Last of the Temple Line Page 2

  Dumbfounded, Emersyn stared after the female to ensure she had truly left. Once she was positive, she dropped the mana weaving that yet held Bannon. "I'm so sorry, Bannon! But you were-"

  Shrugging off her apology, Bannon's voice was low and deadly. "I don't care why you did it. You ever come between me and protecting my child again and I'll cut you down."

  Shocked and hurt, Emersyn dropped to her knees while a hand covered her mouth. Jaela faded back into view with Sarah and the baby in her arms behind Paelia's barrier. The elder witch lowered her arms and the mana she had commanded dissolved into nothingness. Bannon ran to Sarah and claimed his daughter to inspect the infant for damage. He pulled his wife and child into his arms and walked away from the destruction of their home until they disappeared around a cottage.

  Emersyn felt a calloused hand on her shoulder. She looked up to see Jaela and Alvin standing on either side of her. Jaela helped her to her feet. Absently pulling her shift back from where it had fallen over her shoulder, Emersyn's hands balled into fists. She noted that Paelia had turned to comforting the townsfolk that had finally emerged from their homes while leaving Emersyn to her sister to receive aid.

  "Jaela," Emersyn asked softly, "we did the right thing, didn't we?"

  Jaela scowled. Her skin flushed darker. "It is with friendship that I say Bannon deserves to be whipped with the thorns of the yucca rose for how he spoke to you. If he cannot see he was fighting a losing battle, then he is more stupid than I had thought possible for most males."

  Taking in a shuddering breath, Emersyn exclaimed, "What if he never lets us see Sarah again? He has gotten so possessive lately!"

  Alvin held his hands out, palms up, when Jaela pulled Wraith from its sheath with a silent snarl. "Calm minds will win this day, I am positive,” Alvin reassured both women in the hopes of placating them. Especially Jaela. While he had heard nothing but honorable things about her efforts to help Gilvern, she was Liindre. They were deadlier than most knew. “Bannon is a little emotional now and, with time and distance, his pride will heal. He will come around to see reasonably and be grateful for your assistance."

  Jaela rolled her shoulders and glared at the sage. "As my mother was fond of saying, ‘Reason and men are friends as often as cats and mice.’"

  "Well, you know, there is a little-known species-"

  "Keep your wit to yourself. It is not appreciated."Jaela glared at Alvin while fingering Wraith's sharp edge. The dagger gleamed ivory in the sunlight while the hilt was made from elaborately crafted black iron. "I should challenge Bannon for his disrespect," Jaela threatened. "Only through blood will he learn. Or I could kill him," she offered.

  Emersyn sighed. She sniffed back her own concerns in the face of her sister’s bloodlust. If Jaela interfered it would only make it worse. She put an arm around the other woman’s waist and squeezed. "We will leave him to Sarah. What else can we do? If we alienate him forever it will only hurt Sarah. I have faith in her. She will help him see. She has already been working to lessen his fears and jealousy.”

  Alvin sighed in relief when Jaela slid Wraith home with a snap of her wrist. He had been trained to face many dangers with unflinching resolve even if he was not an enforcer nor was he skilled with weapons. Even so, he did not want to face such a woman in battle. Her temper was as ferocious as her skill with the demon blade. "Your wisdom shines through," he complimented Emersyn.

  A blossoming pain tapped Emersyn on the temple. Sweet basil. She did not need this right now. Turning to Jaela, she asked, "Can I borrow Narina to visit Whispering Falls? I have a headache coming on."

  Jaela’s narrowed gaze pierced her. "I will accompany you once I have helped secure the area. Now is not the time to venture far."

  "You know it is rare for attacks to happen. Meghara is well and truly gone. You saw for yourself her departure. You will be needed to help clear the rubble and that will take most of the day. Please, Jaela."

  Alvin shook his head. "I do not think this is a good idea. You are not able to protect yourself, Emersyn. Ask Paelia to see to the pains if you have not the tincture to handle it yourself."

  Jaela scowled. "Bastard, this is not a conversation for you. Silence."

  Alvin's mouth dropped open. Emersyn knew he had not been exposed to Jaela's particular kind of charm very often, but she was grateful for her sister's interference.

  Any use of mana caused intense headaches that could becoming blinding in their intensity. Only when healing could she avoid the mana headaches by maintaining contact with the one needing her help.

  Jaela put her lips together and let out a sharp, piecing whistle that did nothing to help Emersyn's throbbing temples. A loud roar answered the call. The pebbled ground shook beneath their feet as a massive warhorse geared with black and silver-trimmed reins and saddle appeared in the tree line and thundered closer at an impossibly fast gallop. Emersyn coughed on dust when Narina managed an impressive halt a hairs-breath away from trampling Jaela. The Liindre woman slapped the horse's flank affectionately. Hard muscle moved beneath the mount's chestnut-hued hide as Narina shifted closer to nose Jaela in greeting.

  Alvin took a step back when the mare turned to him. He was tall for a human, standing a head over both Bannon and Jaela, but he only reached the nostrils of the mare. Crimson-stained eyes saw right into his soul. The horse lifted her lips. Scalpel-sharp fangs glinted in the bright, clean air. He jerked back further before the hell beast's teeth could tear a chunk from his arm. Mother help him. He had heard the most powerful Matrons of Liindre could infuse their chosen mounts with the same darkness they held within their daggers, but he had never seen one in person.

  "Take Emersyn to the Falls, Narina. Make sure she is safe then return to me," Jaela ordered the mare. Narina bowed her head in understanding then kneeled low, foreleg bent to allow Emersyn to use it as a step to mount her. Jaela squeezed Emersyn's knee once Narina stood back up. "We will collect you by midday, Emersyn. No arguments. Promise me you will not leave the Falls to come home on your own."

  Emersyn gifted Jaela a tired but sweet smile. "I promise.”

  Still troubled, Jaela nonetheless nodded and stepped back. "Safe journey." Jaela slapped Narina's flank and the horse took off.

  The Whispering Falls

  “One portion licorice root added to peppermint tea will cure most headaches.”

  -Emersyn’s Grimoire-

  Directing the mare with her knees, Emersyn saw the waterfall come into view a half an hour later. By foot it would have taken most of the day to reach it. On a normal horse, she would have lost three, perhaps four, hours. Narina nudged Emersyn with her nose once the witch dismounted in a show of affection.

  Protected by a natural barrier of thick vegetation and cliffs on three sides, the Whispering Falls were named for the gentle mists which carried the slightest of sounds to any side of the pool which gathered at the base of a tall waterfall. High, over-reaching branches tangled together far above her head. A smattering of filtered light drifted down to a small clearing. Moss-covered banks that were speckled with low-growing clusters of tiny flowers lovingly embraced the pool of crystal-clear water. It was a place of peace and quiet. Only the occasional bird call broke the sound of water on water.

  Smiling, Emersyn patted the mare's head. She dropped a light kiss on the velvety nose. "Thanks, Narina. You can go home to Jaela now."

  Glancing about the area briefly, as if to make sure it was safe, Narina stomped the ground then trotted back into the woods. Emersyn moved to the only cleared ingress to the waters where the deepest waters pooled. She kneeled on the soft, sandy earth before the clear water. Her blurred reflection stared back at her.

  Hair that needed a brush. Or a pair of scissors. Lines of exhaustion cut furrows in her brow. She held a hand up to her face and touched the small dark spot on the hollow of her cheek. The witch mark. Her mother's had been in the exact same spot. Paelia's was on her chest.

  Sages were gifted purple eyes as a sign of their blessing
to use mana while witches had their marks passed from mother to daughter. It was always present. A constant reminder of her failings.

  Emersyn closed her eyes and breathed deeply of the warm, moist air. She let the soothing sounds of the waterfall invade every pore until her limbs became loose and relaxed. The pounding at her temples softened. It had not spread to the space between her eyes. She gave thanks for that small blessing. Her thoughts could not settle so easily.

  Was this the price to pay for being unable to forget the visions that made a lie of what she had always been taught? What the sage cities and each individual coven swore as truth? Is that why her life seemed to be falling apart at the seams ever since her arrival in Gilvern?

  The soft whispers of a breeze caressed her skin and carried the last of her chill away. Emersyn slipped her bloodied feet into the pool and watched the crimson drift from them to stain the waters before fading away. Small fish pecked at her bare toes and she wiggled them while edging her shift up further to keep it from becoming wet.

  Emersyn laughed at herself. She had left Gilvern in bare feet and a night shift. At least the people were accustomed to her odd ways and would not think anything of her apparel or lack thereof when she returned. Witches were known to dance in the nude beneath the moon even though she had not participated in such a ceremony. Also, Emersyn was in a habit of walking barefoot. It made her feel more connected to the earth.

  Head pains eased and body relaxed, Emersyn splayed out on the warm ground and drifted in daydreams. A darkness flitted overhead, a bird taking off perhaps, and her eyes flickered beneath closed lids when her mind returned to that time, so long ago, that had marked the beginning of her new life in Gilvern with the murder of her mother.

  ∞∞∞

  Shortly after turning sixteen, Emersyn had traveled to the village of Gilvern from Kildair. Paelia had been sent a message by Sarah’s mother when Sariah, Emersyn’s mother, had been killed by bandits. Long before Sariah had become lost to a deep melancholy, she had disclosed to Sarah’s mother that in the event something horrible befell her and Gabriel, Emersyn’s father, Emersyn was to become apprentice to Paelia.

  Sister by choice though not by blood, Sarah had refused to allow Emersyn to make the journey alone. There had been an argument against her leaving. Sarah had been well-pampered and loved. Sarah’s parents were also fond of the quiet girl who had refined Sarah’s sensibilities until she was less self-centered but was still a spirited young lady. The two girls had been inseparable growing up. Sariah had stopped talking when Emersyn was a tender thirteen years old. Sarah had become her only companion and had helped the young girl with feeding and bathing her mother. Secrets shared and vows of sisterhood had been made in the midst of Emersyn’s greatest heartache.

  Emersyn knew her heart would not have survived intact if it had not been for Sarah’s unflinching support during her most trying time. It had felt natural for Sarah to join the caravan for Gilvern with Emersyn, even if the plan was for the girls to part after a year. Sarah’s destiny was to become the next mistress seamstress of Kildair alongside her mother and grandmother. Before she would be obliged to take up her place, her parents had allowed her a year to see Emersyn settled in her new life. Emersyn and Sarah had both known their future separation would mean few visits, if any, in times that saw both bandits and disease travel with impunity upon the roads while enforcer sages seemed to ignore the plight of the villages too poor to pay Wulfram’s protection taxes.

  Much larger than the ten-family village of Kildair, Gilvern was a sprawling affair that even had a marketplace. Protection by a witch of Paelia’s caliber meant, unlike Kildair, the town boasted enough wealth to pay Wulfram for continual enforcer visits. The road to Wulfram, the sage city of the North, was clear and many merchants carried the goods of Gilvern to the main market to bring back gold to add to Gilvern’s wealth.

  In Gilvern both girls met their first Annunaki. A half-blood. Bannon was the son of Lord Dalaric’s deceased brother, Varian, and a human woman.

  Bannon’s delicate elfin features and light green eyes had entranced Sarah from the start. Still a green girl, Sarah did not catch more than the barest hint of his attention upon their arrival in Gilvern. Though many human boys of like age had eyed her lush and lovely form with covetous desire, Sarah only saw Bannon.

  Emersyn had been grateful for Bannon’s initial dismissal of her friend. Due to their Akkadian blood, Annunaki lived well over a human’s years. He was nearly a hundred years old, and, despite his slight frame, Bannon possessed a well-seasoned build of lean muscle that filled the green leathers he favored in a pleasing manner. There was no doubt he was an excellent hunter and many a townswoman had tried to draw his eye but to no avail. Despite all that, his brash, crass nature grated against Emersyn’s nerves.

  When he finally took note of Sarah, Emersyn was not alone in her fear of the male. Jaela had not approved of his pursuit either. Jaela.

  Before meeting her newest sister, Emersyn had heard tales from her sage father of the shadowy warrior women of Liindre. She had not expected to find one in the woods outside Gilvern shortly after moving to the town. Sarah had been left with Paelia to help cook the last meal while Emersyn wandered into the deep of the woods to gather berries for their dessert from the base of a large oak she knew protected many bushes.

  There, passed out in the dirt beneath the large tree, Jaela had appeared as dead. Her arm had been flung to the side of her body. Leathers black as pitch clung to a strong, lean body. The beautiful mahogany color of her skin was flushed with fever. A dagger, sharp edge gleaming ivory in the dappled light, pulsed with a dark energy Emersyn had not recognized within the woman's grip. Black lines of poison pulsated from the woman's fingers and extended down passed her wrist.

  Without considering the consequences, Emersyn had dropped the basket and fallen to her knees. Mana came to her call and she forced it through the blackened veins to clear it of the unknown toxin. The woman had screamed, teeth gnashing in pain.

  "Please, let me help you," Emersyn pleaded with the unconscious woman. A hand latched onto her wrist and squeezed hard. Emersyn winced.

  Golden eyes fringed with long, dark lashes popped open to glare up at her. "Leave me to die," the woman snarled. "It is my time."

  "It doesn't have to be," Emersyn promised. She looked down to where her pale fingers still pulsed with mana. "I can force the poison back."

  The woman's head fell back in the leaves. "It will never leave me. It cannot. Wraith is me. Will always be inside me."

  "Your dagger," Emersyn whispered in awe. "That is your dagger's name? My father told me about you. That you could become invisible."

  Weak laughter met her statement. "Not invisible. Lost in the shadows, yes. Just as lost as those whose blood fed Wraith's hunger. Now it shall feast upon my damned soul."

  "I cannot leave you to die," Emersyn softly stated. "Please. Let me help you."

  "My soul belongs to Wraith and none other," the woman coldly replied. She coughed. A spot of blood clung to her bottom lip. "Your goddess does not give a damn about a foresworn woman of Liindre. My own people have banished me from their sight. They should have killed me. Go, Witch. Leave me to my fate."

  Emersyn bit her lip. Indecision warred with the desires of her heart. She would have been too afraid to approach the woman under other circumstances, let alone argue with her. But she was hurt. Dying. "No," she finally said with a sad look. "I cannot. Please do not ask me to."

  She stroked the woman's feverish brow with a soft hand, blue tendrils of mana trailing over the austere planes of the other's face. "I can help you."

  "Saving my life will invoke a bond of debt only repaid by my service," the woman sneered. "You would have to claim me, a woman of Liindre."

  "And you would have to claim me, a witch with questionable skills you no doubt would feel is beneath recognizing any other day," Emersyn replied, soft eyes smiling. "I have one sister who is not mine by birth. I would not mind another,"
she added with shy shrug of a shoulder.

  The woman scoffed, brow lifting in derision. "You want to make a sister of this?" She flexed her arm and brought the dagger to rest across her chest. "Do you know how many I have killed? How many contracts I accepted?"

  "I know the ones you killed had to be guilty of horrible things." The warriors of Liindre were renowned for their work for the sage council of Wulfram. It was said they never failed to find their prey. The elder sages sold contracts to any who would take them to hunt down those they judged as blasphemers. Her father had told her mother one night that he was glad the Matrons of Liindre only trusted the gold and gems of the Council.

  The woman groaned. "Wraith save me from naïve women."

  "What is your name?" Emersyn asked when the other woman fell silent.

  An uncomfortable handful of moments passed before the bright golden gaze once more speared hers. "Jaela," the woman finally declared.

  "Well met, Jaela," Emersyn greeted formally. "My name is Emersyn. Will you let me heal you, now?" She grimaced, shifting uncomfortably. "My behind has fallen asleep and my legs are not far from it."

  A rough chuckle was surprised from Jaela. "You are an odd witch." She paused when Emersyn flinched.

  Emersyn admitted, "I am not much of a witch. My mentor is the head of a powerful coven. She despairs of me. She says my mana may flame bright but lacks heat. That I will never be a proper witch if I cannot learn to strengthen my will and my heart."

  The pain in Jaela's arm rotted away her resolve. She groaned. "If it will convince you to leave me be, heal away," she said and waved a hand in the air. "Without the oils of Liindre's herbalists, Wraith's darkness cannot be defeated."

  "Well," Emersyn said after gripping Jaela's wrist in both hands again, "If it happens again just come back to me and I will push it away for you." She sent the rest of the called mana through the woman's arm and watched in satisfaction when the darkness faded completely.