Wild Magic (The Island Book 1) by C.M. Estopare

Author:C.M. Estopare [Estopare, C.M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: C.M. Estopare
Published: 2017-10-04T16:00:00+00:00

31

A turquoise aurora hung above the rafters of the Shamaness’s hut. Ren gasped as she entered, the Shamaness releasing her hand as she clasped her own behind her back.

“I know what you’ve done, Outsider.”

Ren gritted her teeth.

“I am proud of your accomplishments.” She said, that inky aura visible now. It pulsed at the center of the Shamaness’s chest, spreading out wide like the liquid tentacles of an octopus. “You’ve learned our foundations from Elder Lindiwe. You’ve sparred with Shield Seble. Our Air Scion has taught you the basics of breath and controlling the Rage.” Ren gawked. “Yes, I know. Don’t think I haven’t been watching.”

Ren threw up her hands. “Okay, okay.” Fucking stalker. “After you decided to break your promise,” she was treading on thin ice here, but Ren could swim. Cold water wouldn’t shock her. “I decided to find my own way.”

The tentacles thrummed out in an undulating wave, springing from the Shamaness’s body like the sun’s rays. “I promised nothing.”

“You promised to help me find my friend once I ‘found what was lost.’” Ren said, air-quoting the last bit. “Pretty sure I found it.”

“Moira’s Rage?” the Shamaness barked a laugh. “You think I sent you into the Wilds to become a Scion?”

“No.” Ren snapped. “You sent me out there to die.”

The Shamaness clapped her hands together. “And you have proved invincible. Unfortunately, that is not why I’ve guided you here today, Outsider.” Egg-sized prayer beads clinked and rattled as the Shamaness flicked a careless glare toward Ren before giving Ren her back. “You’ve disobeyed me. The Air Scion cannot vouch for you—he tracked the Kirabo for your benefit. Yet,” the tentacles stretched. Dropping to the floor, they slipped across the thatch like spilled ink. Creeping toward Ren. “You found nothing. The Kirabo have vanished. Your friend,” Ren let heat build up inside her. She wouldn’t let the Shamaness take her by surprise again. Never again. “Your friend is most likely dead.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Oh, but I do.” The Shamaness wouldn’t look at her, but amusement tinkled in her voice. “They sacrifice on the full moon. Do you think your friend is important enough to be spared? Your other friend wasn’t. Ah, what was her name?”

Ren slowly shook her head. Took a step forward. Was the Shamaness baiting her?

“Outsider, what was her name?”

The tentacles danced. Sprung out toward Ren like the limbs of a spider. They scuttled up and down her arms. Where fire burned on her fingertips, the tentacles doused it with shadow. Swallowing her power, draining her dry. The crystal at her neck glowed blue. White. A strangulated whine scratched through Ren’s throat as the tentacles pulled her down, swiping her feet from under her. Her chin hit the ground first. Then her body. The Shamaness’s aura forced her forehead down.

What was her name? It wasn’t Ren’s voice. It was Itzel’s. Commandeering and infinite. Say her name. Say it!

“Itzel.” Ren gritted out. Her jaw worked against her. Her voice, her mind, her body. The shadow tentacles entered her, moving her arms and legs.

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