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Chapter Two

“How long did you keep him on Taberin after his transference?”

This voice, though strong and powerful, spoke with care. It echoed about and Quinn tightened his eyes as he was nearly pulled from his dreamless rest.

“I left immediately after, Great Elder.”

Terry’s voice rumbled against him and he turned toward it, finding comfort in something familiar. With a soft whimper, Quinn felt himself being pulled from her sweet-smelling warmth, only to be taken in a strong, careful grip beneath his arms.

“When exactly did he pass over?”

“Our Lord has been in his true form not even a full day, Elder Koshikal.”

Quinn blinked, giving up on sleeping with his nurse and this phantom voice speaking so loudly around him. His heart raced as he found an older man’s face inches from his own. Quinn was momentarily stunned by his appearance. Long chocolate hair fell around his shoulders, matching in length and luster a beard and mustache of the same color. Quinn’s breath hitched as he looked into the man’s bright orange eyes that were ringed with milky purple. Though the stranger smiled as soon as he looked at him, Quinn could not help struggling. He felt so peculiar. Why couldn’t he get away, fight, yell for help? Quinn stilled for a moment as the horrible dream he had had came back to him. His head snapped down, eyes set on proving himself wrong and finding his own gangly limbs and human body. What he found was grey fur mottled with charcoal spots, paws with hooked, obsidian claws. A high-pitched mew rang out into the large room. Quinn tried to snap his mouth shut, deny that the pitiful crying was coming from him, but it was no use. He was hysterical, bucking, clawing and meowing in the man’s hold.

Koshikal chuckled, easily keeping hold of the squirming kitten. Tangerine eyes settled on the elite Harvester before him, frowning at her words. “He has already grown so much since then, and his coloring has begun to change, no doubt.”

“Yes, Great Elder,” a smile spread across her lips. “He was a rather mousy fellow when he first passed over.”

“Well, let us just thank the gods that we have him back now.” Koshikal smiled, looking down at the cat before once again addressing Terry. “And his name is Quinn?”

Terry bowed her head, reverent as she answered. “Quinn Hastings, Great Elder.”

“On behalf of the all of Karrice, I wish to thank you, Harvester Terianu. You have done our world a great service and we will never forget that.”

Terry nodded, straightening her posture as the master of all the Elders in Karrice humbled himself before her, a mere servant to the throne. With one last scratch to one of Quinn’s twitching ears, Terry bowed. “I am yours to order around, Great Elder. I am happy to live for the kingdom,” she lifted her eyes to the terrified, confused kitten that was looking at her with large black eyes. “And I will die happily for King Hastings, One Hundred and Seventy-fifth heir to the Southern Kingdoms.”

Koshikal smiled, relieved that his master’s arrival was met with no mishaps. With a sigh he turned to make his way up to the alter. The easy part was over and now he just had to hope the kingdom would accept the form of their awaited ruler. He frowned as he felt the kitten shake harder in his hold and he cradled it close. Scared sounds escaped the animal and he sighed, stooping to place it on the floor.

“Here, My Lord, have something warm to eat. You are much too weak to be carrying on this way.”

In the back of his mind, Quinn was willing his body to make a run for it as soon as he was let go. He needed help. He had to get back home. What was going on with his family right now? His mother must be frantic with him not there. Images of his dead body flashed into his mind and Quinn collapsed on his already shaky legs. This wasn’t real. It wasn’t.

“Master, please.”

Quinn jumped, looking to the man now kneeling low before him. The stranger, Koshikal, pushed a small plate closer to him. Quinn tried to run but a large part of him felt pulled in by this strange being. No matter what had happened, he could not deny the sense of security he felt. With Terry he had felt safe, and now with the towering Koshikal on the floor before him did he once again feel safe. He tensed for a moment as fingers ran from his head down his spine, sinking into his fur.

“Please, My Lord, do not fear me. Out of everyone, I wish for you to never be afraid of me.”

Koshikal smiled as his lord, onyx eyes gazing up at him, began to relax. Quinn stumbled closer to the plate, sniffing at the soft, warm mix of smashed meat and vegetables before finally taking the first of many laps at it. He could not remember being so hungry. The warmth sank deep inside his bones, making his shakes subside at least a bit. When the hand came back he did not flinch, even leaning into the fingers scratching lightly at the base of his tail. The part of his brain that was still screaming to flee was growing quieter as the seconds ticked by.

“I know you have questions, My Lord, but calm yourself. This takes a little more time, and I, unfortunately, am not the one you will find answers in.”

Quinn lifted his head up, licking his lips as he looked at his kind host. Settling his paw on his knee earned him an excited smile and scratch to his ears. He did not have a voice or a body that was under his full control, but this man seemed to know his feelings just fine. Terry’s words, while they had not made sense to him earlier, were now sinking in. King Hastings? What the hell was going on? Before he could try for any more communication, there came the sound of doors opening and Koshikal stood and turned his back on him.

“You summoned me, Great Elder?”

Quinn stopped poking his cooling food at the sound of that voice. Deep and dry, it was a voice filled with boredom, secrets, and hidden warmth.

“Yes, thank you for traveling all this way, Sir Reiley. I hope I did not catch you at a busy time in your life.”

“Not at all, Great Elder. I’m bonded to the throne, the land, and my king. Your will is to be answered immediately.”

“Please rise.” There was soft humor in Koshikal’s tone, causing Quinn’s curiosity to ignite. “It is funny you put it that way.” His words only received a raised eyebrow for a reply. “In these cold years of absence, you and the other Knights of the Sacred South, along with other factions, have been doing the Temple’s bidding. The time has finally come for change.”

“Our King has passed over.” It was not a question.

Quinn could not take it any longer, growing impatient since Koshikal’s robes blocked his view. He needed to see! Staying close to his guardian, he peeked around his clothes. The stranger had stood when commanded but fell to his knee in a graceful motion when he noticed Quinn. There was no fear, not an ounce, as Quinn crept closer. Sir Reiley was not what he had expected from such a husky, hardened voice. Lemon-blonde hair fell in a messy, whispy curtain around his shoulders, framing a tanned face that was marred by a pale scar on his right cheek.

Heavy boots and beaten black leather pants were all he wore; his upper body protected only by a long black suede coat lined with fur. Quinn paused as he caught sight of a nasty scar in the middle of the knight’s chest. However, he came forward, closer to the large, calloused hand held out to him. He could not find it in himself to mistrust this man for even a second. It was the eyes, he would later blame. Surrounded by golden lashes so long that they curled, his eyes were the brightest green he had ever seen. They were hypnotic. Quinn had stared into those eyes completely mesmerized, not noticing when hands scooped him up and brought him level with Sir Reiley’s face. Quinn tried to grab a wayward strand of blonde hair, ignoring the chuckles he received from both men.

“Sir Merrick Reiley.”

Merrick’s small smile faded as Elder Koshikal’s voice broke him from his staring contest. He set the kitten down and followed Koshikal to the alter at his beckoning. The ancient shifter sprinkled ashes over him, anointed him in oil and placed a thick, polished gold band around his neck. It was a simple piece of jewelry, however, engraved in the center was an eight-pointed star filled with blood-red lacquer. The sign of the Sun-born; sign of the most important line of kings in the Southern Kingdoms.

“You have longed for this day, hm?” Koshikal smiled.

“Everything in my life has been to bring me here.”

Koshikal nodded, not knowing what to say to the knight. It was impossible to know if the dry tone was sincere. He turned away and when he faced Merrick again he had a glittering object in his hand. Without any prompting, Merrick unsheathed his sword and handed it over. Koshikal worked quickly, nimble fingers fitting the blood stone into the hilt of the sword before giving it back.

“A charm blessed by the Temple, though we have faith in you that you will not need such protection.”

“Thank you, Great Elder.” Merrick bowed his head, standing still as Koshikal traced his fingers along his new collar.

“Well over a decade you have been waiting for this day. More than anyone else, possibly, you have awaited our King’s arrival. You know what you are now, Protector Reiley. Your life is his life, your soul his to do with what he wishes. Protect him and teach him. Guide him however you can.”

Merrick bowed, face set in stern determination. “Of course, Great Elder. Everything I am is for His Majesty. I will not let him down; I swear my life on it.” He stood to find Koshikal smiling at him.

“Very good, Protector. I am sure you have noticed how large the newborn kit is already. He is nearly ready to take on his duties. I suspect another two days, three at most. When he is acquainted with everything, bring him back to the temple.”

“Yes, Great Elder.”

“The time of Awakening is upon us all, and the arrival of our blessed king is a sure sign of it beginning. Make sure His Majesty grows comfortable with his life.”

Merrick knelt to scoop up his charge once again after Koshikal dismissed him. Black eyes cracked open a moment to look at him before falling closed to sleep. Pushing the heavy temple doors open, Merrick cringed at the biting wind that met him. He pulled the kitten closer, putting him inside his coat. The steady beat against his own heart had a smile crawling over his lips as he climbed on top of his war horse. By tomorrow afternoon His Majesty would be too big to fit against his chest.

With a whistle his horse began its long ride back to Crystal Vein Castle. The journey would take three days. At the sight of swelling black storm clouds, Merrick pushed his mount to go faster. The sooner they were within the safety of His Majesty’s lands the better.

Furry heat shifted against his skin and Merrick smiled, opening his coat to look inside. Shining eyes looked up at him and he could not resist running his fingers beneath his king’s chin. The coming times would be trying, especially after the Ten Lands learned the next Southern King had been found. Merrick was ready for it all. He bent his head down to whisper in his coat before letting the kitten alone.

“Welcome home, Quinn.”

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