Born of Magic: Gargoyle Masters, Book 2

by Missy Jane

  It really didn’t matter if he found something to do in each wizard’s home or not. He would remain at Zephara’s side through the next fifteen training sessions unless his brothers needed him elsewhere. So far things had remained calm around Halstrid and he was free to do as he pleased. None of his brothers seemed to mind his desire to travel with Zephara. Astrid had been delighted, though he had no clue why. The women had seemed to get along quite well once Zephara realized her appearance didn’t bother anyone in his home.

  He grinned at the memory of Ourania’s face once she’d spied Zephara’s pink hair. The baby had giggled and played with it until Astrid finally took her out of Zephara’s arms. The pleasure in her expression had stopped his heart. Did she wish to have children too? Could they? That was one question the wizards still couldn’t answer. They didn’t know why after nearly a century of existence the brothers were only now impregnating females. They certainly hadn’t been shy about bedding them.

  Zephara moaned in her sleep and her brow creased. He lightly ran his thumb over it to smooth the skin but she shook her head away from his touch. She moaned again and mumbled but he didn’t catch the words. Then she gasped and threw her hands out as if grabbing for him. He grasped one and held on as her eyes shot open.

  “Zephyr!”

  She bolted upright and flew from the bed, grabbing clothes off the floor at random. He followed and pulled on his trousers as she ran out the door in no more than his shirt. The thought to try and stop her never crossed his mind as she raced down the stone staircase that led to the front of the castle. He was only a step behind her as she yanked open the front doors to reveal a huddled bundle on the front step.

  “Zephyr,” she cried as she fell to her knees and gently pried back the cloak hiding her brother.

  Wynn stood over them helplessly as Zephyr’s bruised and bloody form was revealed.

  The wizard Gregori appeared behind them. “Bring him inside. Quickly.”

  Wynn moved to do so but Zephara picked her brother up and brushed past him before he could aid her. Surprise and annoyance filled him, followed by dismay. He’d forgotten how strong she was and the sight of her so easily carrying her brother disturbed him. She certainly didn’t need Wynn for his strength.

  He shook his head to dispel the direction of his thoughts, and closed the front door before hurrying after Gregori and Zephara. They reached the library and she set Zephyr on a wide sofa.

  “He’s badly hurt,” she said. “I’m certain I felt broken bones.”

  Gregori gently moved her aside and opened Zephyr’s cloak to examine him. He was naked beneath the thick, dark cloth and his injuries were revealed in all their gruesome detail.

  Zephara threw her hands over her mouth. Wynn grasped her shoulders and pulled her back against his chest to remind her she could lean on him. Relief filled him when she took the invitation.

  “Broken ribs,” Gregori said. “At least three. And of course bruises and cuts as you can see. His left ankle may be broken as well and fingers on both hands. But he’s breathing and doesn’t seem to have lost too much blood.”

  Wynn felt Zephara’s sigh of relief as she sagged against him. He ran his hands down her arms, holding her.

  “I can’t believe this happened,” she said. “He has no enemies in this land. Who could have done this?”

  “We’ll have to wait for him to wake and tell us himself,” Gregori replied.

  She nodded but her frustration and anger were palpable. She needed to do something to occupy her mind.

  “Perhaps some warm water and clean cloths are in order?” Wynn asked.

  “Oh,” Zephara said quickly. “Yes.” She ran out of the room to gather both.

  Wynn studied Gregori’s face. “Nothing fatal?”

  The wizard looked over Zephyr some more, then shook his head. “There is a head wound that is worrisome, but I won’t know for certain until he wakes. The biggest concern now is if he’ll wake with that wound. I’m not an expert in Pastelle physiology, but from what I do know they are very similar to humans. So long as he retains his memories and senses after a blow like that, he should be fine…once the bruises and broken bones heal, of course.”

  Wynn nodded and left to help Zephara gather the supplies.

  Feeble morning light drifted through the window when Zephyr finally opened his silver eyes. He searched the tired faces around him before landing on his sister’s.

  “Zee,” he croaked.

  “I’m here,” she replied. Emotion changed her voice, but she no longer cared if anyone knew about her tears. Only Zephyr mattered.

  She held a cup of water to his dry lips and allowed him a few sips before pulling it back. “Take care. You’re badly injured. You need rest.”

  He nodded, but then turned to Wynn. “Your brother, Steinn, was injured as well…but not seriously. He dropped me off here…before flying back to the battle.” He sucked in a painful breath before continuing. “We were closer here…than to your castle.”

  “And my other brothers? Were they there to aid you?”

  “No. We were…ambushed. Alone.”

  “So you and Steinn were traveling alone together when you were ambushed?”

  Zephyr nodded before hissing in a breath from the pain of that small movement. “Yes. Just leaving the King…to head home…to your home.”

  Wynn nodded his understanding.

  Well Zephara didn’t understand. Zephyr’s business was with the king, not the gargoyles. Why was he traveling with Steinn back to his castle? Then the memory of their conversation about the handsome gargoyles entered her mind and she barely hid a grin. Zephyr must’ve tired of what company he could find in Ilstred and hoped to convince one of the Masters to change his preferences, or at least experiment. She shook her head at the thought and released a sigh at her brother’s antics. It would have been more amusing if his libido hadn’t almost gotten him killed.

  “Who attacked you?” she asked. “Did you see them?”

  “Not clearly. Too dark…and quick.”

  She feared that would be so and nodded her understanding. Wynn paced away a moment before returning to her side. “I must find my brother.”

  “Yes, of course.”

  He turned to Zephyr. “I hope you recover quickly. I should return soon with news.” Then he grasped Zephara’s hand and led her from the room.

  She went willingly, knowing he wanted to say goodbye without others watching. As soon as they left the room he pulled her into his arms. “I hate to leave you for even a minute. But I must find my brother.”

  “I understand. I wish I could go with you. But even if I could leave Zephyr’s side, the terms of my agreement with the wizards forbids travel away from the castle until my week is finished.”

  “I know.”

  He kissed and held her as if he might never see her again. She returned his passion even as she sought the truth from the ether. Her psychic senses were quiet, without so much as a hint of warning or reassurance.

  Finally Wynn pulled back and released her. “I’ll return as soon as I’m able. I swear it.”

  “I know you will. Now go, and take care.”

  “I will.”

  He placed one more swift kiss on her before striding out the front door. Her heart ached as she watched him pull it shut behind him.

  Walking away from her was the hardest thing Wynn had done in his life. He knew this was the unease Orestes and Nel had spoken of about their own women. She was the one then, Wynn’s woman. Eternal-mates she had called it. He couldn’t deny it, nor did he want to, which was a pleasant surprise.

  He took to the air and headed in the direction of the King’s castle, searching the ground for evidence of a battle. He soon found it, and then the form of an unconscious Steinn, partially hidden at the top of a large tree.

  His brother was in human form, cradled
within the thick branches of an old oak. They held him as securely as a mother’s arms until Wynn carefully pulled him into his own. The branches creaked as if in acknowledgement and smoothed into a more natural position. Wynn didn’t know what magic had caused such a thing but he was grateful. His brother was as bloody as Zephyr had been. Unfortunately, he wouldn’t be able to say why he had reverted to human form until he woke.

  For a moment Wynn considered heading back to Gregori’s castle so he would be with Zephara, but that would be a mistake. Steinn needed to be near the Wizard Stone, in their castle. With a groan he turned away from where his heart desired to be and headed home.

  Chapter Seven

  They were past the unmarked Pastel border when Kephas heard a woman’s scream. More outrage than pain sounded in her voice, but he jumped on Triton and spurred him toward the sound. The beating of hooves on packed earth resounded through the shallow forest and warned all of his arrival, but there was nothing for it. Getting to her was more important than stealth. He spied the cloaked figure running away as he approached the woman kneeling on the ground.

  “Are you all right?” he called to her.

  She looked up and at the sight of her familiar face all thought of pursuit disappeared. He reined in Triton and jumped off, landing next to her. She fell back and held up a bloody knife that was almost too small to be seen.

  “Stay back,” she hollered. “They took all I had. Stay back!”

  He held his hands out in a placating gesture. “I mean you no harm. Are you injured?”

  She shook her head and continued to push away from him along the ground. He stopped in his tracks to keep her from injuring herself. She was the exact image of Queen Feshara, though much younger than the Queen should be. This, then, was the Princess.

  “My name is Kephas and I mean you no harm. I’m a protector, not a thief or a man who would harm an innocent. I heard your scream.”

  She stopped moving and watched him a moment before swallowing. “I’m Theda. I was robbed by bandits and my traveling companion chased after them…somehow.”

  So her name had been changed? Her resemblance to the Queen’s portrait couldn’t be denied. He only wondered if she knew her true name, and her true place in their world. Was it the Queen who chased after the bandits?

  “Your companion?” he asked.

  She nodded. “A friend. He moved a lot faster than I expected for his age. He might even catch the bandits…I injured one of them.”

  He wanted to pick her up from the hard ground but the fear still evident in her expression kept him in place. “I see.”

  She stood slowly, lowering her feeble knife. He would’ve laughed at anyone else holding such a weapon against him, but he was too busy being amazed by her courage.

  “Are you injured?” he asked again.

  “Just my pride. I was too distracted to see the three bandits jump from the brush. They took my pack before I realized what had knocked me off my feet. I swiped my knife through one as he ran, but I think I only got his arm. And now everything I own is gone.” Her shoulders slumped as she looked off in the distance. “Everything.”

  He could no longer fight the need to protect and aid her. He turned to Triton and pulled a waterskin from his saddle bags, then slowly approached her.

  Theda watched the huge man walk slowly toward her. The look of wary concern on his face was almost comical. It was that look alone that kept her from bringing her knife back up. Lot of good it would do, though. If it even pierced his thick skin it would probably only make him laugh. His skin was an odd grayish hue that matched his hair and clothes, as well as his mustache and short beard. He stopped an arm’s length away—his arm’s length—and held out the waterskin.

  “Water?”

  Her throat suddenly felt parched and sore. She gave a short nod before accepting his offer with her free hand. His full lips curled up the slightest bit and she almost dropped the water. Damn he was handsome, despite his odd coloring.

  “Thank you,” she murmured.

  “You’re welcome. Do you wish to wait here for your companion? Or should we follow in his wake?”

  She started at his use of we, but had to admit having a protector of his size would be comforting. But what did she really know of this man? Albain had been wary, but he’d admitted the gargoyles were only dangerous if angered. So long as she didn’t anger Kephas, would he remain peaceful? There was really only one way to find out. She didn’t want to be left alone when there were bandits about.

  “I suppose we should follow,” she finally said.

  He nodded and started slowly along the path. She fell into step beside him, but not too close. The path was wide enough to allow wagons through and he and his horse took up nearly half the space, but she remained walking along the opposite edge. Silence reined between them for a few minutes as they set an even pace that was neither hurried nor leisurely.

  She kept her gaze locked straight ahead, lest she give in and stare at the strange man. He almost appeared carved from stone. The cloak on his back also had a strange shape, as if it covered a pack or some abnormality on his back. From the corner of her eye she watched him glance at her every few steps, and finally gave in to the urge to speak.

  “What?” she asked.

  “I said nothing.”

  “But you keep looking at me. Is there something on my face?”

  He grinned and shook his head. “Not at all. I’m just curious about you.”

  “Why?”

  “You seem very young for a woman wandering these lands alone.”

  She huffed in annoyance. “I wasn’t alone. My companion ran off after the bandits, remember?”

  He nodded. “That’s right. Your companion seemed to think running off after your satchel a good enough reason to leave you alone on the road, fully exposed and vulnerable.”

  “I’m not vulnerable. And he’s just an old man anyway. I never said he was my protector. If anything, I should have been looking out for him. But he gave me no warning when he ran off after the thieves.”

  That earned her a raised brow, but she looked away angrily.

  “So, you’re traveling these lands with an old man and nothing more than that little bit of metal to protect yourself?”

  It did sound a bit ridiculous when worded like that, which only angered her more.

  “That isn’t any of your business. I don’t even know who you are.”

  “I told you. I’m Kephas, a protector from Halstrid. One of the Gargoyle Masters who protect the realm.”

  Equal parts fear, awe, and curiosity rose up in her and she wasn’t sure what to say.

  “You have no need to fear me,” he said. “I’m a protector of innocents. So unless you’re guilty of some crime, I would have no cause to quarrel with you.”

  Kephas fought down a grin as she tossed her pretty head in obvious offense. There was no doubt in his mind she was as innocent as a newborn babe, in many ways. Her discomfort bothered him, but he couldn’t let down his guard until they found her companion or the thieves. Until then he would remain in gargoyle form.

  “Of course I’m not guilty of anything. Other than getting distracted earlier.”

  “When you were attacked?”

  “Yes.”

  “I see.”

  He was trying to think of something else to say when Giga ran up from wherever it had disappeared to. Theda startled at its sudden appearance but didn’t seem too surprised to see the creature.

  “You have a pet?”

  “It appears so, though I think he’s adopted me rather than the other way around.”

  “He?”

  “I’m only guessing.”

  The creature looked up at Theda and seemed to grin. “Giga! Giga me!”

  “Giga?” she asked.

  “That appears to be his name.”

 
“Ah. Hello, Giga. I’m Theda.”

  Giga nodded his head as he continued to walk beside them. “Theeeeeda. Theeeeda bye.”

  “I believe that means you’re traveling with us.”

  “Mhmm,” she mumbled.

  He watched her a moment longer before turning his attention back to the path ahead. Tracks were still visible where the thieves had fled, as well as a deeper mark that must have been her companion’s staff.

  “This companion of yours, is he handy with that staff as a weapon as well as a walking stick?”

  “I honestly don’t know. I don’t know much about Albain other than he’d been in the fishing village a time or two.”

  Kephas froze. Theda continued on a couple of paces before she realized he was no longer beside her and looked over her shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

  “You say his name is Albain?”

  “Yes.”

  Theda took the few steps back to where Kephas stood scowling. Despite the anger on his face she no longer feared him. If he had wanted to hurt her he could have easily done so already. So why did the mention of the old man’s name anger him? Albain’s earlier words about the gargoyles echoed through her mind.

  Oh aye, very friendly until you do something they don’t like. Then they turn deadly in the blink of an eye.

  What had the old man done that the Masters didn’t like?

  “You know of him?” she asked.

  He shrugged. “I know of an old man who goes by that name, and it’s not exactly a common one. He was a wizard once, and his motivations will always be in question in my eyes. That wizard is known to carry a staff that he is capable of using as a weapon.”

  “A wizard?” she asked with a slight laugh. “That’s ridiculous.”

  Wasn’t it?

  The expression on Kephas’s face seemed to argue that not only wasn’t it ridiculous, it was true. She shook her head and started walking again. He followed.

  “I don’t truly know Albain. He spoke with my mother a few times in the village where we lived, but I hadn’t seen him for months before running into him today. He fed me and offered companionship on my way to Halstrid.”