by Brandon Witt
Zef tilted his head to the side, considering the allegation. The sunshine filtering down from the surface highlighted the scars across his face and torso. “In truth, I was but one of many. All tribes made the decision.” He shrugged as he reconsidered, the distinction inconsequential. “All but two. I was merely the one who discovered the possibility.”
Though, by their actions, the tribe had already believed Zef’s guilt, their tension was palpable at his confession.
“To my knowledge, I am the only one still alive from that period of our history. The rest fell in the wars that occurred after.” Zef’s gaze left Ventait and traveled over the large group of rescued mers that tightened around us. “Are there any remaining?”
“No.”
At Ventait’s words, Zef looked back at him.
“They were used up long before I was taken to them, but they passed down stories. Stories of you. Of the monster who traded them for vampire blood.”
I’d expected the Chromis to recoil at this, but they showed nothing greater than disgust at Ventait’s words. Of course, Syleen and Lelas would have already shared the Scarus queen’s claim.
Zef’s words took on a different tone. Still not unkind, but filled with a pride I’d never heard in him before. “It was not my will, young Ventait.” His gaze flicked to Syleen but quickly returned to the merman. “Do you believe I had the power to overtake a vampire? Do you believe that could come from me?”
Ventait didn’t answer, but confusion cut through some of the fury as he tried to make sense of Zef’s questions.
Not needing a reply, Zef continued, his tone growing more prideful and tinted with something akin to reverence. “I was attacked by a vampire over three millennia ago, nearly killed. I fought him off. With my teeth.” Zef looked around, including all in his story. “Me. A merman, fighting off a vampire with my teeth. That is the power of Moheetla, not a mere merman.”
It was Syleen who surged forward, not Ventait, and stopped inches from the captive’s face. “You go too far, Zef. This is nothing but blasphemy.”
He sneered dismissively at her. “You are but a newborn, Syleen. You have not seen the power of Moheetla. Only heard tales of olden days. Here is one you have not heard.” All his attention was focused on Syleen, each word told like a schoolteacher enlightening a student who’d grown too full of himself. “It was nearly twenty years before I understood why all others were aging and I was not. Only then did I seek out a vampire and offer the exchange. It was a meager handful of mers in comparison to the vastness of our numbers back then. A handful for the immortality of all, Syleen.”
For the first time since I’d seen her, the queen was struck dumb. Only disgusted horror etched across her face.
“That is Moheetla. His hand was in every aspect in his provisions for his children. In giving them life.” Zef tried to gesture down at his body, but Rulus held his chain too tightly. “I would not be capable of defeating a vampire, much less of seeking another one out so easily. It was the plan and will of Moheetla. His desire. His gift. It was his power and his will.”
Syleen continued to stare at him. For once, she was unable to keep her emotions hidden. “We will see the will of Moheetla.”
“I am not returning with the Chromis after Zef’s death.” Ventait floated the thirty or forty feet above the ocean floor beside me, his billowing red hair like fire in the sun’s rays.
I had to force myself to look at Ventait. I’d already said good-bye to too many I loved. Somehow, though, it only seemed right as we watched the scene playing out below us. “I had a feeling you were going to say that.”
“I have to figure things out. It is too much. Too much has changed. Maybe my father is still out there somewhere, searching for me.”
I wanted to tell him that the likelihood of that was nearly impossible. However, the same had been said about finding him, and here he was. “Will you at least return to the tribe and tell Lelas?”
“I already did before we set out on this charade. She understands.”
Of course she did. She’d chosen not to come, saying she’d seen too much death. Only the twins and Greylin had come with Therin, Syleen, Ventait, and myself. Flain and Rulus each held one of Zef’s chains the entire journey. The sisters never even let go of them in their sleep.
I’d expected it to take weeks, like when we’d left on the Great Spirit hunt. It only took two days to find Moheetla’s servants of judgment.
Zef hadn’t fought the sentencing. Nor had he struggled or attempted to get away. Even when Syleen sliced his arms and swam up to join us to observe his fate, he didn’t flinch. Maybe he was that stoic, or possibly after three thousand years of life, he was ready to be done. I was willing to bet, however, that he was delusional enough to believe he was on the right side of things and Moheetla would save him, thus giving sanction to his actions all those years ago.
“Thank you for finding us, for doing what I could not do for my people.”
My heart broke at Ventait’s words, how he continued to berate himself for not being able to save the mers.
I didn’t answer. I couldn’t.
I followed the merman’s gaze down through the fathoms of water.
Zef’s blood rose toward us like smoke.
We watched, suspended above him for so long, I began to fear Moheetla really was going to grant a pardon.
Finally, a solitary shark appeared. Diminutive and weak-looking. No possible way Zef would fail in defending himself against such an adversary.
The small creature twisted gracefully around the thrust of Zef’s blade and darted with preternatural speed toward the merman’s throat.
Within moments, clouds of dark-crimson blood obscured our view of the shark’s next strike.
Epilogue
FINN DE MORISCO
The sunset was a dark violet, only thin slivers of gold cutting through the edges. Far off in the distance from the cliff, out over the sea, lightning flashed, ominous clouds billowing into a storm.
I felt my lips curve in a smile. Caitlin wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. The idea of rainbows, white fluffy clouds, and birds singing would have just pissed her off.
Realizing my focus had drifted again, I brought my gaze back to the willow tree, its long, leafy branches swaying in the warm breeze. I heard the crowd chanting, the singsong quality matching the haze I didn’t seem able to bring myself out from under.
I settled on the five white Japanese irises that still blossomed by the root of the tree. It almost seemed wrong that they were still there. Brett was gone again, back into the ocean. Even our final good-bye was blurred in my memory. The journey was done. The mers were free. Cynthia was free. It was over. Why should the irises remain?
Brett was gone.
Caitlin was gone.
The singing stopped abruptly, and I felt a hand warm against my lower back. I looked to the right and found Schwint smiling at me tenderly. Beyond him, Dad stood holding Saul in one arm, his other wrapped tightly around Mom, whose silent tears hadn’t stopped flowing since we’d arrived home. Beside them, Christina, Ricky, and Peter stood nestled close to Mom and Dad. Closing the line of family was Allison, tears streaming down her delicate face. Caitlin would have liked that too. Loved it, actually. She’d never stopped hoping she and Allison would reunite.
Somehow, I felt removed from them. They had a different grief than mine. They hadn’t been there. They hadn’t seen her die, hadn’t held her in their arms.
A finger stroked the back of my other hand, then pulled away. Without looking, even if I hadn’t known she was there, I would have recognized Cynthia. Her power was a palpable force.
Mission accomplished. Cynthia, the gentle one of the de Morisco children, was home. The sister I loved the most was beside me. Yet she was as far away as Caitlin. She was no longer the same witch she’d been before her capture.
I glanced back toward the rest of my family. They hadn’t been there. Though they hurt, they hadn’t seen it happen,
hadn’t witnessed the loss of Caitlin and of Cynthia.
“Get ready, my love.”
Schwint’s whisper brought my attention back to him, and he gestured with his yellow eyes for me to look above us. He’d been there. He knew. He understood.
Looking up, I saw the silver disc of Caitlin’s ashes whirling above us. I hadn’t even noticed the nymphs’ arrival or heard them usher Caitlin’s soul back to the creator.
The silver specks descended around us, and I breathed deep, pulling her essence into me.
Silver.
Caitlin’s ashes were silver.
Her greatest power had been love. She never would have guessed. It didn’t surprise me at all.
Shifting Silver
November 3, 2020
-a Men of Myth novella-
The year is 1618, and Allakau is different from the other members of the Alaskan Yupik tribe. His people survive by hunting, but Allakau is unable to kill or eat flesh. As another season reaches its end and winter approaches, Allakau encounters a narwhal with silver eyes similar to his own. He saves the creature’s life but incurs his father’s wrath, and Allakau is given one last chance to prove himself a productive part of the tribe or be left behind to die. As he spends time alone in the woods, clues about his past and destiny begin to fall into place with the aid of another silver-eyed creature. His hunt might finally lead him to the truth about what sets him apart and where he belongs—if he can survive it.
Shifting Silver
Emerging Rebellion
November 17 2020
-a Men of Myth novella-
AUTHOR’S NOTE & ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
-This is from the 1st edition. Men of Myth remains one of my favorite works I’ve created, and I wanted to leave this moment captured in time.-
And there we have it. Years of being with my men of myth (at least Brett, Finn, and Schwint) are over. I want to dive back in. Refuse to say good-bye. Find a way to save Wrell, Nalu, and Caitlin. Oh, Caitlin. I loved you!
Lord and publisher willing, or Moheetla for that matter, there are more Men of Myth in the making. Newton is about to come into his own. And you’ll see some, if not all, of the characters you loved and/or hated again. There are a few books I have to write before I return to this world, but I can’t wait to get back to it.
Dear reader, thank you for staying with me, with us, for this entire journey. Now that books one and two are out—and I know how much people hate a cliffhanger and a breakup and dark stories in general—it means so much that you made it to this page. While I understand why some people may not like some of the events or happenings in these first three novels of my mythic men, I plead not guilty. I was on this ride just as much as you were. I only reported what happened. And yes, I realize I just proved that authors are psychotic. Don’t let anyone tell you any different.
Elizabeth—thank you for the chance to tell this story and for putting up with my endless questions, stubborn disposition, and for taking a chance on my men. Every ounce of my gratitude is yours.
Desi—I can’t find the correct words to tell you thank you adequately. You’re one of my three fairy godmothers. Brian—thank you for being a part of editing all three of the Men of Myth books. Your humor, talent, and encouragement were invaluable. Raxi—your input was vital. Thank you for being willing to jump in with such gusto on the third book of a series!
Anne—I loved all of the covers you’ve made for my boys, but this one is my favorite! Goodness, the spell you cast!
Trenton—I meant what I said in the dedication. I am so thankful for your life and that you are my brother. You really were my wish come true.
Stephen—I love you, my beautiful man. Thank you for all your editing on these last two novels. I won’t ask you to do it again. Probably. Without you and Schwint, there wouldn’t be much happiness to be found.
Mom and Dad—as ever, I could not face this life without you. I love you.
Gavin—you are the best nephew in the world. Actually, you’re just the best. Period. I love you!
Michael Mouse—your endless love and support is humbling. Thank you for informing me that Hawaii doesn’t have kelp forests. Even if it made me have to rewrite and rewrite!
Sonia—only a woman as strong and beautiful as yourself could have inspired the Sonia of Men of Myth. And even if she shouldn’t be, she’s my favorite!
Eric Arvin—if it weren’t for you, I never would have discovered Dreamspinner, and who knows how much longer before my own dreams would have started to come true. Thank you for your monumental role in my journey. (Dear Readers, if you haven’t, please check out all of Eric Arvin’s books. The one that changed my life, literally, was Woke Up In a Strange Place. Don’t stop there, though; every book I’ve read by Mr. Arvin is a masterpiece in its own right.)
Colette Saucier—it’s been so fun to be able to talk publishing, writing, and everything in between with you. Thank you for your support, promotion opportunities, and friendship. You make writing romance look easy! Check out her wonderful books, folks!!!!
Ray and Joey—thank you for your support from the very beginning. You helped me keep going and fighting through all the rejections.
Charity—thank you for being my muse on a certain vampire. You are timeless.
Cathy B.—thank you for being the first official person to ever review one of my novels, for taking the time to inquire about Men of Myth before it ever reached editing, and for your constant support and concern.
Patrick—can’t wait for this next album. What writing it will inspire!
http://www.patrickalancasey.com/
Kevin—I love you always. Now that you’ve got your husband, time to start making some babies!
Paul, Christa, Stella, and Dayli—there are no words for the love I have for you or the joy you bring into my life.
Dunkyn and Dolan—your story is coming. I love you, my little men!
About the Author
Brandon Witt received his roots in the Ozark, grew wings in Denver, and is learning to fly in New Orleans. When not snuggled on the couch with his two dogs and his partner, Stephen, he is more than likely in front of his computer, nose inches from the screen, fingers pounding the keys.
Please Visit the following links for more information and to keep up to date on new releases:
Website: BrandonWitt.com
The Brandon Witt Witty Readers Facebook Group: Witty Readers
Amazon: Brandon’s Author Page
Also by Brandon Witt
All arriving in 2020
Standalone Novels and Novellas
Then the Stars Fall
Imperfection of Swans
Son of Money
The Shattered Door
Under a Sky of Ash
Second Helpings, Novella
Fan Boy, a Kinky, Erotic Short Story
Rocky Mountain Boys Series
Mapping the Forest - a Rocky Mountain Boys Novel
Braving the Rapids - a Rocky Mountain Boys Novel
Mary’s Boys Series
Nachos & Hash, Novella
Vodka & Handcuffs, Novella
Mascara & Bandages, Novella
Deeds & Confetti, Novella
The Mary’s Boys Collection
Men of Myth Series
Submerging Inferno
Rising Frenzy
Clashing Tempest
Shifting Silver, Novella
Emerging Rebellion, Novella
The Men of Myth Collection
Collections
Short Stories
Christmas Tales
Lavender Shores
Also written by Brandon Witt, under the pen name of Rosalind Abel. The Lavender Shores series is pure MM romance with trope-filled, steamy goodness. You won’t be left wanting, and all guaranteed happily ever-afters.
The Palisade
The Garden
The Veranda
The Shipwreck
The Hideaway
The Glasshouse
The Alcove
The Wilderness
The Victorian
Also available in Audio Format,
Read by Kirt Graves
Lavender Shores
Cozy Corgi Mysteries
Also written by Brandon Witt, under the pen name of Mildred Abbot. The Cozy Corgi is a Cozy Culinary Mystery series that follow Winifred Page and her corgi, Watson, as they move to Estes Park, Colorado, to open a dream bookshop. Every installment features a chubby, grumpy corgi and a recipe. Oh, yes, and each also features a murder. Did I forget to mention murder? —These are the perfect stories to curl up with right before bed.
Cruel Candy
Traitorous Toys
Bickering Birds
Savage Sourdough
Scornful Scones
Chaotic Corgis
Quarrelsome Quartz
Wicked Wildlife
Malevolent Magic
Killer Keys
Perilous Pottery
Ghastly Gadgets
Meddlesome Money
Precarious Pasta
Evil Elves
Phony Photos
Despicable Desserts
Chattering Chipmunks
Vengeful Vellum
Also available in Audio Format,
Read by Angie Hickman
