Fiery Fate (4 page)

Garick was staring at him. “What is it?”

“Nothing.”

A frown creased Garick’s forehead. “You were trying to connect with Solara, weren’t you?” If he admitted to that, then Garick would know something intimate had transpired between him and Solara. “No. I am simply frustrated.”

Guilt assailed him at having to keep his true thoughts from Garick, yet he would not compromise Solara by revealing what had happened between them.

Garick eyed him as if he suspected Roarke was lying, yet he simply shook his head and nodded. “Take some of the guard and search outside the castle.”

Relieved at being allowed to do something productive instead of standing around, Roarke assembled a contingent of guards and rode out of the castle, determined that he would not return without Solara.

They rode in silence, Roarke leading the way into the western forests. The density of the forest created a wall of trees and sharp branches—no hope of finding a trail or to even know if someone had passed through there.

Beneficial as a protection around the castle, the thick forest prevented their enemies from using this venue to launch an attack. While one or two people could make their way through here, it was unlikely an entire army could. The trees grew thick here, almost too thick to guide the horses through. After awhile they stepped off and tethered the horses, then wove their way through the dense forest on foot.

Thick roots lined the forest floor, rising up from the ground and making travel precarious. Thin birch trees with low-hanging branches swiped at his face. He muttered a curse at having to look both down and up to ward off either a root or a tree branch.

At least Solara’s red wings would stand out against the light-colored trunks of the trees. If she were even in there.

His mind strayed often to what had happened between him and Solara last night. Guilt mixed with a heady pleasure constantly interrupted his thoughts. The way he had left things with her—letting her believe she didn’t matter, that she had to marry the southern king—was wrong. He could have taken time and care with his words, instead of letting his frustration answer her questions.

No, he could not ask for her. He had no right, he was not a king. The stricken look on her face when he’d dismissed her was painful, and yet he could not help but hurt her. What he said was truth. She would not, could not, ever be his. There was no point in telling her how he really felt about her. It would only have made her departure today more difficult, for her as well as for him. Better that she leave hating him. At least then he would know her heart would be clear when she reached Greenbriar.

Thoughts of Solara lying in the arms of Braedon of Greenbriar sent his blood boiling. He forced the visions aside so he could concentrate on finding her.

And when he found her, he would take her to another man.

No! Stop this. She does not belong to you, and she never will. Your fate lies down a different path, not with Solara.

His mind told him this, yet his heart refused to believe.

By early the next morning, they had scoured acres of forests and miles of steep, rugged cliffside. No sign of Solara. Roarke was loath to return to Winterland and have to tell Noele that her sister could not be found, but there was no recourse. He turned the troops around and headed back to the castle.

Where could she be? If the wizards had her, surely she would have opened herself telepathically, if not to him then definitely to her sisters. And yet not one of them felt the connection.

Unless she was already—

No. He refused to believe that. Even if they had kidnapped her, they would not have killed her. Taken her magic, yes, but the wizards typically left their captives alive. Without a magical soul, but alive nonetheless.

And in the transfer of magic he’d have felt her. He was sure of it. One thing he knew about Solara was her strength of will. She’d have fought to the death rather than give up her magic or any part of herself.

Despite the early hour, Winterland was a bustle of activity. Roarke dismounted and immediately set off for the hall to find Garick and Noele.

A half-dozen sets of hopeful eyes settled on him as he pushed open the door. He walked toward them as if in slow motion, wanting to delay the inevitable.

It didn’t matter. Noele’s lashes draped over her cheek and a single tear fell. She knew.

“You didn’t find her.”

Garick’s statement was more of an answer than a question. Roarke had never felt more inept, had never felt like such a failure. “No, I did not.”

“This makes no sense,” Noele said, swiping at the tear. “She wouldn’t have left on her own. If the wizards took her she’d have opened herself up so one of us could sense her. Unless she’s—” Noele stopped herself from saying the word Roarke had refused to think about. But the stricken look on her face told him she’d considered it.

“No. It can’t be. I will not even think she could have come to fatal harm.” Her eyes wide and filled with tears, Noele swept from the hall, Elise and Mina following.

“What next?” he asked Garick.

“Braedon will have to be told. He is expecting his bride-to-be, and custom dictates that she either arrive on time, or an emissary arrive explaining why she has not come forth.” Roarke sighed. Not only did they have Solara’s safety to consider, but also the potential of a breach of custom, putting the relationship between the southern king and the faerie of D’Naath in jeopardy. Uniting all the lands north and south with D’Naath was paramount to developing a stronghold against the wizards.

“Aye. What would you have me do?”

“I will take half the guard and travel to Greenbriar. You must remain here and guard Winterland, and keep searching for Solara.”

“And when she is found?” Roarke refused to consider “if”.

Garick shook his head. “Hold her here until I return. You cannot escort her to Greenbriar with a contingent of guard. If I am to travel there, it would leave Winterland vulnerable to attack.”

“Who from the faerie will you ask to take with you?”

“I will go.”

Roarke turned at the sound of a small voice. Trista stood behind him, slowly fluttering her green and gold wings. A spot of color darkened her cheeks.

“You are volunteering to act as emissary for the faerie?” Garick asked.

Trista nodded and moved forward. “Aye. “

“Why?”

Something was wrong. Trista refused to meet Garick’s eyes. Roarke had never known her to be shy. In fact, she was the boldest of the sisters. “I merely wish to assist you, Garick. And my sister, of course.

Plus, as we will pass through D’Naath, I will alert our parents to Solara’s disappearance. They will want to know so they can search for her there.”

“So be it.” Garick stood and whispered to one of the guard, then faced Trista. “Prepare yourself to leave by tomorrow morning.”

Garick left the hall and Trista made to do so, but something in her manner made him curious. “Trista, before you go I wish to have a word with you.”

She halted and turned. “Yes, Roarke?”

“Do you know something of Solara’s disappearance?” Her golden eyes widened and she shook her head, her wings flapping so furiously they created a draft around him. “Oh, no! Nothing at all, I swear it! I wish merely to help you.” Her denial broke too quickly from her lips, making Roarke suspicious of her intent. Trista was the trickster, the devious one, according to stories Noele had told them. Always one to play games, she never took anything too seriously. Surely she wouldn’t think of doing anything to upset the delicate balance of the kingdoms.

“Make sure your intent is honorable, Trista. There is much at stake here.” She nodded soberly and fluttered up the stairs to the chambers.

Perhaps he’d misread her. She seemed genuinely concerned for her sister, and yet something in her manner led him to believe she was holding back. Had Solara told her what happened between them? Did Trista harbor some ill will towards him because of what he had done with Solara?

Ridiculous. He was merely worried for Solara’s safety, much the same as he would be for any inhabitant of Winterland. Delving into Trista’s every action was unwarranted. She knew nothing.

Roarke sat and contemplated additional areas he could search for Solara. This mystery of her disappearance became more vexing by the minute. She could not have been kidnapped by the wizards.

Even if they had rendered her unconscious, her powers of telepathy would have reached her sisters. Or perhaps, he hoped, to him.

Something was not right. He felt responsible for her disappearance. A vague uneasiness had settled within him and refused to let go.

He had to find her.

* * * * *

That, and she had a secret that she now could not tell her husband, for fear he would not make the journey and jeopardize the faerie treaty with Greenbriar. A joyful secret that would have to wait.

“I will miss you, my husband.”

Garick turned warm gray eyes on her. “And I will miss you, my wife. Who will warm my bed at night?” She heated under his penetrating gaze. “And who will warm mine? ‘Twill be many a cold night until you return.”

He gathered her into his arms and pulled her close. She laid her head on his broad chest, comforted by the steady beat of his heart. Garick tipped her chin up so she could look at his face. “My love will warm you in my absence. My heart always remains by your side.” She never knew she could experience love such as this. All her trepidation about marrying a man she had not chosen had flown away in a winter breeze when she realized her destiny. She loved Garick like she never thought she would be able to love. And now that love had borne fruit, and she was anxious to tell him her news.

But the news would wait. It would have to wait. She had to remain behind while he made the journey.

His queen could not act as emissary for the faerie people. “How long will you be gone?”

“A fortnight at least, maybe more. Since we will pass through D’Naath, Trista and I will break the news to your parents. Travel itself will be seven days there and seven days back. Delivering the news to Braedon will not take but a day.”

“What will you tell him?”

“That Solara has been delayed. That she is missing and we fear she has been kidnapped. I will tell him the truth.”

Noele prayed the truth would be enough to satisfy him, that he would be willing to wait until Solara was found.

“You are a wonderful diplomat, Garick. You will find a way to convince him to wait.” Garick pulled her closer and touched his lips gently to hers, then enveloped her in a kiss that curled her toes and made her wings flutter madly.

“Make love to me, my faerie queen. Give me a memory to last a fortnight.” Her heart soared, her body awakening with a passion that could never be quenched as long as Garick held her in his arms. “With pleasure, my king.”

“Roarke! Roarke, where are you?”

Noele’s cries echoed in the courtyard where he stood with the guards. Roarke sheathed his sword and raced up the stairs to the hall. The doors were open and he hurried in, running to her side. “What is wrong?”

She waved a crumpled paper in front of him. “I cannot believe this was not discovered when we searched the castle, but Isolde found it when she was sweeping under my bed. It must have fallen from the bedcovers.”

He took the paper and opened the note, scanning the words written in faerie script.

My dearest sister, Noele,

I will not abide by this decision which has been made for me. Forgive me. I realize what is at stake but I simply cannot be led blindly where I do not wish to go. I must be able to make my own choice. My mind is a mix of confusing thoughts, and I depart now to
be alone. I need time to think. Do not fear for me,
as I will be safe and will return soon.

With my love, Solara.

The worry that had held a tight grip on him for two days was washed away by a cold anger at the havoc Solara had created. “Is she insane? On a childish whim she decided to run off and pout instead of facing her fate like a woman grown?” He thrust the paper back into Noele’s hands and turned away.

Frustration ate at him and he wanted to crush something with his hands. Anything to take away the anger over Solara’s idiotic act of selfishness.

Noele touched Roarke’s arm. “This is so unlike Solara. She knows her duty, has always known it. No, she was not fond of the idea of marrying a man she never met, but she knew it was her fate and she was determined to see it through.”

Roarke snorted and pointed at the note. “Apparently she changed her mind.”

“Something must have happened. It had to have been monumental for her to run off like this. ’Tis not like her at all.”

Her words gave him pause, forcing his anger aside. Had the “something” that happened been him? Had he pushed her beyond her ability to face her fate? Did her feelings for him run so strong that she would give up her destiny rather than marry a man she did not love?

More importantly, how did he feel about her decision, if that was the case? Before now he refused to face his desire for Solara. From the moment he met her he’d felt their connection. No woman had ever touched his emotions as she had.

His feelings didn’t matter. Despite what his heart told him, she still was not his. She belonged to Braedon. She knew that as well as he and it was ridiculous for her to play such a game. “Do you have any idea where she might have gone?”

Noele shook her head. “No. And she clearly has blocked all of us out of her thoughts. You searched the forests well?”

“Aye.”

“Might I suggest you search again? I am convinced that is where she is hidden, as the forests would give her the comfort of home. She would wish to be near D’Naath, but would not travel so far by herself.”

“I have already thoroughly searched the forests. She was not there.” Noele’s lips crooked into a smile. “Did you look up?”