Yuletide Sparkle
Lissa Dobbs
Copyright © 2015 by TMDobbs
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
This is a work of fiction. Any similarity to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.
Table of Contents
Yuletide Sparkle
Aradia’s Secret Excerpt
About the Author
Also by Lissa Dobbs
Yuletide Sparkle
Morgan ducked and came up with fire in her hands. She tossed it at the specter and listened with pleasure as the creature howled. Its misty form mixed with the magical flame gave it the appearance of fog on fire, but the stench wafting from it was nothing so pleasant. Another specter joined the first, and Morgan rolled her eyes at the thought of spending her entire evening battling the stupid things.
The creature reached out a tendril of itself, and Morgan jumped backwards. She’d seen far too many people suffering from specter bites to let the thing touch her. If it didn’t drain her life force, it would poison her. Not a pretty way to die.
“Need a hand?”
“No,” Morgan replied. She shot fire from her fingers, and another specter went down.
Several more specters joined the first, and Morgan chose lightning to lash out at them. The bolt passed from specter to specter, and those it touched screamed and evaporated. Morgan stopped for a moment and gasped for breath as the cold air of the Shizzuria Wasteland froze her lungs.
“Morgan, look out!”
Morgan whirled to come face-to-face with the specter. She brought up a force field of energy, but the specter reached through it. Erastus Hallowell brought his ax around and sliced through the specter’s mist. It screeched and dissipated, only to reform several feet away.
“Stubborn bastard,” Morgan muttered. To Erastus she said, “Thanks for the rescue. Now, will you let me get this done?”
Erastus smiled, an expression that had warmed Morgan’s heart more than once. “Looks like you could use a hand.”
Morgan shrugged then dodged another tendril. “Then clap from over there. An axe won’t kill these things.”
Erastus grinned and nicked the middle finger of his left hand. A small nimbus of dark crimson light formed in his palm. “Will this help?”
Morgan took a step back, her mouth falling open in shock. “Who are you?” She jumped aside to avoid another specter swipe. This time she lost all patience with the beings and lashed out with as much lightning and fire as she could. She screamed her defiance and her desire to finish this fight.
The specters fell with hissing screams. Their blood bubbled in the snow and formed deep wells that quickly refroze into gray-black sheets of ichor ice.
Morgan turned to Erastus with questions written on her face and confusion in her eyes. She waited, hoping against hope that her next enemy wouldn’t be him.
Erastus laughed. “Don’t freak on me. I come from the Blood Mages of Harrowind, though I was born around here.”
“Harrowind? In Moirena? You’re demon get?”
Erastus sighed and sent his magic into a newly arrived specter. The light formed a small ball in its center, then it expanded within the mist and exploded outward. Specter guts splashed across the snow, a black ichor that hissed and smoked in the cold, and Erastus jumped backwards to keep it from splattering his boots. He turned to Morgan with a scowl. “About a dozen generations back, yeah, I’m demon get. Is that a problem?”
Memories of her time in Moirena surged through Morgan’s mind. The succubus Lemoreal. The twisting of Daniel’s mind. Justin deciding to stay; Morgan’s children still blamed her for that. The hordes of demons. Terror. Despair. Agony. She fought back the waves that threatened to drown her and looked at Erastus, one of her best customers, someone she somewhat considered a friend. “Not a problem at all.” But the words caught in her throat and nearly choked her.
Morgan looked around for any sign of more specters. When she was sure they were gone, she turned to Erastus again. “Thanks for your help.”
Erastus gave her an exaggerated bow. “You’re welcome, milady. Shall I escort you home?”
Morgan smiled and shook her head at his foolishness, then she shrugged. “If you’d like.” But a part of her wanted to run from him, more because of her memories of Moirena than because he was a Blood Mage.
Morgan’s feet dragged as they made their way back to the mining village. Snow lay heavily on the ground, and the lights from the mining village glowed in the darkness. Morgan shivered as they passed the entrance to one of the mines, for, more than once, creatures had come up out of that particular cavern. Most likely, the specters that had just interfered with her Yule had, too.
Morgan paused and peered into its depths. An unnatural cold blew from the black maw and entwined in her bones and marrow. An echo of ancient creatures, of things too long buried, reached the depths of her mind, and she wanted nothing more than to forget that this place existed.
“They need to seal that entrance,” Erastus said.
Morgan nodded and resumed her trek home. “Yeah. They really do. It’d make my life a lot easier.”
“Mine, too,” Erastus agreed. “The things coming out of that hole don’t offer good to anyone.”
“So, Ranger’s regularly deal with specters and the like?”
Erastus shook his head and grinned at Morgan. “Not so much. We mostly patrol the area of Riverland Pearlrest. You know, make sure no one’s stealing from the rich and such.” He shrugged. “I spent a good part of my life on the Wasteland, so I wander into it a bit more than I should.”
“What about the mine entrances?”
Erastus shrugged again. “They are what they are. Until the company closes them, the only thing we can do is make sure whatever comes out of them doesn’t hurt others.”
Morgan had to agree. The Steamreach Coal Company had long ago abandoned that specific mine because too many miners had been attacked while working there, and too many others had died for no apparent reason. Unfortunately for Morgan and other Shadow Walkers, they hadn’t sealed the entrance, so whatever had caused the initial trouble was more than able to continue to plague the area around Grenvor. Morgan had intended to venture into the mine and dispose of the threat, but she simply hadn’t gotten around to it.
“I can make it from here,” Morgan said to Erastus when they entered the village proper. She brushed a strand of auburn hair away from her face and wiped the ice from her spectacles. “I’m sure you have better things to do.”
Erastus shrugged, and Morgan was struck by the innocence in his expression. At six foot three, there was nothing small about him, and the dark hair, blue eyes, and twisted vine tattoo up his arm only lent more menace to his appearance. But, at the same time, there was still something vulnerable about him that Morgan couldn’t quite put her finger on. “Not really. Even the Rangers don’t have to patrol on Yuletide unless there’s a known threat in the area.”
Morgan gave him a sad smile as they walked through the snow to her home. “There’s always something going on over at Mistbay. Most of the miners gather there, and Judon always has a tree.” Morgan chuckled. “I can usually here them from the house.”
Erastus sighed. “I may check it out.”
Morgan walked up the stairs to her porch. “You have fun, and Happy Yuletide,” she said. Morgan glanced around the town then back at Erast
us. “And thanks for the help.”
For a moment, Erastus looked like he wanted to say something more, then he waved and headed off into the night.