To Kill a Wizard: Rose's Story (The Protectors of Tarak Book 1) (16 page)

My pace quickened. Priests wore gray robes. Oracles wore white. “Is that man an Oracle?” I asked, the words slipping out before I could stop them.

Ugar paused and turned around. “Yes.”

I stared at him, too shocked to respond. An Oracle should be surrounded by servants and treated with extreme respect and care. Usually they only resided in large towns, where they could pass on messages from the goddesses to the people who benefitted from them the most.

“Keep moving,” Ugar ordered.

But before I could take a step, the Oracle stood. He was a young man with hair the color of coal and deathly pale skin. To my surprise, he approached us with a smile.

“Welcome, strangers!” he greeted.

Just a few steps from us, he stopped. A spasm racked his body, and his head rolled back.

He nearly fell, but Ugar caught him.

I took a few steps closer, staring down at the man.

The Oracle’s pupils had vanished, replaced by an eerie white. “I, Libra, the great Goddess of Freedom will not take a side in this war between sisters. Although my heart goes out to the people of Tarak.”

He convulsed again as his eyelids closed.

My pulse raced. Had I really just witnessed what I thought I had?

The urge to fall on my knees and pray raced through me as my legs trembled. But no one else seemed the least bit affected by the miracle they’d just witnessed.

“Did a goddess really just speak through him?” I asked, glancing at Meisha.

She shrugged. “His task is to find goddesses to aid our war. A task he has mostly been unsuccessful at.”

Her words failed to diminish my wonder. Successful or not, this man had just had a goddess speak through him.

Ugar gestured to one of his men. “Take care of him.”

The frightening man didn’t look at the Oracle as he handed him off, but straightened and turned a glare on us. “A storm comes. We must hurry.”

I followed after him, while staring back at the Oracle being tossed over a man’s back like a sack. My heart ached. In what place was such an important person treated so badly?

Ugar led us to the first building showing real signs of life. Smoke drifted from the chimney, and although small, it was well cared for. Built from the same white wood as the strange trees, and with a few stairs leading up to a small porch, it had an unexpected air of hominess.

“Norma waits,” Ugar said.

Meisha nodded and reached for the handle, but it opened.

A monster of a woman stood in the doorway, as thick and sturdy as a mountain, with dark brown hair tied back from her flat face. Warts, big and pink, dotted her flesh, including one misshapen one on her right eyelid. A hump curved her back, and black hair exploded from her muscular arms. “What’s this?” She gripped the hilt of her sword. “
Ladies
from the castle?”

Meisha’s face was unreadable, as if she neither noticed nor cared about the sarcasm lacing the older woman’s voice, which only further added to the red fury blossoming over Norma’s face.

“What brings us the
pleasure
of your presence here?”

“Blair.” Meisha’s abrupt answer had the woman’s uni-brow twitching.

Red spread over Norma’s neck. “How kind of her to send us her dog.”

In the blink of an eye, the monstrous woman was sprawled on the ground, and Meisha was standing over her. Meisha’s hand gripped the older woman’s hair, pulling it back to reveal the pale flesh at her throat.

“I am no one’s
dog
,” Meisha growled.

Ugar’s hand drifted over the blade at his side.

A sickening feeling washed over me, making my head light.

“We’re here because of me,” I cried, surprising even myself with the volume of my words.

All eyes focused on me.

The tension mounted.

“I’m new to The Protectors, so Blair wanted me to come here.”

“Why?” Norma hissed, undaunted by Meisha’s threat.

The words tumbled from my lips. “I don’t know exactly, but I think she wants me to learn about what The Protectors do, so perhaps I won’t try to run away again.”

My revelation left a moment of quiet, and then, she laughed. Not the rough sound of Meisha’s, nor the falsely musical one of Clarissa’s, but a booming explosion of noise, rising from her stomach and exploding from her lips.

Meisha stepped back.

Norma lumbered to her feet, all tension evaporated.

“I’m Norma,” the woman said, talking through her laughter, “and I must speak with the girl daring enough to run away from The Ice Queen herself.”

Ugar’s hand fell away from his blade.

“Come, come.” She waved. “My home is your home.”

We followed her inside.

Ugar closed the door behind us.

Norma pushed back a thick curtain leading into a small space, where more curtains had been used in place of walls. A large square table surrounded by chairs occupied most of our area. Through the thin fabric separating our space from the rest of the open room, light filtered in from the fire. A hazy view of pillows and blankets littered the floor on the other side.

“Sit.” She gestured to the chairs. “Tell me, little one, how you came to escape The Ice Queen.”

I sank gratefully onto the hard wooden chair, but struggled for something to say, not yet ready to share my story. “Wh—Why do you call her The Ice Queen?”

The woman laughed again, throwing back her head. “Because she lives in a glass castle in the snow. Besides, she hates the nickname.”

I tried not to let my surprise show.

“How do you know Blair?” I asked, staring down at the table. A map of all of Tarak, colorful and detailed, had been unrolled, alongside a mug as thick as my neck.

Norma drew my attention as she crossed one of her muscular arms behind her head. With the other, she reached for the mug, taking a deep swig of the golden liquid, before setting it back down. A sour smell reached me, and I eyed her drink with suspicion.

“Blair and I have a long history,” she explained, leaning back in her chair. “She appointed me here not long after I joined The Order. Not that I blame her. My talents make a place like this the obvious choice.”

My mind raced. Norma was a Protector of Tarak?

Sneaking a look at Meisha, I frowned. Her stony expression and eyes blazing with restrained anger felt oddly out of place. With her back stiff, and her bare feet pressed against the wooden floor, she could’ve been a beautiful statue. I’d always thought that only the loveliest women were chosen to become Protectors, yet Norma was beautiful by no standards that I knew.

Rather than offend her, I asked simply, “What talents?”

Norma leaned further back, shoving her booted feet against the side of the table until two of the chair’s legs rose in the air. The table screeched in protest and shifted an inch, but otherwise held the woman’s weight.

“What’s your name, girl?”

“Rose,” I said.

“Is that short for Rosalyn?” she asked, smirking.

Every muscle in my body tensed. Asking others about their True Name wasn’t just rude… it was insulting. To know someone’s True Name was dangerous. If they learned how to say the name just right, the way you yourself said it, they could gain influence over you. But giving a magical person your True Name, they could enslave you to them. Wizards could do it with blood or with your name. Protectors could only use your name.

“What’s Norma short for?” My question was clipped with anger.

She laughed. “This one’s got a little spark, don’t she?” Her grin widened. “How much do you know about what we do, Rose?” She emphasized my name.

I ground my teeth together. “I know you take innocent girls from their homes and—”

“Yes, yes,” Norma growled, “but what do you know about what we
do
?”

“Do?” What did they do? “Nothing.”

Norma flexed her legs once more. “When did you pass the test?”

“Last night.”

Her legs crumpled, and her chair hit the floor. “Last night?” Norma turned her sharp gaze on Meisha. “Goddesses’ tooth! What was Blair thinking sending such fresh meat?”

Meisha seemed to regard the other woman for a long minute before answering. “I know nothing of how her mind works.”

“You have no idea why she sent her?” Norma asked, sarcasm lacing her words.

Meisha answered slowly. “There is a storm coming. She wishes the girl to see why we sacrifice what we do, and why we are necessary to Tarak.”

Norma used the back of her hairy arm to wipe at her mouth. “The girl must’ve really smarted Blair’s pride to torture the girl like this.”

Fear clawed my gut. What did they have planned for me?

“There’s more.” Meisha curled her hands into fists, until her knuckles turned white. “We learned the girl is something special. She has the power of the goddesses’ names.”

A sharp whistle escaped through the space between Norma’s front teeth. “If that’s true, it changes everything.”

“If we can train her in time.” Disapproval dripped from Meisha’s words.

Sweat gathered at my hairline as I glanced from one woman to the other. I didn’t like the way they spoke of my powers… like they were something unusual. Didn’t both of these women have powers of their own?

“Do not look so surprised,” Meisha’s voice softened. “When you fell from the bridge, we felt the power of your spell. When Blair used her powers, to find you, still alive, it confirmed our suspicions.”

“B—But can’t all of you perform spells?”

Norma picked up her mug and took a large gulp before slamming it back on the table. “No, girl. We’ve got our own gifts. But if The Ice Queen sent you, you must be something special.” Her gaze evaluated me from head to toe. “You’re as innocent as a lamb to the slaughter, aren’t you? I better explain things from the beginning, since the
ladies
failed to do so. What do you know of wizards?”

Her final word made me tense. No one spoke of wizards. Why would they? No good could come from speaking of creatures so evil that only death had freed us from them.

But my thoughts betrayed me. A picture of Asher rose in my mind like the blazing of a fire. Broad shouldered, tall and muscular, with the build of man who knew how to swing a sword, he was every girl’s greatest fantasy. But it was his face that made me catch my breath, letting it out in a slow puff of air as I imagined each curve of his remarkable face. There had never been a more beautiful man, with his strong jaw, generous lips, and deep blue eyes as compelling as an unfinished story.

I’d even dreamed of him the night before… in it, I’d relived our kiss. Only this time I could see magic swirling about us, tying us together for all of eternity. A half-smile had touched his lips, and I’d been lost in the sight of him.

Logically, I should’ve woken up terrified. Instead, I’d woken up with a smile on my face. How had he gotten so deeply under my skin without me noticing?

“Rose?” Norma repeated.

I turned to her, struggling to remember her question.

“She knows wizards no longer exist.” Meisha directed her comment to Norma, but her gaze remained on me, communicating without words. No one was to know of Asher.

Warmth flooded my cheeks. Could she read my thoughts?

“Everyone knows that,” Norma said, as if completely unaware of my embarrassment, “but do you know how we got rid of them?”

I shifted in my chair, rubbing near the burn on my wrist. “The queen did it somehow. Probably with the help of a goddess.”

Norma’s gaze drifted to Meisha. “The Protectors of Tarak murdered them all.”

I gasped. Protectors didn’t use their powers for killing, to do so would make us no better than the wizards themselves!

But my shock passed. Hadn’t I already realized that these women were capable of far more horrible things than I ever imagined?

When I realized I’d been silent for too long, I asked, “How?” Even though I wanted to ask
why
.

Norma eased her chair legs to the floor and gripped her mug, staring down into it as if she would find the answer somewhere in the sour liquid.

“That is a story for another time,” Meisha said. “There are more pressing matters to discuss.”

Norma frowned. “Yes, the time for stories is almost over.” She raised her glass and drank until empting the last drop. Then, she wiped her mouth on the back of her hand. “That story is a horrific one girl, but real life is much,
much
worse. You see, killing the goddesses’ prized humans probably wasn’t the best idea.” She laughed humorlessly, and I leaned forward, not wishing to miss a single word. “When the wizards went to the Underworld, their leader, Marcalus, appealed to Hadia.”

The image of Hadia, the goddess of the Underworld came to mind. When my father and I had visited the temples of different goddesses, we’d seen one devoted to Hadia. It always stood out in my mind. It had been carved from black marble, and poisonous lizards crawled on the floors. They even twirled along the pillars lining the dark temple.