Hex Breaker (The Fenearen Chronicles Book 1) Read online

  Hex Breaker

  The Fenearen Chronicles Book One

  Taryn Noelle Kloeden

  WILD WINDS PRESS

  Contents

  Map of Osterna

  The Sionic Hex

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  The Runaway Queen

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  The Better Killer

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Epilogue

  Thank you for reading!

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  For Krista and Michael,

  my best friends who have been a part of this adventure from the start.

  Part I

  The Sionic Hex

  Chapter One

  To Rayna, nothing felt safer than the darkness of the forest. As she passed beneath the boughs of an ancient white oak, she imagined treading the familiar paths on four legs instead of two. Tonight, she was determined to discover her other self. Most Fenearens did not take their wolf form until they had seen eight winters, not five, but that did not matter. Tonight would be the night. She sensed it in the soles of her feet, in how alive the world seemed in each breath she took.

  She sprang over thickets, following her mother, Mya, into a clearing fragrant with honeysuckle and thyme. Mya flopped to the ground and Rayna tumbled after her, their matching red hair vibrant against the grass. Together they had traveled leagues from their Densite, following vole and chipmunk trails, elk and rat snake paths, deep into the southern woods. They were a league from the coastline, and the taste of brine seasoned each gulp of air Rayna took.

  “That was quite a run, Rayna. You're getting faster.” Catching her breath, Mya rolled to her feet. She took Rayna’s hand and pulled her up. “What do you say? Are you ready to try shifting again? Here, keiri, watch me first.”

  Mya vanished, and in her place a sleek red wolf bowed her muzzle at Rayna in steady encouragement. Rayna clamped her eyelids shut. Warmth rushed into her core, and she willed it to her limbs as she bent forward. Her palms touched the ground, and her nose itched. Resisting the urge to scratch it, Rayna visualized her goal. Her nails and teeth grew and her eyes thinned. She had almost transformed, but her human self was stubborn. Her spine ached to arch upward, and her joints threatened to turn in all the wrong directions. This was where she always lost it. Not tonight, when she was so close. She focused on her lupine senses, on the part of her that howled and snarled and tracked squirrels through the brush. Digging her claws into the soil, she fell forward with a cry, which came out as a yip.

  Mya barked and Rayna understood the sound as if it were common speech. Excellent Rayna! Full forming at your age–it's almost unheard of!

  Rayna shook out her own red fur. Moss tickled her paw pads as she tentatively stepped forward. She was lower to the ground as a wolf pup, and the world had transformed from familiar to brand new. Colors were different, not muted but less distracting. She could sense movements tinier than she had thought possible–a moth landing on a pine tree thirty tail-lengths away, the twitching nose of an otherwise motionless rabbit almost hidden by a juniper bush. Every break in stillness caught her attention.

  Her sense of smell had changed too. She detected everything she had before, but each scent was multilayered, more complex. She could smell the rat snake curled beneath a boulder and the field mouse it digested in its belly, as well as the scraps of dead skin left from its last shed still clinging to its tail. Every time it flicked its tongue, she knew. Just as she knew the rabbit beneath the juniper had eaten strawberries and that a flock of turkeys had passed through the clearing the day before.

  Rayna, are you all right? Mya nudged Rayna’s scruff with her nose. Her mother’s scent overrode everything. She smelled of lilacs from the tree outside their den and of chamomile, lavender, and mint–all herbs she used as a healer.

  Rayna nodded, though the human gesture now felt stiff.

  Try saying something.

  But I don’t know how! Rayna whined and pawed the ground before she realized what she had done. Wait, I did it!

  Mya barked a laugh. You see? Once you form, the Wolven language is instinct. You’ve always been a wolf, Rayna. It was only a matter of finding that part of yourself. Now that you have, you can understand both Wolven and Clanspeak no matter your form.

  Will I be able to talk to the True Wolves now? Rayna had always wanted to speak to those wolves who had no human form, who shared territory with the Fenearens.

  Yes, though True Wolves will only speak Wolven, and non-Fenearen humans only Clanspeak. You won't be able to use Clanspeak when you are a wolf, so you'll have to take your human form to communicate with them.

  But I can speak Wolven in either form? Rayna asked.

  Yes. Mya answered. It's confusing at first, but it will all come clear as you practice.

  Rayna trotted in circles around her mother. Wait until Uncle Bayne and Aunt Silver see me! What do you think Father would've said? Her own ease with the Wolven gestures and sounds astounded her. For five summers, she had spoken only Clanspeak, the common language of Osterna, but, as Mya had said, innate knowledge of wolf communication came with her wolf form.

  Aquillo would be as proud as I am, Rayna. Now, let's continue training. You have so much to learn.

  Rayna practiced until moonlight filtered through the trees. Her mother showed her how to catch the slightest scent on the wind currents and how to groom her fluffy pup coat. She even explained which fabrics she could wear so that her clothing would condense into her wolf form and reappear when she became human.

  Always remember this, Rayna. Mya jumped onto a boulder coated with green and alive with the songs of crickets.

  Rayna scrambled up beside her.

  The power to transform is a blessing from the goddess Lumae, said Mya. It is not a game or a trick to be misused or taken for granted. Be the wolf when you need the wolf–to hunt, to fight, to flee. Be the human when you need to climb, to grasp, to heal, to create. One day you will learn to transition quicker than thought, but never forget how fortunate you are to be Fenearen. To walk this world as both human and wolf is a gift.

  Rayna followed her mother’s gaze through the forest. I understand, Mada.

  Good. Mya flicked her tail and leaped back onto the ground. They returned to the path and started north toward the Densite. Before they'd made much progress, though, a pungent scent assaulted Rayna's senses.

  Mya froze, shifting human again and peering through the trees.

  Mada
. Rayna whined, closing her eyes. After a few tries, she took the same form as her mother.

  “Hush, Rayna.” A growl mixed with her Clanspeak.

  Rayna obeyed. The wind currents carried an overpowering smell. She took in a hesitant whiff, unsure what she was scenting. There were people and animal fat for torch fuel, but the third, deeper level stung like a metallic lash.

  “What is that?” Rayna whispered.

  “Maenorens. There must be a raiding party down by the coast. They haven't dared be so bold for a long time. Quick now Rayna, we have to head home and tell your grandfather.”

  Maenorens. The word sent equal parts terror and disbelief surging through her, leaving her shivering. Fenear had been at war with its neighbor Maenor for centuries, but the fighting had nearly ceased after the Maenorens had failed to conquer Fenear the spring Rayna had been born. She still heard of raids on the northern Densites, but would Maenorens attack here, in the southernmost part of Fenear? It made no sense. Maenor was leagues away, and all of Fenear lay between them and the border. Her mother had to be wrong, or pretending.

  They crept back toward the Southern Densite. Rayna did not like this game or training, if that’s what it was. It scared her, penetrating her security like a thorn twisting through her paw pad.

  Rayna followed her mother, careful to not even rustle a leaf. Just as she felt they might be able to slip away unnoticed, the smell strengthened. She heard agitated voices, and torchlight danced among the leaves on all sides.

  “Whatever happens Rayna, stay hidden.” Mya pushed her into the brambles. The burrs and thorns cut her skin and tugged on her leather breeches and shirt, but she was too terrified to notice the pain.

  Dark shapes separated from torchlit trees. In wolf form, Rayna may have been able to see their features, but with human eyes, she saw only twelve men, dark-haired and oddly dressed. They wore thin fabrics she could not name, and their metal breastplates reflected the firelight, throwing their angular faces in sharp relief. Golden snakes with diamond-shaped heads leered from the seals emblazoned on their chests as Mya approached them, arms raised.

  Most Fenearens did not carry weapons, especially not a healer like her mother. There was no need when you had claws and teeth. Yet, as Rayna took in the longswords hanging from the hip of each Maenoren, claws and teeth seemed little comfort. Her mother had never looked more vulnerable.

  “What are you doing here?” Mya’s voice was firm. It was the voice she used when Rayna was in trouble, and it revealed no fear. The men looked at one another and laughed.

  “Aren’t you a lucky find?” The Maenoren closest to Mya passed his torch to another before unsheathing his blade and raising it to her chin. Rayna could not see her mother’s face, but Mya's voice was quieter when she spoke again.

  “I asked what you were doing here.” Mya’s nails elongated, but the change was so subtle that the Maenorens took no notice.

  “Tell me, wolfkind, are you alone?” Even as he asked, the other eleven men began searching the area. They slashed at vines and peered up trees as they trampled over saplings without a care.

  “Yes,” Mya said. The sword still hovered at her throat. Rayna wanted to help, to use her new found wolf form to protect her mother, but fear's icy grip held her fast.

  “Hm. Seems to me that a pack animal like you is almost never alone. So either you’re a fool, or you’re lying to me.” The Maenoren forced Mya’s head up with the tip of his blade. “Which is it?”

  Mya did not answer. One of the other Maenorens was coming closer to Rayna's hiding spot, cutting through underbrush and scattering animals in his way. Soon, his sword would crash into her thicket, too.

  “Just tell me what you want.” Mya backed away from the Maenoren until her legs were mere hair-lengths in front of Rayna.

  A smile twisted the Maenoren’s mouth. He could not be much older than Mya. “There’s a market for savages in the Kyrean Republic. Years ago I captured a few of you and lived like a highborn lord off the profits.” Without taking his eyes or sword from Mya, he reached into his cloak and removed a metal band etched with unfamiliar marks.

  “So why don’t you make it easier on all of us and put this on?” He raised the band as three more of his companions pointed their swords and torches at Mya. “It’s nothing personal, but I am going to take you–” he dropped his gaze to Rayna in her hiding place, “and whoever you’re hiding in that bush, with me.”

  “Rayna. Run.” As the words left her lips, Mya shifted, dropping beneath the Maenoren’s sword. The Maenoren screamed, falling beneath Mya's claws. A moment later his eyes stared lifelessly at Rayna. A hand plunged into the thickets. She shrieked and crawled away but it closed around her hair, yanking her into the open. Three men lay unmoving and mangled around her blood-spattered, wolf-formed mother. Mya’s eyes flashed, reflecting silver moonlight and gold fire as she leaped onto the Maenoren who had grabbed Rayna.

  I said run! Get help! Mya howled as another Maenoren thrust his sword into her shoulder. She jerked away with a yelp that turned into a scream as she fell back, human.

  “Mada!” Rayna ducked beneath another Maenoren. In a whirl of instinct and determination, Rayna formed and bit the ankle of the man who had stabbed her mother.

  He lost his footing, and Mya slashed his throat. Blood poured from Mya’s shoulder as she pulled away, and her face was pale and shining with sweat. “Someone help!” she yelled, pushing Rayna behind her.

  Two Maenorens barreled into Mya as she re-took her wolf form. They toppled over Rayna–a blur of swords, claws, and bodies. Amid the screams and clangs, another sound, like a walnut cracking, echoed in Rayna’s ears. The smell of blood overwhelmed her wolf senses, and nausea tore through her. With another sickening lurch, she fell to the ground, human once more. The two men who had tackled her mother staggered to their feet, shoulders heaving as they backed away from where Mya lay, human and unmoving. Her head rested against a sharp, quartz-veined rock, and blood darkened the soil.

  “No!” Rayna ran toward her mother. The remaining Maenorens chased after her, but she no longer cared.

  “Damn, we can't sell the wench to the Corsairs if it's dead!”

  “Take the little one! Slave-traders will pay more for a young one.”

  Rayna shook her mother's limp arms. “Wake up! Mada, wake up!” She touched Mya's still face. “Mada please, I’m scared.”

  Rayna screeched as one of the men reached for her. Somehow, she extended her nails into a wolf's claws as her mother had done and slashed them across her attacker’s face.

  The Maenoren cursed before reaching for his blade. “Not worth it. I say we put it down now in honor of our new Overlord. Rhael promises he'll level this nation of beasts once and for all. Let's make a start for him, shall we?”

  A howl tore through the night, silencing the Maenorens. Rayna recognized her uncle Bayne's voice.

  Rayna shrieked,“Bayne! Help! We're over here! Help us!”

  A chorus of howls answered her. We're coming.

  The Maenoren swore again. “Leave the whelp and run! There must be at least a dozen.”As the man spoke, a streak of black followed by others–brown, red, tan, and gold–appeared and encircled the trespassers. A silver-blonde wolf jumped in front of Rayna, baring her teeth to the Maenorens.

  Rayna clung to her aunt's fur. “Silver! They hurt Mada. You have to help her!”

  Bayne's imposing black form crossed in front of them, his eyes locked on the outnumbered Maenorens. Silver, take Rayna to safety.

  Silver took her human form and gathered Rayna into her arms. Rayna peered over her aunt’s shoulder as Silver carried her from the battle. The circle of Fenearens closed behind them.

  Once his mate and niece had disappeared into the safety of the woods, Bayne growled, advancing on the Maenoren raiders. His hunting party followed his example, hackles afire and bone white teeth exposed. The Maenorens raised their weapons, but fighting a single Fenearen was nothing compared to facing the wrath of a pack.
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  Bayne ducked his first attacker's sword and slammed into his stomach, knocking him to the ground. Bayne tore into his neck and moved on. He avoided another Maenoren's broadsword as he ran between the man's legs. He formed human as he reappeared behind the man’s back, confusing his opponent long enough to ram his still extended claws into his throat.

  Bayne searched for the next Maenoren, but found all but four of the trespassers beaten and dead by his packmates' teeth. Those who remained fell to their knees and cast their weapons aside.

  Bayne called his apprentice over from the fringes of the battle. “Roxen, are you all right?”

  The young man slowly nodded, his paling skin a stark contrast to his auburn locks. “Good. Hurry and fetch a healer for Mya.” After Roxen sprinted toward the Densite, Bayne turned to the surrendering Maenorens.

  “Mercy, we yield!” one of the men said. The others echoed him between frantic sobs.

  “Aye, like the mercy you showed my mate's sister?” Bayne wanted to make these men pay for their crime, but helping Mya was more important than avenging her. Besides, he could not disobey the Fenearen code: Never kill a man on his knees.

  “Go now before I change my mind! Tell your Overlord what happens to Maenorens who sneak into our territory and attack our people. But leave your weapons, stained with our blood.” Bayne and his hunting party stepped aside, allowing the men to struggle to their feet and flee toward the coast.

  Steeling himself, Bayne hurried to Mya's side. She had not stirred during the skirmish, and Bayne feared what he would find. He knelt and cradled her bloodied head in his lap.

  Rayna buried her face in her aunt’s silver-blonde hair. “She'll be okay. Bayne will save her, right?”

  Silver did not answer at first. Rayna felt her swallow. “He'll do everything he can.” She slowed to a brisk walk as they came to a clearing beside a narrow, bubbling brook. She sniffed the air for signs of danger before placing Rayna on a bed of moss and settling beside her.