WANDERERS 3:
GARDEN OF THE GODS
RICHARD A BAMBERG
Text Copyright © 2016 Richard A Bamberg
All Rights Reserved
Published in the United States of America
This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition, including this condition, being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
Cover art by RAVVEN (www.ravven.com)
ISBN-13: 978-1540302243 (Verðandi Press)
ISBN-10: 1540302245
9876543210:
DEDICATION
This novel is dedicated to source of my love of reading: The Hale County Library, Greensboro, Alabama.
CONTENTS
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
The End
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Thanks to Rene’ and Robert, for their encouragement and their patience.
Chapter 1
Therese
A hand clamped over my mouth rudely shattering my peaceful sleep. I sucked air in through my nose and simultaneously grabbed for the Colt .45 in my saddlebags. I seized the offending hand with my left and tried to push it away. Before my fingers could reach the comforting metal of the pistol, another hand clutched my wrist with an iron grip.
My fingers felt thick cord wrapped around the wrist at my face. I recognized it immediately as the sling Rafe kept on his left wrist. That was when I noticed that I could no longer feel Rafe lying beside me. All this took but a second, and as my eyes opened, I could see a dark shape bending over me.
“Shhh,” Rafe whispered. “Something’s coming, get ready.”
Rafe’s hand moved from my mouth, and he released my wrist.
I finished grabbing the Colt and then threw off the light blanket that had covered us. An overcast blotted out most of the stars. Our fire had gone out, but a few faint embers still glowed in the small fire pit.
I rolled into a squatting position on Rafe’s right and moved my left hand until I felt the material of his leather jacket. A moment later, his right hand found mine. His mind knocked, and I opened mine to his quest. We meshed minds, auras, and emotions in less than a minute. With the meshing, I could see what he saw and hear what he heard. Rafe already had his enhanced senses spell active for immediately the copse we were camping in became nearly as bright as day.
I listened with Rafe’s ears. Except for a distant truck on Highway 287 and the trickle of water in the Canadian River, the night was still.
*What is it?* I asked through our mutual link.
*My ward woke me. Someone is using offensive magic nearby.*
Rafe had already generated a shield around us. It was invisible to normal sight, but through his enhanced senses, I could see the slight shimmer of power that surrounded us.
Rafe was already wearing his leathers; jacket, pants, gloves, and of course boots.
*Where’s Beast?* I asked. *I don’t see him.*
*Still hunting,* Rafe said. *Holster the Colt and get into your leathers, you’ll need them. Then get your crossbow, you may get a chance to try it out.*
He referred to the crossbow he’d taken off the Amazons who had tried to kill us a few days ago. The crossbow was a work of art with decorative scrollwork along its walnut stock, but the bolts made it special. The business ends of the bolts were some kind of magic metal that could penetrate a shield, even Rafe’s shield.
Since our meshing was complete, I was able to release Rafe’s hand without losing our connection. I set Rafe’s Colt on the blanket and quickly slipped into my own boots, jacket, and gloves. We had slept clothed, wearing leather pants and flannel shirts. It was the first time since Rafe took me from the military hospital in San Antonio that we hadn’t been practically nude. We’d needed as much body contact as possible while he used a healing spell to regrow my amputated limbs. Rafe hadn’t kidnapped me, but he did convince me to leave in the middle of the night–wearing nothing but a hospital robe–on the back of his Harley-Davidson. Since then, my life had gone way past bizarre.
I finished pulling my bootlaces tight just below my knees. Dressed for combat in my magically shielded leathers, I transferred the Colt–I didn’t really have a holster for it–to a back pocket. I picked up the elaborate crossbow. While meshed with Rafe I could see a shimmer around the crossbow. He’d put a glamour on it to make it look like a guitar (something a little less likely to draw curious eyes), but when we weren’t meshed to my eyes it still looked like a crossbow since we’d been meshed when he cast the spell. I put my boot (the one with the spectral foot) into the stirrup and pulled the cocking lever back until the string locked into place. Slinging the quiver over my shoulders, I notched a bolt, and waited.
I didn’t have long to wait.
A whooshing noise–it sounded something like a giant potato cannon–came from the direction Rafe was facing. The sky began to brighten. Three glowing red spheres of something arced up from the sparse trees on the south side of the Canadian River.
Rafe raised his right arm, and a light glowed beneath his jacket cuff. I recognized the blue glow as being from his wind tattoo. He stood and pointed toward the spheres that were now falling toward us. Behind his shield, I couldn’t feel the wind, but suddenly the trees near us leaned as if a mighty gale was flowing down the river valley. The spheres began to move off target. They were going to miss us.
The spheres hit about thirty feet to our left,
