Secrets of Ravenstone: Keeper of La Tecla (The Key) Book One
ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝟚𝟠

Marxus quickly scampered downstairs barefoot, without tripping, and exiting through the back door leading outside behind the cottage, Axeon lay near the craft, sleeping. As the dragon raised his head, hearing his urgent approach, Marxus requested him to cloak himself and the craft, knowing the vehicle required the engines to run, in order to utilize the cloaking capability.

Axeon bowed his head. Stretching out his left wing, his form slowly vanished, as did the craft, hiding and blending among the natural scenery of the area.

“Marxus?!” Thomas called out.

Backing away, Marxus retreated inside, reciting a quick spell, cloaking their presence. As he, Thomas, Nathan and Anthony stood in the living room, to the naked eye, if anyone were to enter, it would appear as if no one had been staying in the cottage, including the fireplace, that looked dry, as if it hadn’t been recently lit.

“What about the furniture?” Thomas whispered.

Waving his hand, sheets appeared, covering everything, then looking at the Giovanni brothers and Nathan, he placed his index finger to his lips, hearing voices grow closer outside.

“Stand close to the wall in the corner, stay quiet, and do not make a sound.” he spoke telepathically, then receiving no complaint, even from Nathan, they waited silently.

“The tire tracks end here, and they look fresh!” a man barked in a gruff Scottish accent, examining tracks embedded on the grass surface with his high-beam flashlight, leading toward the cottage up head, “It went that way, but there are no signs that it’s left!” he looked at those in his company, then took a quick sniff of the air.

“Maybe they flew in one of those fancy hovercrafts we see in the bloody magazines, you know?” another Scotsman mocked, “Or they flew on a magic carpet.” he chuckled.

“Magic carpet me arse, because whoever destroyed the town, hurt our business, they couldn’t have gone far that quick.” a third Scotsman growled, “Armiforde won’t be pleased when he replaces out.” he too, sniffed the air, “We’ll check that cottage, spread out but be careful…if there is a vehicle, it’s probably cloaked or…” he removed a large machete from beneath his coat, “hidden in the bushes ’round here.”

Strolling toward the cottage, kicking down the door, the six men ransacked everything, pulling the sheets off the couches, then turned them over. Stealing canned goods that had been stocked in the cabinets, as well as a few trinkets laying about, like steel candlesticks, or silver-plated frames that held some value, one of the men pointed toward the stairs in the kitchen.

“I’ll check upstairs, see if there’s anything up there!”

“Mm.” one of the men nodded, then scampered his bulk across the living room and as he grew too close to the fireplace, his paranormal sense of smell caught the lingering musk of other Lycynians. As he stood, gripping his rifle tightly, he turned, but his yellow wolf-like eyes saw nothing, or no one present. Letting out a deep growl, he ignored his paranoia.

Marxus, Thomas, Nathan and Anthony tightly gripped the hilts of their swords in hand, watching as the men paced and moved about, waiting to yield the weapons if necessary. As they studied the men, it was Anthony that took notice they didn’t possess any of the unsettling characteristics of those from the town with no name, these men were different. Gruff mannerisms, dressed in skins, animals claws or teeth hanging around their necks, and carrying axes, swords, machetes and rifles, the six men were Hunters. And Lycynians by the scent.

Looking at Marxus, Anthony reached out telepathically.

“They’re Hunters…and Lycynians.”

Looking at the Italian, Marxus nodded worriedly.

Two of the Hunters heavily stomped up the stairs, kicking in the doors leading to the rooms and bathrooms but found no one hiding in the closets or cupboards. Reaching for the knob of the third bedroom, it was locked.

“This one’s locked.” one of the men grinned, then turned; his large foot kicked the door open, splintering one of the panels and shattering the hinges. Rushing into the room, expecting something worth replaceing, it too, was empty like the others.

Standing along the wall near the window in complete silence, Jonathan and Erik muttered a cloaking chant, watching as six men searched the room. Stepping near us, both Jonathan and Erik stood in front of Sarah and Yzavela, facing them as they protectively placing their hands on the wall beside them. The moment was awkward for Erik and I, but for Jonathan and Sarah it was more comfortable. Glancing over Erik’s shoulder, I watched as the men continued ransacking the room for signs of occupancy then lowering my gaze toward Sarah’s bed, I worried for Zanzabarr who hid under it. Biting my lip, closing my eyes, all I could do was connect to his mind, keeping him calm as I hummed a soft tune he loved so much.

Sarah wanted to say something, but catching Jonathan’s gaze, she listened as he spoke to her telepathically, begging her to remain quiet. Wrapping her arms around his waist, she just leaned in, resting her head against his chest, listening to his heartbeat that she found comforting.

Seeing the men stirring inches away, I grabbed Erik shirt. As I raised my gaze, sharing a moment of eye-to-eye contact, he broke it as the men grew closer behind him.

One of the Hunters overturned one bed, while the other stood near the windows, scanning the empty space along the wall. His paranormal eyes saw nothing, convincing him that there was nothing there, until he caught a faint scent of a woman’s perfume, sweet like roses and lavender. Gripping his machete in a tighter grasp, he turned, swinging open a large closet near the windows, but it was empty except for a few old towels that had seen better days, and sheets.

“What is it?” the other barked loudly.

“I don’t know, I could’ve sworn that I…caught the scent of a woman’s perfume.” the other Hunter answered gruffly with a deep Scottish voice that held an underlying disappointment, “I guess it’s all those bloody flowers outside, eh?” he scoffed as he turned away, leaving the room, “Come on.” he called out for the other man. Stomping down the stairs, he hollered to the others that stood in the kitchen, waiting for them.

“Well?” one of the others wondered, “Anythin’ up there?”

“Nah, not a bloody thing.”

“All right then, let’s get back to camp, Armiforde’s waitin’ to see what we found and you know how impatient he gets.” one of the other Hunters boomed, then turned, mumbling several inaudible words under his breath. Heading through the door, he quickly veered around outback, checking to see if the craft had been parked there but his eyes saw nothing, except for an old, deep imprint in grass. Shaking it off, he followed after his companions.

Sighing softly in relief, all of us waited to move about for we weren’t sure if they could come back for another inspection of the rooms, knowing they had caught my perfume, and that of Sarah’s as well. Sitting on the window seat, I called out to my Zanzabarr who emerged with his tail hanging low, letting out soft whines as he pawed at his muzzle. Scratching the thick fur around his neck, I praised him for his adherence to all of the commands I had given. Removing the muzzle and harness, I, among everyone else, held our breaths hearing footsteps coming back up the stairs. Kneeling alongside Zanzabarr who growled deeply, we watched as shadows lingered in the hall, before approaching closer.

Erik and Jonathan stood in front of Sarah and I, with their hands glowing with defensive magics, then grew relieved as both Thomas and Anthony peeked through the door.

“Whoa, hey…” Thomas held his hands up, “it’s all right.”

“Geez…” Jonathan sighed, lowering his hands, “nex time, let us know yeah, we almost took your heads!”

“It’s not too late.” Erik leered at Anthony who gazed across the room toward Yzavela.

“Are you all right?” the Italian asked her softly.

“She’s fine.” Erik barked.

“Yes, thank you.” I answered bluntly, ignoring Erik, “You?”

“Si.” he nodded then looked at Thomas, “Marxus sent us up.”

“Did they leave?” Sarah whimpered fearfully, gazing through the window, watching as the men and their flashlights slowly disappeared from sight in the distance.

“Yes.” Thomas announced.

“Thomas! Anthony! Are they all right?!” Marxus called out.

“Yes!” the brothers replied.

Turning away, leading them downstairs, the six emerged off the stairs, watching as Marxus stood in the door way, making sure the Hunters were gone.

“Marxus?” I rasped.

Turning, glancing over his shoulder toward her, he nodded.

“We should clean up.” Jonathan looked around at the mess of shattered plates and glasses on the tile flooring. As he, Erik, Sarah and Yzavela began sweeping the floor, Thomas and Anthony reorganized the living room area, putting the large couches and chairs back on their feet, before tossing all of the pillows on their cushions.

Looking at Nathan, Sarah wanted to approach, but he turned away from her, stepping outside, quickly lighting a cigarette.

“Hey, Erik? Jonathan? Can I ask you something?” I looked at them.

“Yeah?” Erik paused, turning to her.

“What’s up?” Jonathan swept the broom while Sarah knelt on the ground, scooping glass and ceramic shards into the pan.

“When you use your magic, it’s so effortless for you, and yes I know you’re both purebloods and all that, but do you know what the extent of your arcane abilities are? Can both of you manipulate elements like some other Demons?”

“No.” Erik shook his head, “We’re not bloody avatars, Keeps.”

“What you see is what you get.” Jonathan grinned teasingly.

“And you?” Erik added arrogantly, “Since you’re a half-breed, what are you capable of?”

I found his question unsettling, for it was how he said it, not necessarily what he said.

“Yes, I’m a half-breed but it seems that I’m limited to fire, and of course both Telepathy and Telekinesis like all of us.”

“Firestarter.” Erik nodded.

“Don’t…call me that!” I frowned, taking another step forward, “And next time, Erik…” I leaned in, whispering so none of the others could hear me, “let me speak for myself.” I referred to the moment upstairs.

Jonathan, organizing plates that didn’t shatter, dropped one. As he peeked over his shoulder, he gave a friendly smile.

“Sorry, slippery little bugger.”

“Everything all right in there?” Marxus approached.

“Is the word THERE the only word in your vocabulary?” my voice couldn’t help but reply, as I turned, catching his gaze.

“Humorous, Little One…” he argued, “very humorous, but go ahead and leave it for the morning, we wake at dawn so get to your rooms and sleep.” he turned, heading outside.

Adhering to his instructions, after putting everything back in their place enough to feel comfortable, we all returned to our bedrooms, hoping to catch some sleep, but after having the Hunters invade our sense of security, no one slept that night.

I laid there, listening as Zanzabarr panted while he stretched out across my feet, having thoughts racing through my mind. I closed my eyes, managing to drift off sleep before Sarah had begun shaking me awake.

“What is it?!” I complained, opening my eyes.

“It’s dawn.” the young woman stood above her, “And Marxus is calling everyone downstairs.” she sighed.

“Wh-why?” I groaned.

“I don’t know, this is Marxus.” she shuffled around the bed.

“EVERYONE DOWNSTAIRS, NOW!” Marxus shouted.

“Geez, what the f*ck got up his a** this morning?!” I tossed the blankets back again, chasing Zanzabarr off the bed.

“Probably didn’t have his bloody coffee.” Sarah rushed to the bathroom, splashing cold water on her face. Putting her boots on, grabbing her bags, she stood by the door, “You coming?”

“Yeah, give me a moment.” I nodded. Watching as she took a step into the hall, disappearing from view, I stood, shuffling toward the bathroom to splash cold water on my face as well. Looking at my reflection, shadows were under my tired eyes, “Ugh…” I huffed, “aren’t you pretty.” I turned out the light, then rushed toward the bed, grabbing my belongings.

“Yzavela?” Marxus called out loudly downstairs.

“Dios mío, ya voy!” I shouted that was I coming. Hearing a set of feet rushing up the stairs, I thought it was Marxus but turning around, there stood Anthony with a charming grin, “Hi.” I smiled.

“Hi.” he shifted his weight.

“Did Marxus send you?” I wondered, laying my bag on the bed, removing Zanzabarr’s harness and muzzle, “Come here.” I beckoned him over, “He’s not going to hurt you, it’s just Anthony.” I listened as he growled at the Italian’s presence.

“No, I was just down the hall when I heard him call for you.”

I nodded with a smile, then reached for Zanzabarr’s leash and my bag, which Anthony offered to carry. Handing it to him, I followed him down the hall, watching as he descended the narrow stairs ahead of me. I thought about asking him about his FANTASY but I figured it was best to leave him with his own thoughts.

“Finally!” Marxus groaned, turning to them, “Can we leave?!”

Nathan, still mute, wrote a note then handed it to Marxus.

The Immortal snatched the note, reading the words that the young man had scribbled down, “What the bloody hell got your balls in a twist?!” and as he frowned, crumbling the note, he leered at the young man, say nothing.

Nathan shrugged, then stepped outside.

“We won’t be taking the van this time, there’s not much road where we’re going since it’s a hiking trail. The booster engine will damage the natural path, not to mention, there won’t be a place to park it once reaching the peak of the mountain.” he announced loudly, then stepped outside, returning the key to its place among the frame.

“So you’re familiar with this area?” Thomas wondered.

“Yes, it’s been a while but yes.”

“Funny, that’s what you said about the town with no name.” Anthony sarcastically grunted, not wanting to remember it.

“He’s right.” Erik mocked, placing his bag at his feet.

“That’s a subject that I will not speak of again, and I suggest that both of you do the same.” Marxus warned the men firmly, “Now grab your bags, and make sure all of you carry one of those.” he pointed toward the kitchen table where swords, daggers, and a bow-arrow set laid sprawled out, “Just in case.”

“Just in case?” Sarah muttered, standing next to Jonathan, “Is he barking mad?!” she frowned, reaching for the bow and its full quiver of red feathered arrows.

“Sarah…” Jonathan turned to her, pulling her close, “enough, please.” he whispered in her.

Pulling away, Sarah said nothing, as she stomped across the kitchen, making her way toward her brother who reached for one of the swords.

“What did I say?” Jonathan wondered, looking around.

“Let it go, mate.” Erik urged, “Let it go.”

“Hurry up!” Marxus called from outside.