Large, circular discs levitated in the sky then flew away without a sound. She saw the faces of soldiers through the octagon windows. A parade of colors disappeared in the distance. Deveney blinked and they were gone. Had she truly seen them at all? She swallowed hard. Yes, she knew she had. Things were different here. Maybe that was their mode of transportation. She tried to convince herself, but she doubted it. Something didn’t feel right about this.
A hand cupped her elbow and startled her. She jerked free and spun to face the person. At first glimpse, she thought it was Tor, but immediately realized it was Sven. She closed her eyes, caught her breath and willed the rapid race of her heart to slow, then opened her eyes.
“Good morning, Deveney.” Sven gave her a curt nod. “Tor hoped they would be away before you woke.”
“What was that? Where are they going? What’s going on?” Deveney issued one question after the other in a rapid-fire method. She needed to know. She locked her gaze on his face and read the indecision in his eyes. It seemed to her as if he was uncertain how he should answer so she took the options away. “Don’t lie to me, Sven. I want the truth.”
“Sister, I would never lie to you,” Sven stated, staring directly into her eyes. “But here in the courtyard is no place to discuss this. Come, let’s retire to the rear gardens and have breakfast on the veranda.”
The mention of food caused her stomach to growl, even though she’d already eaten half the tray of food in her room. At this rate, she’d be huge by the time this pregnancy ended. Taking the elbow Sven offered, she followed him to a path to the left of the front courtyard. He did not rush. Instead, he let her set the pace.
The palace wall hugged one side of the cobblestoned walkway. The other side was lined with tall, thick evergreens, which shielded them from view. A glance across her shoulder at the entrance and it appeared as if the trees cloaked the opening once they entered.
“Did the trees move?” Deveney asked in a hushed tone as she leaned close to Sven, hoping no one heard her question.
“Not completely.” Sven chuckled. “You will learn everything here in Eximius Mundus is alive and contains some form of magic. The branches simply shielded the entrance once we entered the path. And don’t fear being heard, Deveney. Our words do not leave the air around us. No one hears what’s said but you and I.”
“Oh,” Deveney stated. There was so much she needed to learn. She took a deep breath. “What were those things I saw in the air? Is that how the people of Eximius Mundus travel?”
Sven’s hand covered hers as it rested in the crook of his elbow. He attempted to appear at ease, but Deveney sensed otherwise. The casual air she’d recognized when they first met wasn’t present in his stance at the moment. He hid something, but what?
“The people of Eximius Mundus do not use the
snàmh-cèairds
you saw to travel. They require too much natural magic to operate and are only used in a time of necessity.”
“Oh, so they are emergency vehicles?”
“You could say that.”
Sven didn’t look at her. Suspicion grew in her gut as she continued her line of questioning. “What sort of emergency occurred that required Tor leave the palace surrounded by a flock of those things?” Deveney waited and watched Sven’s face carefully. She sensed he chose his answers as if he were shielding her from something. But she intended to find out the truth.
“There was a breach in the security shield that protects Eximius Mundus from the
Proprius Bestia
who reside in Dystopia. As ruler, Tor has to see to its repair.”
An unavoidable gasp escaped. Her hand slid down his chest and dropped to her side as her gaze lowered to the ground. Men turned into beasts on their birthday, she knew. Tor neared one hundred, but he was now mated.
That left… Deveney returned her eyes to Sven’s.
“Sven, I’m sorry,” Deveney stammered. “I…”
She didn’t get to finish. Sven cupped her chin in a brotherly gesture and forced a smile. “I would have it no other way. My brother deserved a mate and got you. Whatever my destiny will be…will be.”
“But we’ve found a way to save you.”
“If it is in the Goddess Nirvana’s will I receive a mate,” he sighed as he spoke, “then it will happen. If not, then I too will suffer the fate of the
Proprius
Bestia
curse.”
“I won’t let that happen to you,” Deveney stated in a rush. “I’ll contact Maven and have her send someone through the mirror for you today. I’ll…”
“Deveney.” Sven stopped her in mid-ramble. “It doesn’t work that way. The woman must have magical powers within her soul. Mates are chosen by their chakra. You have no decision in who is chosen as your mate. The mating magic guides you to the one you belong with for eternity. Your and Tor’s chakras led you to one another. The mating ritual is guided by the magic. You did not choose Tor. The magic chose Tor for you.”
Deveney swallowed hard, trying to digest Sven’s words. Thinking it through, she realized the truth. The magic between them was too strong for it to have been any other way. Still, there had to be something she could do to save Sven. Determination steeled her spine. She would not lose her new brother to some
Proprius Bestia
curse.
No, she decided. As soon as she could, she planned to return to her room and contact Maven. The parade of women with magical properties from Earth would start immediately. She bit the edge of her lower lip. That was, if there were others on Earth like her.
Ideas spun through her head at a rapid rate as they continued to walk. Something he said resurfaced, realigning her thoughts. They didn’t use those aircrafts—or
snàmh-cèairds
as Sven called them—except at a time of necessity. From the amount of men she guessed were in each one, this was more than just a repair operation. And why was it necessary to have a shield around Eximius Mundus if the
Proprius Bestia
were simply men turned into their inner beast? A sense of dread pitted in her stomach.
“Are the
Proprius Bestia
violent? Is that why there’s a shield to keep them out?”
“The
Proprius Bestia
are men trapped in their animal forms not by choice. Anger and hatred rule them. Violence becomes their nature.”
“A time of necessity.” Deveney halted their movements again. Her eyebrow arched and her lips tightened. She fisted the front of Sven’s golden robe and tugged him down to eye level. “Are we at war with the
Proprius Bestia
?”
“At the moment,” Sven replied, “we are not. But that is subject to change should they fail to seal the shield.”
* * * * *
Her second breakfast didn’t sit well in her stomach. Too many factors clogged her brain. Tor led a mission to seal a rip in the shield that protected their world from invasion. Worst in her mind, Tor’s clan protected themselves against former Morphionians. Thinking things through, she decided the
Proprius Bestia
were simply shapeshifters whose magic had gotten the better of them.
There had to be a way to help them, to correct the wrong the magic caused to their bodies. Could the curse be reversed? At the top of the stairs and deep in thought, she forgot about the door, but it somehow opened without her thinking about it. She glanced from the door to her reflection in the Mirror of Azure.
How had that happened? It just opened without so much as a thought. Deveney swallowed hard. There had to be some sort of sensor that recognized her and opened. She’d have to ask Nona later.
Deveney stood in front of the mirror. She needed Maven.
“Maven,” she called. When the magi didn’t appear, she called again. “Maven.”
This time the older woman visualized. She seemed out of breath. “Are you okay?” she whispered.
“I’m fine,” Deveney replied, then smiled. “And you don’t have to whisper. Tor is not in the palace. There is much I need to discuss with you. Tor has claimed me as his mate and knows about the baby.”
“That’s wonderful news,” Maven exclaimed. Joy filled her words. “So has he accepted the idea others should come as well?”
“In my opinion,” Deveney stated with a shake of her head, “his acceptance of the idea is no longer an option. These men need mates. Are there others like me on Earth?”
“There are, my child.” Maven’s colorless eyes glowed bright with a hint of excitement as she continued. “One even closer than you or I realized. I’ve spent many years researching possibilities. Did you think you stumbled into my store by chance?”
Deveney opened her mouth, then closed it. She wasn’t sure how she ended up in Maven’s store, but she was happy she had. Returning her gaze to Maven’s, she listened to what the magi had to say.
“I searched for the perfect answer to Tor’s stubbornness. That answer was you. Without proof this idea would work, I knew he’d never agree. And what better proof than a mate for him.”
“What about Sven?” Deveney asked. “Have you found his mate? Is there anyone who may be right for him?”
“Oh,” she said, shaking her head. Her tone hinted of something funny, but she did not reveal what humored her as she spoke. “I believe I found the perfect woman for him. This pairing deserves one another. I sense she’ll set him straight. But she needs substantial guidance before she’s ready to make the journey. I need more time.”
“Unfortunately,” Deveney wrung her hands, “time is something we do not have.”
* * * * *
Tor stood in the background while Visuvius and Sirius studied the opening. He examined the surroundings. Trackers were scattered in the forest searching for any sign the
Proprius Bestia
slipped through unnoticed before the hole was discovered. From where he stood on an incline, he had an unobstructed view of the destruction. His brows bunched as he studied the rip. It seemed odd such vibrant shades emanated from the smooth oval fissure.
In the past, the tears appeared jagged and the edges sizzled with spent magical force. No bright colors lingered, only pale shades of gray and white. Maven’s explanation of prior rips in the shield had been that the area became thinned or magically strained, causing the magic to fray and separate.
A peculiar odor filtered in the air, making everyone’s stomach churn in disgust. A foul mixture smelled heavily of sulfur and singed each breath with its stench. Was it the
Proprius Bestia
closing in on them? He doubted their odor preceded them by long distances. It had to be something else that reeked of death. The hairs on the back of Tor’s neck stood on end. This whole thing didn’t feel right.
When they arrived, Gawyn’s men took flight and maintained clear visuals on the area for miles. If the
Proprius Bestia
came near, they’d be alerted. Griswaldin set up posts along the Eximius Mundus side of the shield and formed a wall of troops surrounding Tor, Visuvius and Sirius. Nothing that poked even its nose through that fissure would survive. Not as long as Griswaldin and his men lived.
They were well armed by their latest standards. With the depletion of natural magic resources, the troops diverted from magic-oriented weaponry. No more fireball thrusters, instant incinerators, liquefiers or magical disembowelers. These weapons drained too much magic from the user and the world around them to operate. A temporary setback for the Morphionian military troops. As man, it left them vulnerable without the use of their magic.
In
bestia
shape, they fought as animals, no weapons, just claws, teeth, pure stealth and muscle. In Tor’s opinion, battles should be beast against beast. Only the strongest survived. No unnatural weapons, no wielding of magical powers, just animal against animal. Tor snorted a long, heated breath. Wars between clans led to brutal battles and death. Truces founded over a century ago kept the clans amicable. With the strain of the threat of extinction and the consistent decrease of magical resources, the clans weakened. And Tor knew only a matter of time existed before patience gave way and tempers flared to life in an all-out battle for survival.
Glancing up and down the line of men, he noted the differences, but one thing remained the same. Large or small, each wore the battle gear of destruction.
These weapons required more operator skill than magic. Hand-to-hand combat, muscle and training created a warrior. Tor rested his hand on the solid gold handle of his weapon of choice—a huge sword. Years of training made him a master. A wry smile tainted his lips. Some thought these weapons were a step back. But Tor liked hand-to-hand combat.
Past battles with the
Proprius Bestia
taught them only one thing killed them. The beast had to be pierced through the heart, which only immobilized them temporarily, it didn’t kill them. At the thought, Tor’s hand absently slid to the slender, long-bladed knife sheathed on his opposite hip. Then they had to be beheaded, thus the necessity of the huge, sharp sword. The bodies were burned and the ashes returned to the ground in hopes their magic would replenish the resources.
So far, nothing they tried reinforced the magic. Yet another problem Tor attempted to solve. He shook his head and studied the progress of Visuvius and Sirius from his vantage point. If they discovered the source of this split in the shield, maybe they’d find a way to renew and rebuild the magic. At least, that’s what he hoped.
“Itching for a fight, are you?” The deep timbre of Klondyk Kodiak’s voice snapped Tor from his thoughts. A giant in size, he stood several inches taller than Tor. He noted the nod of Klondyk’s head toward his hand on his knife.