Feral Mage Book 2: Chapter 12

Horrifying.

That was the only word to describe what Callie was witnessing. She should have expected it from Bellamy’s display at the tavern, but even that massacre didn’t prepare her for this.

She stood on the small hill watching the encampment the hunters had built around the mouth of a cave. Darren was supposed to be there, and when they first arrived, she suspected they would have a hellish time breaking the hunters from their camp. Then Bellamy told her to stay on this damn hill.

Callie watched as one of the hunters broke from cover and tried to run for the mouth of the cave.

“Stupid,” she said with a shake of her head.

The fool made it halfway before Bellamy swooped down. The large wings on her back cast an ominous shadow on the ground. The scene unfolded in an instant, but Callie saw it all clearly. The panicked look on the hunter’s face as he turned and saw Bellamy’s taloned hands reaching for his head. The claws tearing through his flesh around his neck as the powerful wings sent the Feral Mage woman back into the air with the fool’s head.

Just horrifying.

The body fell to the ground, to join the other corpses. A moment later, the hunter’s head fell from the sky with a sickening smack.

She watched from the small hill, her hand resting on the hilt of her sword, as Bellamy repeated the same scenario with the remaining hunters. Some tried to run, others she’d attack where they were hiding, pulling them out and into the air only to drop them.

When the last hunter lay dead on the ground, Callie approached the cave. Bellamy hadn’t landed yet, and she figured the woman was scouting the surroundings for any more enemies.

“Darren. You can come out,” Callie called into the cave’s mouth.

His voice echoed from within the cave.

“Callie? What the devil are you doing here?” Darren yelled, “Never mind. Get into the cave quickly! There’s a monster out there!”

Callie smirked at the panic in the dwarf’s voice.

“I know, Darren,” Callie called back. “I’m the one who brought the monster.”

As if to punctuate her statement, Bellamy landed beside her. The griffin wings and talons receded as the dark-haired woman glared at her.

“Don’t call me a monster,” she said sternly.

Callie lifted her hands and gestured to the corpses around them. Bellamy just snarled at her, which Callie returned with a smile. She wasn’t sure she could win in a fight against the woman. Even Bryce had admitted he couldn’t beat her, but there was a certain joy Callie derived from irritating the woman.

The sound of boots scraping stone brought their gaze back to the cave. Cautiously, a mud-covered Darren crept closer, the dwarf’s eyes darting around looking for any hint of an ambush.

“How long have you been in there?” she asked, taking in the state of the dwarf.

When Darren finally got to them, he relaxed.

“A few weeks. Lovely cave system, but a closed one, unfortunately. Otherwise I’d have slipped those bastards after a few days of enjoying it,” he answered. “It had a lake full of cave fish and some cavern mushrooms I haven’t had since the last time I visited my homeland. No beer though.”

Darren smiled at her and nodded.

“I’m glad to see you’re alright. I know the bastards were looking for you as well,” Darren said, then looked to Bellamy with a nervous smile. “Thank you for the rescue. The name’s Darren.”

He held out his hand to Bellamy, then noticed it was covered in mud and pulled it back.

“He’s the one who knows where Bryce is?” Bellamy asked.

Callie nodded.

Darren frowned at Callie.

“Callie,” he said with a heavy sigh. “Bryce didn’t steal the young lass away. Alice died on that boat. You need to let her go.”

“Alice?” Bellamy asked.

Callie saw the woman looking at her with narrowed eyes.

“My Queen, Alice Winter. The last daughter of the late Ice Queen.”

Bellamy looked from her to Darren, who just shook his head. When they found Alice, she was never going to let the drunken bastard forget that she had been right.

“Bellamy and I are seeking Bryce to warn him about the assassins. I learned they’re after him as well, but he slipped out of the Red Pine Kingdom before they could locate him,” Callie said.

And if I find where Alice is while we do, all the better.

Darren stopped shaking his head and swore.

“Damn it! He and those girls are in danger!”

Bellamy’s head whipped toward Callie, and her eyes narrowed again.

“Girls?”

Callie looked at Bellamy curiously. Her voice had asked the question with a hint of something… though she wasn’t sure what.

“He travels with a kitsune and a very annoying wolfkin,” Callie answered.

The stone-faced woman’s facade almost cracked at that. Callie watched as her eyes widened, only to look away and her usual demeanor return as she faced Darren.

Well… that’s interesting…

“Do you know where we can find him?” Bellamy asked the dwarf.

Callie grimaced as Darren shook his head in thought, then snapped his fingers.

“The twins might know. They’re friends of Bryce and work with him on occasion. If they aren’t on a job, they’ll be in Witchbrook.”

Bellamy nodded.

“Then we’re going to Witchbrook.”

Thea

Thea had to fly over the small grove just once for the carriage to roll out of where it was hidden. The guards her uncle had assigned to protect it had always impressed her with their diligence. She almost believed they didn’t even sleep.

She landed beside the horse-drawn carriage, and one of the guards worked to calm the horse down. She had once considered herself very good with horses, spending much of her time riding the lands around Castle Haven. Now her mere presence seemed to spook the beasts, not that she could blame them.

“Your attire, my lady,” one of the guards said, holding out the folded black garb.

Thea looked at it with disdain, but took it.

She unfolded it and started to don the attire. First was the black cloak that concealed her wings, giving her a hunched figure. The thick gloves were next, crafted to mask the scaled claws that were now her hands. The final piece was a veil that served a dual purpose. The first was to prevent others from seeing her fiery red eyes and the cut-off horns on her head. The other reason was to add credence to the story her uncle had concocted.

“Am I presentable?” she asked one of the guards.

They were the only ones besides her uncle to have seen her as she was now. As the monster she was.

“I see no issues with your attire, my lady,” the guardswoman said with a bow.

Thea took a deep breath and moved to the carriage door, slipping inside once it was open for her.

She appreciated the escorts her uncle had selected for her personal guards. Never had they mistreated her or acted afraid. No, they always presented themselves in a professional manner, nothing more and nothing less.

The tasks her uncle asked of her, she was less appreciative of. Thea stared at her thick gloves, picturing her bloody claws through them. She had washed them several times, but she felt like they were still slick with the dwarf’s blood.

She had hated that feeling, hated how the scent stirred the hunger of the monsters’ souls inside her. The carriage moving broke her from the self-reflection, and she quickly grabbed one of the books she had stored within it. She had become an avid reader since the incident at the Red Pine Kingdom. The escapism it offered was welcomed compared to the reality of her life.

An hour passed before she heard the call of the gate guard at the Count’s castle. She placed the marker inside the book and prepared for the façade her uncle had planned for her.

“Lady Volson,” a guard greeted with a bow as she stepped out of the carriage slowly.

She had to play the part of someone injured. That was her story, burned and scarred by the fires that consumed her betrothed and his family in Sentinel. A believable tale once word spread of the state of Queen Lillian Redpine, the sole survivor of the Redpine family. How Thea hated that many had bestowed the moniker of ‘The Burned Queen’ upon the young elven woman.

Thea had her own monikers and whispers said about her as well, though none to her face. She still heard them thanks to the effects of her being a chimera. Her hearing was better than that of any normal human, and her sense of smell was as well.

“The poor girl. To hide herself in such a way. The burns must have been horrible,” the gate guard said when he believed she was out of earshot. “The lass will probably never marry again.”

“Naw, she’s too valuable,” another guard replied. “Some lucky prick will wed her, put a kid in her, and be set for life.”

Did people always speak about me in such a way?

She had felt like a bargaining tool when her father had betrothed her to Prince Vance. She understood what was expected of her as a princess, but she had never heard anyone be as blunt or cruel as what she had since transforming into a monster.

Her personal guards led her through the courtyard of the Count’s castle and into his estate. Laughter greeted her once they stepped into the parlor.

“Lady Volson!” the Count called out as she entered, a smile on the man’s face. “I hope you enjoyed your tour of the countryside?”

The two men were seated in chairs before a table, each holding a glass of amber liquid and a decanter partially filled with it on the small table between them. One of the men was Count Gerland, and the other was her uncle, Harold Volson.

Thea was almost taken aback by the Count’s change in personality. When they arrived days ago, the Count had been very standoffish and extended the barest of hospitality to them.

That is like Uncle Harold, though. His good nature seems to turn enemies into allies.

Thea’s father, King Jackson Volson, took credit for forging the alliances between the northern human kingdoms. Still, Thea had learned from the whispers of those in Castle Haven that it was really Harold who visited the Deathridge and Graystone kingdoms first.

Her uncle Harold set his glass down and stood.

“Count Gerland, please excuse me. I wish to see how my niece’s journey was,” Harold said with a bow.

Count Gerland raised his glass to the man.

“Very well, as long as you don’t forget we’re playing cards later with some of the early guests for the feast!”

Her uncle smiled at the Count.

“I wouldn’t dare miss it, my friend.”

Harold gestured for Thea to lead, and he started walking beside her. Their conversation was very mundane, asking her what she thought of the countryside and how her fictional burns were healing.

“We’re alone,” Thea said once she no longer smelled or heard any of the Count’s men.

Her uncle stopped and faced her, a warm smile on his face, but one that didn’t reach his eyes. He reached out and lifted the veil hiding her face.

“I am sorry you must wear this dreadful thing, dear,” Harold said as he held out his hands for her.

Thea looked at them with trepidation. Her uncle had always been a kind man to her, someone she loved and knew she could depend on. Even when she transformed into a monster, Harold hadn’t changed in how he treated her. Yet the man now terrified Thea, a primal fear she didn’t understand. Even the souls of the monsters inside her feared him. She could feel them cowering as she reached out and took her uncle's hands. As soon as she touched him, the monsters’ souls retreated from her own, and she felt a peacefulness settle over herself.

“I take it you took care of the little problem with The Red-Shield Company?” he asked, a kind smile on his aged face.

Thea nodded.

“Yes, uncle. The graverobber is dead.”

Harold smiled and released her hands.

“Nasty business, my dear. The whole affair, in truth, but necessary.”

Necessary. That was the word her uncle always used when he needed to justify something. It was necessary that they hire mercenaries to attack the shores of their ally, in hopes of pressuring the Brook Kingdom into talks. It was necessary for Thea to kill, again and again. How many had died by her hands now? Seven? All in the name of necessity for the Kingdom of Volpin.

“Were you seen?” Harold asked.

The question caught Thea off guard.

“No,” she lied.

Harold nodded in approval.

Bryce.

She was sure that’s who the man was, even if she had only seen him from a distance. Bellamy’s other pupil, the one she called a failure. Though Thea guessed that’s what she was as well… a failure.

Her uncle just smiled warmly at her.

“Go and rest, dear,” he said as he lowered the veil over her face. “I must return to Count Gerland.”

Thea said her farewells, then followed the guards to her room. Once inside, she was finally alone, even the monster souls inside her were dormant, along with the urges they inflicted upon her. Thea locked the door to her room, removed the heavy black garments, and crawled into her bed. She wrapped herself around a pillow, burying her face into it, and started to cry.