Soul Magic Read online

He cleared his throat, wishing he could dispel the awful ache in his chest. And now she wanted his help. Did she mock him? How could she, when all she had done in the past humiliated and wounded him? How much more did she expect him to endure?

  Deliberately unclenching his fists, he spoke his next words with careful dignity, betraying none of his inner turmoil. “Why ask for my help? Why not go to the boy’s father?”

  Her mask, the one he’d once teased her about, slipped. Darrick watched as revulsion and horror and shame flickered across her face, before she schooled her features back to icy coolness.

  “I was raped, Darrick. He took me by force, the eve of our wedding. Caradoc was conceived that awful night.”

  Stunned, he could only stare at her.

  “I could not marry you then,” she said, still staring off into the distance. “I could not let you see my shame.”

  He found his voice, managed to push words past the fury and the hurt. “You should have come to me. I would have avenged your honor.”

  “Honor?” She gave a mocking laugh. “I had no honor left when he was done. All I had – all I have – is my child. My boy. Caradoc. I must find him.”

  He moved towards her. “Alanna, I--”

  She moved back. “Will you help me?”

  He took a great gulp of air, then another, again welcoming the icy bite as it spread through his lungs.

  “Will you help me?” she repeated.

  “There is one thing you have not told me.” Now he closed the distance between them. He took her chin in his hand and, pretending not to notice how she flinched, made her look at him.

  “Who? Who did this thing to you?” By sheer force of will he kept his rage from showing, kept his gaze level and his voice steady. His blood pounding in his ears, he waited to hear her answer.

  The color drained from her heart-shaped face. “Why? Does this matter so much now, when so much time has passed?”

  “Does this matter?” He roared. Releasing her, he stumbled backwards, wiping his hand across his mouth.

  “Darrick--”

  “I want to go down on my knees and howl my rage at the sky and you ask this?” He clenched his fists, keeping himself rooted in place, away from her, not sure if he touched her, he could stop himself from shaking her.

  “I--”

  “Of course it matters. It matters greatly. I want his name.”

  Still she looked uncertain, her lip caught between her teeth. “Darrick…”

  “Give me the name of the man who took from me all that was mine to protect and cherish. Give it to me, so that I may find him. I will rip out his throat with my bare hands.”

  Her eyes widened. She lifted her hand to her throat, straightening her shoulders as if the weight of years had fallen from them.

  “Morfran,” she spat the name, her voice so low he could barely hear her. “Your uncle, the man you now defend Thorncliff against. He was the one who raped me. Your worst enemy fathered my son.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  “Morfran.” The gaze he turned to her looked molten. “I’ll kill him.”

  She said nothing.

  Pain, rage, and an awful sorrow blazed from his eyes. “I’ll ask you again. Why did you not come to me?”

  Truth. Only truth. “After he…” She swallowed. “I could not bear a man to touch me.”

  He frowned. “Even I?”

  “Especially you.”

  For several heartbeats they stared at each other, she trembling, her chest aching as though her heart might surely shatter. She could not tell what Darrick was thinking, only saw the confusion and fury darken his face.

  Emotions she was infinitely familiar with.

  He took a deep breath. Shuddered. Then took another. “From this act of savagery, you bore a child?”

  “A child that I love.”

  He raised a brow and said nothing.

  “`Tis not the boy’s fault.” Fiercely she defended her son. “He is mine. I love Caradoc no matter what the circumstances of his conception.”

  Darrick bowed his head. His shoulders moved. Alanna looked away, trying to give him a small measure of privacy while he came to grips with the truth. Finally, dragging a hand across his mouth, he looked at her.

  “If you do not wish to honor our troth, why come to me now? Many years have passed since we were together.”

  “Wynne bade me to. She said you were my only hope, so I did as she asked. I must find my son.” Though this was the truth, it was not all of it. She looked him in the eye and knew she had to make him see. “Darrick, you are the most honorable man I’ve ever met. I knew if you agreed to help me, you would move heaven and earth to return Caradoc to me.”

  At her words his dark gaze looked even more tortured. “Have you not heard, there in your magic land? Has no news reached you of my family’s ruin? I am a different man since you knew me last, Alanna. I have fought in a holy war and found I was fighting for evil. I have killed men with my bare hands and sword, and still failed to save my brother. I have stolen, I have lied. My word is worthless now. I can be of no help to you.”

  Despair touched icy fingers to her heart. “You must aid me. You are my only hope.”

  “Your only hope?” Bitter rancor soured his half-smile. “I know not what tricks you seek to play now, Alanna. You are Fae. Even with diminishing magic, you are still more powerful than any mortal. Gather an army from Rune. Use all of your magical might. You will regain your son a thousand times more quickly that I ever could.”

  Once, this might have been true. No longer. Such was the depth of her failure to her people.

  “I tried that.” Low-voiced, she could not look at him. “I pooled their magic. When that failed, I commanded they search for my son. I sent them out into the world in groups of three, the better to share their power. Trying to use so much of their magic depleted them. Two nearly died.”

  From outside the wall, a loud crash sounded. The ground trembled. The archers shouted as they loosed the first volley of arrows.

  “The battering ram again assaults my wall.” Darrick

  spun and ran to the stone steps, climbing up to rejoin Geoffrey. Alanna followed.

  The archers readied their crossbows. With a boom the ram struck again. Reloading, the archers shot once more. A rain of arrows picked off two, then three of the invaders. One man died with a scream, his blood soiling the muddied snow. More rushed forward to replace them, even as the archers reloaded the crossbows and fired again.

  Below the men surged with the huge log for another try at his wall. With a crash the ram struck once more. This time, part of the stone seemed to move, though the wall still held. Still, Alanna could see it was badly damaged.

  A few more attempts and the invaders would have access to the keep.

  Darrick spun away. He rushed for the stairs, shouting at the archers to continue to pick off as many men as they could. Geoffrey followed, shooting Alanna a dark look as she came too.

  They reached the courtyard. Darrick shouted orders that the women and children be hidden. A young man scurried to do his bidding.

  To the others, he held aloft his sword.

  “We will fight,” he shouted. Above, busy with their heavy crossbows, the archers continued to shoot. “Ready yourselves.”

  Alanna watched as six men came forward, Geoffrey and five others. The rest of Darrick’s men took up positions near the weakening wall. They brandished their weapons, holding them high and wearing identical grim expressions of resolve. Around Darrick, his men closed in. Back to back they stood, forming a circle that would defend against a threat from any direction. They readied themselves to cut down the first of those who would stream through the now inevitable break in the keep wall. To a man they appeared grimly determined, though the odds were stacked mightily against them.

  “Let me help you.” Alanna strode forward, to stand in front of Darrick.

  “Take shelter with the others.” Still focusing on the gate, he gave the order without looking at h
er. “Unless these invaders are your allies, your life and honor will be forfeit if they find you here.”

  “Nay,” she said, keeping her tone fearless. “If you will not let me help you, I will stay by your side to protect you.” She only hoped she had enough magic remaining in her to be able to protect him.

  Geoffrey snorted. Darrick shook his head, moving aside to allow her into the circle. “You’ll be safer in here. But Alanna, if we fall, you’ll have to protect yourself.”

  “You won’t fall.” She wouldn’t let him.

  They all winced as the thunderous sound of the ram striking again reverberated through the courtyard. The damaged stone buckled, then crumbled in a plume of dust. Three of Darrick's archers fell to their death, two others scrambling to find purchase on the half-gone wall.

  “So quickly,” Geoffrey growled. “I was wrong.”

  Alanna began to reach inside for her magic. She made a low cry.

  “Go, Lady.” Grim jawed, Darrick focused his intent gaze on her. “If you stay, if the metal tip of an arrow finds your heart, you will die as easily as I.”

  “No.” She refused to budge.

  With bloodthirsty shouts, the first of the invaders pushed through the ruined wall.

  Darrick raised his sword, growling his challenge in answer. Beside him, his men did the same, Geoffrey slipping into place at his side.

  The first men came through, moving quickly, unafraid. Then more, and again more, until the courtyard filled with enemy warriors.

  Darrick's small circle stood ready to defend against impossible odds.

  "You will all die," Alanna made one more attempt to dissuade them. “Darrick, let me help you.”

  To a man, they ignored her.

  With a battle cry, the intruders rushed forward. Six, no sixteen, then twenty. Young and old, dark and fair, they scrambled through the broken wall with swords ready. Left to right, they looked then, seeing the small circle of Darrick and his men, they charged.

  A grizzled warrior raised his weapon to cut Darrick down. Darrick parried. From all around, the clash of metal rang out as others ran to join in the fray.

  Rage in his gaze, Darrick swung his sword, out and up, striking a death blow at the warrior’s chest. Soundless, the man fell, his now-unseeing eyes open, life’s blood spilling, crimson mingling with the muddy ground. Seeing Darrick’s features transformed by fury, Alanna wondered if he saw Morfran in every man he fought.

  Sparks. The clang of sword striking sword. The man who fought at Darrick’s back screamed as he died, pitching forward at Alanna’s feet, his blood splattering the side of her skirts.

  No time to think. Alanna spun, throwing up her hands to protect herself. But Darrick deflected the man who would have rushed her. Giving a savage cry, he plunged his sword into his opponent, taking the man’s life with a shudder. The circle of defenders closed ranks, once more protecting her inside them. Darrick pivoted and raised his bloody weapon to block the new warrior who thought to attack his back.

  “Enough.” As she shouted out the word, Alanna murmured her spell, hoping her power would hold.

  The world swirled and went black. The battle - sight and sound and awful horror - all vanished, gone in the blink of an eye.

  Unable to stop the mighty arc of his sword, Darrick pitched forward into empty air. Cursing, he fell to the ground – vibrant green grass instead of the uneven mud of the courtyard, the grass bloodless and unsullied by battle.

  Alanna breathed a sigh of relief, fighting waves of exhaustion. The spell had worked. Magic had taken her and Darrick to Rune.

  Scrabbling to his feet, Darrick kept a tight grip on his sword. “What the--?”

  They stood in a meadow, lush and ripe. To their left the forest of Zanbar loomed, sturdy oaks with trunks as thick as three men towering over lesser pines. To their right were the faint outlines of distant cliffs, the mountains of Kilian. In the sudden – and blessed – silence, the cheerful sound of running water could be heard. Home. Even the air felt different – sweet and heady, each lungful more exhilarating than the last.

  If only she were able to bring Caradoc home so easily, Alanna would be able to smile.

  Taking a hesitant step forward, then another, Darrick shook his head. “Not only has our location changed, but the season as well. This day is no dreary December morning; nay, the bright sunlight carries with it the sleepy warmth of June.”

  Alanna nodded. “Do you not recognize it? It hasn’t been so long since you visited here.”

  Eyes wild, he snarled at her. “What nonsense is this?”

  “Welcome back to Rune, land of Fae.” Alanna twisted the corners of her mouth up enough to hopefully pass for a smile. “We’ll be safe here.”

  “What have you done?”

  Her shoulders sagging despite her best efforts, Alanna inhaled deeply before lifting her chin. “I used every bit of magic left to me to save your life. I’ve brought you through the veil here, to safety.”

  “You what?” he roared. Shock darkened his face. To her disbelief he took a step towards her, his bloodied sword raised. “Send me back.”

  Too tired to flinch, she shook her head. “I cannot.”

  Scowling, he did the same, keeping his weapon firmly in hand.

  Somewhere nearby a sparrow began to sing.

  “My keep.” His voice sounded hoarse with rage. “My men. You must return me at once to Thorncliff. If you do not, my men will die in vain and I will lose everything.” The sparrow fell silent, as though hearing the threat in his voice.

  “I cannot.” She met his gaze directly, knowing her exhaustion showed in the hollows of her cheeks. “I speak only truth.”

  “You brought me here. Send me back.”

  “I do not have enough magic left inside me. Were I to even attempt such a thing, most likely `twould kill me.”

  “You are Fae and do not die so easily, unless metal pierces your skin.”

  “I am Fae, and cannot lie. As for dying, once that might have true. It would have taken the kiss of iron to kill us.”

  Brushing her long, golden hair over her shoulder, she sighed. “As you yourself said, much has changed since we last met. The magic that sustains the Fae has begun to diminish. We are fading away as well. Dying, if you will.”

  “God’s teeth, woman,” he cursed. “If you cannot, then find someone who can. I don’t care how you do it, just send me back.”

  “I will try.” Licking her lips, she sent out a summons for Wynne. “Though I don’t understand why you are so eager to lose your life.”

  “You only saved me to help you find your son.” Snarling the words, he took a step towards her. “I have lost everything that I ever had, everything I ever wanted. Except Thorncliff. My home. Thorncliff Keep is my life. Without it, I have no reason to exist.”

  Steadily, she looked up at him, her chest heaving as she struggled to draw breath. Blackness hovered at the edges of her vision.

  “I’m sorry.” Finality rang in her voice.

  “I will not help you,” he warned. “Not now, not ever.”

  “Darrick--”

  “Enough.” He took a step away from her, keeping his sword point down. “What you did to me in the past was nothing, compared to this. I did not want you to bring me here. I order you to return me to my keep.”

  Fighting exhaustion, she swayed on her feet. “I--.”

  “Return me and I will help you find your son. If I live to fight another day, I swear this to you now. I will bring your Caradoc home to you, no matter what it takes.”

  Shock jolted through her. Her heart skipped a beat, then began to pound. Setting her jaw, she straightened her shoulders and took a deep breath.

  “I will try.” With each breath she attempted to gather strength. She muttered a word and the gentle breeze returned, becoming a gale. Another word, and the bright blue of the cloudless sky changed to steel gray. One last word tumbled from her mouth and they knew again the shuddering of reality, the disorienting whirl of e
arth and air and form.

  The sounds hammered at him first, the clash and clang and grunts and cries - full force, then the bitter smells of smoke and blood and battle. Winter once more, the December air held a damp chill that instantly seeped into his bones.

  He raised his sword again to fight, not knowing if she had returned him to the exact instant of time from which he had been stolen. He stumbled as his vision fogged, then cleared. He saw first the fallen body of the man who had died defending his back.

  Smoke plumed into the sky, thick and acrid. From another part of the keep, he heard shouts and the clang of battle. Here, all was still save the occasional moans of those wounded and dying.

  Pivoting, he saw that one of his enemies had fallen, mortally wounded, and crawled to the edge of the wall to die, where he lay moaning. Darrick spun away; he was of no mind to end the man’s suffering, not now when he had so much at stake.

  In the west, the bright blaze of fire silhouetted the stone of his home. He started forward, then cursed. Alanna’s crumpled body lay near the fallen wall.

  Had she spoken true? Had the final usage of her magic killed her?

  He ran to her. Taking her fine-boned wrist, he felt a pulse, weak and erratic. Alive. He lifted her and slung her boneless form over his shoulder. She weighed less than his armor. Despite the humiliation she’d caused him in the past, he could not simply leave her to die.

  Keeping to the shadows, he ran.

  As he skirted the corner of the building, the sound of battle grew louder. His heart leapt, for the crash of swords meant his men still lived and fought. All was not lost, despite the grim disparity between his few and the size of the small army that sought to destroy his battered keep.

  Alanna stirred against him.

  “What will you do now?” she asked, her voice flat with exhaustion. “There is no way you can win. Not against so many.”

  He ignored her comment. “Can you walk?”

  Without waiting for an answer he set her on her feet.

  “You give me no choice.” Despite her wry remark, her color had returned. She seemed to glow again, as she had when he’d first seen her, softly golden in the violent, smoky air.