The Warrior: The Genoa Chronicles, #2

By JJ Anders

Dragon-warrior, Té has spent her life hiding from the power-hungry king. Raised by her wizard in the native ways of warrior combat and dragon riding, Té must now put her skills to the test, joining forces with Kriston to protect Anna as they travel to the safety of Valorna where the queen awaits their arrival.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Grayton Press
• Release date: Dec 18, 2019
• ISBN: 9781942896913

JJ Anders

JJ Anders is the pseudonym used by the powerhouse writing duo of NY Times & USA Today bestselling author, Jill Sanders and her identical twin sister, Jody Luft. Hailing from the Pacific Northwest, these two talented ladies have merged their creative forces to craft an amazing new fantasy series that will leave you begging for more. With over fifty bestselling romance books and counting, Jill alone is a force to be reckoned with, boasting thousands of glowing reviews with a cumulative 4.5 star rating. Jody’s powerful imagination and newfound love of writing has spawned the thrilling new world and enchanting characters of Genoa. As a furious reader and devoted mother, Jody’s passion for storytelling reaches full bloom by teaming up with her talented twin to bring her magical stories to life for the enjoyment of readers everywhere.

Book preview

1

The queen’s orders

The cloaked figure moved slowly into the darkness, taking only what was needed with him out of the vast castle when the night was fullest and all who lived there slept peacefully.

He moved quickly from one shadow to the next. If he was spotted tonight, he hoped his dark cloak would mask his identity. If that didn’t work, his magic would help him out.

Tonight, while the moons moved slowly overhead in the star littered sky and the smell of rain still lingered in the air, he would call upon magic in hopes he would obtain the answers he had been searching for.

Taking the small, well beaten path that twisted beyond the docks, he moved into the thick forest beyond. Shadows caused by the moon’s light crept through the trees and casts wild patterns on the soft pine needles that lay about the ground.

He slowed only when his footing became questionable. His tired eyes were not what they had once been, but the light from two of the moons that watched over Genoa, Lazerith, and Blinske, lit the pathway, showing him that the trail divided ahead.

One path moved along the large lake whose lapping waters reflected the stars and moons. The other less traveled trail tracked up into the small hills that surrounded the land he had lived in for the past several seasons. Rocks and tough grass grew along the passage, leaving any traveler who would walk there concerned for their steps, even in the daylight.

Without hesitation, he took the lower pathway and after several paces stopped to glance around to confirm that he was indeed alone. It would not do to have any witnesses who may report to the wrong people.

His long white beard, which hung out the front of his cloak, swayed gently in the night’s breeze. Both his beard and hair, now pure white with age, was long. Once they had been blond with hints of the sun and had a slight curl. Now, his hair was tied back with a soft leather strap but strands close to his face fell loose. His beard hung free, splattered here and there with rice and dry bread from his evening meal.

He was grateful the weather was still warm during the nights. The harvest season was not yet upon them but his old bones felt the cold season coming. The smell of crisp leaves reminded him of his younger days during the harvest season.

He continued moving, his long black robe dragging along the dry dirt path. He felt his way to the water’s edge and walked until he located the right place. Using his magic, he reached out to confirm his suspicions.

He was right where he needed to be.

Setting his small bag of tools down, he moved gently to the ground. His knees gave him trouble as he settled his old body into a comfortable position.

He took out a small metal spade with an old wooden handle made from a very rare tree. This tool represented the respect that must be made for the home they lived on. Next, he took out a pinwheel, a simple child’s toy with brightly colored blades, to represent the air needed for life.

Finally, he removed a cup made from gold and woven with a small amount of magic in its handle that made it shine in the darkness. This was for possibilities. He set all these items in front of him in the dirt.

Glancing skyward, he took a deep breath of the night air and then raised his arms high.

I call upon the dirt on which I sit, he started, the air from which I breathe, the possibilities of life, and the magic which I was given. Feeling a small tickle at the base of his stomach, he opened his eyes and quickly glanced down at the items at his knees.

Taking another deep breath, he started chanting again, this time keeping his magic in check and his eyes open. He was halfway through his chant when the ground started to move.

When a rock lifted out of the dirt by the spade, pleasure filled his heart, and he paused the chant for a moment. Then he continued from the beginning, quickly to ensure the magic would continue without interruption.

When the air started to swirl about, he did not falter this time and was prepared when the cup filled with crystal clear water.

Surrounding the objects with his magic, he placed one hand gently on the rock while he lifted the cup and took a tentative sip.

The liquid was smooth and cool and tasted like spring flowers. It felt like heaven going down his dry throat. A smile formed on his lips, as the taste reminded him of past feelings of joy and love.

Here, right here, was pleasure and purity in the cool and clean water.

What brings you to me this night, servant? came a gentle voice. Though he couldn’t tell if it came from the lake, the sky, or his mind, it did not matter, since he knew who had spoken.

Mother, the old man whispered, I seek to help you.

Ask your question, came the reply.

He had thought long and hard about what he should ask yet no answer had come to him. Tonight he voiced the only one that seemed urgent. What is needed to succeed in our task?

Witness and understand. The ground shook around the wizard, yet the waters of the lake were not disturbed.

The ground between him and the lake quaked, and dirt and rocks flew out from the center of the disturbance and showered him with small pieces of dirt.

From the core of the disturbance, an item rose into the air, a glowing white moon stone, perfectly round in its shape, its surface smooth as a river stone.

He had never seen such a perfect stone or heard of one existing. Usually, they were burned and misshapen from the long drop from the sky and no larger than a thumbnail. He was marveling at its beauty when the ground gave another heave.

This time, a long branch rose from the ground, turning about until its tip reached the stone. The branch split and twisted into four delicate fingers that secured the stone in its grasp.

Next came a vein of magic, lifting from the dirt like a snake, its orange color glowed brightly. The old man had never seen such pure magic before in all his seasons. The vein rose and twisted itself around the branch until it reached the stone. A staff began to form in front of his old eyes.

Fourth came a shining stream of gold. It too twisted and wrapped about the staff in a delicate spiral. It was followed by a white vein of steel.

When the steel had settled itself around the previous items, the wizard marveled at the beauty of the newly formed staff.

Its form was strong yet delicate. The moon stone shone from the top, entwined by the elements that Genoa had provided.

I see and understand, he responded.

Go. All are needed. The voice carried on the wind. With this, the staff fell at the feet of Wizard Cenzic of Valorna.

Wizard Leian had spent much of his adult life in the wizards training town of Tharian, making him feel as if he was a knowledgeable man. He’d been schooled in the ways of being a wizard and had explored the known corners of his home planet, learning much of Genoa’s races.

He knew several of the troll languages, had visited the sprites who lived in the far south and was well known to the river tribes of pixies.

However, even with his twenty seasons on Genoa and all his training and background, he stood amazed at the wonders and strength of Genoa’s creatures.

He was deep within the hiding place of the resistance, well concealed in the cliffs beyond Matera’s borders, hidden underground in the Cave of Abound. The vast cavern was six times the size of any castle he had ever visited and larger than most villages. The walls were multi leveled and several homes made of wood or stone sat at each plain, smoke billowed from their chimney stacks to keep the cold and moisture from seeping into the living areas.

Leian was nestled warm and dry in the home of Dryna and Hurra, who led the free people’s resistance against the evil King Gillard Haddock.

Leian was safe from King Gillard and his secret guards, who had imprisoned him days before. He was still weak from his time in the cell where the king had drained all the magic from his body. It would take days if not weeks for his magic to return to full power. His thin frame had been nourished by the local healer, and he had been provided fresh clothing and a new hat, yet he still felt scruffy.

He had noticed that his blonde hair was longer as he’d brushed it back away from his face. His face looked older than before, yet some would call it more handsome now that it showed the owner’s true age.

He had been relieved when he had been provided a razor to shave the stubble from his thin chin. He was a little disappointed he couldn’t grow a full beard like so many other wizards, but even a full beard wouldn’t have hidden the weight loss he had undergone in the last few days. His blue eyes were no longer bright and full of laughter. They now sunk into his head, leaving his broad forehead to appear larger than normal.

After shaving his face that morning, he had studied his reflection in the small mirror. He wondered if his capture or the loss of his magic had caused him to look so skeletal.

Leian didn’t understand how the loss of his magic was possible and hoped to comprehend more about what had happened to him. But for now, the king had to be stopped before he got ahold of Anna.

He had been with Anna when she had read the book of Hinlen and discovered that the magic from the kings of old could still be accessed, a secret that must never get in the hands of King Gillard.

The evil kings of old were currently encased in solid rock. Leian knew their vast evil had been responsible for many deaths. Their stone tombs were hidden deep in the Helmand Mountains.

Remembering the stories his father had told him, he knew the people of Genoa had been freed when the wizards had combined their powers and imprisoned the kings in stone so many seasons ago.

If King Gillard had any idea the magic of the kings of old might still be available, Genoa was doomed. He was sure the wizards from that time could not have known the future troubles their decisions would cause.

But now it was Leian’s job, one he had been given, to protect Genoa’s future and ensure that what had been started long ago would be corrected.

Failure was not an option.

Now he found himself standing amongst the gathered races or most of them. There were tree sprites, with their tall limbs of bark and pale white faces, regally standing in the corner with their brightly colored leaves waving about their heads. Then there were the small wind willows, their bug like faces topped by antenna with their thin colorful wings flapping. They were either flying about or standing on any high surface in the room that would support their child size bodies.

His personal favorite, however, was the gnomes. These were the first he had ever met, and he found their personalities to his liking. Their round shape and horns and the weapons they strapped about their tall bodies seemed intimidating, but their stories and laughter kept him amused.

Would these creatures and people be able to help him get back to Anna and Shiarra? Where were the two women? He wondered and worried as he crushed his borrowed hat in his large hands. He shuffled from one foot to the next as he tried to find a comfortable stance in Hurra’s kitchen.

Had Shiarra followed his instructions and attempted to reach the others that were marked on his magical seeking map? Were she and Anna safe? Would he ever see Shiarra again? Could she, at this very moment, be with the queen in Valorna, safe from any danger? And what were the queen’s orders that Hurra had mentioned earlier?

He quickly glanced around the open room and saw Dryna wave him over. He settled into a chair next to him.

Dryna had a handsome enough face that was set in concentration. Leian could see that his deep brown eyes continued to scan the room. A bright red sash full of weapons draped across the man’s broad shoulders. Dryna’s long hair had been tied back in a braid and he kept his face clear of any beard, making Leian wonder if the husband of the resistance leader had the same problem he did with growing facial hair.

Next to him was Captain Crain. The old, bald man obviously had no problem with facial hair; his neat mustache covered his top lip while a fancy goatee hung well past his collar. Crain fiddled with its ends while they waited. However, his weathered face showed no signs of impatience as he sat back and continued drinking his tea. These were the only two men in this small group of rebels whom he knew.

When Hurra started to talk to the group, they all closed in tight around the table as silence fell like rain. Her soft voice was gentle and comfortable, just like the soup and bread she had placed in front of him. The small amount of food had not been enough and he started eating a sweet purple fruit from a large bowl on the table.

With Dryna’s help, we have kept safe the wizard Leian. Hurra addressed the group. Her face, beautiful and calm, was lit by the many oil lanterns placed high around the room. Her blond hair curled about her round soft face, and her full lips smiled gently as she looked about with deep blue eyes. Her short bangs covered her eyebrows as she leaned forward. At this moment, a quest to rescue the wizard’s apprentice and the once exiled princess is underway.

When Leian started to speak, Hurra held up a hand for him to wait.

Action is now needed. She looked directly at the tree sprites. Brakko’s dark eyes stared unblinkingly back from his pale face with no expression. Was the sprite being singled out for some reason? After a moment Brakko moved his wooden limbs, and Leian wondered if he was shuffling in discomfort or nervousness.

Hurra turned once again to the group and continued, We have received a request to bring Wizard Leian to Valorna.

The room erupted with noise; it appeared everyone had an opinion of this request. The wind willows flew about the room, each waving their little arms as they shouted their demand that the wizard stay and help their cause. The gnomes stomped their large flat feet and made booming noises with their noses. Other men stood up from their chairs and tried to be heard over the loud racket in the hopes they too could retain the wizard for their cause.

Hurra waited a moment, her small hands folded on the table in front of her as her light hair fell around her face. She raised both her hands above her head with her palms out towards the group, and the room fell quiet once more.

The time for action is now! she continued in a firmer voice. The king made this unmistakable when he sent Kriston after the exiled girl. He made it apparent when he sent a coded message to General Zobo several suns ago and sent the spy Pen into our midst. Do not forget, we are at war! Here Hurra stood and slowly walked around the room, her soft skirt whispering against the clean wooden floor. The creatures of Genoa are suffering. Dying at the hands of Matera’s king. The land and rivers are poisoned. Hope of recovery dies each day King Gillard sits on the throne! How long... how long must we suffer before action is taken? The queen of Valorna has done everything she can to help us in our fight. She has sent supplies, weapons, and men. She took a long look around the room as men and creatures all shuffled and looked down in humiliation. Now she asks for our help. Rescue this man, Wizard Leian, who was imprisoned in the king’s dungeons. How many of us have had family, friends, and loved ones imprisoned in these same dungeons? How long will the king be allowed to kill and plunder from us? The queen has an urgent need of Wizard Leian, and now we must help. If this wizard can help the queen defeat King Gillard, then it is our job—no, it is our duty—to assist in every way possible!

It was Dryna who spoke first. When do we leave?

After giving her husband a smile, Hurra turned back to the room. The first group will depart for Valorna at sunset. A second group will leave when Lazerith is high.

And may we ask, my lady, where is this second group heading? asked Crain.

I need a small unit from the resistance to head south. She paused and looked at Crain. They will head to Malic.

Kriston awoke in pain. It started in his feet and travel all the way to the top of his head, only to move back downward again.

A faint light covered his body in a soft glow that brightened as he slowly opened his eyes. His long body was half covered in a buckskin as he lay sprawled on a soft bed of dried grass.

What he could see of his form showed his wounds had been tended. The large bandage Anna had placed as they had camped along the river still covered the fingers on his left hand. But the bandage on his forearm was new, along with the one covering his chest. When he tried to move, it felt like someone had stabbed him in the ribs with a saber. It felt like he had two broken ribs, maybe more. His hip was also giving him some trouble.

Moving his head, he noticed that he was in a large cone shaped tent. In the center sat a fire pit with gray smoke billowing up and out of a hole in the top. There were large logs about the size of his wrists holding the shelter up. The poles met at the top, and soft white canvas covered the whole structure. He smelled the smoke from the fire along with the scent of clean dirt.

There were several more cots lined up in rows in the tent. One of them was occupied by a small, elderly woman who was asleep. Her wrinkled hands rested next to her weather worn face.

He sat up slightly and saw an opening across from the bed. His head gave him some pain when he leaned all the way up, but that didn’t stop him from moving. What did was realizing that, under the blanket, he was fully naked.

He gave a quick look about, but his clothes were not to be found anywhere. He was about to panic when Anna strolled into the tent.

Where are we? What have you done with my clothes? he demanded as he tried to cover his large frame with the inadequately sized blanket.

I will ask the questions here, foe, she said in a deep voice filled with anger.

Giving her a quick look, he lay back down before he humiliated himself by losing what little was in his stomach.

Her anger was valid. After all, he had kidnapped her and forced her to travel with him all over Genoa. Who could blame her?

The path that had led him here, wherever here was, had been a long and twisted one. The start of the journey, at least, had been clear.

Was it his fault that his evil brother, King Gillard, had ordered him to capture Anna and bring her back to Matera? Had he not kept her safe like the Scarent, Mero the Push Tu, asked of him? Had he not fought for her safety three times in the Deepen Forest, saving her from his own brother’s secret guard, then the huge monstrous cats that roamed the forest, and lastly from the metal creature?

All these events had been beyond his control, just as his deep emotions were now. How was he to have known at the start of this quest that he would lose his priorities and his sanity? Despite his best efforts to prevent it, he was charmed by the woman who now stood glaring down at him. He was fascinated completely by her backward talk, her boyish manner, her quickness to forgive, and above all else her ability to laugh after escaping danger.

Look, I realize you must be mad at me for tying you up again, but you should know you deserved it, he said. He knew she was upset, but didn’t she realize they could be in danger? Where were they, and where had the creature gone to?

The last thing he remembered was Anna darting in and out of the forest riding Rath, his horse. The creature had been chasing her closely as she dashed between the Austera trees. He felt sick all over again as fear crept into him with the memory. Then other memories came flooding back—Brigdon!

Something twisted in his heart, and sharp pain poured forth. It felt like a big stone had dropped from a great distance and landed in his gut.

Cats! Brigdon, was all he could say as he fought for control of his emotions, which were so close to the surface.

His mentor, his friend, dead.

What of his other friends? Were they safe or had the creature gotten to them as well?

Anna, where are we? he asked urgently. When he received no answer, he glanced at her once more and noticed she was different. What in cat’s name have you done with your hair? He suddenly realized that she had not moved since entering the tent. She’d stood just inside the darkened doorway, holding herself stiff while he had rambled on.

His eyes ran over her more slowly, and he noticed that she wore odd clothing, not the soft dress he had first seen her in. She wore leather pants that hugged her tightly like they had been made for her and had been worn often. She had weapons strapped to her thin frame.

But it was her hair that was the biggest change. She had a Mohawk. Looking closer, he realized that her white hair was not shaved, but in fact tightly braided in very fine, small braids and piled on the top of her head in a thick mess, which made up the Mohawk. Its length fell along her back and lay about her shoulders, much longer than it had been previously. Beads were woven in and out of the silver locks, causing small flashes of color to gleam in the dim light.

When she finally spoke, Kriston realized it was more than her hair and dress that was different. You, Materan, are under the care of my tribe, Draydon. Her voice was deeper, full of anger. She marched forward and sat next to him on a small mat.

Who are you? he demanded, his entire body going on guard as he tried to sit up once more.

Materan, rest yourself, she said in a softer voice as she placed a firm hand on his good shoulder and gave him a slight shove back into the bed. He fell back on the cot heavily. He was so weak. We have spent days repairing you and do not wish you to undo our healer’s work.

She had barely finished talking when daylight streamed in the doorway and another person entered the tent.

There, in the doorway, stood Anna, her short hair tucked behind her ears and a smile already on her lips. She wore similar clothing to when he had first seen her, but this time he saw leather pants peeking out from a large slit on the side of her skirt. The sleeves of her white shirt had been cut to just above her elbows. Boots and a leather vest finished off the outfit, which accented her soft curves.

Kriston! You’re awake! she gasped when she noticed his eyes on her. She ran forward, bending over his prostrate form, and gave him a big hug. I thought you would never wake, it took forever. I was so worried! She flopped down on the opposite side of the bed and gave him a pained look. Kriston, I’m so sorry about Brigdon. I never meant for anyone to get hurt. I was trying to draw the Speculum away from you. I knew your men had contained the other one, but this one got by... She gave him a deep look and grabbed his good hand in her smaller one. I’m so sorry.

He looked deep into her eyes and saw the sorrow there and realized she was shaken profoundly by Brigdon’s death.

Taking a deep breath, he gave her hand a gentle squeeze and asked his questions again. Anna, where are we and who is this?

There’s so much to tell you! Anna said, visibly shaking off the mood. She quickly glanced over at the other woman. Kriston, this is Té. Té, Kriston Haddock of Matera.

Anna, I know who this Materan is. What I do not comprehend is why you treat him as a friend. I know that he accosted you at the waters of Mirror Lake and has held you against your wishes, Té said with hostility.

Giving her head a quick shake, Anna interrupted, No. I mean he did all of that, but you must understand that he also saved me several times. Anna placed a soft hand on Kriston’s shoulder as he lay in bed between the two women. He also has become my friend and, despite being hugely misinformed about me, he’s helped me, Anna finished softly.

You still have not answered my questions, Kriston said.

Oh, right. Well, Té is a tribe member with the Draydon tribes and we are in the medical tent, I mean healer’s tent here on these huge cliffs. I forget their name. Anna sent a pleading look at Té.

The Cliffs of Faro, Té provided.

Right! Faro, Anna said with a huge smile. It’s the most amazing place! They have dragons! Real life dragons. In fact, it was Té’s dragon that helped save you! Su Na is huge and amazing! Anna rushed on.

Great, Kriston said. Please, just explain why this woman looks and sounds like you.

Um, Anna said and gave Té another glance.

Tis fine, Té said, giving Anna a reassuring look. Collin has said the moon cycles have started and with your arrival, the secret is known to our enemies. You may tell your friend. She looked sternly at Kriston, indicating she would still hold judgment against him about the term friend.

Anna cleared her throat.

OK, well, it’s always great to start at the beginning. I read everything about this in the scrolls, so here goes. When she started talking, her voice changed slightly and her eyes became unfocused.

"Twenty of Genoa’s seasons ago, the three