“Why the change?”
“Memory returned. Let’s go to war.”
Chapter Forty-Two
The aroma of tea, steaming with fragrant spiced leaves, greeted Morgan as she was led to the enclosed garden patio for her meeting with Vlad on his island. A twelve-foot-high man-made waterfall emptied into a pool filled with water lilies and gold-and-white-speckled koi.
Vlad motioned toward a group of high-backed wicker chairs with a view of the ocean. Wordlessly he offered her a cup of the tea. She sipped the warm brew, relaxing despite her suspicions. The comforting and familiar smell seemed at odds with her meeting Vlad. She’d tried earlier to probe his mind and failed. He must have learned a powerful warding spell.
“You surprise me, Grand Vizier. I had not expected a warm reception, or your knowledge that I enjoy chai.”
He leaned against the back of the chair, which creaked in response to his weight. He steepled his fingers, and as he did, the cuff of his sleeve slid down his wrist and revealed Caitline’s tattoo. Three interlocking spirals connected in the center. The Triskelion represented the physical world, the spiritual world and the afterlife.
Morgan’s cup rattled against the saucer. That tattoo confirmed that he had murdered her. She took one breath and then another, trying to calm her racing heart.
Unaware of what she had learned, he continued. “I truly did not know how I would feel when I saw you again. Awe. Respect. Hatred. Perhaps a combination of all three. It no longer matters. You must realize by now that your plan will fail.”
Morgan steadied her cup so it wouldn’t teeter off the saucer to the tile floor. “My plan is to support the nomination of Zephra to the open position on the Grey Council.”
Vlad drummed his fingers on the arm of the chair. “The plan I speak of is the one to strip me of power and elect a new GrandVizier. I know about the forces you have hidden, waiting for your command, and the women who have come here with more than a conquest of the heart in mind. You will fail,” he repeated. “This island is my own private kingdom. Order your forces to surrender and I will spare those who swear allegiance to me. The alternative is for my army to hunt them down like rabid dogs.”
“Your thirst for power has blinded you, Grand Vizier, and fooled you into believing you are surrounded by those who would betray you. The only power we seek is to live as we choose. We wish to love openly without spells and enchantments that hide our true selves and to keep our children with us to train and nurture. We want to live without fear that we will be murdered before our time.”
His smile was a thin line across his face. “You ask that we change centuries of tradition. Unacceptable. I know the female Wizards and the young Wizardlings are on the Trolls’ compound. I do not wish to take them by force. It sends a confusing message. But I will if they resist.”
She saw the red haze of hatred in his mind and flinched. “Even if the female Wizards come peacefully, you still plan to kill them.” She gasped. “And you have already attacked the Trolls’ compound!”
His grip tightened on the arms of his wicker chair, splintering the cane as he edged closer. “The moment you and your sister Wizards left the island, I knew what I must do. They rejected the old ways and must be dealt with accordingly.” He leaned forward. “But how dare you read my thoughts, witch?”
Morgan winced at the term “witch,” knowing he meant it as a term of disrespect, harking back to an era when Wizards thought themselves superior to witches. “I do not need to be a seer to know your thoughts.”
“Regardless, I have a remedy for such as you.” He extended his arm toward her, turning his hand slowly as though he held her beating heart within his grasp.
The cup and saucer slid from her hands and crashed to the floor, shattering into tiny pieces. The pain in her chest was intense. It was as though her heart was being crushed. Was this how he’d killed the other female Wizards the first night of the festival? Had it caught them so unaware that they had not realized they were being murdered? Morgan drew her hands into tight fists. If she could summon the water in the pool, a wave might knock into his concentration, perhaps break it entirely. She murmured the words of the spell, but only ripples formed on the surface.
He lowered his arm. His hands dwarfed the teapot, making it look like a child’s play set as he poured her another cup. Vlad’s’ mouth twitched in a sneer. “Would you like more tea, milady?”
The crushing pain around her heart eased. But the feeling of fear remained. She stared at the tea. She remembered being offered it the first night of Bealtaine, but she’d been too distracted to eat or drink.
“Poison?”
“More of a way to neutralize your powers by putting Oculist in your tea. A side effect I discovered quite by accident. A small amount can render a Wizard’s power nonexistent, while a larger amount can kill. When our kind was made up of mere dark and light witches, and when ‘Wizard’ was a title bestowed only on males, four god-like creatures, each representing one of the elements of Fire, Earth, Air and Water, challenged the best of our male warriors to see if they were ready to take on the awesome power of the planet. The warrior fighting as the water god’s representative was injured. His woman stepped in and finished the fight before we could replace him with anothermale. It should never have been allowed. She stole the fourth power from us—the power over water.”
“Without us, no one, male or female, would have received the powers we now possess,” Morgan stated. “Mananea was defending her lover. Our histories tell us that the real reason the god creatures gifted the element’s power to us was because of our compassion for one another.”
“Your truths, not mine.”
A guard burst into the garden. “Grand Vizier. We have a situation!”
Chapter Forty-Three
The Trolls’ compound was under attack.
Rowan had never faced an enemy quite like the Ravs. They possessed all the strengths of Nature with none of her weaknesses. In human form, the Ravs were tall, slender, with sinewy cords of muscles. Their wings transformed into long razor-sharp blades, and their strength and agility were unequaled in either the magical or the human world. The creatures sensed each attack, moments before it came, as hatred poured from their coal-black eyes. They may have allied with Vlad, but only because it served some unknown purpose of their own. Once they were unleashed and tasting victory, Rowan doubted if even Vlad could control them.
When it was discovered that Morgan had headed to Vlad’s island, members of the magical community and Air Wizards had followed her there. He had no way of knowing if they had succeeded in rescuing her, and blast it all, he had his hands full fighting Ravs.
The Ravs Rowan had fought and killed lay at his feet while others moved to take their place. Their screech-like laughter seemed to taunt him as they danced around him, striking at will. Rowan’s clothes were in tatters and his body lacerated by the Ravs’ attacks. His body was covered with both his blood and theirs. He’d been surprised theirs was red. He’d thought their blood would be as black as their souls.
