Kate's Legacy (Soul Merge Saga Book 2)

by M. P. A. Hanson

  In answer, Kate came forward and placed her hands on the top of Romana’s head. Instantly she felt a brushing sensation on her shoulders and looked down.

  Her hair had grown longer to brush down to her waist in long waves.

  “What’s this for?”

  “Gorgons are said to have long hair, you’d stand out like a black sheep if you went riding into the city claiming to be the one gorgon in the world who had short hair.”

  “But Marten might recognise my scent.”

  “Do you or do you not know what smoke does to your scent? You control fire, walk through one enough times or get Icarus or Ash to breathe on you. Either way you won’t smell of much other than brimstone for twenty-four hours afterwards.” Kate moved her hands to Romana’s ears.

  “Hey! What are you doing now?”

  “Giving you normal ears.”

  “It’s just an illusion right?”

  “Very much so.” Kate replied. “As is this.” She pressed down on the corner of Romana’s eyes, making them tear. “Hello brown eyes.” Then she grabbed a strand of hair and blew on it. Instantly it all turned a pale gold. “Perfect.” She touched Romana’s lips and instantly she felt a prickling in her throat.

  “You can undo all this, right?” She said in a tinkling voice so unlike her own she gaped in surprise.

  “Certainly.” Kate replied. “Now, sleep well. And don’t forget to tell Icarus and Ash that you look different if you don’t want to get toasted in the morning.”

  “Will do.” Romana replied. “But about the ambassador thing, do I have to—”

  “Yes.” Kate interrupted. “I decided.”

  “I’m not a coward.”

  “You won’t be.” Kate replied. “As for what I said about Silver. I meant that too. But I’m taking the enchantment off now. She is needed, at least, if you want Marten to make it through the night.”

  “What’s happening?”

  “He’s riding hard for Morendor as we speak. He’ll be there in days since he has fresh horses posted along the way. But for those days Kobos will attack constantly. He will need her.”

  “If you’re sure.” Romana replied. “There’s no other way.”

  “No there isn’t. And I took the liberty of bringing you something.”

  Kate pulled out a pile of black leather, and everything went black.

  Chapter Eleven

  CONSIDERABLY BORING AGONY

  Silver changed quickly, thankful to be out of that hellhole she’d been stuck in for who knew how long. As soon as she’d strapped her swords to her back she made a dragon of flame appear over her hand.

  “Neat.” She muttered to herself.

  “No. Power is not to be used here.” Kate ordered. “Don’t make me command you, Night Angel.”

  Silver smirked. “I got over my good phase ages ago.”

  “Yet you’ve never given me reason to kill you.”

  “You’ve come pretty close to it.” Silver replied, using the air to teleport her to Jayde as she began to saddle her up.

  “Yes, I have, but you are not to use that magic.” Kate ordered. “Not unless it is to teleport to and from this isle and Morendor. Understand me?” The words this time were imbued with magic compulsion, and Silver tried to summon flame again only to find that she couldn’t. “Spoil sport.” She growled.

  “I’m protecting your identity, and Romana’s.”

  “Oh, sorry for endangering our little protégé.” Silver retorted. “Has she been all you expected Kate dear. Did she grow up all nice?”

  “She did.” Kate informed her. “Now stop whining and get going.”

  “Stop using compulsion on me!” Silver yelled even as she strapped her bow and quiver to the saddle.

  “No. I won’t, it’s the only way to ensure your behaviour. You’re partially insane, Talia daughter of Hira, and you need to be helped.”

  “Whatever.” Silver replied. “And just so you know. I don’t answer to that name anymore. I go by Silver, providing that your illusions disappeared with the change.” She pulled out a sword and was satisfied to find that her reflection was as it should be, silver eyes, black shoulder length hair, pointed ears.

  “If Marten ends up dead, I’ll give you another eighteen years of hell.” Kate promised. “He’s vital.”

  “I forgot you see the future, so what happens? Does Romana get the guy?”

  “I can’t tell you. No spoilers allowed in this job.” Kate replied. “Now, get going.”

  The compulsion allowed no argument, and so Silver was forced to teleport both herself, and the horse to wherever Marten was in that instant.

  She ended up on the outskirts of a battlefield, where Endis and Marten were battling large numbers of goblins along with the remains of their guard.

  She shot an arrow into the fray. It whistled as it flew from the bow, creating a loud screeching noise; it had been cut that way: to provide a distraction or attention should she need either.

  At once all eyes turned to the spot where the arrow had come from, and she rode from the trees.

  Several of the hideous goblins fled then and there, scrambling away from what they sensed was a larger predator. Goblins were chickens, only attacking when they had the clear advantage, if you brought a bigger fish into the fight, they’d run in seconds, as evidenced by the soon empty battlefield.

  “You may applaud me now, gentlemen.” She said to the five remaining guards and the two princes. “I just saved you, yet again.” She let out a bored sigh.

  “YOU!” Marten yelled with a murderous look in his eyes. “Where the hell have you been?”

  “Now that isn’t nice is it princeling.” She replied. “For your information I spent the last few months in considerably boring agony under worthless and pointless torture.” She paused. “Although I did pick up a few pointers.”

  That seemed to calm Marten down a bit. “So who did you kill this time?”

  “I threatened, I didn’t actually kill them.” She corrected. “But, as you can see, I’m fine. Although, If you’re offering to re-bandage the burns on my calves that haven’t quite healed yet, then go ahead.” She looped a foot out of the stirrups and held it forwards. “What? No takers?” She put the foot back, and then looked at Endis. “Don’t tell me you’re still mad at me for the toothbrush thing.”

  “Why are you here?”

  “Why? Why, why? Why? Why, why, why?” She tried the word out in her mouth a little bit. “Now, I may have been forced by a certain newly-wytch to come over here and save your cute wittle royal bottoms, once she was told you would die tonight if I didn’t.”

  “Was it Romana who sent you?”

  “Hmmm, maybe.”

  Marten gave an exasperated sigh. “Well you can go now.”

  “Nope, orders are to stay with you and save you the twenty or so times that the goblins come back. Kobos can be very persuasive apparently.”

  “I’m sure he can be.” Marten replied. “But—”

  “Actually, I can’t be asked to wait for you. Give me a moment and we’ll skip all this rubbish.”

  She calmed herself before selecting an air current and using it to teleport them all into the castle courtyard.

  Marten looked around, stunned for a moment and then looked at her accusingly.

  “What?” She asked. “I’m bored. And you have a wytch queen arriving to meet you tomorrow. She’s a gorgon, so no looking into that pretty little face.” Marten gaped again. “Bye-bye.” She told him with a cheeky little wave, before teleporting back to the stables on the island. The real reason she’d left was because dawn would be coming soon, and Romana would need to be seen riding through the palace gates by that time.

  “You’re back early.”

  “I teleported them all to Morendor instead of riding.” She told Kate. “No objections I trust.”

  “None.” Kate replied. “Allie, come and work your magic.”

  A small wytch who Silver hadn’t met before stepped forwards and car
efully touched several places on Jayde’s head, turning the horse straight from sleek black to a dappled grey colour instead.

  “It is done.” Allie said. “She won’t change from this colour until I command her to.”

  “Good. Now, as for you.” Kate waved someone else forward and Silver felt the catsuit melt away and be replaced by the dress and cloak from before, although this time the cloak had a veil over the front of the hood. “Joanna can pack this away in Romana’s rooms for you. Now turn back.”

  “I hate compulsion,” Silver muttered as she was forced back to the murky black of Romana’s subconscious.

  Chapter Twelve

  DEFENCE MECHANISM

  “Romana, there isn’t much time.” Kate said as Romana surfaced blearily and found herself standing next to Jayde. “Put these on.” She was ordered, and she found knee length black boots being pressed into her hands.

  She changed swiftly, and then tried to mount Jayde, only to find herself in the dress from before.

  “Joanna, fix that will you?” Kate requested, even as she strapped a pack to the back of Romana’s saddle.

  Immediately the threads of the dress began to move and re-shape themselves into a long sleeved red top with her crest moved over her heart, and a pair of white trousers.

  “They’ll clean themselves.” Joanna told her at Romana’s raised eyebrow. “They’ll also respond to your thoughts, changing to anything you can think of, except for camel hair. For some reason it won’t work on that. And now, for the finishing touch…”

  A daisy appeared on each side of the saddle.

  “Now go. Dawn is nearly here.” Kate told her, teleporting her before she could say goodbye.

  She found herself on the very edge of Morendor, a farmer in the field beside the road gawking at her like she was a unicorn. She pulled her hood far over her face, moved the dark veil so it obscured her features completely, wiped the farmer’s memory, and spurred Jayde on, wishing that Kate could have been a little more accurate with her teleporting. Or maybe the Ancient wanted her to ride through the city. Who knew?

  She pushed Jayde into a trot, and rode through the city, ignoring the fearful looks and cries of wytch. They were wrong anyway, she was a wytch queen. Some of the people looked up at her in hope as she passed, and it was these she paid attention. These were the ones that Kate wanted them to help. When she was in sight of the palace, she heard their yells to open the gates, and then the groaning of wood as they were opened.

  She skidded to a stop in the courtyard, where the prince was waiting for her.

  “Prince Marten, the Lady of the Isle sends her regards.” She informed him, dismounting with a flourish and feeling her clothes transform seamlessly back into her dress as she did so.

  “I don’t believe we’ve been acquainted miss…”

  “Ms Amelia Jones.” She quickly manufactured the name in her head.

  “Nice to meet you Ms Jones.” The prince replied. “I hear you’re a gorgon.”

  “Yes. I would not advise ridding me of my cloak at any time.” She advised.

  “Were you the wytch who healed my father last night?”

  “Yes.” She replied. “I was chosen by the Coven to answer your summons.”

  “Thank-you, but now would you be so kind as to allow me to walk you to your rooms?” He offered.

  “So polite.” She murmured. “But I’m afraid I cannot stay here on a permanent basis. I have many duties upon the Isle to do whenever I am not supervising the design and construction.”

  “I understand. But just in case anything occurs that requires you to stay overnight, we have some readied for you.”

  “Prince Marten, you are doing a very good job of attempting to put me in a room where your spies can get turned to ash where they stand in my fireplace.”

  “There is a rumour that those truly in love will never succumb to the gorgons curse.”

  “And do you know of such a person?”

  “Perhaps, yet I would not test the theory upon them.” He admitted.

  “And by the way, your highness, I do not consider myself cursed.”

  “What do you consider yourself?” He asked.

  “Blessed.” She replied. “I consider my defence mechanism a complete blessing. It has saved my life more than once.”

  He offered her his arm, and she took it, even as he led her into the palace.

  “The design team arrives in an hour.” He told her. “Would you like to share breakfast with me before then?”

  “I would love to.” She replied.

  “Excellent.”

  “What was your plan if I said no?” She asked.

  “I’m not sure.” He replied.

  “Feeling in the dark with how to entertain a wytch queen?”

  “Definitely,” He replied “To be honest, I have no idea what to do with you.”

  “Have you got a library?”

  “Yes.” He replied.

  “Then that is what you should do with me.” She replied. “Give me some alone time in the library, and make sure your servants know to knock before they look.”

  “Would you like me to arrange for you to have breakfast there?” Did he know how much he sounded like a butler when he spoke to her?

  “That would be wonderful.” She replied. “And I have a message to you from Romana.”

  “What is it?” He asked his voice hopeful.

  “I believe Kate spoke to you about saying please and thank-you…”

  “Please would you tell me what Romana said?”

  “She said to tell you that she will be visiting soon, and would like to know if it would be okay to bring Icarus and Ash along with her.”

  “Soon being when?” He asked.

  “She will be working in the healing centre.” Romana confirmed. “I take it construction will now take less than a week.”

  “It depends.” He replied. “Has Romana told you about me?”

  “If you mean, has she told me that you possess the animal traits. No. I read it from her mind.”

  “You read her mind?”

  “When she allowed me to, we were working on her training.” She clarified.

  “Well my animal doesn’t trust something about you. Prove you are who you say you are.” He demanded.

  “Do you have a small animal you don’t care about me killing?” She asked.

  “I can have one brought to us.” He replied.

  “No need.” She told him, moving over to a window where she could see a pigeon resting. “Stay behind me.” She ordered.

  She lowered her hood, displaying the pale hair Kate had given her, and at the same time sent a blast of fire straight to the pigeon, vaporising it where it stood, leaving only black ash in its place. She quickly drew the hood back up and turned to face him.

  “I see.” He said.

  “Believe me now?” She asked.

  “Yes. But my animal still doesn’t like it.” He frowned, but opened the door to the library and led her through. “So tell me about the centre, why choose now?”

  “Kate said it was time.”

  “She really is an Ancient?”

  “Yes.” She replied, turning around to see the jaguar’s eyes staring at her.

  “Do you dye your hair?” He asked, his eyes changing back quickly. “And use magic on your eyes and ears?”

  “No, but it appears your jaguar is resistant to glamour.” She replied.

  “So who are you really if not Amelia Jones?”

  “A wytch queen’s identity is always a complete secret to protect us. Only others on the council know my true identity. For the purposes of our transaction, I am a gorgon named Amelia Jones with blonde hair.”

  “So you are not truly a gorgon.”

  “No. But it was a convenient excuse to keep you from recognising me from your stay on the isle.”

  “So have I met you?”

  “Maybe, maybe not. We were unsure.”

  “Has Romana met you?”

  �
�We are good friends. Now, back to business, will you please show in the design team, who arrived about an hour after yourself, in here so we can talk?”

  Marten merely shrugged, and opened the doors to talk to a guard posted outside. Long minutes later, the design team entered, all of them looking more than a little nervous, and laid out their plans on the large table.

  She moved up towards the table and glanced at the plans, noticing how as she moved forwards everyone else moved back.

  “Gentlemen, I have no intention of burning any of you, I do not carry the plague and I most certainly do not feel like killing anyone today. Should you continue to act like I do, I may have to change my mind about the later.

  As one they stepped closer and she smiled slightly from under the veil she wore.

  “This part here,” She pointed to a part on the first floor, “what is this?”

  “An operating theatre ma’am.” One of the men informed her.

  “It will not be required.” She replied. “Our magic can pass across spaces; most times we do not even require contact to heal.”

  “We’re sorry, we were unsure.” He apologised.

  “And this, what is this?” She asked, pointing to a large room.

  “Sterilisation chamber ma’am.” Another informed her.

  “We require no instruments to heal. Please remove from your minds the image of us as doctors in a hospital.”

  “Perhaps, instead of correcting them, you could tell them what the Coven had envisaged.” Prince Marten suggested.

  “We would like separate consulting rooms for around twelve healers with a reception area large enough to accommodate two receptionists and some waiting chairs.”

  “You plan to employ local people?”

  “Perhaps.” She replied. “Would they take kindly to offers of employment from wytches?” She addressed the question to Prince Marten.

  “Who knows in this city?” He said. “I’ve done more outrageous things than this and they’ve gone along with it.”

  “What else would be required?” An architect enquired.

  “Accommodation for around twenty wytches is necessary, and around five top floor offices would be appreciated.”

  “Who would the offices be for?”