And are they magicals?”

  “She does have one of each, an older brother and younger sister. She said they won’t play hide and seek with her because she always knows where they’re going to hide. The game was harder with me because—”

  “Because of your magic, making you abnormally fast.” Lyra smiled and shook her head. “That’s just what she needs—to be challenged to use her gift more quickly. With training, I think she can be like her great grandmother.”

  “Who was she?”

  “The Alliance’s last seer—Heilia.”

  “Wow!” Kenzo exclaimed, then lowered his voice. “You haven’t heard the tales told about her?”

  Lyra shook her head.

  “She was incredibly powerful with her magic but also courageous and strong-willed. Lived a fiercely individual life, yet all loved her.”

  Lyra twisted the tail of her hair into a knot. “I need her help. I’m missing a few important clues.” She gripped the chair with a white-knuckled hand and rose.

  He flew to the back of the chair where she stood and reached a wing tip to her forearm. “I’ll keep working to find out why Kessa’s mother is opposed to her gift.”

  “Thanks. I’m glad for your help with this. I didn’t make a good impression on Nillea.”

  “But Kessa liked you. Don’t give up.”

  She touched his wing, then headed toward the door. Checking the preparation area, she was relieved to find Nillea absent.

  ***

  Settled again on the same tired-looking library cushion, Lyra forced herself to focus on her studies. The missing answer nagged her. Maybe she’d not read the clues carefully enough. She paged back through the scene and let her eyes float over the words. She ignored the content, taking in just the hidden magic—all the nuances, feelings, emotions, and details that Elisabeth had experienced. Finding nothing more, Lyra propped on an elbow and arranged her notebooks. She created a heading on a clean page for the next scene—the one she dreaded. She gave a frustrated look to the Tortoise, who was seating himself across from her.

  He nodded. “I know. This will be difficult for you. I’m here and so is Mimio.” He waved a front foot to his assistant as she joined them with a cup of tea.

  “Thank you kindly for the tea tray. I’m pleased you took time to refresh yourself. I’m ready whenever you both are.” She blew across the cup and took a sip, fixing her eyes on Lyra.

  “We need to figure out what happened to that ruby. I hope Elisabeth left enough clues.” Lyra lowered her head and located the start of the scene where the couple traveled out of the tunnels.

  We journeyed for a long time. How long I had no idea, owing to the confusion of power in my mind. I’d lost much sensory input. My focus revolved around my union with the Emtori Ruby. Garrett’s aura, radiating from his heart, from his love, did register. One pure emotion—trust in our love—pulsed like a starburst amid the fire in my mind. Looking back, I was thankful for that much, or I’d have been lost. Scarcely little else made any impact. My body floated after him without any perceived motion of my muscles.

  The tunnel grew narrower, forcing us to bend low to pass. My aura was so vast, it bent to accommodate the circuitous turns.

  Garrett waited for me to wind the last crimson-gold threads around a tight curve. When he turned back, his gaze infused coolness into the lovers’ jadestone at the base of my throat. In response, his shimmered with a soft green glow. “We’re in a network of tree roots belonging to the mighty rowan. They’re protectors of the good who travel to other realms.” He paused to consult his tiger eye pendant, holding it at arm’s length ahead. “I can see through this tangle.” He pointed to the right. “This way lies the realm of Cerid’s Crux—a desert wasteland to the west of the Dark Realm. We will be safe there. Only nomads course that direction.”

  His gaze channeled our bond to me; calmness spread throughout my lungs and windpipe. The sensation of wind rushing deeper into my chest made me cough and realize I might control my vocals. I stepped closer to feel the strength of our love balancing the raging fire within. “I…want to leave the ruby there. Cannot live this way,” I sputtered.

  He nodded and reached to take my hand.

  I jerked away, fearing my fire would bring him harm like before. I motioned to continue forward.

  After another long trek, we emerged into the blinding sunlight. I dropped onto my stomach, protecting myself and hiding my eyes from the burning ball. The heat of the ruby pressed against my side. It boiled even hotter, fueled by the sun’s warmth. I worked a hand to my chest and ripped my tunic open at the neck, panting for coolness. My limited vision revealed the parched tan ground, which was riddled with criss-crossing cracks and deeper fissures. The relentless sun had burned the blue from the sky, leaving it pale and tired.

  Garrett took a stance between me and the searing rays.

  I tilted my head back, absorbing the tranquil c
ooling he imparted to my jadestone.

  “Can you stand? We need to traverse this boundary in a southerly direction until we make connection with Alliance territory.” Again, he offered his hand, and I waved him away.

  In his shadow, I managed to wobble my prone legs underneath me. I rose and followed his wispy silver shape, stepping down pathways over three times our height into one of the fissures.

  “This is a maze, known best to the nomads—the Qumeli tribe. I’ll employ the tiger eye to see through the walls until I can identify signs of verdant growth in our territory.” He set our course, making turn after turn that rendered my mind dizzy.

  Brief moments of shade provided by the angle of the fissure sidewalls gave some relief from the growing heat within me. When we stayed a lengthy straight course without that aid, the ruby burned my flesh. I gathered layers of my dress to hold it away from me. My stomach churned with fire. Its contents bubbled into my throat, and I wretched repeatedly. I touched fingers to my lips and felt raw blisters. “Wait,” I begged him to stop. “Need to leave this behind.” I lifted the fabric-covered mass. “Hide it somewhere…can’t go on.”

  He began to reach out to help, then cursed the power in my body that would harm him. He winced at my appearance and jerked back. “Let’s travel a short distance off this course, in case nomads frequent the connector between lands. Only a little way. We’ll bury it there, locked within an enchantment. In this wasteland, leaving it is as good as destroying it.” As we walked along the narrow path, he kept me at his side the entire time.

  My weak muscles collapsed under me. The ruby’s aura took control, sucking me dry as the desert air. The gem fed on my life force.

  Garrett shielded me with his body while he dug into the wall, using both his knife and a rock.

  I raised my torso and clawed with my hands, desperate to make a tomb for the ruby, such that it wouldn’t be found. This remote land seemed devoid of people, of any animal inhabitants. For a wanderer to stumble upon this site through the labyrinth seemed unlikely. Only the Staurolite, lost somewhere else in this impenetrable desert—an equally impossible find—could point to the keystone.

  “Stay back. We’ve broken the surface, and I should now be able to finish more easily.” Garrett held his palm steady above the depression and recited an incantation. Straight down, our indent transformed into a tunnel more than an arm’s length in depth.

  Making haste, I held the ruby above the opening. I gritted my teeth to pry my fingers off its facets. It clung to my palm. I poured my aura into my arm, shaking my shoulder with all the force I could muster.

  The gem gave way and dropped, meeting the bottom of the hole with a tremendous thud. The noise reverberated along the walls of the cavernous fissure.

  “I’ll enchant the encasement, so anyone lacking power that matches this keystone won’t be able to penetrate.” He waved his hand again and the hole filled with an amalgam of dry earth and his silvery aura.

  A chilling shriek answered the resounding noises of the ruby. A dark dragon hung almost motionless in the air above us. Unlike the Black Dragon, its frame, lean and lanky with sinuous muscles, oscillated in the air, and no aura surrounded it. Only its eyes displayed traces of magic, glowing a horrific hue of sanguine. It cast a black shadow cast over us. It extinguished all light, leaving us in near total darkness.

  The ruby pleaded to me from its grave—

  Lyra lifted both of her hands and cradled her head, breathing deeply. She surveyed the page before her. “I can’t continue reading aloud. It’s too painful.”

  Mimio pressed Lyra’s amulet against the skin of her throat.

  “I’ll paraphrase what else happened to the first Scribe.” Lyra continued to look down, not reading the words. Instead, she felt the vibrations of Elisabeth’s magic. Those told her everything she needed to know. “Obviously, that creature was a cimafa stealth dragon. It came after them to return the Emtori Ruby to the Dark Realm. The couple fought hard against the dragon. It took Garrett’s life with a single blow of its power, enough to kill any fully afflated magical.” Tremors passed through Lyra’s body, slurring her speech.

  After a few deep breaths, she continued. “The ruby called to Elisabeth to protect it from the cimafa, who was no match for its fire power like the Black Dragon leader. She couldn’t resist its call. She wormed her arm through the sand and touched it in its protected tomb. The beast tried in vain to claim the gem, but Garrett’s enchantment held. Elisabeth’s rage over Garrett’s death unbalanced her composure. The ruby commanded her to protect it with a massive powerball that killed the cimafa. With the battle over, she let go of the keystone. She lamented the cimafa hadn’t just taken Garrett’s aura, so she might have somehow used the ruby to regain it. Then she felt terribly alone. There were no other dragons, no sounds, no calls from the ruby, no wind, nothing. Only an enormous grief that shook Elisabeth’s body.”

  Mimio brought Lyra’s head against her shoulder and held her close.

  Silence filled the room, but Lyra’s mind whirled with frightening images her ancestor had endured.

  “What became of Elisabeth?” the Tortoise asked with a soft voice.

  Lyra swallowed hard. “She searched for several days for the Staurolite, knowing it was there from what Kon had reported during her trip to Terza. His father buried that controlling stone in Cerid’s Crux. She convinced herself that if she could control the ruby, she could restore Garrett’s life using magic. Dehydration brought on delirium. Even though she knew how to conjure food and water, grief left her helpless. Eventually, while searching, she passed over the boundary into Alliance territory. A blue sentry on patrol spotted her and took her back to the Imperial lair. That whole time…through all that…she knew she was pregnant and feared for her child. Her baby girl later passed her parents’ powers along through the generations to me.” Lyra turned her face into Mimio’s soft breast and let the tears flow.

  After a few moments, the Tortoise turned Lyra’s notebook toward him. “Let’s refocus and learn from this sad tale.”

  Lyra took his cue and forced herself to sit upright, pushing the emotions to the back of her mind. “Yes. There is important work to do here and now. The past is gone.” She pointed to some key words in her notes. “What can you tell me about Cerid’s Crux?”

  “Not much other than what you read,” the Guardian replied. “It’s a desolate place. The sun burns so hot that few, even dragons, venture into that land. Only the Qumeli talk of travels there, and those trips may have been tall tales or from generations past. The climate’s simply too brutal. Most experience some type of madness from the directness of the sun’s rays.”

  Lyra turned to face the sorceress. “What about the gem Staurolite? Do you know about it?”

  “It is unfamiliar to me. But while you were at lunch, I noticed the term in your notes and began some research in the archives.” She pulled a stack of dog-eared reference books to her and opened the top selection to a bookmark. “Also called a fairy cross. I think you’ll find its history fascinating.” She placed a second reference at the center of the table, displaying an illustration of the stone. “Alchemical studies have found it to be a representative of all four elements: air, fire, earth, and water. It’s believed that a person who possesses this as a talisman can cause the elements to do his or her bidding. The right angle alignment of the gem represents the crossing of the spiritual and physical planes.” She looked at the others. “Notice the parallels to our Scribe?”

  Lyra sat forward and pulled the diagram to her. “Yes. Of all the Scribes, I alone have been given gifts of each element.” The corners of her mouth lifted into a hopeful grin. “Maybe the Staurolite is meant for me to find.”

  “And it will help you control not only the ruby but the other three keystones as well. Let’s hope it can help you locate them,” Mimio added.

  “There’s more I can speak about.” The Tortoise extended his neck. “I understand enough about alchemistry to know there are five el
ements. The fifth has a spiritual dimension, the pure essence that governs the other four. Apparently, this Staurolite exercises its control of the keystones from that plane.” He looked at Lyra. “I wonder if your aura is aligned with that fifth element?”

  “Would that be called quintessence?” Lyra asked.

  “Indeed it is.”

  “During Eburscon’s last battle, when he tried to steal my aura, he shouted to the stormy sky that the quintessence should be his and not mine.”

  A knock on the door interrupted their discussion. The female cook delivered a dinner tray.

  “Where is Nillea?” Lyra asked, trying to sound like she intended pleasant conversation. “I’ve come to enjoy her visits.”

  “She said her daughter had a stomach ache, and chose to stay with the child.” She smiled. “I’ll pass along your warm thoughts.”

  “Thank you. I hope her daughter feels better soon.”

  As soon as the door closed behind the cook, the Guardian narrowed his eyes and continued their talk. “Eburscon is a highly intelligent and learned alchemist. I don’t doubt what he read in your aura.”

  “Finally, some hope.” Lyra grabbed hold of Mimio’s arm. “But where do I find the Staurolite? Elisabeth didn’t give any clues.”

  The sorceress shook her head. “I have no idea. Let’s take a break and nourish ourselves before we continue the evening’s studies, shall we?”

  After a meal of the herbed root vegetable stew Lyra smelled earlier in the kitchen, the three made plans for tomorrow’s studies, examining the books of the other Scribes. The Tortoise and his assistant spent considerable time selecting references about those periods in Alliance history.

  Lyra perused the remaining three ancient texts and marked scenes to begin their closer examinations. She worked slowly, her mind drifting to the single question—where was the Staurolite. With some prompts, Kessa could help…if her mother would only allow it. Lyra wondered if she might be able to access some similar skill herself. She’d had clairvoyance training with Gatekeeper Cranewort, but that involved reading emotions another person would soon experience. She wondered if the technique might be modified to help her learn about her own future as well.