Free Sorceress (Book 2) by Jim Bernheimer Page A

feared what would be left of him if he survived.
     
    Something prodded Majherri. It was not a gentle touch either. There was a sense of urgency to it. His eyes struggled to focus and his entire body felt both sore and numb at the same time.
    Awareness returned. It was dark outside. He was still on the ground. He wondered how long he’d been there.
    Cyemma hovered above him. She nuzzled him impatiently.
    “Majherri? Majherri! Are you well?”
    “I’m still alive?”
    “Yes,” she answered, but the way she said it showed that the female was reluctant to say something.
    “What is it, Cyemma? You’ve never been one to hold back. Whatever you must say, it is best said now.”
    “Your coat. It’s turned black! By all the ancestors! What did your rider do?”
    It took a concentrated effort and a full minute to rise. He felt stronger with each passing moment. Considering the pain he’d been in, there was no conceivable way he should be alive. Yet there he was.
    Turning to the anxious female next to him, he said, “I fear she has sought a deeper connection to the abomination’s heart and it has affected me as well.”
    Majherri raised his left foreleg and, even in the nighttime, he could see that the hairs on his leg were different...darker.
    “So it is all over my body? Is my horn still white?”
    It was, but it remained cracked. Danella’s actions hadn’t fixed that.
    Cyemma circled and closely inspected him. “Your mane is still white also, but everywhere else is as the night. Are you still yourself?”
    He picked up on her fearful tone. Her question was well founded.
    “I believe so, but I won’t be sure until Danella returns. If this has happened to me, what has become of her?”
    “I don’t know, Majherri! Many humans were seen fleeing the large tent after you collapsed. This is exactly what I feared would happen when you said we should be resisting our riders! You never listen. That’s what your problem is!”
    “Calm down,” Majherri said. He knew the female was working herself into a complete frenzy and doubted his words would make a difference.
    “What if the others decide to do what your rider has done? What if we all end up just like you? We will be condemned, doomed, thrice cursed!”
    “Cyemma!” he snapped. “Stop acting like a hysterical filly!”
    Immediately, she fell silent at his outburst. Unsure of what to do next, he moved closer to the attractive unicorn, brushing his face against her neck and trying to calm her. She was rigid at first, almost fearful of his touch, but after the first few caresses, Cyemma responded. She pulled away and touched the tip of her horn to his and traced the channels and grooves. It was a very intimate gesture and coming from her, particularly strange.
    “What are you doing, Cyemma?”
    “Your scent has changed, Majherri,” she stated and placed her face against his once more.
    “How so?” he asked.
    “It entices me,” she answered and he felt her inhale deeply, nostrils flaring. “It calls to me.”
    Uncertain at this sudden transformation in Cyemma, Majherri sniffed the air and smelled the signs of Cyemma’s state. “Pity that mating season is over then. Perhaps you should leave? I would, but Danella’s compulsion forces me to remain.”
    Cyemma didn’t answer with words. Instead, she continued moving about him and brushing against his side, almost as if she were in a trance. The way she acted was like a female at the peak of mating season.
    “We’re not on the Sacred Isle,” he said in protest. “Mating here is...not possible.”
    Cyemma demonstrated that she was no longer interested in discussion. That in and of itself bothered him, but it was only a minor annoyance. Despite everything he’d just been through, her scent and her actions invigorated him in ways he too was not prepared for.
    Before he even realized what he was doing, he began actively participating in the timeless mating ritual.
     
    After Cyemma had left, or more