“Suggested course would to be to find a more reliable source.” The Fairy folded hands behind itself.
“I agree,” Theodora Talisa looked upon her many Mirrors; there was room for more. Many empty spaces remained upon the walls and beams above, “search Fairy. Search far and wide for agents that may be used.”
“As you wish,” Ophiuchi bowed and disappeared into nothing with a loud pop that awoke Avarice. He stirred, but did not move from the bed. Theodora Talisa calmed him back to sleep when she slid next to his own naked body. Curling up for the warmth his massive build released. She purred softly as his hands caressed her breasts.
Eighteen.
The clouds broke away and parted. The crescent moon shone brilliantly in the twilight sky. It was a dull copper, almost ruby at the late evening hour. Six stars were encompassed between the crescent’s tips. These stars were special to the moon. She held them close. She wanted to protect these, as she watched over all the Houses of the known Realm. A seventh star was faintly appearing just beyond the reach of the crescent moon’s tip. Marguerite still lay uneasy near the brook. She dreamed happily, but body shook and rocked as wildly as the babbling brook.
Wake up, Marguerite! You must wake up!
A heavenly voice she had heard in her dreams before called out.
Wake up, or all will be lost!
The voice sung urgently upon the moonbeams and stardust. The ethereal voice disappeared as Marguerite awoke with a sharp gasp. The copper moon shone brightly into her eyes. The forest was silent. She tried to recall the voice that sung to her. That awoke her.
It vanished like the dreams of the woods so long ago. Vanished as her dream of her mother’s disappearance by magic, gone. The Seven protecting her were nothing but memories. Gone.
The silence of the forest deafening to her ears, for no animals or insects made a noise in this late hour. Removing the sleep from her eyes, her own heart raced as she had slept longer than intended.
The moon was high.
Her majestic horse was uneasy. Head rocked back and forth sharply. The horse tried to break its reigns away from the branch it was tied to. A gentle breeze rustled and brushed through the trees. With it, a stench danced delicately. One that only the horse could smell. Marguerite scrambled to her feet to try and settle the horse. Holding tight to the reigns, the horse fought its constraints. It bucked wildly into the air as Marguerite ran her fingers through its mane,
“Whoa,” Marguerite tried to get closer, “Steady! What’s wrong?”
The horse grew uneasy as a near inaudible growl sounded from the shrubs and forest behind Marguerite. She thought she heard it, but ignored it to settle the horse.
“Whoa, girl!” Marguerite unbound the reigns.
The growl grew louder. Her horse almost uncontrollable, she bucked back and forth. Another rumble made Marguerite release the reigns and grab tight to the hilt of her sword. The growl was low, deep, and seemed to come from all the darkness behind her. The bushes rumbled.
“Do not bother Human. For by the time you have withdrawn your sword,” the growl uttered, “I will be at your throat.”
Marguerite did not look at the bushes behind her, for she knew of only one Animal in all the realm that talked as that creature did, “Then you greatly underestimate my abilities, Wolf. I will surely have this sword down yours before you reached mine.”
A second Wolf appeared out of shrub and shadow, body low. Bared teeth glistened, “Shall we test this theory, Human?”
“I have no quarrel with you, Wolves. I am but a simple traveler,” Marguerite held tight to her sword, as her stern voice spoke.
“No quarrels with us—I beg to differ,” Asena appeared from the darkness before Marguerite. Red fur glowed in the dying fire Marguerite cast, “Snow White.”
Asena growled as she spoke Marguerite’s pet name. The other Wolves lowered and growled. Teeth glistened. They seemed to chuckle.
“Seeing as you are so intimate with my name, you are?” Marguerite stepped to the side; she tried to keep her eyes on all three Wolves.
“My name is unimportant to you, Human,” Asena growled.
As Marguerite stared down the three Wolves, the Bloodstone began to glow under her blouse. An unearthly aura pulsed from it, that only the Wolf Queen could see. Marguerite only felt the Bloodstone grow hot against her bare skin. Coolness ran up the base of her neck. She shivered. The Bloodstone burned brighter.
“YOU!” Asena’s eyes grew wide, and with a howl, stood on her hind legs. Fur fell in thick patches, and chunks. Joints rearranged. Twisted. Her neck turned, elongated, and shortened. Bones snapped into place. Marguerite winced at the sound, but did not lower her sword.
The Wolf Queen stood naked before Marguerite. Skin red, and raw, but still milky, and beautiful. Her jade eyes bright in the moonlight, while Bloodstone glowed and pulsed around her own neck, “I should have known a copy would be within your grasps as well.”
“You must be the Wolf Queen’s daughter—”
“I am the ruler of all Wolves!” Asena howled cutting off Marguerite.
The two Wolves howled with her. Far away so did the Clans she held dominion over. Asena’s ears perked and she smiled when she caught wind of new Wolves howling back. She closed her eyes for a moment and took in the ecstasy of her empire slowly reforming. She would defy the gift the Fairy placed upon her. Asena would have both the Bloodstone, and the Wolf Empire she sought so desperately. When the howls stopped her eyes fell sharply to Marguerite. She extended her hand. The other played with her Bloodstone, “Be a dear, and hand over your copy.”
“Copy?” Marguerite held fast to both her sword and the Bloodstone that now pulsed brilliantly. The heat grew with each passing moment. The brightness of the jewel radiated through her skin.
“She does not know?” One of the Wolves cackled through bared teeth. Saliva glistened bright. The creature wanted to pounce upon Marguerite, to tear her throat apart. He wanted to revel in her flesh.
“Why would she? Being merely a pup when it was scattered,” Asena commented as she chuckled through bared teeth.
Marguerite held fast to her unsheathed her sword. The moons silver glow made it glisten like a fallen star. A small portion mirrored the light of the Bloodstone, its red light a beating heart. The runes glowed brighter than the moon it reflected. She pointed it at the Wolf Queen, “What you they talking about? What was scattered?”
“The Bloodstone, you stupid girl,” Asena touched the Bloodstone upon her chest gently. It rolled between two fingers, “Six copies were created after the Queen fell, clever, really as they were scattered across the Realm. Six have been gathered—but the final remained out of reach.”
Asena explained taking a step forward. Hand extended out. Fingernails sharp and still stained with blood.
“You have been quite busy then?” Marguerite questioned. Her own eyes drawn to the beating Bloodstone that hung upon Asena’s chest.
“Yes. My forces have been quite busy while the House of Red crumbled through old age. That is how I came to acquire—”
“You mean stole,” Marguerite declared. Sword tight in her grip, “The night you betrayed, and killed Rose Red!”
“I was invited to look for what I needed—it only became betrayal when that bitch of a ruler, Saledii would not give what I came for,” Asena was unsympathetic to past events. She played with her razor sharp nails. They were still slightly red from the blood of the Wolf she killed.
“Zhan’ding defended the Realm from your kind!” Marguerite yelled.
The two Bloodstones began to call to one other.
Both women drew closer.
“How the writers of history choose what words to use!” Asena howled, looking upon Marguerite, “Defending the Realm. Your precious Saledii and her House of Red would not leave us in peace. Continually have they have tried to eradicate us. We did what we needed to survive! She deserved that death!” Asena barked loudly. Two sharp fingers pointed towards Marguerite. A wind
blew through the Wolf Queen’s thick red locks. It was cold and made Marguerite shiver as she clutched the burning Bloodstone. She fought back tears.
“All she did was for the Realm.” Marguerite lied more to herself than to the woman before her.
“How the lies you feed yourself, are so hard to swallow,” Asena said.
Marguerite inhaled deep and repeated herself, “All she did was for the Realm!”
“What would you know of the affairs of the Realm?” Asena asked of Marguerite. Guilt and remorse fell upon her brow, “Protected and isolated in your precious shining city.”
The Bloodstone tugged through Marguerite’s blouse. She began walking towards the Wolf Queen. The magic of the Bloodstone tingled her neck. Over the rustle of the wind, and howl of wild beasts she could hear a chatter of whispers, and a chorus of hums. Marguerite tried to stop. The Bloodstone popped out of her blouse. It pulled her closer.
“I have heard rumors and whispers of forces that wish to tear apart the peace of the Realm.” Marguerite strained. Her boot’s heels dug into the soft earth, “Who is she?”
“The one with powers like the Queen?” Asena asked with a crooked smile. The Bloodstone she wore hung upon the air, pulling towards its missing piece. The chain it was upon danced delicately up and down like waves in the open sea of the air.
“Yes,” Marguerite pulled back, unsuccessfully. The Bloodstone would not allow her to fall to the ground. It kept her on her feet. Slowly it drug Marguerite towards the Wolf Queen, and the Wolf Queen to Marguerite, who did not struggle. She wanted the Bloodstone. And she wanted to kill Marguerite. This would have allowed her both.
“The Apprentice to the Queen. She has been awakened. It is she who wishes to destroy the House of White and claim Ashok Orai in her name,” Asena licked her lips as she drew closer to Marguerite who continued to fight the increasingly growing attraction the two Bloodstones exerted upon each other. Every beat of her heart, the Bloodstone pulsed. Every beat of her heart, the pull grew stronger.
Marguerite pulled back, sword awkwardly held before her. She was ready to run the sword through the Wolf Queen if she needed to,
“And what is her name?”
Asena flinched. Her step faltered, but did not stop the attraction of the Bloodstones, “Her name is of little consequence to you, or anyone.”
A flinch that Marguerite took notice, “you are scared of her.”
“I am scared of no one!” Asena howled. The Wolf’s delicate facial expressions disappeared. Her jaw grew to a snout. Sharp teeth bared, they glistened in the moonlight, “All should be scared of me!”
“We will see, in the end,” Marguerite whistled.
Her horse appeared from behind the bush. With a rustle it startled the Wolves. A jump, she mounted. Rushing upon the Wolf Queen, Marguerite snatched with precision of a hunter, the Bloodstone. The delicate golden chain that wrapped like a collar around Asena’s neck shattered. The Bloodstone flew into her hand. Marguerite rode with haste, exposed sword clutched tight, while fingers interlocked into her horse’s mane.
“THE BLOODSTONE!” Asena howled deep before she gave chase. With a lunge, Asena’s bones and limbs readjusted. Fire red hair grew. She huffed as she rushed through the dark brush.
Owoooo!
Her two soldiers followed.
Marguerite’s majestic horse rode with the speed of the Four Winds. Hooves dug deep into the soft forest dirt to propel forward. The forest whipped past Marguerite’s eyes in a blur. She did not care; her eyes were fixated upon the Bloodstone pieces. As she rode, the two glowed bright as the burning horizon had days ago. The chain around her neck melted away into mist that swirled and protected the two jewels. The two pieces gravitated together within Marguerite’s open palm. They danced, twirled, and orbited rapidly before merging into a single jewel. A warm, tingling sensation passed through her arm. A cool rush appeared briefly before it disappeared into the Bloodstone, which no longer glowed. The chain reappeared. It swung delicately on the side of her hand. The Bloodstone was once again whole.
As her horse raced on, she placed the Bloodstone back around her neck. Where it bounced wildly up and down with every gallop. The Wolves gave chase. But magic more powerful than their Master’s prevented them from overtaking the white horse and its rider. No matter how fast they ran, Marguerite was faster. No matter how much they smelled they could not keep her scent. It dissipated quickly, masked by the trees, the flowers, and animals. Soon, she was gone from their vision, as a mist appeared before their eyes.
A veil of mist that only their eyes could see. A mist that they could not penetrate with their bodies, no matter how hard they tried. It was grey, but swirled with a prism of colors that danced and swirled delicately. It disoriented the beasts.
Owoooo!
Asena howled, endlessly in all directions. The howl turned into a scream as the transformation into human finished. She screamed and clawed in her attempt to get past the mist, but was unable to penetrate it. The mist numbed her fingers the longer she swiped. She foamed at the mouth as she huffed repeatedly in and out. One of her guards crawled forward, “Perhaps the Witch will not be too mad that Lady White escaped?”
“Do not be a fool! The Witch will skin us alive!” Asena’s guard winced back low, tail between his legs. Head dare not look at his Queen. Asena tried to push through the mist. Where her hands touched the mist, the swirling colors intensified drawn to the heat her body released. They extended out like wings and tentacles all around,
“What sorcery keeps me from my prey!” She bellowed out.
“What do we do now, my Queen?” The second guard asked. The creature sat tall. Eyes dared no to look at his Queen directly. His copper eyes merely stared deep into the multicolored swirl before him.
“We do as instructed,” Asena took a deep calming breath her lip twitched. Her arm wiped the foam from her mouth before turning back into a Wolf.
“What of the Bloodstone, my Queen?” The first was brave enough to speak again, as he followed his queen away from the strange mist.
“Mark my words, I will find Snow White again—and when I do—I will claim back the Bloodstone by doing what her mother could not—I will kill her—and I will revel in her blood!” Asena growled rushing away with her two guards. She rushed back to finding Magic Mirrors for the Witch, Theodora Talisa. Find the Mirrors to change the fate the Fairy bestowed upon her. She would live to see both her Empire and Bloodstone together. That she cursed to the Winds, which Asena knew the Fairy and Witch, would hear.
High above a massive Crow watched all unfold before the land far below. A loud caw escaped its beak before it turned and disappeared in the late evening sky.
Marguerite stealing a chance look behind, allowed her horse the chance to take a slower pace across the barren plane now that the Wolves no longer gave chase. She breathed a sigh, and allowed her beating heart to calm. Marguerite wearily sheathed her sword, but looked back once more before she paced it all the way in.
While her horse enjoyed the slower pace, she played with the dull, ice cold, Bloodstone between her fingers. The golden chain glinted in the moonlight with a new vigor. Marguerite could have sworn the chain was thicker than it had been. The links looked different. They were no longer oval links, but now were interlocking figure eights. She liked the change.
Her eyes soon were focused deep within the jewel’s core. For a stain of black bubbles seemed to be locked within. Something she had never seen before. It intrigued her, but paid it no mind, for soon her mind raced quickly with other thoughts.
Her mind raced around the notion that the unnamed Witch reformed the Bloodstone that the Wolf Queen feared, apprentice to her mother. And to the red Wolf, which she can change into Human form, just at the Shattered One said. But now that Marguerite possessed the Bloodstone, it would make her life easier, and the Wolves more difficult. For she remembered, whoever possessed the Bloodstone, the Wolves were bound to their will, and their will alone.
She was s
afe, for the time being. For the Bloodstone was whole once more.
Nineteen.
Far away from where Marguerite fled the Wolves, a great stone tower was wrapped in thorns and vines. The ancient tower stood within a great walled bramble. It was from within a cave situated high above that two figures draped in thick white robes knelt. Their arms were extended towards a glowing shard of ruby. Hands glowed with a sparkling golden magic. Their brows were tight. Through the fire that was the ruby shard, both figures watched the Wolves no longer give chase to Marguerite beyond the woods.
A great wave of unseen magic rippled over the land that Marguerite raced across. The air seemed electric. It caught Marguerite’s attention. It tingled the back of her neck, but the rushing of the wind, and thunderous hooves distracted her. She slowed when she saw the Wolves no longer followed, but kept a steady pace. The feeling of the magic was gone. She didn’t notice, or didn’t care. She merely continued on.
“She is safe,” the first spoke, her voice high. Hands lowered. Gold glow faded away as mist. The ground hungrily drank every last drop.
“Will she ever be, Sol?” Her male companion asked rising. He wiped his hands against each other. Either to remove dirt from the circle they knelt in, or the residual golden magic he felt tingle his skin.
“Snow White will soon be in Mora Rose’s domain, Lune,” Sol stated as the glow of the red ruby faded. So too did the image of Marguerite riding onward.
“Do you think she can do what we need?” Lune asked of his companion. Sol did not respond. She merely walked out of the cave, Lune followed quickly after her. They stood upon the cliff face and stared down into the great walled forest of thorns and vines.
The moon was bright over it all. Sol stared deeply into the bright night sky. A strange rainbow glow danced around the tower, “the Fairies wove the prophecy at Mora Rose’s birth. She is the only one who can. As such, we have done all that we can to protect her.”
Bound by Roses (The Bound Series Book 1) Page 19
