Ellida Read online

  A wizardess and a werewolf...

  An ancient alliance...

  An epic battle...

  An immortal love...

  The daughter of a wizardess and a werewolf, Astrid Mohegan is destined to become an Ellida, a powerful force of good and the most treasured member of her clan.

  Jack Canagan is focused on two things: keeping Astrid out of her dangerous and delusional stepfather’s reach and preparing for the battle to bring him down.

  Astrid and Jack must draw their strength from the bond they share. But with the dark power rising, will their love, wisdom and courage be enough to defeat the enemy and protect their people?

  ELLIDA

  THE LANGAER CHRONICLES

  Book Two

  J. F. Kaufmann

  Ellida is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  Copyright © 2015 J. F. Kaufmann

  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—by electronic, mechanical photocopying, recording or otherwise—without prior written permission.

  Cover page design Laura Stobbe

  Formatting by Anessa Books

  Copyright © 2015 J. F. Kaufmann. All rights reserved.

  All trademarks and brands mentioned in this book belong

  to their respective owners.

  This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to where you purchased it and buy your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication

  Kaufmann, J. F.,

  Ellida / J. F. Kaufmann.

  Jacket design: Laura Stobbe

  ISBN 987-0-9937825-4-1 (ebook)

  I.Title.

  www.jfkaufmann.com

  To the blood of my blood: my sons Max and Costa

  Acknowledgments

  Like its predecessor, Asanni, Ellida wouldn’t have been published without the generous help, talents and time of many of my friends. They read it, providing me with valuable feedback; they edited it, proofread it, designed the cover… and they believed in me and supported me all along this wonderful adventure.

  My most sincere gratitude goes to the two strongest supporting pillars of this project: to Sonya Guha-Thakurta, whose friendship, skills and encouragement mean much more to me than I can put into words; and to Laura Stobbe, the designer of Ellida’s striking cover.

  My thanks are also due to Pat Lancaster, Carol Fletcher and Sarah Meilleur for their valuable feedback; to my friend of almost thirty years, Mirko Mlakar, for his assistance with a few Italian phrases in Ellida; and to my dear friend Ada, who loves and feels my books the same way I love and feel them.

  And of course, thank you with a capital T to my sons, Maximilian and Constantine. They had patience and consideration for my passion far beyond their age. Mama loves you insanely, guys!

  J. F. Kaufmann

  A word to my readers

  I hope that the world of Langaer that I had introduced to you in Asanni has become your world as well, and that you find its inhabitants easily imaginable.

  Our consciousness and sub-consciousness both play roles in every creative process. All the supernatural elements aside—Asanni and Ellida are only allegories, representations of this world under the guise of another—my stories are also my intimate confessions. They dig deep into my own life, exploring and exposing some of my own painful experiences I hadn’t known how to deal with until I wrote these books.

  Bringing out my own pains, doubts, losses, joys and victories through my characters, I believe I’ve touched on some common issues as well: parent-child relationships, the significance of family and friends, the need to have our own little sanctuaries; forgiveness, open-mindedness, the importance of accepting ourselves for who we are and, above all, the power of unconditional love. In my books I call it a ‘bond”, but it goes by many different names: soul-mates, two halves of a whole, special connection, and it happens not only between lovers, but also among friends and relatives, and sometimes even complete strangers.

  Being at the same time personal as well as universal and, I do hope with all my heart, entertaining and enjoyable, I’m convinced that my stories will resonate with you.

  Thank you sincerely for reading my books.

  J.F. Kaufmann

  Preface

  Jack

  ASTRID SUDDENLY emerged on the other side of the small town square, flanked between Seth’s guards. Seth was one step behind her, face twisted with madness.

  She was almost within my reach, yet light-years away from me.

  I saw Seth pull a knife and press it between Astrid’s breasts.

  “LOOK WHO’S WITH ME HERE, JACK CANAGAN!!!” Seth yelled in a high-pitched voice.

  Paper-white, her green eyes wide open in dread, Astrid stood frozen.

  “RELEASE HER, SETH, AND YOU’RE FREE TO GO!!! YOUR GUARDS, TOO!!!” I yelled back and started slowly walking toward him, in a desperate attempt to avert his attention from Astrid, if only for a moment.

  “TOO LATE, JACK!!!”

  As if in slow motion, yet with crystal clarity, I saw Astrid’s sharp intake of breath and a jerky movement of Seth’s head. And then, a flicker of a smile, or relief, broke on Astrid’s pale face, as the knife started traveling from her breasts to her throat.

  I sensed the sudden shift of power and I felt the hair stand up on the back of my neck.

  Astrid was ready for action.

  Astrid

  “TOO LATE, JACK!!!” Seth screeched, increasing the pressure of the knife between my breasts.

  I held my breath. Yet, the only sensation on my oversensitive skin was the warm touch of the metal of my necklace. Then I heard a quiet snap.

  The tip of the knife had gotten caught between the teeth of the silver wolf-head pendant and broken off.

  Seth must have realized what had happened because he pulled the knife up until the blade stopped at my throat.

  He yelled so loud that my eardrums cracked. “I would’ve enjoyed killing you much more, Jack Canagan, as much as I enjoyed killing your father, but you’re out of my reach, and she’s here! I’m going down, but she’s going with me!”

  “GO TO HELL, SETH WITHALI!!!”

  My voice roared as my left arm snapped at Seth’s forearm, knocking it off of my throat. The moment the contact between my skin and the knife was broken, I felt the energy shield surround me: almost simultaneously, my mother, Ella, Morgaine and Peyton raised invisible armor over me.

  My right hand stretched out. As if attracted by a strong magnet, Seth’s sword pulled itself from its sheath and flew to my palm. Without a second thought, I slew the vampire standing next to me, and turned to the rest of Seth’s men, cutting my way through them. Ahmed and Darius were fighting their way through the confused guards. Protected by the powerful wizard shield, I was able to fight, staying out of the harm’s reach.

  Jack and James reached us first, finishing off the last few men.

  When it looked like it was almost over, the shield around me suddenly collapsed.

  Seth’s knife found my throat again.

  One

  ASTRID HAD the first glimpse of her birthplace, a bird’s eye view, through the tiny oval window of a five-seat, blue and white Baron 55 aircraft.

  Taking turns, James, Betty and Jack gave Astrid a summary of Red Cliffs’ history, geography and contemporary lif
e.

  NAMED AFTER a dramatic mass of reddish rocks guarding its north side, Red Cliffs nestled in a big, wide U-shaped glacial valley that gradually opened toward the south and east sides in gentle slopes. The Great Orme, a hill much older than the alpine mountains that surrounded the valley from the north, framed the west side of the valley.

  A narrow depression between the two lowest hilltops formed a natural passage, connecting the land of Red Cliffs with Copper Ridge on the opposite side of the Great Orme. Most of Red Cliffs’ farms and ranches, with the sweetest grasses and the best cattle stock in this part of the world, were settled southeast of the town.

  “Remember when I told you about Gelltydd Coch?” Jack said and slid his arm behind the small of Astrid’s back.

  “I remember, of course,” she said, leaning her head on Jack’s shoulder. “That’s the name of the place in Northern Wales from where our first settlers immigrated to America. Gelltydd Coch is our transatlantic main branch, sort of. In Welsh, it means ‘red cliffs’. The Great Orme was named after the hill near Gelltydd Coch. Incidentally, both hills have rich seams of copper ore.”

  Jack kissed her temple. “Well done, Miss Spock. Across in Copper Ridge, the Great Orme is called Halti, after a hill in Finland, from where their first settlers came. Now, I don’t think anyone purposely looked for red rocks and copper-rich hills to make their new home. Leland Brandon, Mark and Sid’s father, always says this place reminded them of the old country so they decided to stay here and build a town.”

  “Red Cliffs is different from any other Western Mountain towns I’ve ever seen,” Astrid said, bending closer to the oval window. She took in a small central town square sporting a tiny city hall, a church with a pointy tower and sharp-angled roof, and several official buildings of mixed architectural provenances. “It looks like a little town in Scandinavia surrounded by an Austrian Alpine village. Charming.”

  “You’re more right than you know, Astrid,” Betty said from her seat across from Astrid. “The majority of Red Cliffers came from Central and Northern Europe, shortly after those first immigrants from Wales. Red Cliffs might look like a mismatch of different styles and epochs, but it’s an accurate reflection of our mixed heritage.” She waved in the general direction of the town below. “A few of the first buildings are still around, like the Church and the courthouse. Goblin’s Hollow, our local drinking hole, still has the original walls. The rest was built as the town grew.”

  The residential part occupied the east side of town, spreading out toward the valley. Most of the houses were timber framed, steeply pitched and shingle-roofed. They varied in size and details, but they definitely took rustic chic to a higher level. They were painted in deep yellow, terracotta, olive-green, and dark orange to balance out the dark roofs, heavy window frames and decorative beams. The homes seemed in harmony with their ambivalent surrounding: the wild mountains to the north and the gentle valley to the south.

  Other houses were brick, with roofs covered with frost-resistant, low water-absorption dark slate, suitable for this climate. They were also of different sizes: some had an impressive square footage, while others were quite modest. In spite of their different appearance, the red brick houses didn’t stand out but rather complimented their timber counterparts.

  The town was established in the early eighteenth century, Astrid learned, when the first group of settlers had arrived, but the recent dwellings, both timber and brick houses, were relatively new, comfortable and modern.

  “Those redbrick houses on your left are among the oldest family buildings,” Betty continued, “but they are constantly being upgraded to the most current standards of living. They were built during the Roaring Twenties and in the early ’30s. The Great Depression didn’t affect this particular corner of the world.”

  She pointed to a three-storey rectangular house with a narrow front and long sides, a sharp roof that would allow the heavy snow loads to slide off, big windows and a white-painted porch. “That’s your house, Astrid. You probably don’t remember it, you were a baby when you left it. It belonged to your parents.” Betty reached out and gently squeezed Astrid’s hand. “We can go there whenever you’re ready. Now, that big one beside it—”

  “Practically in your backyard,” Jack said and kissed Astrid’s hair, “is our house. Yours and mine.”

  Astrid’s heart skipped a beat.

  “Jack, did you tell Astrid how our clan is organized?” James said as the plane made another circle over the town.

  “Didn’t come up on our agenda, Dad.”

  Astrid shook her head. “I know almost nothing about Red Cliffs. I’m sorry.”

  Betty patted her knee. “That’s okay, Astrid. Nobody will hold that against you.”

  “How could you know, sweetheart, when we all did our best to keep you in the dark? You’ll learn, don’t worry,” her uncle said. “See, our clan is formally divided into twelve Houses. Every Red Cliffs resident belongs to one of them. Heads of the Houses are called Captains, and with the Einhamir, they constitute our government, which is called the High Council. As an Ellida, you preside over the Council and you hold nominal, legal and constitutional power.”

  “Dad, don’t scare her,” Jack said and tightened his grip around her waist.

  “So, you’re saying you’re, sort of, prime minister, and I’m, sort of, Queen Elizabeth,” Astrid joked.

  “Not really. Her role is ceremonial. You’re a real boss.”

  A bubble of hysteria rose up in Astrid’s throat. She swallowed hard and blinked several times.

  “James, for heaven’s sake, stop it!” Betty snapped.

  “Dad!”

  “What? What did I say?”

  Betty unscrewed a bottle of water and pushed it into Astrid’s hands. “Don’t pay attention to your uncle. He is over the moon—his niece is coming home—and on top of that, she’s the clan’s Ellida.”

  “Didn’t mean to scare you, sweetie,” James said. “It’s a piece of cake, you’ll see.”

  How would you know? Astrid took a sip. “Tell me something else, Uncle. Are all the members of a House related?”

  “More or less. Division into the Houses has its practical reasons—marriages. We’re not numerous. Marriages within one House aren’t uncommon, but only the Einhamir can approve them, after the Council compares the family trees. We have to make sure that relatives from close genetic pools don’t end up married.”

  “Which House do I belong to? Mohegan?”

  “The Mohegans belong to House Canagan,” her uncle said simply.

  Astrid searched for traces of wounded pride or jealousy in his voice, but couldn’t find them.

  “You and Jack are bond-mates, there’s no barrier to your and Jack’s marriage, though, because—”

  “Close relatives cannot bond.” Astrid finished with a smile. “Jack told me that. Who’s the head of House Canagan, then?”

  “James,” Jack said in the same matter-of-fact tone James had used a moment ago.

  “And you’re above us all,” James said.

  Astrid took another swig of water.

  “Dad,” Jack said in an attempt to divert James’ attention from Astrid and her future role, “I met a doctor in Rosenthal, Ahmed Demmir, Astrid’s colleague. He’s one of us. He’ll probably soon move to Red Cliffs.”

  It worked, at least for a moment. “His name sounds Turkish. There are several werewolf clans in Turkey, but no Demmirs among them. A loner?”

  “Yes. Born as a human. He was a young Ottoman yüzbaşi—a captain—in the Battle of Khotyn, 1621. He was badly wounded and left to die. Woke up as a werewolf. The donor’s unknown. Somebody probably tried to save him.”

  “Or somebody got interrupted at the beginning of a feast. So when is he coming?”

  “Soon, I hope. He’s been a loner by circumstance, not by nature, and he’s tired of it.”

  “Good. Of course he’s welcome.” He turned to Astrid, but before he could say a word, Betty rubbed her arms and sa
id, “It’s chilly here. James, will you please go and fetch my orange sweater? I think it’s in my big black suitcase.”

  “Thanks, Mom,” Jack whispered after James went to the back of the plane. He pulled Astrid against his chest. “Are you okay?”

  Astrid closed her eyes and took a deep breath. The warm current ran over her body, relaxing her tense muscles. “I’m fine,” she said with a tiny smile.

  The plane tilted slightly to the right and began a slow turn. As they neared the ground, Astrid saw a patchwork of hotels, lodges, cabins, chalets, souvenir shops, cafes, food stores…

  “The resort is family-oriented, see the gentle slopes and long trails,” Jack said. “There’re quite a few challenging trails, as well, on the opposite side. I remember you saying you’re a good skier. We can try them together.”

  Jack pointed to the various department stores, food stores and home-improvement warehouses near the outskirts of town. Then he turned her attention back to the picturesque town centre with its numerous family businesses: bakeries, butcheries, ethnic grocery stores, pastry shops, printing shops, cafes, restaurants and post office. Everything a town of that size was expected to have.

  “Where’s the medical centre?” Astrid said.

  “That split-level building with all the windows… there, at the base of the mountain. It’s a small but quite modern medical facility. We have lots of tourists here during ski-season and injuries are common. Our people also need medical attention from time to time, particularly children.”