To Kill a Wizard: Rose's Story (The Protectors of Tarak Book 1) (33 page)

BOOK: To Kill a Wizard: Rose's Story (The Protectors of Tarak Book 1)
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The Oracle touched his arm, his mouth moving as Jundro watched him carefully. “If there is any hesitation in your voice, it’s not her true name. Zeuita doesn’t hesitate. And Hadia’s name must be whispered, filled with rage and sadness. Her name should echo the outrage one feels when they lose someone they love. But, it should be spoken so softly that her name should be a whisper on the wind.”

Before I spoke my first goddess’s name, I wouldn’t have understood the instructions the Oracle had given, but now memories stirred inside of me. I knew how to call on the goddesses, even if it might still take me awhile to get the sounds of their names just right.

“But how will they hear me? How is this different from simply using their powers?”

Jundro watched the Oracle for a long time before he finally spoke. “Because this time you won’t just be pulling tiny wisps of magic from them, you’ll be forcing some of your magic
into
them. It will flow over them like a warm rush of wind, and although they won’t
have
to answer your call, they’ll feel
compelled
to.”

“So am I calling
both
of them?”

Jundro laughed, sweeping his unruly hair behind his ears. “No. To open the lines of communication to the goddesses, you must always use Zeuita and Hadia’s names first. Even if you then call on another goddess.

“Why?”

“When their names are spoken, you will touch both life and death for one beautiful moment. You’ll channel that energy, and combine it with the magic inside of you, and then you’ll speak the name of the goddess you wish to hear your voice.”

“So, if I was calling upon a wood nymph…”

“You would speak the true names of Hadia and Zeuita, and then you would say the wood nymph’s name. Hadia and Zeuita would feel your use of their power like always, like the lightest touch upon their skin, but the wood nymph would hear your shout ring through her body and soul.”

I’d only seen a wood nymph once, a beautiful creature with eyes and ears like a deer. She’d paused at the edge of a stream. But when she saw me, she’d transformed into a tree.

“Are you ready to try it?”

I
almost
said yes, but then a terrible thought shattered my confidence. “If this works, what should I ask of Zeuita? Just to end the war?”

The Oracles lips moved, but Jundro didn’t speak. A series of emotions flashed across his face, and then, he grew very still. “You will say whatever you must, because if you fail, Tarak will likely fall tomorrow night.”

Taking a step away from the basin, I looked between Jundro and the Oracle. “How do you know that?”

Jundro watched the Oracle again, but avoided my gaze when he answered. “The Undead wizards have discovered a way to break through the shield.”

“I know. I was there when they shattered the shield, but the last thing Clarissa told me was that they were close.”

He didn’t look surprised at my admission. “Well, tomorrow their powers will be fully recharged. The Protectors have inform us, as well as, the queen, that should you fail in your plead to Zeuita, we should abandon Tarak.”

I squeezed my arms, willing the suffocating tightening around my throat to fade. I’d seen the Undead wizards. If they were released on the innocent farmers that made up most of Tarak, it would be a massacre. Asher’s face came to my mind, along with my father’s, and the faces of all the families still remaining in Duggery.

“We can’t let that happen.”


You
can’t let that happen.”

Shivers wracked my body. So much pressure. So many innocent lives resting in my hands.

The stone at my throat warmed, surprising me. I wrapped my hand around it, knowing it likely warned me, but also taking comfort in its familiarity.

“I’m ready now.” My voice trembled ever so slightly.

Jundro smiled and stepped around to the back of it, making certain to stay out of the way of the Oracle who peered eagerly at me.

“You can communicate with the goddesses anywhere, but it helps to be touching water. It helps even more to be surrounded by water.” He pointed. “And the white marble is said to be their favorite stone, so everything is made of it, including the basin. When you call on the goddesses, allow your hands to sink below the surface of the water and touch the cool marble. It will help channel your magic.”

“And how do I channel my magic through the goddesses?”

It was a question I should’ve asked already.

“Just as you send your magic into others at the Choosing, to search for their magic, send your magic into their names as you speak them.”

My head ached. There was so much to remember, and there were so many things that could go wrong.

I took a deep breath and reached my hands out. The tips of my fingers caressed the water, and then, I plunged them in. The cold water went to my wrists before I felt the bottom.

“Whose name should I speak first?”

“It is usually easier with Zeuita. There is life all around you that will add strength to her name.”

The cool water seeped into my blood, and I trembled.

“Zeuita,” I said, trying the sound of her name on my tongue. “Zeuita.” I tried again, this time louder, more confident. Her name buzzed across my tongue, but tasted wrong. “Zeuita!” I screamed, but my voice seemed forced and afraid. I couldn’t be afraid. I must be powerful and strong. “
Zeuita
!” I screamed again, and this time, I knew it was right. Warmth exploded from my body, and the water warmed around my hands.

I took several deep breaths, trying to still my rapidly beating heart. “Hadia.” I whispered her name with revere. She was a goddess, but I couldn’t forget
what
she was. She would take my father’s life one day, and Asher’s, and my own. And she would enjoy it. “Hadia,” I whispered again, only her name still didn’t sound quite right. I thought of losing Asher, really thought about it, and it became hard to swallow. “Hadia,” I said again, goose bumps spread across my skin, but something still wasn’t right.

“It isn’t working.”

The Oracle turned his gaze onto Jundro, and the young man paled. “We were afraid of this. Hadia’s name took a long while for the Oracle to get just right. And in the beginning, he had to make certain… sacrifices.”

“Sacrifies,” I repeated dumbly. “I thought the people of Tarak no longer sacrificed animals to the goddesses.”

“We do not.” Jundro walked to the edge of the marble island. “Do you see that,” he asked, pointing.

I joined him by the water’s edge and squinted into the clear waters. “What is it?”

“They are handcuffs, crafted by Hephesta, Goddess of the Blacksmiths. They were created without a key. Made only to be opened in the presence of a goddess.”

“For what purpose?”

“Hadia will come for death.”

Goddess’ blood
. He couldn’t possibly intend…

Jundro leapt into the water, moving so fast that it took my mind several precious moments to catch up.

“He can’t do this!” I screamed, turning to the Oracle, to his brother, but he appeared unmoved.

I dove into the freezing waters, shooting straight for him. It took only a moment to reach him, but the handcuffs were already firmly in place. I pulled at the long chains tying him to the marble floor of the pool, but they didn’t budge.

My lungs burned. I gazed into his face, memorizing it. His eyes were wide and fearful. I stared at them until the need for air seared my lungs. Then, angrily, I kicked off the bottom of the pool and shot to the surface.

Climbing onto the island, I stumbled to the basin. “
Zeuita
!” I screamed, and warmth exploded across my skin. Taking a deep breath, I whispered, “Hadia,” but still nothing happened. “Hadia, Hadia, Hadia, Hadia,” I tried her name in every tone with every inflection I could muster, but still, nothing happened.

Jundro began to jerk strangely beneath the water, and my breath came in sharp bursts. “Hadia, Hadia, Hadia,” I whispered. But still, nothing happened.

Beneath the water, Jundro stilled, and my stomach clenched. “Goddesses’ blood,
Hadia
, answer my call.”

The water in the basin bubbled, and I drew my hand back in shock and pain. My skin felt flushed and sweaty, but I concentrated on the inferno of golden flame inside of myself, and channeled my powers outward. “Zeuita, hear my call!” I shouted.

Lightning crackled in the sky.

Then, she was there.

She was taller than any human, with long brown hair that flowed over her shoulders, and stopped just at her waist. Her large brown eyes were trained on me, but there was a glowing radiance beneath her skin that took my breath away. I had never seen anything as beautiful as this woman. Or as frightening.

“Who
dares
to call upon Zeuita, goddess of all goddesses?” she demanded.

“I am Rose Vidoryn.” I turned my gaze back to Jundro. His body had risen to the surface of the water, no longer trapped down by the cuffs. “He sacrificed himself so I could call on you.”

She studied me, her eyes swirling with light. “Then, make his sacrifice worth it.”

I wanted to obey her, but something inside of me refused. “He might still be alive.”

She flicked her wrists, and his body slowly began to drift through the water towards us. “No, the boy is dead.”

My mind barely processed anything. I ran, then dove into the water.

Turning my back on the goddess was enough to make me lose my dinner, but imagining Jundro dying when I could’ve saved him would haunt me all my days. I reached his still form, then dragged him out of the water and onto the marble.

“He is gone,” Zeuita said.

“No,” I answered, shaking my head. I felt his chest, but no heart beat within it. “No, I won’t let him die.”

I turned him on his side and shook him, beating his back, anything rather than sit helplessly.

“Would you really waste your time with me to save the boy?”

Zeuita stood over me.

I trembled. “You are the Goddess of Life. Would you do any less?”

My question challenged the most powerful goddess of all.

Something only a fool would do.

But instead of punishing me for my insolence, she knelt down beside Jundro and placed her hand on his chest. A moment later, he sat up, spitting out water and vomiting into the pool beside him.

I could’ve cried with relief.

Zeuita smiled at me. “You truly are worth the gifts I bestowed upon you, as was your mother.”

I longed to ask her about my mother, but I’d already wasted precious time. “And you’ve given me so much, and yet, I’m here to ask you for more.” I took a deep breath. “Tomorrow the wizards will kill us all, unless you reverse your sister’s decision.”

Her smile vanished. “I cannot take away a promise given by my sister. The Protectors are responsible for killing all the wizards, and so, they’ve been promised revenge.”

Zeuita’s tone left no room for argument, but a thought came to my mind. “But, my goddess, not all the wizards are dead. One remains alive.”

Her dark brows rose. “A wizard remains alive?”

“Yes, Asher,” I blurted. “He lives safely in Wintercarve, just below the castle of The Protectors.”

Amazement filled her expression, giving a soft glow to her skin. “Then, perhaps, there is something I can do. My sister struck a bargain for revenge for killing all wizards, and yet, a wizard remains alive.”

My words rushed out. “Thank you, my goddess.”

She frowned. “I think you mistake me. The wizards still deserve blood for the lives that have been taken. But when they are killed this time, they will remain dead forever.”

Disappointment left an ashy taste on my tongue. “I’m not sure that’s enough.”

Zeuita reached out and ran a hand gently over my wet hair. Her touch was warm and comforting.

“If you’re as extraordinary as your mother, you will think of a way to win this final battle.”

She pressed a kiss to my forehead and gazed into my eyes. “Remember that even though The Protectors betrayed me as a child would betray their mother, you are still my blessed children.”

And then, she was gone.

I collapsed onto the floor next to Jundro. Had all my efforts been in vain?

Chapter Twenty-Four

 

“So, I guess we’ll all die,” Clarissa says, dryly.

“But at least this will give us a chance.” Sura clutched the shawl around her shoulders and looked at me, concern in her eyes. “Rose, you should sleep soon. Using magic has a way of draining us.”

My body ached, and my eyes took longer and longer to open when I blinked. It’d been a long night, making the walk from The Oracle through the town seemed to take an eternity. We stood on the steps of the portal, preparing to head back to The Glass Castle, to tell Blair the result of my plea to Zeuita.

“Yeah, a chance to die, that’s all she’s given—” Clarissa stopped in mid-sentence, her eyes locked on the shadows of an alley near us.

I squinted into the darkness, and a man separated himself from shadows. He was lean and handsome, but something about him set me on edge.

“Go to the castle yourself; I’ve got something to take care of first.”

Clarissa moved with sure strides, but her face held an expression I’d never seen before: true concern. As she approached the man, her expression changed to one of anger, and she gripped his arm. He allowed her to lead him into the darkness of the shadows, and I longed to follow them, to unravel perhaps a piece of the mystery that was Clarissa.

“How was the Oracle?” Sura asked, staring down at her feet. “I mean, did he look well?”

“He looked… old,” I answered.

To my surprise, she winched. “Did Zeuita speak to him?”

“No. Why?”

And then, I realized what I fool I’d been. I should’ve asked Zeuita to forgive the Oracle, if not to renew his voice, then to renew his body.

“Everything happened so fast,” I explained lamely. “I never thought to…”

To what? To introduce them again? To ask her to forgive him? He’d cried at the sight of someone who could speak to the goddesses, and yet, I’d forgotten him when the moment came. I hadn’t even looked at him, hadn’t even thought of how he must have felt in that moment. And in this, I made a mistake.

“Oh,” Sura said, rubbing the lace of her shawl with her fingertips. “We’d hoped… I’d hoped, that she would forgive him. Perhaps give him his voice and youth back.”

“Do you know him well then?”

Her movements stilled, and she gazed up at me, biting her lip lightly. “I know him.”

Something about her reaction made me wonder as to the nature of their relationship, but my thoughts were sluggish. “I’m sorry I didn’t help him.”

Her gaze held mine. “There will be other opportunities.”

I leaned away from her. Her voice was like steel, either a threat or promise, I wasn’t sure which.

“I should go,” I said.

Sura was quiet for a moment. “Of course.” Something in the tilt of her head, in the way she held my gaze made me think she had more to say, but then she looked away. “Do you know how to open the portal?”

I shook my head.

“You and Blair are able to travel from one place to another without the portal, but it takes a great deal of your powers. The rest of us require the portals to travel. All we must do is channel our powers into the center of it, and think of the place we wish to go. It helps to use our tools, if we have any. You should say the Goddess of Travel’s name, just as Clarissa uses her blades.”

“Is Blair expecting me?”

“No, we thought it best for her to hear the story directly from you.”

More like they feared Blair would be angry and take it out on them, but I didn’t mind. Their cowardice might’ve given me the opportunity I needed.

“I should go check on Brien,” her eyes widened. “I mean, the Oracle. May the goddesses watch over you.”

Sura didn’t look back as she hurried into the shadows, and I wondered once again about her relationship with the Oracle. He had once been a young man after all. Were they friends? Or did he perhaps hold her heart?

I rubbed my face. I had more important things to worry about.

Turning to the portal, I channeled my magic into the center of it and thought of Wintercarve. “
Hermya
.” The center flared to life, revealing a dark, snowy world. I prayed to the goddesses, I’d found the right place. The place Asher was supposed to be waiting for me.

Stepping through, the portal closed behind me. Instantly, I regretted not bringing my cloak with me. My thin dress offered little protection from the chill of this snowy night.

“Rose?”

I spun towards the sound of Asher’s voice. He was standing partially hidden behind a large rock, but rushed towards me. Seconds later, I was in his warm arms.

“I regretted leaving you behind. I worried I’d never see you again.”

I smiled against his chest. This was my Asher. The boy who made my heart flutter, even as my eyes closed in exhaustion and relief.

“You shouldn’t have worried,” I murmured. “I said I’d come back.”

He pulled away from me, and I opened my eyes. My breath caught in my chest. A dazzling half-smile touched his lips.

Without thinking, I reached up and ran my fingers across the stubble on his face. He looked surprised, but then his hand caught mine, pressing my palm more firmly against his cheek.

He frowned. “You look tired.”

I
felt
tired, but his presence made me feel more alive than I had all night. “You need to work on your flattery.”

He laughed.

We enjoyed a long moment of comfortable silence, drinking in the sight and feel of each other. If I had any doubts about our entwined destiny, they had fled at the sight of him, at the feel of him. He was strong and solid beneath my fingertips, but there was such a pleasant softness to his eyes.

“Oh!” he exclaimed. “I have something to show you.” He started to pull my hand, but then, stopped, frowning once more. “You’re cold.”

He untied his white cloak from his shoulders and placed it gently around my own. Underneath his cloak, he wore a thick, dark blue shirt and black pants. They fit him well, and I blushed, noting the way they clung to his muscular body.

“I love you like that,” he whispered, and I glanced up, meeting his fiery eyes. “Sometimes all I can imagine is the girl who fell from the bridge, who rescued me from The Protectors. But other times, you do something like blush, and I remember that you’re still just a girl, underneath it all.”

Pressing my cold hands against my cheeks, I tried to hide them from his scrutinizing gaze. “Didn’t you have something to show me?”

“Of course!” He knelt on the ground, shifting the sword on his belt, his face glowing with excitement. “I’ve been working on my powers since I got back, testing what I can do.”

He reached out and pressed his hand against the trunk of the tree. His expression grew serious, his eyes locked on his hand. My gaze moved from his face to his hand, waiting, wondering what new magic he’d learned.

When nothing happened, I was surprised to feel a rush of relief, and then, ashamed. Asher wasn’t afraid of my powers, I shouldn’t be afraid of his. I couldn’t keep looking at the person I loved, waiting for the evil wizard within to surface.

“It’s—” I began.

I wasn’t sure what I planned to say, but a rush of cold slammed into me, bringing with it the memory of the Undead wizard, Marcalus, nearly taking my life. Shivers racked my body, but my physical response was nothing in comparison to the horror I felt as the tree slowly turned brown and died beneath Asher’s fingertips.

Sweat gathered on his brow as he slid his hand down the trunk of the tree to where the snow covered its roots. The snow fled from his touch, or at least it seemed that way, as it melted, faster and faster. A pool of liquid was all that remained, spreading until even the snow beneath my feet turned to water. And then, green grass sprouted growing rapidly until it reached my knees.

Asher drew his hand away, triumph in his voice. “Can you believe this?”

I knelt down, running my hands through the strands of grass. I wanted to share in his enthusiasm, but I couldn’t force a smile past the feeling of dread in my stomach. “You killed the tree.”

“Yeah, but look at the grass!”

Sinking down into the grass, I gathered my knees to my chest and pressed my face against my legs. The problem with wizards was that they killed. They didn’t hesitate to take the life force from someone or something if it could make them stronger. Asher had only used his magic for a short time, and already, he was killing. Had I made a mistake in freeing him? Were
all
wizards truly incapable of resisting the evils of magic?

But even as these fear-induced thoughts raced through me, logic reared its ugly head. The Protectors killed young girls to fuel their magic… I had killed to fuel my magic. Was I any better?

“Talk to me,” Asher whispered, resting his hand on my back. “What have I done?”

I couldn’t look at him, couldn’t let him see the doubt and panic that filled me. He would know instantly that I feared him. And how could I love someone I feared? I wished I was with Sirena. She would reassure me, she would tell me that killing one tree didn’t mean he’d become a monster.

“I’m sorry,” I mumbled into my legs.

“Don’t be sorry, just tell me. I need to know. If something I’ve done upsets you this much, I need to understand it.”

I pulled a little away from my knees, but didn’t look at him. I didn’t want to see the impact of my words. “Magic shouldn’t be used for killing.”

“I’m not like
those
wizards. This was just a tree.”

Tension sizzled through the air, and I took a deep breath. I loved Asher, felt a connection between us that went beyond all logic, but didn’t
know
him. What I was about to say would reveal a lot about who he was, and I feared if he said the wrong thing, I’d find myself connected to someone who I could never trust.

“Once you start taking lives, it’s a slippery slope,” I said, finally meeting his steely gaze. “One day it’s a tree, the next it’s a person.” He opened his mouth to interrupt me, but I forced the rest of my words past my lips in a rush. “If we have any chance at a future, any chance at trusting each other, or escaping from the corruption that seems to come with magic, neither of us can use our magic to kill. I want your word on it.”

Silently, I gave my word as well. Never again would I take a life to fuel my magic. Never again.

He lay back, disappearing in the long green grass. I longed to see his expression, to read the emotions and thoughts that were surely dancing across his strong face, but I forced myself to remain still. This was a good thing. A promise like the one I was asking for shouldn’t be given lightly.

A promise given lightly was often broken.

A few minutes passed before the sound of Asher shifting broke the silence of Wintercarve’s forest.

“I have my answer,” he said. He sat up, poking his head free from the grass. His face revealed nothing. “Come lay with me.”

I wanted to beg him just to tell me. But as I looked at his face, at the places I’d touched, I realized that his answer could change everything. If he refused to make this promise to me, would I remain with him? Could I live my life knowing that the person I loved might one day be dangerous to all of mankind?

He tugged on my arm, his cold fingers reminding me that I still wore his cloak. I untied it from my shoulders and scooted towards him. Then, spread his warm cloak over us, and snuggled into the crook of his arm.

“I want you to trust me,” he murmured, turning his head so that his mouth brushed the top of my head as we lay. “I didn’t really think about killing the tree, I was just excited about using my magic. But you’re right. Not that this could lead to me killing people, because it wouldn’t, but magic shouldn’t be used to harm.”

“You’re not afraid of hurting people with your magic?”

“No,” he said, pausing. “Are you?”

“Yes.” The word came out as a whisper, but his body tensed.
I’d already hurt people
, I longed to say
.
Instead, I admitted half the truth. “I’m afraid all the time of the magic inside of me. Of what I’m capable of.”

An image of the dead roses came to my mind, and a sob caught in my throat.

His muscles relaxed, and he used his cheek to nuzzle the top of my head. “Would it help if I told you why I’m not afraid?” I nodded, turning slightly and pressing my palm against his chest, feeling his heart as it raced. “I’m not afraid because just now, as I lay in the grass, I felt the earth’s heartbeat. It’s a sound I’ve heard before, but it always frightened me, because I didn’t understand it. But now, I do. I’m a wizard. I’m connected to the earth. When it hurts, I hurt. Killing this tree, killing the other trees I practiced with, these are hurts I’ve caused to the world and myself.”

“But the other wizards… they could hear the earth too, and they still killed.”

“They must have forgotten to stop and listen to the earth. I never will again.” He closed his hand on my own, tangling our fingers together against his chest. “And even if I don’t always remember to listen, you’ll be here to remind me.”

“But I can’t hear the earth, how will
I
avoid the temptations of power and magic?”

BOOK: To Kill a Wizard: Rose's Story (The Protectors of Tarak Book 1)
5.31Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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