Dragonfae & The Soul Catcher (3 page)

Pain throbbed into her hands with the flow of blood. Pins and needles replaced the aching numbness. Thalia lifted her chin. “Will you offer me some privacy?” Her voice had become a rasp. She licked paper-dry lips and coughed.

“No, but perhaps we may find some privacy later.” Erik winked and pulled a small cake of soap from his pocket. “Use the soap.” He eyed her critically. “And don’t think your curses will harm any of us. The High Priest himself blessed us all before our departure.”

What fools you are.
Thalia fought her dehydrated mind and formed a plan. She must find neutral ground. Her spells would not overpower so many men. What she needed was an ally. This man had carnal intent written all over his face. Could she offer herself to him? In truth, she had little else to bargain with to save her life.

“Then at least a strip of linen to dry myself on…and some dry clothes from my chest?” Thalia met his gaze. “I beg you, good sir. I have done you no wrong.”

“And what may I expect for payment, witch?” Erik laughed. “You will welcome me into your arms for a ride in your virginal folds?”

Drawing herself up, Thalia moved spit around her dry mouth. How bad could sex be? The servant girls were always giggling about the size of one knight’s cock compared to another’s. They would lift their skirts for nothing but the pleasure of a man buried deep inside them. She stared at the river for some moments before turning slowly back to Erik.

“Yes, if you guarantee to feed me, let me ride in the wagon and deliver me alive to my destination…wherever that may be.”

Erik scratched the dark stubble on his chin. “Now let me think. That is such a long list for something I could take for free.” He stared at Thalia’s exposed flesh and licked his lips. “Then you must agree to give yourself freely as many times and for as long as I decide.”

 
Gods give me the strength to endure.
“Aye, I agree to your terms but with one proviso.”

“And what, pray tell, is that, witch?” Erik raised an eyebrow.

“Allow me to brew herbal tea to prevent me from conceiving a child.”

“Agreed.” Erik waved her towards the river. “Bathe. We will make camp here for the night.”

Holding her head erect, Thalia walked towards the river. The grassy bank dipped down to join a strip of golden sand littered with brown leaves and sticks. The fast-flowing river ebbed at this point. The main surge skirted a row of large, granite rocks to form a small pool. Without a backward glance, she marched into the river. The cool water burned into the numerous cuts like boiling oil. She gasped, biting back a sob. With jerky movements she pushed her ripped dress off her shoulders and stepped free of the skirt. The dress floated away to join the rush of water in the river. The silk billowed, forming a yellow sail, like a half-sunken boat. Thalia dropped under the water.
How easy it would be to drown and be free of this nightmare.
Old Nell’s face drifted into her mind. “
Magyck is a gift from the gods, my child. They have purpose for you, so learn your craft, and wait for the call.”

Thalia pushed hard with her feet and broke the surface, gasping for air. Exhausted, she staggered to the bank, and sat swaying on a rock. Her shift and drawers clung to her body, offering no modesty. She glanced at the soap in her hand—her own personal soap. Erik had stolen it from her room, no doubt. The rich, lavender fragrance rose up in the air. With a growl of disgust, she lifted her head to see the man watching her closely.

Angry, Thalia rubbed the soap through her hair and over her body. She rinsed and watched the prismatic coloured bubbles dance away as if racing to the sea. A sparrow dropped onto the sand and hopped to the edge to take a drink. The rushes moved slightly and orange eyes peered out between the green spears. Brew. The cat’s ears were stuck flat against his head. His eyes became slits just before he pounced. The sparrow flew away with seconds to spare, chirping its annoyance.

Erik arrived with a crash, sword drawn, and his hawk-like eyes scanning the bulrushes. Thalia covered her breasts and glared at the man. “Do you plan to kill me now?”

“That black beast has shadowed my every step.” Erik swung around and glared at Thalia. “I will spit-roast him and enjoy his flesh.”

With a sigh, Thalia dropped her arms, aware that her nipples pressed hard against the wet fabric of her shift.
Look at me, fool. I will not allow you to kill my friend.
She met Erik’s gaze. The man’s Adam’s apple moved up and down. His dark gaze fixed on Thalia’s breasts and drifted down to her wet drawers. The pulse in the side of his wide neck thumped wildly.

Thalia cleared her throat. “Is there something you desire?”

“Do not tempt my patience, witch.” Erik swore and turned to collect a bundle of cloth from the bank. “Here.” He thrust a strip of linen towards Thalia. “Take off those wet things and dry yourself. I have left clothing on the bank. There will be a bed for you in the wagon. Shortly, I will bring you some food.”

Heart pounding, Thalia stepped from the river. From Erik’s stance, he had no intention of leaving. She drew a deep breath and peeled off her wet clothes. She had never had a man lay eyes on her naked body before. Her face grew hot. She trembled and lowered her lashes.

“You are soft and rounded.” Erik grasped her chin. “But small—far too small for a woman of eighteen summers. It is no wonder the king sought no match for you.” He cupped her breast, sighed and turned away. “Wait in the wagon for me, witch. I have left a vessel for your herbal tea. I suggest you make use of it immediately. I am not a patient man.”

Sick to the stomach, Thalia dried off and dressed in the thin, cotton nightgown Erik had provided. She glanced down at her torn slippers and kicked them into the river. She collected a bunch of water lilies and searched the riverbank for other common herbs she could use. Unfortunately, the complicated spell would deplete her small cache of magyck. Stuffing the fragrant leaves into her wet shift, she made her way back to the wagon. Catcalls and whistles from the men followed her. She climbed inside, sat on the pile of animal skins, and began to tremble.
I may well die this night.

The sound of Erik’s voice brought her upright. She reached for the herbs, pressed the mixture into the small metal container and whispered the spell. “Cymbeline, cast your grace upon this brew to prevent a child born of pain and hate. As so I say, so mote it be.”

Exhausted, she thrust the container at Erik the moment his head pushed through the canvas opening. “Here, cover the herbs with hot water and leave them to steep. I will require but a few sips each day.”

“Very well.” Erik put a plate of food on the floor and handed her a jar of goose grease. “Use the grease to make my way easy, witch.”

* * * *

Thalia sipped the herbal tea. The second she had put down the cup Erik grasped her nightgown in his large hands and tore the garment, ripping it to shreds. The huge man fell on her with a wicked grin. His strong fingers closed around her hands, forcing them above her head.

I will survive this… I must.
She shivered at the evil in the man’s expression. Closing her eyes, Thalia drew up her last reserve of magyck and bound it around her heart, to protect her love of all things pure.
I am not here. I am in a rose garden and I will look up to see you, my beautiful Nightdragon, soaring high in the midnight sky.
The Dragonsong flowed into her mind and, seeking comfort, she sang the words.

“You will not sing, witch.” Erik slapped Thalia’s face. “Just lie there and be nice.”

Thalia spat blood in his face. “I curse you and all your men’s families for eternity. As I have said, so mote it be.”

Without warning, the man’s giant fist landed on her temple. In a burst of bright light, all pain vanished. In that moment, Thalia embraced the sanctuary of darkness
. Goddess, I beg you…take me across the veil.

* * * *

Drakka

In the palace library, Lumos staggered against the wave of panic emanating from the Nightdragon. The book in his hand dropped to the floor. He grasped the back of a chair for purchase. “
Gods, what is it now?”

“Our mate is in danger, hanging to life.”
The Nightdragon’s emotions flooded over Lumos. “
This is your fault Lumos—if you had allowed me flight, I would have located her.”

The intensity of the Nightdragon’s grief pierced Lumos’ heart. Guilt soured his belly. He had disregarded the precious gift bestowed by the goddess, ignored his dragon’s advice, and now, in some gods’ forsaken realm, his mate fought for her life—alone. He had heard nothing—no song or plea for help had drifted into his consciousness.

“Calm yourself and tell me how you came by this information.”

“The song was less than a whisper but her fear crushed my heart.”
The Nightdragon speared into Lumos’ mind. “
Our mate is a mortal witch.”

A witch? Grief hammered Lumos. Unable to stand a moment longer he dropped into the chair. He fought to calm the dragon. The beast rippled beneath his skin in an effort to force the change. “
Does she have a familiar—a cat, perhaps, or a beast close by you may contact?”

“
I’m seeking her familiar. Hold your questions, Lumos. Yes, there is a cat close by in great distress. I will mindspeak with the creature.”

A familiar ache closed around Lumos’ heart. The dragon had spoken the truth. His desire for other females had vanished. Over the past few days the loneliness surrounding him had become unbearable. The voice of his mate lingered in his mind. The need to have her close had become excruciating after finding a silk scarf upon the palace steps. The scent infusing the yellow silk had bewitched him and yet carried no mark of the owner. The Nightdragon had roared in triumph, declaring the feminine allure as belonging to their mate. If Thalia had entered Drakka, the Nightdragon would have recognised her immediately. They had searched for many miles and had found no trace of her. Of late, nothing made sense.

Every waking hour Lumos had listened intently for any trace of the Dragonsong, his world disintegrating by the hour. Taking the king’s advice he had concentrated his thoughts on the battle to come, and had spent most of his day training the young Dragonfae males in how to fight with sword or magyck. He had worked as if in a trance, the thought of finding his mate consuming him.

“
Dragon?”

“
The cat goes by the name of Brew.”
A wave of terror swept through the Nightdragon. “
Six mortal men—Nomags—have raped Thalia. She is barely alive. The men are moving her to a place of banishment.”

Anger raging out of control, Lumos jumped to his feet and spread his wings. He tightened his sword belt.

“
I will kill the Nomag scum for touching Thalia. I will show no mercy and make them suffer. We leave at once.”

“Brew is a cat, Lumos, just a cat. He has no knowledge of realms or distance.”
The Nightdragon gave a long, defeated sigh. “
I have no idea of Thalia’s location other than she is in a Nomag realm. The cat will be our guide. He is following some distance behind the wagon, although, at this time, he has no idea of his direction.”

Magyck crackled in the air, sending blue streaks in all directions. With a howl of anguish Lumos punched the wood panelling. The dark surface cracked, splintering into jagged shards of oak. An overwhelming fear curled in his belly.

“
We must put the safety of our mate in the paws of an ignorant cat. Gods, dragon, have you lost your wits?”

“It is more efficient to wait for a direction.”

“No, it is not.”
Lumos paced up and down the room. “
Ask the cat if he knows the name of the king of the realm, or the name of the man who banished Thalia.”
Long minutes passed. Lumos’ skin burned, sweat trickled off his chin and steam poured from his nostrils. He removed his jacket and flung it over a chair.

“
Damn it, dragon—how much longer?”

“The king is Garro. The man Thalia calls Father. This man is responsible for her banishment.”

Lumos turned towards the rows of bookcases. He raised a hand and a large leather-bound volume floated from a high shelf to land softly on the table. The pages turned swiftly then stopped. Lumos scanned the page. He ran a finger down the list of Nomag realms. Kings with the name of Garro ruled three realms, Anast, Allerie, and Broclarre. Lumos rubbed the back of his neck.

“It is six months to the challenge and these realms are in opposite directions. Cast out your mind, dragon. See if you can find anyone with knowledge of these realms. We could travel through a circle of light with speed.”

Minutes ticked by before the Nightdragon responded. “
There is no one to guide us into those realms. We must use the Gates.”

Lumos growled. Steam flowed from his nostrils.
Damn!

“What ails you Lumos?” Lucinda peered through the library door. “You have been beastly of late.” She waved a hand towards the wall. “There, I have repaired the damage. Now, tell me why you have ignored every Faerie’s offer to share your bed?”

Lumos turned to Lucinda. The Faerie held as much allure as a bronze statue. Since hearing the Dragonsong no female had beguiled him with her charms. “What I do does not concern you. In fact, I’m leaving Drakka for a while.” Lumos met Lucinda’s sullen pout. “I’m going in search of my mate and her name is Thalia.”

“A mate? Gods, Lumos, you have to be joking.” Lucinda’s mouth turned down at the edges. She moved to Lumos’ side and peered at the open page. “Will you return in time for the challenge?”

Lumos raised an eyebrow. “Aye, I will.” He closed the book and sent it back to the shelf. “I must leave at once. I would ask you to give a message to the king when he returns from hunting. Inform him I’m travelling to Anast and Allerie. The journey will take me two months. If I haven’t found Thalia, I’ll return home and wait until the next full moon to replenish my magyck before continuing my search in Broclarre.”