Tashama (The Magic of Inherian #4)

Chapter 1

Tashama’s stomach roiled with upset. She knew she had to return to her time and place, but she was happy here in Dallas, Texas.

Could she really make a difference in her world?

Her guardian, Balthazar, the sorcerer of her royal house, believed it was so.

He had two goals—return her safely to her home and help restore her to power so she could bring peace to the region.

She’d been away for years. Everyone believed she was dead. How could she, at twenty-three, return and take over? She thought the notion ludicrous. No amount of entreaty would change his mind, though she’d tried. He was too powerful, too all-knowing. She would do as he bade.

“Can you feel the air pressure changing, Tashama?” Balthazar asked, his electric blue eyes studying her with concern.

“Yes, a storm is approaching. But you’re changing the subject.”

He tilted his chin down, giving her one of his annoyed teacher-to-pupil looks.

She glanced out the kitchen window and saw nothing but the cornfields bent over in the West Texas breeze.

He had saved her life, then closely guarded her in this new world to keep her safe.

Which meant he hadn’t allowed her any associations with the male populace, making her rebel for years.

Today, as much as she didn’t want to return to her medieval world of Karthland, it was her duty to set things right, to find her mate, and rule in her parents’ place.

But she had finally adjusted to this world and all its amenities. And no one even knew she existed any longer. Who would care if she returned to Karthland? Worse, she knew how dangerous it would be.

Someone had wanted her dead before. How would that have changed? It wouldn’t have. Not when those same powers learned she had returned.

Balthazar’s beard, like white cotton candy, draped over her tiled countertop while he concentrated on a banana.

Watching his bony fingers strip the green peel from the still-hard fruit, she realized then he would never taste another morsel like that again.

She knew, too, she wasn’t ready—not for the move she would soon have to make from Texas to a world she barely remembered—not now—not ever.

“We’re in for stormy weather.” She shook her head at him. “The banana isn’t ripe yet.”

Balthazar leaned over and sniffed the banana. “Smells just right to me.” He bit into the firm fruit.

“Too hard, isn’t it?”

His whiskers curled up slightly.

She stuck a coffee cup into the dishwasher. “I don’t want to go back.”

“You have no choice, Tashama. I’ve told you all along—”

“I know—I know.” She mouthed the words softly.

Leaning her chin in her hands, she rested her elbows on the counter.

“I didn’t think I would ever get used to this strange world when I first arrived—what, ten years ago when I was thirteen?

” She threw her hands up in the air. “But now, well, it’s different. I don’t want to go back.”

A sense of disquiet nudged at her. She hated to leave her friends and the new-fangled toys she enjoyed here to return to a place so foreign to her. She only vaguely remembered the screams of terror in the palace before Balthazar took her away, never again to see her parents alive.

Her computer screen, sitting in the breakfast nook, turned black, then mesmerizing zigzags of color burst across the monitor. She sighed deeply. “No television, computers, internet, or cell phones. And what of old Bessy?”

“Bessy?”

“My Pontiac Grand Am.”

He shook his head. “You’ve taken riding lessons for years. That’ll be all you need when you return.”

“There’s no Thanksgiving, Christmas, or Easter. No Veteran’s Day Parades or Columbus Day holidays.”

“They celebrate their own holidays. You must remember.”

“I barely remember anything about…” Home, she almost said out loud. But I have lived here nearly as long as I have lived there. So, where is home really anymore?

“There, Tashama.”

“They don’t have bananas there.”

Balthazar’s now pale blue eyes twinkled in the bright kitchen light.

She took a deep breath. “Are you certain that in ten years they have not made any progress—”

“The war drags on there, Tashama. You’re twenty-three now. Not only must you lead your people to victory, but your mate awaits you.”

“There are many here that please me.”

Balthazar’s eyes, now the color of the cloudless sky, slimmed as his pale, thin lips turned down in a scowl.

Tashama sighed, hating that she’d have to return to her medieval society, knowing whoever murdered her parents would still want her dead, too.

“All right, so I cannot stay. But I don’t want to go back. ”

Suddenly, she had a fond memory of there. “Oh, I remember visiting Princess Talamaya, and her lady companions, Lady Kersta and Mexia of the Kingdom of…”

“Damar. Aye, before things went wrong and I had to take you away.”

“I must see them again.”

“You will.”

She tore off a paper towel, wetted it, then dabbed orange-scented soap on the cloth. She took a deep breath, then leaned over and wiped the counter, her braided hair wiggling down her back.

A strand of hair slipped from her woven tresses, then tickled her cheek.

She reached her finger to twist it. She studied the golden hue of the strand of hair in the glassy reflection of the tile.

“You were supposed to teach me about Karthland. Why do we have to return there first, before you tell me—”

“Seeing your home will help you to remember.” Balthazar fingered his banana peel, then sighed deeply. “Well, what do you remember?”

She’d blocked most of it from her mind when the killing had begun, and once they’d first arrived in this new world, she’d been nearly impossible to live with—for a good year, Balthazar had said.

She wrinkled her brow and leaned against the counter, pressing her mind to recall what she’d so often tried to forget.

“Sand, the color of fresh snow, slipped between my toes in gritty granules while small, clawed crabs ducked into holes.”

His brows tilted up in surprise. “Yes, go on.”

“Thunderous waves crashed along the shore, dragging sand, seashells, and me along with it into the surf, then spat me out again upon the beach.”

Balthazar’s lips turned up slightly.

Twisting her mouth, she thought for a moment, then raised her finger in the air. “And a silver cart lifted me into the blackness dotted with shimmering, sparkling stars. Twisting and turning, it catapulted me through the heavens.”

Shaking his head, he frowned at her. “You’re remembering our trip to the Florida seacoast and Disney World.”

“Oh.” She stared at the countertop, then she smiled.

“Yes, and the children thought you were Merlin because you wouldn’t wear blue jeans like the rest of the people of this world.

” She walked over to Balthazar and ran her hand over the velvet sleeve of his robe.

The purple fabric lightened. Smoothing it the opposite way, it darkened.

“And at the Scarborough Renaissance Faire, too. I thought you were going to hold a sorcerer’s convention the way the sorcerer-costumed folks flocked to you. ”

“They were spellbound.”

“I couldn’t believe you would cast spells there…

a few fireworks, colored mists, a dragon illusion.

If I didn’t know any better, I would say you’d been drinking too much wine.

Nobody even wanted to watch the tournament between the black and white knights.

I think old faux King Henry VIII was a bit miffed. ”

Pearl white teeth glistened in a bed of whiskers. “Bit of fun.” He waggled his snow-white eyebrows.

She laughed, then grew serious. “I remember caves dripping with groundwater. Spikes of rock reached up to the ceiling, while their mates reached down to them. Sometimes these would couple, forming narrow columns.”

“The caves at Silver Dollar City.”

“Oh.” She rubbed her hands together. “They sparkled so with green gems—”

Straightening, Balthazar twisted his head slightly to observe her. “The emerald caves. Yes, yes, go on.”

“Dwarves, short and stocky, mined the emeralds. They were a grouchy lot. Made Father pay to use the passage, though he bought emeralds from them.”

“Where did you go after you walked out of the caves?”

“Ram…Ram…” She shook her head.

“Ramoria.”

“Yes, where the Elorian elves lived.” Taking a deep breath, she stared at the adobe-tiled floor. “Their ears pointed to a peak, like the mountains that ring the area.”

“You remember.”

“They thought me funny because I wanted to see their ears. They are not all alike, you know.” She remembered. Not all, but bits and pieces like a shredded map finally taped together, only in places parts of it were still missing.

“No, just like us.”

“I remember your chambers and the teaching rug.” The sorcerer’s room had smelled like mint and thyme, cinnamon and peaches, pleasant and welcoming. The sun’s rays seemed to warm the room in a wash of golden light even on cold, gray days.

“Yes, while I served your father and mother, you learned your spells through my image there.”

“And Loralee. I was teaching her a new trick when—”

“You were late for dinner.”

Tashama nodded, and tears filled her eyes. Her pet dragon. Never would she see her again. Nor her family. “You came for me and took me away.”

“You do realize, returning home will be fraught with danger?” His dark voice was touched with concern.

She turned her eyes up to gaze upon him. Her teacher, her steadfast companion, her protector. “We have to find the murderers and deal with them.”

“You have an inner strength, Tashama, that will get you through. Always remember that.”

“But you will be with me?” Panic tugged at her heart. “You won’t desert me?” She couldn’t imagine finding her killers and taking her place as leader of her people without her loyal advisor at her side. He was the only one she could trust with her life.

He inclined his head. “I’ve been your guardian all these many years. I’ll remain your advisor ‘til the end of your rule.”

Returning to rule over her homelands appealed, but what would she find when she returned?

An unending war between Karthland and her neighbors, the Maldovians?

But worse, who were the assassins? And what about the man she was to wed?

She ran her finger in a circle on the counter.

“Why do I have these dreams of him?” Tashama looked up at Balthazar.

“What dreams are those, Princess?”

Tashama exhaled her breath, exasperated. “You know very well what dreams these are.” She settled on the barstool across the counter from Balthazar and studied her long, pearl-polished nails resting on the tile top.

“He’s a handsome devil of a man with hair as brown as dark chocolate, hanging in thick waves over his broad, bare shoulders.

His equally rich brown eyes sparkle with flecks of amber, but seem haunted at times.

He’s as tall as you, too. Well, maybe an inch taller.

I swear he looks like a sexy version of Hercules without the beard, smooth-faced, square-jawed, chiseled features… a gift from the gods.”

She looked up and stared right through Balthazar. “He stands nearly a foot taller than me, waiting to see what I’ll do. His eyes consider my lips, and I know he wants to touch them with his own.”

Just as much as she wanted his mouth pressed firmly against hers, to have his fingers touch every inch of her skin, to caress her breasts, to roam lower and ease the ache that had already returned between her legs. Just thinking of the dream…

Her eyes gazed at the counter. “His mouth parts slightly as if to speak, but no words ever pass his lips. His gaze locks onto mine as if he’s tied to me in some inexplicable way. Then the faintest of smiles brightens his golden complexion, but in the next instance, he vanishes from my sight.”

Night after night, she wanted to be swept into his arms and vanish with him, but she couldn’t follow where he must go.

“You’re twenty-three, Tashama. That’s why you have these dreams. Your soul aches for a mate.”

“Is he the one then?” She shook her head as if to answer her own question. “He cannot be. He’s not one of ours…too dark, too dangerous.”

“We must go,” Balthazar said, though he spoke no word, and she nodded in silent agreement.

She took a deep breath and reached her hand out to him.

She’d already told her girlfriends she would be leaving for Europe and wouldn’t be able to return.

Balthazar had never permitted her to have male friends, though she’d fought him over it for years.

Now she was glad she hadn’t found someone she truly loved, because she could never have taken him to her homeland when she had to return.

Balthazar’s white brows knitted together, and he turned his head toward the north. “What’s that sound I hear—like the gallop of 10,000 horses in battle?”

Tashama listened. “The ice maker just dumped some more ice into the—”

“No, listen.”

She hurried over to the kitchen window and peered out.

Boiling green clouds rolled toward them, darkening the sky.

Lightning struck the plowed-under cornfields in jagged spears while their voices boomed with thunderous discontent.

A blue sheet of rain grew closer, hiding the menace behind it.

Taking a deep breath, she sensed the storm’s power.

She rubbed her forehead and concentrated on the front. “A blue norther.”

The rain suddenly ceased as if a waterfall had been cut off at its source. Blackbirds caught up in the wind flew in odd patterns.

“What’s wrong with the birds?” Without waiting for Balthazar to answer, her heart picked up its pace. “They have no voice…they’re not birds, but…remnants of a farmer’s barn.”

The rotating transparent cloud of mist transformed into a solid brown mass and raced across the plowed fields. She gasped. The swirling funnel appeared like the star of the storm, ripping cottonwoods from their homes where for years they had divided the farmers’ fields.

“It’s…it’s heading this way!” She ran to Balthazar and shoved her finger out to him, urging him to transport her to their world using his magic. “Hurry! We must go…now!”

“Your clothes! You must change them at once!”

“There’s no time!” she shouted. The roar of the freight train grew closer as Balthazar touched the shimmering light from his finger to hers. The light pricked her skin. The glass from the kitchen window shattered in an explosive crash.

“Balthazar!” she screamed, her heart hammering when the high wind slammed into them, breaking the spell that he attempted to cast, ripping them apart.

Instantly, sharp pain swept through her head, and a quiet blackness swallowed her whole.