For once, she’d glimpsed what it was like to belong.
Beatrice had foolishly looked forward to journeying to a new home with the Stonemantle sisters, thinking it would be nice to be safe for once.
And then four days ago, the sisters hadn’t met them at the agreed-upon location. Even then, Beatrice had held out hope.
Old Mother hadn’t been so trusting and had hitched the pair of old geldings to the wagon and ordered them in. They’d already packed what possessions would fit in the wagon and left everything else behind. Stonemantle sisters or no, Old Mother had decided to take her chances with the lupwyn raiders and other Elementals in the world beyond the human-held lands. Better a chance at survival out in the wilds than certain death at the hands of the acolytes.
Her grandmother had said that the sisters were cunning; if they’d found trouble, they’d likely find their way free again.
Beatrice agreed, although her heart had been heavy with doubt.
Then, less than a day out, they’d heard the sound of horses approaching on the trail ahead. Before they’d had a chance to hide themselves and the wagon, Sorsha’s mare, Shadegrove, and Lamarra’s gelding came trotting down the road.
Both horses had been un-tacked with no injuries to show they’d gotten their saddles off the hard way. So it looked like the two horses had been ridden out far beyond the human lands and then turned loose to find their way back to River’s Divide on their own.
Which suggested that perhaps the sisters had managed to meet up with their santhyrian allies after all. Just not where they were supposed to.
After quickly examining the horses, Old Mother had declared that no acolytes had been near them. Beyond that, they didn’t know what had become of their friends.
Old Mother, never one to turn away one of fate’s gifts, kept the horses. Roan, the better rider, took the fractious Shadegrove as his mount, while Beatrice had adopted Lamarra’s big-barreled, placid gelding.
In the following three days, Beatrice and her newly adopted mount doubled back to scout along the wagon’s back trail to hide the signs of their passage and to alert Old Mother and Roan if she discovered anyone following.
So far, she’d found nothing.
Absolutely nothing.
So why had her magic been stirring uneasily all morning when she sensed no danger nearby? The only other reason her magic stirred awake was if a person needed healing. But she sensed no one in need of that skill, either.
It was beyond frustrating. It had begun earlier that morning as a nagging sensation, but it had been growing all day. Until now, it was all she could do not to gallop her gelding back the way she’d come and ruin all the hard work she’d done to hide their trail.
It didn’t help that cold sweat covered her body or that a sour fear was brewing in her stomach.
If there was someone back there that needed her healing, she would have gone in a heartbeat. But the power stirring awake was not her healing power.
No, it was nothing so innocent.
There was a dark twin to her healer’s magic which slumbered within her soul.
A power so fearsome, so evil, even an acolyte couldn’t withstand it.
And that power was rousing, its attention focusing on something back toward the human settlement of River’s Divide.
Beatrice shuddered and turned her gelding to follow the wagon.
Whoever, or whatever, had roused her dark magic was not something she wished to encounter.
Chapter Three
His mare’s ears perked and even Silverblade, with his dull human senses, could hear the sound of hooves on hard-packed ground.
Somewhere not too far ahead, the group of elders, guards and their horse-like santhyrian allies rode the same trail as him, likely keeping to a slow pace to allow his mortal mare to catch up. The santhyrians were normally much swifter than a domesticated horse. And his mare was not a swift creature by even horse standards—but she was silent and well-trained. It was the one reason he’d bought this horse. He’d acquired her on one of his earlier ventures into the human settlement of River’s Divide. As a trapper, he needed a horse to help carry his furs, but as a scout, he’d looked over each horse closely for the one with the calmest disposition. This mare had shown herself to be the most levelheaded, even when he had gotten close enough that she could catch his lupwyn scent.
In the days since they’d first become partners, she’d shown great skill at navigating the narrow and twisting forest trails. Mild pride kindled in his heart. She was nearly as silent and sure-footed as any of his fellow lupwyn scouts.
Eventually his mare caught up to the others, and he could now catch glimpses of the last riders in line through the trees.
It was mildly rewarding—and childish, perhaps—to know he could track even the elders of this group without them knowing he was so close on their trail.
His magic flowed around both his mount and their surroundings, dulling their scents and even hiding the faint thump of their heartbeats from anyone who might have sharp enough natural senses to detect such.
Not that he could take all the credit. His Larnkin had a special knack for hiding that which it didn’t want known or located. Silverblade’s lips stretched back from his teeth in a grin. He was nearly upon the last rider in line.
“I assume once you’re done stalking us like a starving wolf in mid-winter, you’ll come join me. It’s been five moon cycles since I last saw you in person.”
His mother’s mind voice flowed across his thoughts, and his grin widened at her humor.
“Mother!” Silverblade squeezed his legs against his mare’s barrel to urge her into moving faster and dropped his attempt at stealth. “I never could hide from you. As a child, it used to frustrate me no end.”
“Hmmm, is that why you followed a lupwyn scout’s life path? I always thought you simply rebelled at the idea of embracing your phoenix heritage.”
Silverblade chuckled at his mother’s astuteness and her flippant tone. It was a long-running joke between them that she despaired his choice of following in the ways of his father’s people.
It was all outward pomp and bustle on her part. She loved him and his father, and spent much of her time among the lupwyn nation.
In truth, he didn’t hate his phoenix side, he simply didn’t relate to it as much as his lupwyn form. Flying in bird or hybrid form was something he partook in from time to time to appease his mother, but he didn’t really love it. His lupwyn heritage was too strong, preferring to have at least two feet on the ground.
And the call of the wind and the lazy summer thermals never spoke to his heart as strongly as the need to run through the soothing, dark forests. His mother knew it was so, and it didn’t really come as a surprise to her either. Most offspring that were of mixed heritage took after one parent more than the other, depending on the blending.
Out of all the different Elemental races, the lupwyn bloodlines usually proved the most dominant when mixed with another species. His mother had come to terms with his choice a long time ago. But she still sent the occasional barb his way.
Silverblade guided his mare closer to the group of visiting Elementals and then dropped his cloaking magic. Several of the guards acknowledged his sudden appearance with calm nods. They might not have known he was so close, but clearly they had been informed of his coming.
After returning their companionable nods, he turned his attention to his mother.
“Hmmm. You can’t seem to bother taking on phoenix form, but you’ll do human?” She sighed and then grinned at him, holding her arms open for a hug.
Silverblade guided his mare close to his mother’s santhyrian mount and managed a quick, somewhat awkward hug. His mare tolerated the santhyrian, but the stallion mage Cymael was riding snorted with disdain.
“Mother, it’s good to see you, even if the reason behind it isn’t.”
“It’s always good to see you too.” His mother looked him over. “At least you make a fine enough looking
human, I suppose.” Cymael arched a brow at him. “As majestic as your lupwyn form is, it would be nice to see you as a phoenix once in a while when you come to Grey Spires next. But I digress. Once this present mission is over, you’ll need to return to the pack and deal with leadership issues there. Maybe once that’s dealt with, you’ll find an opportunity to pass that stellar heritage on to the next generation.” His mother huffed softly at his stricken look, her cream-colored crest feathers rising slightly in humor. “I want to see some grandchildren one of these centuries before my Larnkin decides it is time to return to the Spirit Realm.”
He could feel his early surprise melting away to mild annoyance. This was an old argument. “Now is hardly the time to worry about such things.”
For the most part, the different races composing the Elementals shared many beliefs and values. But some things, like instincts, were too ingrained within the species and could not be overruled.
Such as a phoenix’s mating instinct. That was something that could not be simply ignored. Like the dragons and gryphons, phoenix mated for life. Unfortunately, other species such as lupwyns or santhyrians had much more freedom to change life partners as sometimes happened.
Silverblade had learned that very painful life lesson half a century before.
While he wouldn’t mind having his own youngling to raise, that was a little difficult without a mate and there was no way he was ready to risk that kind of pain a second time. If his mother wanted grandchildren so badly, she and his father could just beget another youngling themselves!
Silverblade wasn’t so foolish as to tell his mother that.
“Your father says the pack is entering another fertility cycle. It’s likely why he wants you to return and take up your place as pack leader and put down any dissension among the other members while he’s at Grey Spires. You might even find another—”
“No.” The word came out more sharply than Silverblade intended, so he softened his voice a touch. “Once was enough lesson for me.”
His mother sighed, but wisely didn’t press him. She knew well his history.
He swiftly sought another topic of conversation. There was one thing he should mention before the current mission sidetracked him. “It will be good to spend time with you, father, and the rest of the pack again.” He simply would not be seeking a new mate, and considering what they were just talking about, he hesitated to bring up the next topic.
However, it was too important to avoid simply because he didn’t want to give his mother more fuel.
“When I first started scouting this area, I found a young human woman and her family living deep in the woods. What’s more interesting is that they all possess Larnkins.” Until recently, he’d thought that those powerful, immortal creatures of the spirit realm only took Elementals as hosts. That was, perhaps, a tad arrogant on his people’s part to believe such.
Yet it was understandable, too. For his spying had only reinforced what the elders had already suspected. Most humans were taught to hate and fear magic; that anyone with even the humblest of gifts was evil and should be hunted down so they could not ‘corrupt’ others. The only corruption Silverblade had ever witnessed was rooted in the acolytes’ core teachings.
“Larnkins?” his mother said, a hint of surprise reflected in her voice that wasn’t mirrored on her tranquil features, her diplomat’s mask falling into place.
“Yes. And when I return to the pack, I’d like to bring this family with me. They have been hiding from the human priests for years. Among them is a female with a very powerful Larnkin. My own led me to them, and he has since made it clear that these humans are under his protection.”
His mother tilted her head, studying him, no doubt trying to read his thoughts. But for once, he had his mental shields firmly in place.
“This female, how old would you say she is?”
Silverblade paused and mulled that over. He knew she was young compared to a centuries-old Elemental like him, but she was human and he’d seen many humans younger than her with babes already at the breast. “Were I to guess, I’d say twenty.”
“Hmmm,” his mother said, her thoughtful expression morphing into calculation. “She would be of an age with the Stonemantle sisters then.”
He supposed that was so. Being a scout, he knew of the human general and his three daughters. It had been a necessity to learn as much as possible about their enemies.
As it had turned out, the Stonemantle sisters weren’t the enemy. At least the oldest wasn’t. She’d turned out to be the bondmate of the Crown Prince of the Phoenix.
But what that had to do with the three humans he’d found, he didn’t know.
“They must all have been born here. I would need to know that for sure to confirm my theory, but if they were born here and the Larnkins of this land took them as hosts, then that means they are our allies,” his mother said. “You did well to find and protect them. Once you complete your current mission, I would like you to bring this family to Grey Spires.”
“That was my plan,” he agreed with a nod.
“And you say your Larnkin showed interest in this one’s mentoring?”
Those weren’t his exact words, but by the way his mother’s crest rose slightly, he sensed another humorous barb at his expense was likely incoming.
“You most certainly should tutor this young one, and if something comes of it after a century or two, all the better.”
Now his mother wanted him to take a human mate? A species equally as promiscuous as a lupwyn, if not more so?
He was just drawing breath to say as much when the first agonized scream reached his ears.
The terrible sound battered his senses, and then chaos broke loose as the undeniable shapes of two dozen robed acolytes emerged from the surrounding forest.
Ambush, he realized. But before Silverblade had time to draw his sword, a delicately textured net dropped down upon him.
Wherever those delicate threads touched, a hot, fierce burning flared up. The heat and pain lasted moments and then the heat faded, changing to a numbing cold. His mare squealed in terror and then collapsed underneath him. Trapped by the net, he went down with her.
He had no idea what was happening. His Larnkin flared in panic, but the strange nets simply absorbed whatever spell his Larnkin launched at it.
Worse, his limbs were growing heavy, the strange, numbing cold somehow draining away his life energy along with his magic. And even as fine as the netting was, he still couldn’t break or shred any of the threads. He attempted to call on his lupwyn form, but even that was beyond him.
Trapped in a human body without his natural weapons or his magic, he could only struggle uselessly and listen to those around him fighting for their lives and losing.
Somewhere close by, he heard his mother’s enraged raptor’s scream and a moment later, her fire magic blasted just over his head. Some of the flames caught a portion of the net trapping him and burned it to ash. Seeing that, he renewed his struggle to free himself from the net.
He’d managed to free his upper body when an acolyte stepped into his line of sight and leveled a crossbow at Silverblade’s chest.
Chapter Four
Beatrice managed another quarter candlemark of travel, her alarm and fear growing with each stride the horse took. Her dark magic seemed not to care and continued to gather itself.
Nothing she did calmed the magic. She didn’t understand what was happening. In the past, that dark magic only roused when she was in danger. Yet her healing magic told her there was no living creature close enough to be a threat to her life.
So why the sudden stirring of her dark power? It hadn’t bothered to stir awake in years, not since she’d actively started avoiding acolytes at all costs. She sent her healer’s magic outward, searching the area in a half day’s ride around her once again and still she sensed no acolytes near.
Beyond her control, her dark magic continued to rise within her. It wasn’t yet visible to the naked eye, a
nd she didn’t think it was a threat to the gelding she rode, but she could feel the dark power waking. For the first time in her life, that power had a consciousness to it—a will.
Like a beast that had long been hibernating and had come to awareness at last, it shook itself fully awake and looked out through her eyes, and then used her own healer’s magic to scan the area. With that dark power behind it, buoying her healer’s magic as its fearsome strength, her reach was so much farther.
It stretched its waking consciousness back along the trail, hunting for something far from her present location—all the way back to River’s Divide.
There was something there it wanted, something or someone it was interested in.
Perhaps ‘concerned for’ was a better term.
Yes. The knowledge was suddenly clear in her mind. Just a vague, nagging notion one moment and then absolute certainty the next. She didn’t have long to worry over the strangeness of her magic or its willfulness. She was needed elsewhere. Almost against her will, she found herself reining the gelding around until they faced the trail behind them.
The dark power did not share more details. Beatrice desperately wanted to know more, but in the end she couldn’t resist its urging, and she squeezed her legs around the gelding’s barrel to hurry him into a trot.
In all likelihood, she was about to ride into a pack of acolytes, but her fool of a Larnkin wasn’t giving her a choice.
*****
Darkness was falling, the shadows among the trees growing longer. Ahead Silverblade heard the rushing of rapids over the sounds of his own passage and the blood pounding in his ears. The crossbow bolt buried in his shoulder grated against bone and the blazing pain caused his vision to go stark white with each step. He forced himself to focus on their surroundings, not each and every agony inflicted upon his body by the acolytes.
He and his mother had escaped the acolytes. For now. But they wouldn’t remain free for long if he didn’t focus.
He blinked his snowy vision clear and looked around.
Yes. He knew this area, had camped by the falls several times and set traps.
Maiden's Wolf (In Deception's Shadow Book 3) Page 2
