Island Shifters: Book 01 - An Oath of the Blood (2 page)

Bowing in mock humor to the throng of Pyraanians, Beck carefully and with as much dignity as he could salvage, sidled to Chasin and remounted, sneering at Kiernan the entire time. She laughed again and dug her heels into her horse’s flanks causing the animal to leap away. Guiding the mare expertly over to Jorge, she easily caught the winning purse he threw her way without stopping and held the bag of coins overhead as she took a victory lap around the field.

Beck grudgingly smiled and waited patiently while she graciously accepted congratulatory shouts from the crowd and then followed behind when she exited the arena onto City Boulevard to set out for Mincer’s Stables at the edge of town. Wearing black leather trousers, short jacket, fitted corset and leather arm pads, Beck decided she looked exactly like the Warrior Princess she was. He always thought her an extraordinary blend of brute strength and subtle femininity and that belief was more in evidence today than ever. Her mastery in sword fighting, near blademaster rank, and her innate ability to anticipate the moves of much larger adversaries, made her a lethal fighter.

She was also one of his best friends.

Raising an eyebrow, he coolly appraised her slightly arched back and the soft curve of her hips as she swayed slowly in her saddle. He could see the firmness of her thighs through the leather as they gripped the horse tightly, and silky blonde hair fell down her back in soft waves. Still holding her helmet cradled in the nook of one arm while she rode, she suddenly glanced back and fixed him firmly in incandescent eyes that, as a mindshifter, held entirely too much knowledge about the thoughts of others.

Beck sucked in his breath guiltily and held it.

After a long moment, she smiled, amused, and gestured with her head for him to ride beside her and then turned to the front again.

He let out his breath slowly, wondering where this sudden admiration of his best friend’s physical appearance was coming from. As he considered the uncertainty of these new and stirring feelings, he was without a doubt
very
certain about one thing. If Kiernan knew, she would bash his skull in.

Gently nudging Chasin to a brisk walk, he turned his thoughts to Festival and his impending departure the following day for The Crown Bluffs. Today and long into the night, the residents of Parsis would be celebrating their biennial Homage Festival, and he smiled as the townsfolk lining City Boulevard enthusiastically took part in all manner of events ranging from archery competitions and arm wrestling to eating contests, and even dancing and drinking— although it was not much past the mid-day hour. The normally reserved citizens of Parsis had been in high spirits for weeks baking, decorating and sprucing up the buildings and shops along the wide, tree-lined boulevard, but all of their hard work was now long forgotten as they basked in merriment.

Beck reached Kiernan and together they idly followed the curve of the roadway around the square picking their way through the celebration. Mistress Halloran, the rotund innkeeper of the Unicorn’s Tail Inn, hurried out into the bright afternoon carrying a plate of pastries. She nodded a greeting as soon as she noticed them and shouted up to him, “Did you win, my boy?”

Heat flushing his cheeks, he shook his head curtly. Mistress Halloran offered him a sympathetic smile and then waved as she continued on her way. Beck noted her leaving and then paused. He could have sworn that out of the corner of his eye he saw the plump little woman jump in the air with a skip of cheer! His head snapped around when he also thought he heard a snicker coming from beside him but, with the noise of the city, could not be sure. And, Kiernan
was
looking at him with such questioning innocence.

Continuing through the square, he caught sight of Katrin Allendale, a classmate at the Academy, face flushed as she skipped from partner to partner in a lively reel in tune to the music of a pear-shaped lyra played by her elderly grandfather. Master Jakob Martyn, the hawk-faced grocer and tavern owner, was lounging at a table outside of his establishment wiping a towel across his sweating brow and sharing ale with patrons. He waved as they passed.

The next Homage Festival will be for me
, thought Beck with satisfaction. This year, the celebration was in honor of Troop 157 of the Northwatch Legion who was ending their two-year tour of duty as defenders of The Crown Bluffs or simply “The Bluffs” as it was referred to most. As a member of the newly-formed Troop 158, Beck’s detachment would replace the returning legionnaires. Every two years, all boys who reached the age of eighteen were required to join the Pyraan Northwatch Legion and travel to The Bluffs for a tour of Legion duty. For the residents of Pyraan, a land of disgraced exiles, it had been this way for three hundred years and would continue to be for this protection of the island was in repayment of a debt owed to all of Massa. A debt recorded in the history tomes and owed to all of the men, the Elves and the Dwarves by the Magical Kingdom of Pyraan.

It was only right, thought Beck glumly. After all, every Massan knew that it was the magic users who destroyed the world.

After passing through nearly all of the merriment in companionable silence, Beck arrived at Mincer’s Stables with Kiernan. Apart from the occasional bark of a dog, it was quiet at this end of the city with most residents gathered around the square and the arenas. Dismounting, Beck waited for Kiernan to do the same, and then led Chasin through the wide stable doors. “I let you win, you know,” he said, glancing sideways at her.

She looked at him incredulously. “You really expect me to believe that?”

“No,” he said laughing. “Even Jorge confided to me that he bet a silver groat on the Princess.” He held up a finger. “And, I have strong suspicions about Mistress Halloran as well.”

Kiernan smiled as she gently rubbed the nose of her mare. “You would have won if you were not so distracted about the journey tomorrow,” she conceded. “Are you that excited to be leaving?”

Beck shrugged cautiously and led Chasin to one of the open stalls. “I guess so.” He was actually more than excited, but had to tread very carefully. He did not want to get Kiernan any more riled up on the subject than she already was.

She eyed him doubtfully.

“Come now,” he scoffed, hoping it sounded genuine. “The entire tour will be nothing but a waste of time and you know it. If enemy forces do exist, they have never shown an eagerness to visit Pyraan.” Surrounded by the Arounda Ocean and cosseted by steep cliff walls that encircled the entire island, landing on Massa by ship was impossible at any location except at a quarter of a league stretch of open beach at the northern Crown Bluffs.

“Well, if not Pyraan, at least you will be getting away from Parsis,” she replied and began to pace back and forth.

Here we go
, he thought, and walked over to a row of shelves outside of the tack room to search for spare trousers. Holding up a pair and deciding they would fit, he went into an empty stall to change.

“I am a prisoner here, Beck! We both are, but for some reason you do not seem to care.”

He laughed dryly. “That is the funny thing about exile, Kiernan, you really don’t have much of a choice.”

She continued her rant as if she did not hear his response, which was probably the case. “It is worse for me on two fronts. As a shifter, I cannot leave the boundaries of Pyraan, and as a female, I am barred from joining the Northwatch Legion. It is so unfair! I should be going with you. I am better with the sword than just about any male in this entire land,” she said without even a hint of boast in her tone. She was simply stating fact.

Beck peered at her over the stable door, reluctant to say anything when she was so clearly agitated. He was in agreement with her. In his opinion, it was unfair that she not be allowed to join the Legion. Small, but with an athletic build, she had proven repeatedly at the Academy that she would be a very formidable legionnaire. She was also a very skilled mindshifter. She could bend people to her will simply by gazing into their eyes and transferring her own thoughts and ideas to theirs. Hers was a very potent and dangerous power, and she never used it recklessly. In fact, she rarely used it at all. Contrary to the name, there was very little magic performed in the Magical Kingdom of Pyraan.

For young people just coming into their shifting talents, the use of magic was permitted only during school sessions at The Parsis Academy with an experienced instructor. As for the adults, well, these were peaceful times in Massa and over the years the four metamagics of earth, fire, mind, and body began to offer less and less value to their everyday lives. In fact, it began to be viewed as something unwholesome. A taint, even. A genetic imperfection passed on from generation to generation. And, while it was important to learn to study and control the contaminate, to even use it for defensive purposes to enable them to uphold their oath to the people of Massa, it was not an integral part of their lives.

“We will be back before you know it, Kiernan. You won’t even have a chance to miss us. I promise.”

“You don’t understand,” she murmured.

But, he did. Along with their two friends, Rogan Radek, a Dwarf and fireshifter, and Airron Falewir, an Elf and bodyshifter, they had been inseparable for the past six years. While most shifters started developing their first stirrings of power in their mid-teenage years with a mature command of the magic by their early twenties, Beck, Kiernan, Rogan and Airron began exhibiting magical tendencies as very young children and now as teens, they were the most powerful shifters in Pyraan.

Beck came out of the stall and put an arm around her shoulders. “Of course I do. I wish nothing more than that you could join us, but you know the rules about girls joining the Legion. I guess they think it would be too…” he hesitated, blushing, “…distracting or something. How would I know?”

“That’s ridiculous,” she snorted. “Even so, there are so few female shifters coming to Pyraan every year. What would be the harm in letting those of us who are here and more than capable come along?” As she resumed her pacing, she began mumbling something about showing “them”, whoever “they” were, that it was not over yet.

Just as she was about to launch into a new argument against the conservative rules of the Northwatch Legion, the stable doors banged open with a loud thud and afternoon sunlight flooded inside. They both turned to see Rogan Radek silhouetted in the doorway squinting to focus in the gloom of the stable. “Ah,” he said seeing his two friends. Five-foot-one and tough as nails, Rogan barreled inside with all of the refinement of a charging bull and patted Kiernan on the back. “Well done,” he said gruffly. “About time someone knocked Beck down a peg. He is too serious all of the time.”

Beck pulled his white shirt down over his borrowed trousers. “Not true. What about the time I buried you to your shoulders in a sinking and left you there all night? That was comical.”

Rogan smirked at the reminder. “I stand corrected. That was pretty funny…Hey!” he suddenly shouted in panic, kicking out his left leg. “What in the bloody…?” Beck looked quizzically at Kiernan and then back at the Dwarf as he suddenly began hopping from one foot to the other. “Get it out, get it out!” he screamed, the two thick braids at his temples flailing wildly.

“What! What is it?” Kiernan asked, rushing to Rogan’s side.

“Help!”

“Calm down, Rogan,” Beck said firmly, holding his hands out.

All of a sudden, a gray mouse appeared at the bottom of Rogan’s trousers. The creature swiveled its head left and right and then leapt free of the jerking pant leg and scampered a safe distance away before turning around and rising on its hind legs to smile broadly and
unnaturally
at the terrified Dwarf. Beck noticed Kiernan try to hide a smile behind her hand. After all, it was not very often that real mice actually looked up at humans with quirky little smiles of satisfaction on their faces.

“All right, Airron. You had your fun,” Beck said to the mouse.

Upon hearing the mention of his mischievous friend, Rogan narrowed his eyes at the rodent and crossed his arms over his chest, waiting. He did not have to wait long as the air shimmered and then swiftly and fluidly the mouse transformed into a willowy, but strapping young Elf with purple eyes and long, silver hair. Airron Falewir’s perfect features were screwed up in mirth as he pointed, howling at Rogan.

“You are not supposed to be using magic,” said Beck in a rote tone of voice. He used these same words often with his friends, and he knew that it was highly unlikely that Airron, who was doubled up in the corner, was going to heed them any more this time than he had any other. “Now, get dressed!”

“
Asha
, friends,” said Airron between bouts of laughter, using the Elven word for greeting.

Rogan growled as his murderous eyes fixed on Airron. Kiernan turned her back on the naked bodyshifter. “Come on, Rogan. It was just a furry, little mouse. At least it wasn’t a snake,” she said, and shuddered visibly. “I hate snakes.”

Still grinning, Airron quickly pulled on a brown tunic and leggings stashed in one of the horse stalls and walked over to put his arm around Rogan. “Kiernan is right. Lighten up, fireball, because you know as well as I that it will not be long before the back of my cloak mysteriously goes up in flames again.”

Rogan grunted in acknowledgement.

“You have to stop grinning when you bodyshift, Airron,” Beck pointed out. “It gives you away every time.”