Kate's Legacy (Soul Merge Saga Book 2)

by M. P. A. Hanson

  “I accept the honour of the place at your side, my sisters.” Romana replied, the words flowing from her mouth as soon as she made the conscious decision to go with them.

  “Then come with us. Take up the black cloak offered to you, and walk with us to our Coven circle.” They said.

  Joanna silently handed her a plain black cloak, one that looked rather plain compared to the extravagant colours of Joanna’s. In fact, all their cloaks were unique, always one colour, but with brilliant stitching around the edges in a unique pattern. On the sleeves and along the hem, each cloak held a different and equally beautiful insignia, unique to the wearer and bearing their initials in the centre. Kate’s cloak was blue with dolphins leaping through waves, while Joanna’s was grey with a needle and thread that wound in a complex swirl around the initials. But the most unusual thing about these crests was that they moved. Joanna’s needle appeared to actually draw the stitching in a constant pattern, while Kate’s waves moved as dolphins plunged into them.

  She looked to find that all of the cloaks were like this.

  The instant she accepted, and donned the cloak, the hood drew over her head of its own accord, and she felt the familiar sensation of being teleported.

  She looked up, only to have her head forced down by an unseen hand, a rope was tied around her wrists and she was led along by it. From the rugged terrain, she could tell that they were on the land directly below her cliff, and that Kate must have teleported them down. From the steady, near silent footsteps on either side of her, she could also tell that Ash and Icarus were close by, while the rest of the footsteps seemed to be coming from in front of her.

  They were in a single file line with her at the back, she guessed, and they were leading her to the ‘Coven circle’ whatever that was. And they wanted her to become a wytch queen.

  She stumbled, and immediately she felt a scaled paw under her arm to help her balance. Silently thanking whichever dragon had helped her, she continued walking, all the while trying to watch her step without looking up.

  When she estimated that half an hour of walking had passed, they stopped and she heard a sloshing sound and felt the thrill of magic in the air. She’d been able to feel the mist of the lake near her but now she realised that Kate must be parting the waters for them, this in turn meant that they had been descending the long winding slopes of the underside of the isle for at least part of their journey, and were now at the place where the vast size of the isle was suspended upon the tiny rock. Long ago a treacherous pathway had been built following the contours of the rock as they sloped inwards. It was one of the most dangerous parts of the isle, and she’d just descended it practically blindfolded, even though it had no barrier to keep you from falling into the ocean. She felt fear for the first time, but quenched it immediately; her sisters and her familiars would never allow her to be hurt.

  The procession started again, but this time she glimpsed wet rocks beneath her feet, and the pace was slower. Water sprayed against her, but half an hour later, they stopped.

  She felt grass crunch underfoot and felt the warmth of a large fire. Her hood was left on, but she was walked to a place before the fire, where her bonds were undone. She left her hands clasped at her front on instinct, even as she felt the wind that meant her familiars had landed.

  “Lift your hood, wytch, and gaze upon the seats of the Coven Circle of the Wytch Queens.” She was commanded, and she obliged, lifting her hood back and raising her head to see whatever the Coven Circle was.

  It turned out to be another island, this one just big enough for the circle of thirty seats that were laid out, each untouched by the weather. They were set low down, with plump fabric covering the arms, back and seat of each one. The wytch queens each stood in front of a chair with an insignia identical to that on their dress and cloak. The thirtieth chair, the one she stood opposite, was embellished with a leaf design so beautiful that it took Romana’s breath away, she instinctively knew it had once been Sarah’s and as she looked around the circle, seeing a few blank empty thrones she realised that the coven was incomplete. So where were the missing wytches?

  Her thoughts were derailed at that moment as she finally realised why the dress was so important. The stitching around the top and hem was similar to that which lined the hems, sleeves and necklines of the others’ dresses and cloaks. Although no two patterns were the same, the similarity was definitely there.

  “Sisters.” Kate announced. “The Coven is once again a queen short, but not for much longer. Who have we selected to fill the seat of the Coven?” She enquired of them.

  “Romana of the Dragon Elements,” They answered.

  “Why is she here?”

  “To become a wytch queen,” they chanted back. “To gain her title and take her place in this circle of queens.”

  “What must she first do?”

  “Become a mistress of her magic. Become that which she commands.”

  “What does she command?”

  “Flame and wind, the dragon elements,” they recited.

  “Romana, to become one of us, do you understand what you must do?”

  “I do.” She replied.

  “Then remove the cape of the wytch, for it is no longer yours.” Kate told her. “Step into the flame before you, and commune with your first element.”

  She did as she was told, allowing the cloak to fall from her shoulders and onto the floor, before stepping into the bonfire that was between her and the empty throne.

  As soon as she reached the flame, her body was consumed by it, and it was like nothing she’d ever experienced, she became flame itself. Her entire body just gave way and became the fire. It was one of the most amazing experiences of her life.

  The sights and smells were keener, her breath became the smoke. Her body cracked and fizzled in the most delicious pins and needles feeling she’d ever experienced.

  After a full hour of just experiencing the fire, while the wytch queens watched on patiently, she withdrew on an impulse. As she stepped from the fire, she half expected her dress to have disintegrated, but instead it had remained unscathed. She looked at it in wonder.

  “You have proved your mastery of flame. Now commune with the wind, and prove yourself worthy to gain this honour.” Kate instructed.

  She calmed herself, and then slowly allowed herself to disappear into the air around her. It was almost like being invisible, but this was greater. She became the air itself, felt herself expanding to cover the globe. Another hour passed before she was able to pull herself back to the island. To her surprise, the dress was still intact and on her. Knowing Joanna, it probably had a little extra thread magic in it, and she was grateful that she didn’t have to replace her clothing when she didn’t concentrate on telling it to become fire or air with her.

  “You have proved your worth of the title we will bestow upon you.” Kate informed her. “Pick up the cloak you discarded, and find it bearing of your seal.”

  As Kate spoke, Romana picked up the cloak to find that not only had the cloak changed to bear her seal – two dragons in flight with wings beating, both breathing fire that twined animatedly around her initial – it had changed colour to the same scarlet that her dress was, with the same white stitching around the hem, hood and flared sleeves. She pulled it on to keep the chill off her.

  Warmth flashed across the dress she wore and she looked down to find that her crest had appeared on the bottom left corner of the skirts.

  The throne opposite her had changed as well, the fabric turning from brown to scarlet in a blink of an eye, the edges lined with white, while her seal stitched itself onto the fabric.

  “Come forward, and kneel before your throne.” Kate ordered.

  She followed orders, walking straight through the fire to the seat and kneeling on one knee, her head bowed before the throne.

  “No longer are you Romana the elemental wytch, for your power surpasses even theirs. It is your power and the way in which you are so attuned to it
that is the reason you were selected by the Coven in the days following our fellow queen’s death. It was your personality and ability to deal with responsibility that won you the throne. From now on, you are Romana the dragon wytch to all who know you. But to the Coven of wytch queens, you shall be Romana the Dragon Wytch Queen. Do you accept this title to be your own?”

  “I do so accept the title of dragon wytch queen.”

  “And do you accept that your familiars are Prince Ash and Prince Icarus, the last moonstone and red diamond dragons except for the murderer of our sister?”

  “I do so accept them.”

  “Then rise Romana, Dragon Wytch Queen. Take your seat at this council and know that you now aid in the governing of every sorceress on this world.” Kate told her with a smile, as Romana stood and turned before sitting on the throne.

  Cheers and the roars of the dragons flew through the air in celebration until the dawn, when they walked back to the cliff, Romana leading the way this time, even as Kate explained the rules to her.

  “You are now recognised as one of the most powerful sorceresses in this world. But, this position is to be secret from all save those on the council. No-one can know you’re a wytch queen. It would make you a target by others, even more than your royal blood would.”

  “Would?”

  “Endis, Marten and the rest of the elven royal family have decided to keep your existence a secret until you return to Elvardis. Before then, they plan to ask you to grow your hair so that you look just like Talia.”

  “Should I?”

  “I think you’d look beautiful with long hair.” Kate replied. “But onto the next rule, the one that affects you most now due to King Rolf’s condition. As a wytch queen, you can be summoned to help others by non-magical people. But you may choose to or not to go. If Marten wants your help, he must perform a ritual that will take you to him, wherever he is, and his father must agree to the healing. You cannot heal an unwilling patient. But the final, and most important condition to helping anyone is payment.”

  “Marten offered us another island.”

  “Did he now?” Kate mused. “Now that is certainly interesting. But we always charge for what we need, and as you can see there is no shortage of space here. No, we planned to ask Prince Marten for his co-operation in helping us with a little thing.”

  “What do we need help with?”

  “I want us to establish trade between us and the rest of the world!”

  “What do we have to trade with anyone?” Romana asked.

  “Our magic.”

  “You want to sell magic?” The idea was unheard of, most lesser wytches only left the Isle once or twice a year. Magic was kept to those who were not afraid of it and could wield it.

  “I want us to sell our healing magic, but I understand that our wytches may become targeted by the local people. I want Marten to create us a healing centre, and I want him to help guard our healers.”

  “Why? We’ve never gone out among the people before. We most certainly never sent the healers, who cannot defend themselves, outside the veil.”

  “Because it is time.” Kate replied mysteriously. “And we will be needed.” Then she tacked on. “And when Marten summons you, he will have summoned a wytch queen, but he won’t know it’s you. Use that, protect your identity. Lie.”

  “But when will he summon me?”

  “In around…” Kate trailed off, looking at the moon “…ten seconds.”

  “What?” She asked “A little warning?”

  But Kate just smiled and waved, even as they reached the base of the cliff and Romana was teleported away.

  Chapter Ten

  A SINGLE DAISY

  When she reappeared she smelled incense and smoke, she heard chanting in the background but the hood of her robes prevented her from seeing behind her.

  But she could see Marten and Endis in front of her, both kneeling, with their heads down. Surrounding the three of them, there was a large ring of salt.

  “You called for the aid of a wytch queen, now state your purpose.” She announced in a voice that she used magic to make sure was very different from her own.

  “We humbly request your presence to heal the king of the human realms.” Marten replied.

  “Has King Rolf asked for my help?” She asked.

  “I have,” A frail voice from behind her.

  She turned to look, and found a pale and skeletal looking king on one of the largest beds she’d ever seen.

  “What of my payment?” She asked.

  “Name your price.” Marten replied. “We will give anything we own.”

  “The Coven of Wytch Queen’s knows of your request, Prince Marten. I have been sent to heal your father on the condition you allow us to do the same for others. In return for healing King Rolf, we require a centre made within the walls of Morendor and guarded by its finest, to be made available for our healers. It is to be completed within two weeks of this night, and the public to be made aware of its existence.”

  “Many will not come.” Marten told her.

  “I will remind you that people in great pain will go great lengths.” She gestured to him. “Many will come. And to be guarded by non-offensive guards would be a great favour. The healers are the gentlest of us, with limited defence against the world. If they could have accommodation in the centre it would be excellent.”

  “Would only those with powers that can only be used for healing come?” She heard him choose his words carefully, and knew that they were a carefully disguised question into whether or not she would be coming back.

  “Prince Marten, we may choose to send Romana the dragon wytch to the new centre, or we may not.” She replied, seeing through his words. “She has passed her final initiations now, but the only thing that matters in this room right now is whether or not you accept our price and if you vow to build such a centre with the help of one of our architects.”

  “I accept your price, and vow to build a healing centre under the advisement of an ambassador from the Coven of wytch queens.”

  “You ensure that it will be only the powerful among us who travel to your castle, why?” She demanded, needing to know of any threats.

  “Because I will not deal with someone who constantly needs to check with a superior as to what they can and cannot do.”

  “Your answer is satisfactory.” She replied, breathing a sigh of relief as she sensed the truth. “I shall heal you father now.”

  “You have our thanks.” Endis quickly inserted as Marten abandoned protocol yet again.

  In reply she silently moved over to the bedside and ringed her hands in a ribbon of twirling flame.

  “Give me your hand, your highness.” She instructed. “You must do this for yourself.”

  Although the king looked far too weak to move, he stirred slightly, and although it clearly cost him a lot of effort he raised one of his hands to be clasped by both of hers. Kate had been wrong, she thought as she sent the fire deep into his body. There was no way that the king could have survived for two months, the disease was acting fast.

  The fire tunnelled through him like lightning; with it she rejuvenated his system, and killed the parasites that floated in his bloodstream. When she was done, he was as healthy as he could be at his age and she stepped back, the glow that had spread from her to cover him extinguishing in a heartbeat.

  Once it was done, she dropped the calling card of the Coven, a single daisy, on the floor, and communed with the air again, but this time, choosing to become substantial once more in her home.

  “Well done.” Kate said as she reappeared. “You’ve just mastered teleporting with air.”

  “No-one ever told me I could do that.” She accused.

  “That’s because only a wytch queen can.” Kate explained. “You can also travel between fires as well, just so you know. That’s how you arrived there.” So that was why she’d smelled smoke.

  “Thanks.” She replied dryly. “Can I sleep now, or will I hav
e to do something else?” She walked away anyway, worn out from all the things that had happened in just a few short hours.

  “The healing centre will need to be watched over by one of our number.” Kate called as Romana began turning away. “We will alternate. But you will need to go there at some point. It’s time you stopped hiding.”

  “I’m not hiding.” Romana protested, turning to face her.

  “You are. You’re hiding from Marten, from your title and from your pursuers. The people of Morendor are suffering once again. The Viper rises in the west and you are called to save them.”

  “No. Silver is called.” Romana replied. “And is this not a place of sanctuary? Is it not allowed for me to hide?”

  “I never knew you were such a coward.” Kate argued. “You’re scared of Silver too, aren’t you? You like the fact that I’ve blocked her here. Well, maybe that should change. Maybe tomorrow evening I will lift the enchantment holding her back. Maybe I’ll send you as envoy to Morendor to oversee the building of the centre. In fact, I’m going to send you there anyway, just because you need to see how much Marten will need you. And after that, I’m going to make you an ambassador to the realms. Heaven knows we need one, and we need someone who can be the public face of this Isle, why shouldn’t we show a wytch queen as that face?”

  “What about Katelyn and Bronwyn? What about Icarus and Ash? I won’t be able to see them. Marten would know that they were connected to me; he would find out that I was a wytch queen. I’d have to take my hood down at one point as well.”

  “That’s easily done. We say you’re a gorgon, a creature so beautiful you turn others to ash if they look upon your face.”

  “A gorgon.” She replied dryly. “That’s your great plan? Pretend I’m a creature from the deep forest that not many people see and live to tell the tale.”

  “Yes. And we can make it more believable too.”

  “How?”