Chapter One
Restless waves attacked the shoreline as though they meant to drag Bealtaine Island, in the Canadian San Juan Islands, farther out to sea.
The roar of the ocean’s despair was swallowed by an icy breeze.
As though searching for a target, the winds wove through the hastily constructed smoke-gray, ash and charcoal colored tents erected for the Wizard’s Fertility Festival.
The wind paused, then sped up the hillside toward the only permanent structure on the island: the replica of an eighteenth-century German castle, where it blew against the building’s walls as though it meant to tear it down stone by stone.
Then, as though fulfilling its intention all along, it awoke Morgan from her sleep in one of the castle’s ground floor chambers.
“I hear you,” Morgan said as she threw off the covers, eased away from the current lover she had taken to her bed and rushed to the window.
She pressed her hand against the leaded glass panes as she observed the path of the wind and sent a telepathic message of thanks to the Air Wizard who had sent the storm.
He was letting her know that the Air Wizards remained secret allies of her and her sister Water Wizards.
But she and her sister Wizards didn’t need gestures. They needed action.
A knock on Morgan’s bedroom door thundered over the roar of the waves and the howl of the wind.
A healer, with power over water, Morgan was next in line to hold the position of priestess, a position she did not want.
She did more than most already and even now had planned a small rebellion of sorts.
But she knew the one who knocked demanded more.
Morgan touched her lover’s forehead, assuring he would continue in a restful sleep, and retrieved her silk robe from the bed as Caitlin, leader of the female Wizards and head priestess, entered Morgan’s chamber.
“I will not be part of your rebellion.” Morgan slipped on the robe, cinching it tight, knowing the question Caitlin would ask.
Over the years, Morgan had given all she had, and lost her heart in the process, to help save the few Wizards she could without drawing undue attention. To rescue the numbers Caitlin asked of her would expose them all and risk further deaths.
Morgan sank in front of her dressing table, crowded with lotions and bottles of lavender and rose water, while her friend stared out the open window.
A floatplane, flying from the direction of Seattle, battled the storm as it circled over the harbor.
Even from this distance she could sense that its occupants included a Troll and an Earth Wizard, but it was the pilot who drew her attention.
Her hand trembled as she reached for a brush and then changed her mind and set it back down.
She had hoped, nay prayed, that she would never again see the Fire Wizard who had broken her heart.
The shock turned to fury as the water in the bottles overflowed, as unrelenting as her memories…
memories of laughter-filled days, passionate nights, and then the dawn of heartbreak and betrayal.
Her voice rising over the beat of her heart, Morgan pulled Caitlin’s gaze toward her.
“How could you? You arranged for Rowan to meet with the leader of the Grey Council on the island during Bealtaine, when you knew we shared a past? A risky move! What if either one of them had realized it was you who cast a spell to bring them together?”
Caitlin’s voice remained calm. “You and I would die. High reward requires an even higher risk. If we are to succeed, we need Rowan on the island where he can be contained and controlled.”
“I have told you before, I want no part of your plan. It is madness to believe that you can kidnap the scores of young Wizards on the island. We might manage a few, but fifty?”
“We do not have a choice. Their training becomes more dangerous with each year that passes. Of the thirty Wizardlings between the ages of eight and sixteen that began training on Dragon Mountain last year, only five survived. Rowan’s duty is to the Grey Council and the Talons.
If he suspects our plan, he will move heaven and earth to stop us.
You are the key. You must choose him during the Bealtaine Fertility Festival and then be-spell him.
With the Wizards in a spell-induced sleep, we will take a few of the young Wizards to safety each night. ”
Morgan heard the moment Rowan’s plane landed. Could she separate duty from painful memories and the ever-present ache in her heart? She concentrated on her surroundings to help focus her thoughts.
Candelabras lit the room, and a milk-white glow settled over the chamber like a shroud.
The oval mirror in front of her was framed in antique sterling silver and encrusted with amethysts and diamonds.
The beauty only made her feel more isolated, more alone.
Her vibrant features looked pale, reflecting the veil-like quality of the room as though she looked at herself through a lens coated in pearl dust.
At thirty-five, she’d lived a longer life than most female Water Wizards.
She should be grateful. Instead, she felt suffocated.
A building resentment, viewed as traitorous by the Talons and Grey Council, brewed beneath the surface.
What if Caitlin and her conspiracy theories were right?
Caitlin believed that the untimely deaths were not accidental.
Reaching for the bracelets she would wear to the opening ceremonies, Morgan swallowed down the dark foreboding that had haunted her since she’d arrived on this island in the Canadian San Juans a week ago.
Choosing emeralds to match her gown and rose quartz to enhance passion, she shoved the bracelets over her wrists.
The cool stones only increased her apprehensions.
“Why don’t you wear the jewelry your mother gave you?” Caitlin said, selecting a bracelet made from green Connemara marble. “There is strong magic in these stones.”
Morgan snatched it from her friend and tossed it into a top drawer, glancing at Caitlin’s reflection.
Her features were crisp and clear. Waves of dark hair crested over the sapphire-blue cape she wore and framed a confident expression.
Why did Caitlin keep insisting she needed Morgan’s help?
Caitlin had all the qualities necessary to lead a rebellion, not her.
Morgan took a deep breath. “Why is the head of the female Wizards wasting her time with me? You should be preparing for Bealtaine.”
Caitlin motioned toward the open drawer which contained a leather-bound journal. “You must select Rowan. I’ve heard he will attend Bealtaine, and you are the only one strong enough to contain him.”
Morgan glanced toward the journal resting beside her mother’s bracelet, the journal where she had poured out her heart.
Rowan was a powerful Fire Wizard, and the father of her child.
He was respected. Honored. Feared. He didn’t know he’d fathered their son.
The law was as old as time, and she had honored its teachings.
Male Wizards were not to know the identity of their children.
A male Wizard’s only allegiance was to the Grey Council and the Talons.
Despite the law, she still regretted not telling him.
“I can’t…”
Caitlin rested her hand on Morgan’s shoulder. “You must. Our sisters are dying.”
Morgan shrugged away from Caitlin and fastened a bracelet made from freshwater pearls.
“When the Grey Council takes our boys to foster when they are four or five and our girls after the start of their first flow, the pain is unbearable. Our hearts simply cease to beat. I told you before. I am too old for your rebellion.”
“Some say the older a female Wizard grows, the more wise and powerful she becomes.”
“Myth.”
“Or a truth,” Caitlin said, “suppressed by those who fear our potential. Female Water Wizards thrive on change, abundance, and laughter. We are fluid, adventurous, and as free-flowing as a mountain-fed stream. We also have great power. Have you forgotten the children’s poem?
Starve the fire and burn the wind. Steal the earth and boil the seas.
Ashes, Ashes, they all fall down. It was thought inspired by the Black Death in Europe and considered a cautionary tale.
We are stronger if we work together. Separated, we fail. ”
Morgan spun to face Caitlin. “It is too late for children’s poems. We have already failed. I reject your description of our power. We are not fluid. We are stagnating, dying, relics of the past.”
Caitlin motioned over her shoulder. “Is that why you have taken this human male to your bed? You want to feel alive again?”
“A distraction.”
“A rebellion. Wizards are forbidden to join with humans. More to the point, does your human realize he is only a distraction? That you are using him to forget…”
“You go too far,” Morgan interrupted, hands clenched.
“Such passion,” Caitlin said, but her voice was as cold as ice.
“It is about time it resurfaced. The Talons and the Grey Council set boundaries around us in the name of protection. Instead of prolonging our lives, they grow shorter with each generation. Do you really believe it is a coincidence we die so young while they live on and on and…”
Morgan stood, toppling over her chair as she headed toward the French doors on the opposite side of the room.
She threw the doors open, exposing an inner courtyard that this time of year should have been bursting with signs of spring.
But the cherry trees were bare, and the gardens were dry and cracked.
Drought and the lack of sun had delayed the season. Again.
Two young female Wizardlings, Anne and Deidre, five and eight years old, played along the garden path.
As part of their gift as Water Wizards, they sensed that the gardens needed water and had created tiny rivulets of rivers and ponds where they played with their small boats and tiny figurines.
The streams pushed and shoved their way through the dry earth, dissolving and reshaping as they gained momentum and strength.
The sight only darkened Morgan’s mood. There was a time when she was like those young girls.
No worries. No cares. Full of hope and possibility.
Morgan felt as though her heart had stopped beating.
Her son was about the same age as the younger of the two Wizardlings when he had been taken from her.
She pressed against her chest with one hand and held onto the railing with the other as thoughts of her son crashed against her.
It was tradition for children of high-ranking female Wizards to be taken from their mothers and fostered.
There was not a day that went by that she did not think of him.
She wanted to believe that he was well cared for by the leadership. But what if that were not true?
She rubbed her temples, and when Caitlin joined her, Morgan pressed harder, moving near the railing.
Her headaches had grown more frequent of late.
Headaches were the first indication that a female Water Wizard’s time on this earth neared its end.
Most looked forward to the ten days of festivals leading up to Bealtaine on the first day of May.
She alternated between dread and fear. “Leave me alone. I grow weary of your threats of impending doom.”
“I do not warn of a possible threat, but one that is already upon us. We’ve learned that the human leadership, who still call themselves the Talons, have formed an unholy alliance with the Grey Council.
I’m not sure how the Talons managed it, but they convinced our leadership to turn over the training of our Wizardlings to them. ”
Morgan’s temper simmered beneath the surface as she watched the young Wizardlings in the garden, laughing and playing as though the world was a safe place.
In the beginning times, after a millennium of wars between humans and the magical community, a truce had been formed in the hope of achieving a lasting peace.
Humans chose the name Talons, after the name of one of their founding leaders.
But until recently, there had been a clear separation of powers.
She turned on Caitlin. “Humans training Wizards violates our laws.”
“As does murdering female Wizards before their time.”
“Caitlin, please. That is but a conspiracy. I am not convinced it is true.”
“As the Latin proverb states, forewarned is forearmed.” Caitlin nodded toward the children.
“A few of us intend to take them from the island as soon as the festival is under way. All we ask is that you and those who remain keep the men distracted. If we fail, Anne and Deidre will need you. They all will.”
“They will have to rely on someone else.”
“There won’t be anyone else.”