Prologue
The girl walked into the large cave with sure steps but faltered when she saw destruction all around her. Some epic battle must have occurred there. She side-stepped boulders and rocks that were tossed around like playing stones and walked past gaping fissures in the walls to make her way to a circular stone table in the center of the cave. The man who’d told her about this place had said a single person caused this damage. That seemed unlikely. If it were true, magic must have been the ruin of this place. Strong magic, by the damage done.
Marta hadn’t believed him. Still, she’d decided to see for herself. She ran her hands along the flat surface of the rock table. The stone altar, the lone structure that remained unscathed, thrummed as if calling to her. A golden light, the color of her hair, emanated from the altar’s center, so weak it barely illuminated the cavern.
Bumps rippled across Marta’s arms and she pulled her long tresses over her shoulder, pressing them tight to her skin to calm the hairs on the back of her neck. She glanced around the cave and saw nothing, yet the sensation of being watched was overwhelming. Turning back to the light, she bit her lip. She’d never seen light like this. What was it? Could it be magic? Had this light given strength to whoever had destroyed this cave?
Deep longing filled her. She wanted that power. She’d always known her destiny extended beyond the life of a goatherd’s daughter in a small village barely able to sustain itself. That belief had brought her to this cave. At eighteen, her family expected her to do her part, herding goats, cooking, cleaning. Endowed with a natural beauty and lithe form, Marta was not designed for menial labor and never would be.
She rubbed her trim waist and flat stomach. More than ready to step into her future, she reached toward the light.
“I suggest you not do that.”
Marta leaped back. The voice, deep yet obviously female, came from nowhere, and everywhere. Inside her head, echoing off the walls of the cave. She turned in all directions, seeing no one until a shadow separated itself from the wall. A very tall shadow.
Gulping back a cry, she fought back the fear that screamed at her to run as the thing loomed over her. A cowled cape hid everything except golden eyes. Marta peered closer, unable to see any face. Darkness obscured everything except those shining orbs.
“You’re the one with the power,” she said, more to herself than to the apparition in front of her.
The giant floated around her, invading her space. Marta stood still and ramrod straight. She cowered before no one, even if the smell of decay made her want to gag.
“You like the idea of power.”
Marta raised her chin. “I am destined for great things.”
“You have much pride,” the ethereal voice said as the apparition came to a stop in front of Marta.
Marta looked straight into the soulless eyes. “A deserved pride.”
“Hmm. Too much, I think.” The hooded head cocked to one side. “Still, you remind me of someone I once knew. And that pride may be of use.”
“Who are you?”
The shape straightened and grew even taller, if that were possible. “I am Taegar. I am the isa, that which provides clarity to the world and bends it to my righteous path. I am thurisaz, creator of chaos, and tiwaz, ruler of all. I am the Dark circle.”
A druid circle? Marta had heard the rumors. How the druids tried to help mankind when the magic first showed up, inevitably causing the Great Magic War that had almost destroyed Earth. That long-ago battle had led to the mundane, deficient life she’d been forced to live. She’d heard there were once great cities with lights that did not flicker and machines that carried you along so you didn’t have to walk everywhere.
Marta wanted that life. She resented those who’d taken it away before she’d even had a say in the matter.
“Your kind destroyed my destiny,” Marta said, contempt dripping from every word.
Suddenly, she was picked up by nothing but air and thrown across the cave. She thudded against the wall, her head smacking rock. Pain radiated through her body as she crumpled to the floor like a cloth doll.
“Be careful what you say and how you say it, pretty girl.” The voice grew deafening, reverberating off the walls, crashing through Marta’s head like thunder until she covered her ears. “Your words will cause you much pain if you do not censure them.”
When the voice died away, Marta looked up to see that the druid stood beside the altar, looking into the dim light, mumbling to herself.
Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. Marta stood and wiped her hands on her dress, glancing back the way she’d entered.
“Do not try to leave. We are not done with our conversation.” Taegar beckoned. “Come here.”
An invisible force dragged Marta forward. Today had quickly gone from bad to worse. She needed to do something soon or she would not survive this encounter.
At the altar, the force dissipated with such speed that Marta barely stopped herself from falling. She’d about had it with this Taegar, playing with her like she was some toy. She glared at the caped figure. “I think it’s time for me to leave.”
“Not yet. I have a use for you.”
“Well, I don’t—”
Marta’s ability to talk disappeared. She tried to speak, to scream, cough, anything. Nothing came out.
A thin, bony finger reached out and lifted Marta’s chin until no choice remained except to stare into the golden eyes. “You will do as I wish, or you will die.”
For the first time, probably in her whole existence, Marta knew deep, clenching fear. It permeated her, consumed her until her body shook with the need to flee, to run until she was so far away from this place no one could ever find her.
The hand, or whatever it was, lowered, pointing at her chest.
I’m going to die.
“You will not die,” Taegar said.
Marta slumped against the altar.
“Not if you do exactly as I tell you.”
Taegar opened her hand to reveal several small stones. Not ordinary stones. These had symbols on them. They were runes. Marta had seen them once before, when a self-proclaimed shaman tried to convert everyone by making them believe he was magical and able to conjure up a better life. All he’d really wanted was their food, and they’d run him out of town after only a few days.
Turning back to the altar, Taegar reached into the light, whispering words in a language Marta had never heard. At first, nothing happened. The whispering strengthened. The light sputtered as it fought the demands upon it. The ground shook. When everything stopped and the light disappeared, Marta gasped. One second, two seconds, more, then it roared to life, so bright it hurt her eyes.
Golden light shot from Taegar’s hand into Marta’s chest, weak at first, then gaining strength. Taegar’s eyes flashed brighter. Power flowed into Marta. She grew warm, then hot, burning with a magic that screamed through her body, knowing without a doubt she could do anything now. She had the magic. She was supreme. And she would have anyone and anything she desired.
The light shooting into her dimmed, then faded completely as Taegar lowered her arm, releasing the magic back to the weak stream that came from the rock. Marta looked at her hands. A new tattoo marked her palm, an upward pointing arrow with a thorn on its stem. She flexed and straightened her fingers, still tingling from head to toe. She felt the magic humming inside her. She’d never known such power. Her power. The life she deserved lay within her grasp.
Marta held her hand out toward the wall. She visualized a fireball and one shot from her fingertips, making her jump back. The cave wall in front of her exploded in a shower of rock.
Oh, yes, she planned to enjoy this gift a lot. Still, she’d learned the hard way that everything came with a price. Would great power require a great price? She glanced up at the figure who leaned against the altar.
“Yes, pretty girl, there is a price. This power is more than I’ve given anyone, but it will not last forever. There is a task you must do for me. If you accomplish it, I will make your powers permanent.
The light in the center of the altar was now almost invisible. She glanced at the wall, watched the dust settle to show the gaping hole in the rock. She’d done that with a simple thought. Who cared about the task? This reward was worth any price, so Marta turned back to Taegar.
“What do you need me to do?”
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