Blood Solstice: Part Three in the Tale of Lunarmorte Read Online Free

members of the Daylight Coven and hiding from
Midnight. He thanked the gods each day for being one of the few
left within the supernatural world who was not bound by the trace
magik. They were at war in truth now. And rather than the trace
being a helpful weapon, Kirios believed it was the unbreakable lock
keeping a tight leash on the existence of the war. Despite his
bitterness, his misgivings, Kirios’ curiosity got the better of him
and he found himself wanting a glimpse of the Midnight Coven and
their impressive organisation. They had set themselves up in
Brundisium on the South Eastern coast of the boot of the Roman
Empire… it was a chief port of embarkation for Greece, an excellent
place to lay traps for ‘lesser’ immortals; more than that, they
could enlist magiks to their cause.
    Kirios shifted slightly and winced at the scrape of stone on
his head. A warm gooey feeling let him know he had cut his head
open again. Damn his curiosity. It was why he was here, trapped. He
was supposed to consider himself lucky. Galen’s son had remembered
him and his father’s wishes and ordered him to be imprisoned and
starved, but not killed. Ye gods but what was the difference
between the two?!
    How many years had he been here? He was too weak to have even
grown into madness. Perhaps madness would have been more
entertaining than just sitting here recounting the last few hundred
years over and over and over…
    And then there were the stories he heard filtering down from
above this hole he was stuck in. with the gods out of reach, the
war was growing more aggressive.
     
    ***
     
    A lot of bellowing and cursing alerted Kirios to people coming
down into the caverns they called a prison.
    “ I wasn’t trying to escape!” a voice cried in outrage.
Grunting and shuffling followed, before Kirios watched, wide-eyed,
as a young magik was brought towards his cell by two
others.
    They frowned at one another. “Are we sure we should put him in
here with that creature?”
    “ There are no other cells available. Anyway, look at him. He
cannot even move.”
    “ Hmm, fine.”
    And with that the magik was thrown into the cell with the
force of their powers and bound by the spell that kept Kirios from
touching the space between his cell and the exit. Not that he could
move.
    The magik grunted and watched them warily as they turned and
left. He said not a word for what seemed like forever before
turning to Kirios with a strange smile on his face.
    “ I’m sorry it took me so long to see you, my son.”
    Kirios shook his head, not understanding. Then the magik
sighed, his eyes full of sadness. “What a mess they have made of
you.” He shuffled closer so that he sat by Kirios’ side.
    “ Who are you?” Kirios managed to croak, proud of himself for
remembering how to make his mouth form words.
    “ Around here they just call me the Prophet.”
    He raised an eyebrow in question and the Prophet
grinned.
    “ I am a seer.”
    Kirios almost choked. This magik was a
Cassandrian?!
    Cassandrians were prophets, magiks whom Athena, wisest of the
gods, had favoured at birth. There were few of them, and as the war
had grown steadily more aggressive, they were fought over fiercely
as prizes. Just as the Cassandrians were being killed and fought
over, so were the Asclepians – magiks who were descendants of a
witch who had once been healed by Asclepius. His powers of healing
and bringing those souls lost to the Underworld back from the dead
had worked its way into the magik’s blood and passed down through
her bloodline all through Gaia’s will.
    So rare were Cassandrians and Asclepians, Kirios had never met
either before.
    “ I am a Midnight,” the Prophet told him with a bitter twist to
his lips. “Unlike you, I was not lucky enough to be born without
the trace. You are among a rare few yourself now. And in four
hundred years’ time you will be the only supernatural who is not
bound to the trace.
    Kirios shook his head, confused, unsure