Visioner (The Shifter War Book 2) Read online

  Visioner

  The Shifter War Book Two

  K K Ness

  Copyright © 2017 K K Ness.

  All rights reserved.

  www.kkness.com

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events, organizations, businesses, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be reproduced, loaned or used without written permission, except where permitted by law. To request permission and all other inquiries, contact the author at the website above.

  Cover art by Deranged Doctor Design

  For Ma.

  We acknowledge the Bindal and Wulgurukaba people upon whose Country this book was written.

  1

  Danil pushed through the ferns, his homespun tunic damp with cold as a slow drizzle swept down from the Amasian mountains.

  A stream led him east, where trees grew thick and wild. Danil could hear the steady drip of water echo deep within long abandoned mine shafts as he passed their entrances. He took care to step clear of the unstable shale fields covered with newly grown moss and lichen as a force he didn’t understand, but was compelled to follow, drew him forward.

  An abandoned hut emerged from the early morning gloom, its door askew and mud walls overrun with vines. More huts sat amongst the sprawling trees and thick undergrowth, marking where the village of Farin and its people had once eked out a harsh existence on the edge of the deadlands. Danil paused at a blackened mound, bile rushing into his mouth as he was assaulted with memories of what lay beneath.

  He could never forgive the magi of Roldaer for what they had done in their quest to awaken the halfbreed, Kaul. The promise of kiandrite crystals, the source of the magi’s waning power, had seen the Roldaerians cut a path of destruction through everything Danil had once held dear and forced him to become a traitor to his people to prevent a catastrophic war. In the process, Danil had discovered a connection to the deadlands not seen since the Great War, and his life irrevocably changed.

  Danil felt a soft hum beneath his feet, a gentle whisper of comfort wrapping itself around his mind. As he watched, a single flower pushed its way through the blackened soil. Petals of shimmering blue peeled open as though to embrace the awakening day. Balance was returning.

  Breath pluming, Danil continued deeper into Farin as a force that had been calling him for days beckoned him closer. He paused in the town square, recalling better times when a troupe of acrobats had performed, and the once vibrant streets had been filled with laughter. Instinctively, Danil crouched beside a ring of mushrooms and pressed a hand to the wet soil. A soft murmuring filled his mind as magic pushed up through the ground. He waited.

  There, burrowing its way out of the dark mud, was a kiandrite crystal. No larger than his forefinger, it changed from silver to blue as Danil gently wiped away the remaining dirt. The Corros House glyph on his palm glowed as if in greeting, and he felt a surge of warmth when the crystal momentarily turned gold to match.

  An oversized red wolf trotted out from the undergrowth and padded toward Danil with a confident swagger. Danil buried his hand in the fur before scrunching his nose as the wolf snuffled happily in his face. The wolf gave him a grin, tongue lolling to one side in amusement. Spying the crystal, the wolf tilted his head curiously and nosed at it. The air shimmered, and suddenly Hafryn crouched beside him, green eyes reverent.

  “Your first crystal as custodian, Danil,” he murmured in awe.

  Turning it about to catch the weak morning light, Danil said, “It’s beautiful.”

  The heart of the crystal brightened to emerald.

  Hafryn snorted. “It knows it has admirers.”

  Danil grinned. “I guess so. Though I didn’t expect to find it in Farin.” An old ache settled in his throat as he glanced once more at the decaying buildings around them.

  The wolf shifter shrugged. “You grew up here, no? Perhaps it chose this place in honor of your custodianship.”

  Danil supposed Hafryn had a point. Only two months had passed since the failed magi plot. It was his duty now to ensure that the magic that had been trapped for centuries by Kaul’s desire for domination was able to grow across the land as originally intended.

  “Should I keep it?” Danil asked. The crystal sent a warm, buzzing vibration up his arm.

  “It would be an insult not to, fala. We can’t leave it here, in any case. Roldaer isn’t the best place for kiandrite.”

  Danil grunted. Any magi who came upon the crystal would grind it up for spells and curses. “We shouldn’t be here in any case—Elania and Blutark won’t like that we’ve left the deadlands.”

  Hafryn winked. “Your tutors are probably wondering why you’ve skipped out on a lesson.”

  Groaning, Danil said, “As long as they don’t make me create magelights, I’ll do double.”

  “Magelights aren’t so difficult.”

  “For Amasians, maybe,” Danil groused. Most days, even the simplest enchantments seemed beyond his ability to master. Magelights were one of the enchantments taught to younglings just coming into their gifts. He eyed Hafryn. “I’ve never seen you make one.”

  Hafryn rose to his feet and stretched his arms above his head to expose his lithe belly. “I have other talents.”

  “I’m aware,” Danil replied dryly.

  Hafryn’s grin turned rakish as he gripped the fabric of Danil’s tunic. Danil let himself be tugged up and close until the full length of his body pressed against Hafryn’s. The shifter’s green eyes brightened. “I suppose you are, fala.”

  Suddenly, the crystal in Danil’s hand burned angrily, and he stepped away from Hafryn in alarm. “Why is it—?” Danil stopped at the crunch of footsteps in the leaf mold.

  They whirled as six Roldaerian soldiers stepped out from behind the fernery. Swords drawn, they crowded close.

  The crystal in Danil’s fist darkened.

  Air rippling, Hafryn transformed back into a snarling wolf. He pushed in front of Danil, hackles bristling as he bared his teeth. Danil gripped his ruff and buried the crystal in his pocket. Hastily he drew the dagger at his waist. Beneath him, the leylines stirred in agitation.

  A middle-aged woman stepped between the soldiers. Finely dressed in red robes and fur-lined cloak, she bore an officious silver crest on a long chain about her neck. Her pale hair was held back by a jeweled clasp, her dark eyes mild as they swept over Danil and Hafryn.

  “How momentous to find you here,” she said, drawing closer. Her robes rustled over ferns and detritus.

  Hafryn’s growl deepened. He pushed back into Danil’s legs, propelling him away from the Roldearians.

  Pausing, the woman pressed a hand to her chest. “Oh, there’s no need for alarm, Amasian,” she said, eyes wide. “I bring you no ill will.”

  Danil eyed her and the soldiers critically. “Then why are you here?”

  She curtseyed, making the jewel in her hair twinkle. “I am Arlyn Nera, an emissary of King Liam of Roldaer.” Straightening, she smiled. “I have been tasked to make contact with the High Council of Amas. We wish to parlay for peace.”

  2

  Against his better judgment, Danil led the emissary and two of her soldiers into the deadlands.

  They stuck to groves where ferns and trees grew thick, the streams running clear of the remnant foulness still leaching into other parts of the deadlands not yet touched by the leylines. Hafryn strode beside him in wolf form, his shoulder brushing against the back of Danil’s leg. A low growl of warning emitted from his throat whenever the sold
iers stepped too close.

  The leylines themselves thrummed with energy beneath Danil’s boots.

  “Fascinating,” Arlyn marveled as she drew up beside Danil. She pointed to the rich canopy with its epiphytes and hanging moss. “I expected the deadlands to be nothing but rocks and poisoned water. How, pray tell, did this come about?” Her eyes were bright with wonder.

  “Ask Magus Brianna,” Danil muttered as he ducked under a low branch.

  The Roldaerian emissary smiled. “I’m afraid I never met her, and my sources inform me that her memory of what transpired here is lost.” She eyed him speculatively. “I did receive missives regarding you, though, Danil of Farin. Your Roldaerian accent is unmistakable.”

  Danil paused, staring. “I’m sure whatever you read was enlightening, Emissary Arlyn.”

  “Please, just Arlyn,” she said with another warm smile. “I believe we want similar things, Danil.”

  “How do you figure that?” He continued along the banks of a stream. A small school of fish scattered when his shadow swept over them.

  She gave an elegant shrug and held her hand out to him for help to cross the stream. Begrudgingly, Danil offered her his arm. “War is hardly to our kingdom’s benefit, Danil,” she said. “I’m certain it’s the same for Amas.”

  “It’s not Amas who invaded Roldaer,” Danil pointed out. “Magus Brianna sent a contingent into Altonas to steal kiandrite and relics.”

  “A misdeed I hope to address,” Arlyn said, her voice determined. “But we didn’t just now come upon you and your wolf in neutral territory, either, Danil.”

  Danil frowned. “Farin was my home until Magus Brianna murdered everyone in it.”

  “A terrible offense on her part,” Arlyn murmured, her expression sympathetic as she patted his arm. “But the village nonetheless remains part of Roldaer, and no Amasian should be there.” She tightened her grip on his arm and pulled him to a stop. Her eyes glowed earnestly. “Danil, you must know that I mean no ill will. I want peace between us. I wish merely to point out that both sides have made mistakes.”

  “Mistakes,” Danil repeated, a little astonished at how she measured different transgressions.

  She smiled and tilted her head coyly. “Of course. But I’ll fuss over it no more. I won’t even demand that you return that mage-crystal you stole from Farin.”

  Danil resisted the urge to touch his side. The crystal was a warm hum in the back of his mind. “A generous gesture, Arlyn,” he gritted out.

  The emissary beamed. “Think nothing of it. We are going to be firm friends, you and I.”

  Hafryn snapped the air angrily with his teeth. Abruptly he trotted ahead to where the stream forked around a large boulder. A familiar voice called out, and suddenly Blutark emerged with his bow in hand. Easily a head taller than Danil, Blutark was an imposing figure even in his human form. He took a bead on Arlyn, the glyphs on the arrow’s shaft glowing.

  “Step away, Roldaerian,” Blutark growled.

  Hafryn transformed and made a quelling gesture. “We’re escorting Emissary Arlyn to camp.”

  Arlyn raised her hands, smiling. “Enchanter,” she said to Blutark. “Forgive our unannounced arrival.”

  Eyes narrowing, Blutark lowered his bow but kept the bowstring taut. “You’ll honor peace in the camp, Roldaerian?”

  “Of course.”

  Blutark motioned to the two soldiers flanking Arlyn with his chin. “How many more in your retinue, emissary?”

  “Four, but they are content to await my return in Farin.”

  Blutark nodded, but Danil could tell by the tightness around the bear shifter’s mouth that he wasn’t ready to believe her. He motioned Danil to him. “Lead the way, Danil.”

  A graveled path led them out of the grove and onto a barren expanse of exposed rock. A snow leopard sat waiting for them, amber eyes watchful. Her tail flicked as the Roldaerian soldiers passed. She shared a meaningful look with Blutark before falling in behind them.

  They reached the camp in time for an immense golden dragon to wheel overhead.

  Dust swirled and eddied beneath the stroke of mighty wings as the dragon landed upon the rocky plateau to the west of the camp. Shielding his eyes, Danil waited as the dragon folded his wings and transformed into a tall, dark-haired man. A sword sat at the dragon shifter’s hip, his shirt brocaded with gold, his boots polished to gleaming. A sapphire ring flashed in the sunlight.

  “Sonnen,” Hafryn said, striding across to clasp the man’s arm heartily.

  The dragon prince’s eyes turned foreboding when they landed on the Roldaerians. “What has happened?”

  Arlyn curtseyed, while the two soldiers behind her bowed. “Prince Sonnen, I am Emissary Arlyn Nera. My king has tasked me to negotiate with the High Council of Amas for peace between our great kingdoms.”

  Golden eyes unreadable, Sonnen inclined his head. “Emissary Arlyn, this is an unexpected pleasure. Blutark, please organize refreshments for the emissary and her escort.”

  Arlyn smiled and curtseyed again. “Your generosity is appreciated, Your Highness. I hope you can join me when it suits. We have much to discuss.”

  Sonnen gave her a terse nod.

  She and her soldiers followed Blutark down into the camp. Elania, still in her snow leopard Trueform, padded silently up to Sonnen. She gave a questioning chirrup.

  Flames showed in Sonnen’s eyes as he watched the Roldaerians enter one of the brightly colored tents lining the gully below. Pennants with the glyph of Corros snapped and furled in the breeze above the camp.

  “Elania,” Sonnen rumbled. “Take a contingent east. We must know how many Roldaerians are at the border.”

  “Emissary Arlyn says there are just four,” Hafryn said.

  “Do you believe her?” Sonnen asked.

  “Of course not.”

  Sonnen returned his gaze to Elania. “Find where they are, but do not engage. Report back to me by nightfall.”

  Elania gave a small warble of agreement and took off at a lope down into the camp.

  Sonnen turned to Hafryn and Danil. “What fresh game is this?”

  Hafryn shook his head. “I’m certain I have no idea. But the emissary is well informed. She knew Danil just by his accent, and Blutark, too.”

  “Then it is fortuitous I returned early,” the dragon prince said. “The High Council has adjourned to contemplate our course of action against Roldaer.”

  Hafryn studied his friend. “Can we expect things to go our way?”

  Sonnen’s mouth tightened. “The councilors are unconvinced that protecting the deadlands is an Amasian problem. Emissary Arlyn may prove a boon to them.”

  Danil’s shoulders sank. The deadlands had been left to languish for centuries as a desolate buffer between Amas and Roldaer. It was only after the leylines had been freed that life began to thrive once more in the gullies and canyons. As custodian, it was Danil’s responsibility to protect the leylines from being plundered for their magic. He had little idea how to succeed without Amasian aid.

  Sonnen turned to Danil, his eyes assessing. “The High Council would do well do visit here. You’ve been busy, custodian. The greening of the deadlands continues apace—an impressive sight from the air.”

  Danil shrugged, forcing down a flare of pride. “It’s all the leylines’ doing.”

  Sonnen swept his hand toward the ferns and saplings marking the path down into the camp. “You underestimate your achievements, Danil. The leylines have done well under your guidance.”

  Such praise only caused a knot in his belly. “The High Council doesn’t seem to care what happens if the leylines are lost to Roldaer.”

  “It will be a generation at least until there is harvestable kiandrite,” Sonnen muttered in agreement. “Time enough for the deadlands to be someone else’s problem.”

  Hafryn gave the dragon a chagrined look. “About that…”

  Sonnen frowned. “The first crystal has emerged? It is too soon, Hafryn.”

 
; “I sensed it three days ago,” Danil said, recalling the warm buzz that had pulled him from sleep. “We found the crystal in Farin.”

  Sonnen grimaced. “That is unfortunate.”

  Hafryn gave Danil a comforting look. “But it also makes sense, considering Danil’s heritage.”

  “Aye.” The dragon prince rubbed his face. “However, no kiandrite has been harvested in Roldaer for centuries. Some councilors will see today as a bad omen, no matter that a first crystal is always cause for celebration.”

  Heart heavy, Danil said, “It’s my fault. I’m supposed to herd the leylines into safe groves, not into Roldaer.”

  “You are the reason the leylines exist at all,” Sonnen countered, voice firm. “Do not forget that, custodian.”

  Danil managed a nod but feared that his inability to control the leylines would allow the magi to return to power. The thought of their dark magic being powered by the kiandrite that he was supposed to protect made him feel ill.

  “May I see it?” Sonnen asked.

  Blinking, Danil took the small crystal from his pocket. It turned sullen yellow at being handed over.

  Sonnen lifted it toward the weak sunlight streaming through the clouds. “A handsome stone,” he murmured. The crystal momentarily flickered blue before returning to yellow. “And its heart belongs to you, Danil. You should keep it close.”

  The dragon wove a symbol in the air. Long silver twine came into being to wrap around the crystal. Sonnen handed it back, and Danil tied the cord about his neck. The gem swirled blue and purple against his chest.

  “Thank you,” Danil said.

  “For now, its origins should remain hidden,” Sonnen declared. “We have allies on the council, but the Houses far removed from the border are slow to understand the danger we face. Let’s not give them any reason to doubt our cause, or your loyalty, Danil.”

  “Danil has proved his loyalty, Sonnen, many times over,” Hafryn growled.