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  It was coming.

  Wisdom concentrated on building up his magic. Between Josephine’s updates on the King’s whereabouts, Easton ordered the men to start lowering lifeboats.

  “Keep yer magic charm!” Easton waved aside the prince’s offer to use the necklace. “A sailor’s place is the sea! And we’ll use it even if it ends us! Josephine! Yer grandfather’d have my head if ye don’t hurry up!”

  The young man had just swung over the edge to the rope ladder when the King’s massive claw shot up next to the ship.

  “As’yna!” Wisdom cursed, unprepared at the sudden move.

  He thrust his magic toward the oncoming claw, knocking it back to give the men more time to jump into the boats.

  “Cut the lines!” Easton ordered. “Prince!”

  Wisdom readied himself for another blow. I won’t be able to stop it! As the claw came down once again, he readied all his remaining energy.

  A flash of silver and black darted from the surface. Almost too quick to follow, it passed just beneath the joint.

  Wisdom waited. Easton waited. On the rope ladder, Josephine remained transfixed on the stilled claw.

  Then it collapsed. Like a sliced column, the severed claw toppled into the water. Spray doused the already dripping men while turbulence below sent the ship grinding against sandy bottom.

  “Josephine, get down from there!” Easton cried when a second, smaller claw smacked against some of the riggings. Its pincher tangled on the rope ladder. When it pulled back, the rope snapped.

  “Jose!” Wisdom dove for his thrown friend, shifting in mid-air. The speedy change pained his body as blood united both hawk and wolf forms.

  Still, he was too late. With the netting wrapped around the claw, it receded beneath the white caps, taking the young man with it…

  Blue Moon Rising Trilogy

  How it all began…

  Book One in the trilogy, Wisdom, begins the journey of a young boy who discovers the reason behind a secretive upbringing and introduces us to a world of creatures, magic, and an imbalance in Nature.

  www.WisdomNovels.com

  HEALER

  BOOK THREE OF BLUE MOON RISING TRILOGY

  Published by Foreseers Productions™

  Richmond, VA USA

  This novel is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to an actual person, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. The characters, names, plots and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination.

  Copyright © 2015, Bonnie Watson

  All rights reserved; no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior written consent of Bonnie Watson.

  Cover Design by Bonnie Watson.

  Copyright © 2015 Foreseers Productions ™ (Trade Paper)

  Printed in the United States of America

  Author’s Website: www.WisdomNovels.com

  A warm thank you to everyone who supported me

  and helped make the story grow. You are all my greatest fans.

  HEALER

  PROLOGUE

  There were not many instances Chronicles felt he had forgotten something. And yet, in the midst of preparing his people to invade human territory, he realized for one fleeting moment that he had.

  As he stood on the mountaintop overlooking the forested paradise of Crystal Valley, he tried to recall his former homeland back at Ettotu’s Glade. The renowned location for the shape-shifter race of Lo-ans’rel, known as Healers, was just south of his people’s current position.

  He let his thoughts wander, remembering….

  Ettotu’s Glade was a close-knit community of forests in the land of No’va. It flourished from the multitude of Healers, for they were quick to manipulate their surroundings into a place of supreme tranquility. There were no borders to contend with, no need for lookouts. Nature provided all, from food and shelter, to the spider-spun clothing worn day to day. In return, Healers made certain the balance between plant and animal remained intact, even extending their talents to human farmlands throughout the surrounding area.

  Fields brimming with large quantities of vegetables sent families into a frenzy of pouring and mixing, until the proper formula was complete and passed into a bowl. As Healers waited patiently, hidden in the guise of various animal forms, their sensitive ears would prick at the hopeful words, “There be Healers close by!”

  Then the bowl, filled to the brim with savory liquid, was placed within an appropriate distance from the house to watch the different animals emerge from hiding. It was during one such feeding that Chronicles met Greverlend. Those lovely garnet eyes held many an adoring gaze, but it was Chronicles’ heart it won.

  In his true form, Chronicles stood just shy of a fully-grown human, with one oddity that distinguished Lo-ans’rel from humans – the ears. Reflecting the same skin tone, their pointed tips darkened with a tuft of white fuzz. At the approach of another, one flicked back like that of a wolf to tune in distinct movements.

  It was Greverlend.

  “As beautiful as Nature can be, nothing compares to you, my dear.” He turned and, slightly bowing, took her hand to place a kiss atop her creamy flesh.

  “Always the gentleman.” She allowed him to thread a few fingers through her wavy brown hair. Ears laid back in content. “Father reviewed your request today.”

  “And?” He laid a hand over her swell of stomach. It would be another four months before the child was due, but already Chronicles could feel excitement. To become a parent and pass down the Lo-ans’rel ways was a major accomplishment. As shape-shifting was their way of life, it took great patience to teach a young Healer, and Chronicles felt he was ready to present himself as an exceptional father.

  Greverlend sighed. “The shift in magic doesn’t connect with humans. It’s something stronger, chaotic even.”

  Strands of light gray hair swayed over his forehead in the passing breeze, and Chronicles ran a hand through it to set it in place. The idea of engaging humans was not something new.

  But when one falls in love? His thoughts were filled with skepticism. “Chaotic, you say?” Chronicles stepped aside in a pace to better collect his thoughts. “Meaning…it’s corrupted? Is that not what’s happening to us now? I’m just a little concerned that we may be tangling with something Nature is reacting against. Have you seen what a half-breed Lo-ans’rel looks like? And now the change in magic – I ask how he thinks it’s non-related?”

  Greverlend laughed. “Having a human’s child doesn’t mean corruption. Our blood is still the same. They can still shift.”

  “Barely. It just worries me that Windchester isn’t thinking this through.” The image of a fat, squatty clan member came to mind. Such an obscurity to their normally sleek look made for a poor excuse as a shape-shifter, and he made sure to mentally pass the image to his mate.

  She shook her head. “I’m fairly certain Providence wouldn’t have picked my father to be clan leader if he didn’t know what he was doing. The future of our people may depend on this, as our numbers are already too thin.”

  “Providence…” The day of his disappearance had left Greverlend’s father in Chronicles’ stead. Chronicles never understood why he had not been picked. Was it not the clan’s decree that father pass along leadership to his firstborn? “I just don’t understand the lot of it. But perhaps you’re right. Maybe he saw something in Windchester I may have missed.”

  A sudden shift of energy coursed through the earth. Although never directly moving the soil beneath their feet, they both staggered back as though it had. Ears flattened in alarm. The energy moved quickly, and was soon gone.

  “Chronicles…” Greverlend’s voice grew frail with uncertainty
. “That wasn’t Nature. Something else is drawing power.”

  He put a protective arm around her to hold her close, and cursed in silence why he could not pinpoint where the energy was traveling. He decided to open his thoughts to clan members within the area, mentally asking each what they felt. Just as confused as he, none had an answer but one – the advisor Eumaeus.

  Speaking only within the mind, he answered, There’s been some trouble in the human realms lately, something about a rogue shape-shifter or some nonsense! Some of them are even reacting as though they’ve never seen us before.

  Odd, Chronicles thought back. What about that pull of energy?

  Apparently, they’ve sent a magic-user to speak with Windchester about it. They’re working out some sort of plan to alleviate the confusion but—Eumaeus’ thoughts were interrupted when Greverlend took hold of Chronicles’ arm in a fierce grip.

  Ignoring the Healer still connected to his thoughts, Chronicles followed his mate’s terrified gaze to a trail of smoke billowing through the distant trees. Or is it? He wondered, watching the dance of transparent gases distort the forest canopy into a liquefied haze.

  No no no! Eumaeus screeched, enough to startle Chronicles back to the current conversation. This can’t be!

  Where is Windchester! Beside him, Chronicles could sense Greverlend connecting her thoughts to the other as well. The need to seek out her father was strong.

  A flurry of birds scattered into flight. They were all Healers fleeing at the first flicker of red and orange flames. Leaves curled into black ruin. It did not take long for the fire to spread. Soon, branches toppled with thick black smoke churning the sky. Children screamed, scrambling to find family members while couples sought each other in various shifted forms.

  “Get out of the forest!” Chronicles pushed Greverlend away. “Hurry!”

  “What of you!” but at the crash of tree falling against tree, then slamming to the ground, instinct took over. Their unborn child was a priority and, with one final glance to her mate, Greverlend fled in the form of a doe.

  Even as Chronicles searched for those in need of help, their thoughts stayed connected. She, at least, was safe. For those still lingering, it became a game of dodge and cough! Wounded Healers choked from the smoke. Chronicles himself fell to its ravenous fumes in a fit of coughing. A crack from above, and the Healer had just enough time to dive sideways to avoid a flaming branch.

  Where’s my daughter? came the thoughts of Windchester.

  Safe! Chronicles allowed him to sense her connection before he was entirely satisfied.

  I’ll get the rest! Get yourself out! Don’t wait! It’s coming!

  Chronicles could barely register his leader’s words before a string of flames swept through the clearing. The ironic movement of fire made no sense, as though something else controlled it. Only when it had finished dividing the ground did it rise up in a great wall of lapping orange and red waves.

  That’s when he saw it.

  As swift as it came, the memory went.

  It was gone.

  Momentarily confused, Chronicles shook his head at the uncanny flashback. What had it been?

  Humans, Chronicles finally concluded. They’re the reason we had to leave. They’re the reason we must take it back!

  A spec of white surfaced the forest canopy from below. A White Wing, he realized as it lifted off into flight and began circling ever higher. The Harma ‘Keyarx temporarily left his line of vision to fly up behind the rocky slope. When a great wind billowed his robes in the course of landing, he knew it had approached from behind.

  Chronicles needed no introductions to know who started speaking.

  “At your word, we are ready to proceed.”

  “I am most grateful to you and your kind, Rusha,” the Lo-ans’rel leader greeted without turning.

  The harpy joined Chronicles at the cliff’s edge. Though he kept his wings at ready, he relaxed the top feathers around his face and shoulders. The similarity to humans when his plumes lay flat caused the leader to purse his lips in a scowl. If not for the dark patterns crossing under each eye and down the cheek, Chronicles would have dubbed the creature human whether he was or not.

  Again, he tried to recall the memory that had plagued him a moment earlier, to no avail. The need to finish all preparations outweighed the possibility that something was amiss.

  “Once we receive word from either my son or Jangus, we will proceed according to plan.”

  Rusha shot him a quizzical look. “I would have thought you’d keep Jangus here in case your son failed to report back.”

  The Healer sighed. “Shy would do better to know there are limitations to my patience. Sending Jangus was a reminder of that.”

  “You want them to confront one another?”

  They stood a moment more until, used to the Healer’s lack of immediate response, the harpy took it as a sign to leave and pushed from the ledge into flight.

  Chronicles watched him go, waiting until the White Wing was well below the cliffs before shifting. A silver glow enveloped his form, then faded with renewed transformation. In the form of an owl, the leader followed the harpy’s path and headed for the valley below.

  CHAPTER 1

  Wisdom had not expected such a large gathering. Curious shop keepers from the nearby town of Trully brought their families to witness his first public representation as Healer. Among the townspeople were clansmen, their faces eagerly accepting change to their once solitary existence.

  Only a few weeks had passed since Wisdom had taken over the abandoned Eastern Clan. Centrally located in the Realm of Trully, he had successfully brought the surrounding clans back together after years of distrust and segregation. As he knelt upon the path and prepared to connect with Nature, he listened to the surrounding clan leaders keeping the crowd at a comfortable distance. A smile spread across his face. Before, the leaders had refused to speak to one another. Now they did so with vigor.

  He passed a pale hand over the tangle of vines and interwoven, dry raffia stems. A small amount of energy eased from his fingertips into the soil. The response from Nature was equally as gentle, with a pulsating response that signaled acceptance. Magic then coursed through his veins in a soothing flow of transforming visuals sent mostly through thought. In his mind, he could see the path he knelt upon widen and branch off into the nearby forest where the Western Clan lay hidden. Around him tree trunks groaned, their roots sinking further into the earth. Vines pulled aside loose stone while larger ones rose to the surface to create a smooth walkway. Overhanging foliage slithered up into the canopy. Lastly, he called forth a line of blooming flora to reside on either side of the new road. The result created a positive reaction from onlookers.

  Slowly, Wisdom stood, giving time for the connection with Nature to end. Then he turned to the people and took a bow with a few fingers combing through his pallid curls to set them in place. Applause and whistles met his pointed ears. One flicked forward at the approach of Alexander, leader of the Western Clan.

  “It’s exactly as I remember!” Alexander said. “Like going back in time.”

  In contrast to the albino prince, Alexander’s chestnut hair and dusky skin complexion put him right at home within the wooded area. A crossbow at his side was accompanied with a pouch containing bolts. Well-suited as a tracker, Alexander rested a hand alongside his trusty bow, pleased with the Healer’s performance.

  “Nature has a way of backtracking layers of history,” Wisdom said. “If I had asked her to pull back even more, the road would no longer exist.” He tapped a boot on freshly laid stone forming two lines down the road’s center.

  “Well done!” Leader of the Mystics, Nemmerel, approached with the doctor Nickademis at his side. The two seemed inseparable since the Mystic leader had recovered from his illness, both with matching grey beards. “The realm will be prosperous before long.”

  “We’ll expect no less of you, of course,” Nickademis threw in a hint of sarcasm. As residi
ng doctor with the Mystics, Nickademis had given the prince a hard time upon first introductions. Having dealt with a mind-altering spell for the past several years, it was not until recently that the doctor’s dour manner was finally tamed.

  Wisdom’s cheeks flushed with pride. Praise from the doctor was welcome.

  As do we, came the public thought of Mididus, leader of the Simpletons. The mind-reader stepped from his position as crowd director to join the small band of leaders. His thoughts conversed in their minds instead of speaking aloud, something that was new to everyone. Rumors had spread that the Simpletons were mute. Instead, they conversed solely in thought, making them the best mind-manipulators Wisdom had ever encountered.

  And I thought my kind were mentally powerful, the prince thought. Not anymore.

  A petite figure drew the prince’s attention. With slender frame and dark wavy hair, Glory seemed to ensnare him in a net of charms every time he gazed upon her. He ignored the nudging elbows from his fellow companions, as his growing love interest was too obvious to hide.

  “How’s that for a gardening job?” Wisdom teased.

  Glory gave a wide grin of approval. “Now just keep your other promises, and you’ll be set.”

  Promises – and there were plenty: promises to the keep the clans in order; promises to get the town up and running for business; promises to stop that growing storm coming from the north. Already, it deterred travelers from using the main road. That left the harbor as the safest route. Its source came not from Nature, but from a dark unicorn residing within the neighboring Realm of Sapphire. Dubbed only as horn, its soul resided within another body at present. The storm was just a reminder of its growing power and persistence to claim a new body – his.