Witches, Wolves, & Warlords (Shifters of Bastion Keep #1)

Chapter One

"Any of them catch your eye?" Bruin asked his friend.

Rosemary peered at him from beneath her black lace veil. "There was an opening at a long term care facility, but nothing has truly spoken to me yet."

"We'll find someone."

Turning back to the room, Bruin took in the tide of sponsors. There were businessmen, magi, and representatives from assorted organizations, all here to sift through the latest crop of Journeyman-level magic users from the larger Chicago region.

Himself and Rosemary included, there were about two hundred mages, witches, druids, and willworkers of all stripes. There were plenty that he didn't recognize, ones who were either self-taught or had learned their craft through a traditional master-apprentice relationship and were just here for the professional connections. But most were fellow classmates who, like him, had taken part in a government-funded, multi-year program that functioned like communal apprenticeships.

The program came with a catch, though.

"You, there," a woman demanded, approaching him. She indicated the knotted red handkerchief on his arm which clashed obnoxiously with his woolen coat and dirt-stained green shirt. "What can you do?"

Bruin took one look at the starched business suit and the lanyard which read Madison Tech Innovations and quailed inside. He put on a dopey smile.

"How's that, ma'am? Well, I can do basic maths, and I know how to tie me some knots, real good-uns."

"I clearly mean your magic," she said primly. She paused to look at Rosemary, and Bruin saw her eyes rove up and down his best friend's impeccably chosen outfit, with dark-red corset, black lace, somber make-up that complemented her brown skin, and the long gloves. An innovative blend of Nu and romantic goth! Bruin noticed the recruiter scrunching her face as she turned away.

He felt like wanting to slam a protective charm down, but instead bit back his angry retort. There were higher paths one could take to reach the same result.

"Oh, well, shucks, ma'am," he said, jutting out his lower jaw, the better to display his tusks, courtesy of his orc heritage. "I can do things with dirt! I like digging. Do you like digging, ma'am? It's a lot of fun. Oh! And bugs. Just the other day, I caught me a big ol' beedle. I'll bet I still got it, never know when a charm might call for some good beedle guts!"

Bruin reached into the messenger bag he had slung around his shoulder, digging around in it, even lifting it up to bring it closer to the suit lady's face and pretending that he was trying to nab a skittery pest. "Don't worry, he won't bite you none, probably!"

"Dirt and bug magic, I see," she said, taking a step back. In response, Bruin took a large step closer. She stammered something about him probably not being a good fit at her company, and hurried away.

"That was impolite of you," Rosemary said, then reached a hand out and laid a finger on his arm by way of thanks. "But also just, considering her behavior."

"Well, she gave you the stink eye! Of course I wasn't going to let that stand. Besides, she's right, I wouldn't be a good fit in some lifeless office that probably has a stupid dress code."

"You also can't keep finding excuses to turn them away." She nodded to his red kerchief. She had a matching one on her own arm, indicating that they each owed three years of public service for accepting the "free" room, board, and tuition. It was still a good deal, since Bruin would never have been able to afford magical training otherwise, not without mooching off of his parents or else joining the military.

"But they're all so terrible," he whined, then began counting on his fingers. "A janitor who spiritually sterilizes the same room ten times a day. A law firm wanting someone to help maintain privacy and truth wards. And then a hedge fund? I don't even know what they would want, but probably something stilted and boring."

"Daily luck rituals, I would imagine," Rosemary offered. "They wouldn't work, of course, but it would be a comfortable routine."

"I don't want comfortable, or routine," he said, crossing his arms. He watched as the Malibu Tech Whatever lady began an earnest conversation with Bombay, a runic mage dressed in smart attire that Bruin had shared an Applied Bio-arcanum class with. They looked to be getting along.

"I don't think you know what you want," his friend said. "Come."

Rosemary picked up her own witch's bag—an easy way to tell who in the room were traditional willworkers and who were your modern mages was to see if they had a bag, because witches and druids tended to collect the most esoteric items. And Bruin would be damned if he ever carried less than at least a handful of plants or gemstones!

Rosemary moved behind one of the large pillars in the convention hall, effectively hiding them from the sight of the sharks that were out hunting, each one promising three years of a slow and horrible mind death.

"Can't we just stay here?"

"You'd be better off trying instead to get multiple offers from sponsors so you at least have some choice, unless you want to be stuck with whoever's left at the end. I hear that state bureaucrats are always hiring. Now shush." With an adroit twist of her bag's skull clasp, she reached inside of it and withdrew a velvet drawstring bag that was embroidered with glyphs. Bruin raised an eyebrow as she took out her hand-painted Tarot cards, but she'd told him to be quiet, so he did.

"Allow me to give you a read," she said, shuffling the cards nimbly with the whisk whisk sound of cards against evening gloves. "Perhaps a bit of clarity would help you overcome this ill state of mind you have found yourself in. Cut."

Making sure he hadn't gotten any actual dirt on his hands from digging through his own bag, Bruin reached forward, cut the deck, then handed it back. She struck a centering pose, and he could feel through his toes the white light she was filling herself up with. After a deep exhalation and whispered words to herself about setting the intent, she lifted her chin towards him.

"We will do a three-card setting, Past, Present, and Future, as it relates to your current crisis."

"I wouldn't say crisis, just kind of oh my gods, you know?"

"Crisis," she reiterated smoothly. "First, your past. How did you arrive at this point? What strengths or characteristics bore you here?"

Bruin grabbed the top card, looked at it, then nodded to himself as he handed it over just the way it had been drawn. He'd seen it representing him quite a number of times before.

"Queen of Pentacles, upright." Rosemary took it between two extended fingers and laid it on her left arm, perfectly poised and stable as if it were steel. "You are a warm and generous person, and the wish to nurture others led you to complete your training and become a self-appointed Green witch. The earth queen is sensible, and not prone to rash action, such as reneging on deals. Good. Next, what obstacle is holding you back in the present?"

Bruin flipped over the next card and groaned.

Rosemary nodded, taking it and laying the card next to the first. "Eight of Cups, reversed. Fear of change, with the danger of stagnation."

"Rosemary, no, come on."

"Do you doubt the cards?"

Bruin sighed. "I guess not. I did like how the last few years have been, and I don't know if I'll like what's to come. I could always stay in the program another two years, get some advanced learning in."

"And you'd double your owed years of service, if so. But you won't."

"No," he grumped.

"Last card. How can you surmount this obstacle of fear?"

Bruin flipped it over and handed it to her without looking, lost in thought. Was he really that scared of what was to come?

"The Lovers," he heard her say, and he jerked his head up. "There are several possibilities here—"

"Like finding a sugar-daddy and running away from it all?"

"Probably not that," she said, her chubby cheeks dimpling. "Ahem.The Lovers mean passion, sometimes for people, sometimes for other kinds of connections, but at its core, in this place, I believe it means that there is an upcoming divergence in your life. A missable opportunity, that if you fail to take, could spell future unhappiness."

While Bruin dwelt on her words, Rosemary neatly gathered her deck up, whispered a release of intentions, and then secured it back in her bag.

"In other words," he said, "I should keep my eyes peeled, and be decisive. Thanks. Back to it, I guess."

Bruin led the way back around the pillar, and would have crashed into another person if that man hadn't been as nimble on his feet to side-step both Bruin and his ungainly attempts to catch his balance.

"Sorry, sorry." He looked up and wilted. "Oh. It's you."

It was Lux Manus, who had the personality and appearance of a lordly raven that had seen fit to take on human flesh. With his corkscrew curls framing his dark face, and zero percent body fat, and low-slung pants that showed off the ridges of his hips, Bruin would've called him gorgeous—and had, many times over—but he remembered that he wasn't speaking to him.

"Yes, it's me," Lux said. He lifted a perfectly manicured hand, indicating them. "Rosemary, you are as divinely dark as always, and your initiate name suits you. As for you…"

Lux's eyes looked him over, and the worst part was seeing the lack of any overt emotion at all. "I do not know the witch name you now go by, unless you kept your old name after initiation, perhaps?"

He shook his head. "Bruin."

"Bruin, then. You are looking… yourself."

"What did you pick for your name, then? I didn't catch it. I mean, you know, it never came up over the last few months." Bruin felt the glare Rosemary gave him at the half-lie, and he sighed. "At least not out loud, but I saw it written down, because you apparently got several awards for being so incredibly outstanding. Does your name rhyme with moose or fucks ?"

Lux didn't seem offended. "The latter. Now if I could beg a favor from two fellow witches, I have a sponsor that I need help demonstrating for."

Bruin was about to tell the raven lord exactly where he could stick his demonstration—and not up his ass, in case that's exactly what he needed them for; tantric magic was intoxicating , and Bruin didn't know if he'd be able to say no—but then he remembered the Tarot reading. Shit.

"Sure," he said through gritted teeth. "We'd be glad to help. What do you need us for?"

If Lux seemed surprised, he didn't show it, and instead gave a partial bow before leading them deep into the proverbial waters. "I've chosen a sponsor that I would fit well with, but he's being recalcitrant, and has already turned away more than a dozen hopefuls. He's just over here."

Lux danced around two oracles in conversation with a dwarven physician—Bruin offered the doctor his heartfelt apologies when he accidentally hit her with his bag—and stopped in front of a silver-haired man with a dubious slant to his gaze.He looked a bit as if a power-lifter had been left in the cold, age and frosty winds eating away at muscle and warmth, but was still solidly built. And Bruin couldn't find fault in his choice of attire, with his open shirt and red-and-gold patterned kilt, yum!

"You're back," the man said, uncrossing his arms and setting them on his hips. His beard bristled as he seemed to chew his words. "These are the two?"

Lux nodded, gesturing. "Yes, High Priest Roland. This is Rosemary and Bruin, and they're the best other witches that I know of for using coven magic. At least in this room, I should amend."

Bruin tried not to let the half-compliment go to his head, but the balloon had already slipped his grasp.

"Good," Roland said. "More than someone with power, I need those that are trained in teamwork, be they witch, druid, or mage. Show me that you can do group magic, Lux Manus, and I'll take you with me to Bastion."

Bruin's gaze darted over, and sure enough, he saw the gilded mark on the kilt's sporran. Bruin had heard that Bastion Keep sometimes came to recruit help from the area, and also rumors that it was one of the harder residencies you could get. Cold, snow, mountains, and a castle in the middle of nowhere with eccentric residents. Plus, the constant stress of spirit world invasions?

But hey! If Roland took Lux with him, that was for the best, right? Yeah, of course that was best.

Swallowing his mixed feelings, Bruin stepped forward to link hands in a circle with Rosemary and Lux, opening himself up to the light, and to each of the others.

"We'll do a simple charm," Lux said. "The Wayfarer's Blessing , and the dance version rather than the invocation. If you'll partner with me, Rosemary? And Bruin, a beat, if you have your mini djembe."

As Bruin and Rosemary divested themselves of bags and coats, he made sure to withdraw his palm-sized drum that of course he kept with him. Lux and Rosemary proceeded to hold their hands up in front of each other, close but not touching, and then the insufferable but still hot prick gave him a nod.

Tapping his heel in time, Bruin started a simple folk beat on the drum, and the other two joined in during the second measure. Keeping to the rhythm, Bruin watched them dance, their steps quick and sure.

The three of them were hardly the only ones demonstrating magical talents at the conference, but coven magic being used to cast a community blessing was more broadly noticeable, and they soon had a crowd. Some simply enjoyed the dance, others watched with a more critical eye, and Bruin realized that maybe he could come away with a sponsor offer or two. Heartened at the thought, he started focusing his white light better, and paying more attention to his playing.

They were nearing the end when movement caught his eye, and he noticed Roland step closer. The man raised a fist to his mouth and coughed, and there was an abrupt wind that lashed at them both physically and against the summoned energy. Rosemary missed a step, and in the process of recovering caused Lux to stumble. Bruin saw the blessing's energy start to unravel.

Hurrying to step forward, Bruin joined the others in the dance, still keeping the drumbeat with his hands. His hiking boots were clunky, and he couldn't do the arm motions while playing, but he brought stability with him, like training wheels on a bike, and it only took a few measures before Lux and Rosemary were able to adapt to a three-person dance and metaphorically lasso the charm's energy back in place. With a final stomp, Bruin ceased his playing, laying his hand up alongside the others, completing the ritual.

"Good job recovering despite the setback I introduced," Roland said, and though he was talking to Lux, he was looking at Bruin. " Now you have my attention.Tell me your names, disciplines, and expertises."

"Lux Manus, Celestial witch. Moon and Sun magic."

"Rosemary, Hearth witch. Augury and White magic."

"Bruin, Green witch. Healing, Earth, and Crystal magic."

Roland nodded in approval. "Lux Manus, you'll be joining me, then, as you requested. Rosemary and Bruin, you both have debts to pay, I see, and Bastion would have you, if you so choose. The only thing better than a single witch is a coven of them, and we could use the added help."

Bruin took a half-step back, alarmed. Go to Bastion, a thousand miles away from home, away from his family, and into possible danger? And also have to work alongside Lux? Surely he could find something better here, some kind of outdoor job, maybe. And he'd be leaving his best friend behind.

Except, as he turned to her, he saw her step beside Lux.

"Rosemary?"

"I believe I would find it satisfying," she said with a shrug, fingering her veil. "Or at least not dreadfully unbearable. Don't feel like you have to join us, though."

Wide-eyed, he looked to his friend, then spun around. Nearby, he saw the Marionette Testing Lab recruiter looking at him with more than a little interest, as if a second position at her facility had just opened up.

The Lovers. A decision. A missable opportunity.

Well… fuck me .

And that was how, two weeks later, after packing his tools and saying a tearful farewell to his parents and siblings and neighbors, he found himself sitting on a plane with his best friend and his ex, headed to Bastion Keep.