Soul Magic (4 page)

             
“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 earth 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.  

             
“You look as though you will live.”

             
“I feel…” holding out her hands before her, she studied them.  “better.”

             
Mayhap he could find a use for her yet.

             
“Your magic – has its power been restored?”

             
Her eyes widened, then narrowed to slits of green.  “Wynne helped me.  Without her aid, I could never have done it.”

             
“I need you to use it again.”

             
She drew a hissing breath.  “Truly you must wish me dead.”

             
He waved a hand.  “Nay.  Since you have showed you can use it, I would find a way to keep Thorncliff.”

             
“And your life.”

             
“And my life.  Wynne’s power must be great, for you have magic still within you.  I can sense it, I can see it.    Use it now to help me.”

             
She shook her head.  “I--”

             
Urgency mounting, he glanced around them.  Still they remained hidden, sheltered by shifting shadows from the marauding invaders. 

             
“Remember your own words - if I am dead, I cannot help you regain your son. Cast a spell.”  He swallowed, desperate enough to try anything.  “Use the magic. Help free my keep.”

             
“Darrick, I don’t know—”             

             
The sound of running footsteps, the clash of blades. A sharp cry, an agonized scream, and the triumphant roar of several men, most likely not his own.

             
“That came from around the building.”  Darrick took a step towards the noise, faltered, and looked once more at the small woman beside him.

             
“Do something," he ordered.  "I have agreed to help you, if I live.  If you want me to make it through this, cast a spell, bring the storm, do something!"

             
She chewed her bottom lip.  "Well you know that I am forbidden to intercede in the battles of humankind.”

             
"You offered once. I care not for your rules. Help me."

             
“There will be a price.  For both of us."

             
"I will pay it."

             
“Be careful of what you promise.  You’ve already said you would help me.”

             
“God’s teeth, woman--”

             
A huge man, bloodied sword at the ready, staggered around the corner. 

             
“Look out.”  Instinctively Darrick sprang to defend her, even as the man growled and lunged forward. 

             
Darrick raised his sword.  The giant swept him away without a second glance, sending his weapon clattering.  Reaching Alanna, he grabbed the front of her glimmering gown and lifted her high off the ground.

             
Scrabbling to his feet, Darrick went for his sword.  Behind him, Alanna cried out, fury dark in her voice.

             
The air vibrated.               
Magic
.  He’d been right.  Whatever Wynne had given her must have been powerful indeed.

             
The earth trembled.  The sky darkened.  Thunder boomed and lightening flashed.  The wind began to shriek and howl.

             
And
this
was with her magic waning?

             
“Release me.”  Alanna ordered, as lightening again split the sky.  No trace of alarm remained in her sure tones.  “Though you have dared to lay hands on a Princess of Rune, I will give you one last chance.  Release me.”

             
After a disbelieving shake of his shaggy head, the giant laughed. 

             
Alanna smiled, a fierce smile of such deadly beauty that the giant immediately fell silent.  Low-voiced, she spoke, and though her words were of no language Darrick knew, the lyrical cadence of them hinted at great power. 

             
Indeed, the air around them began to stir.  The hair rose on the back of Darrick’s neck.               

             
The giant blinked, then growled, a strangely inhuman sound.  He yanked Alanna close, crushing her against him, one huge hand holding her captive, the other still gripping his bloody weapon. 

             
His own sword in hand, Darrick moved to plunge his blade in the man’s undefended back. Readying himself for the killing blow, he fell back, repelled by some unseen force.

             
The giant – and Alanna – began to glow.  The sky went utterly black, the faint light of the sun extinguished, as if snuffed out by some huge hand.               Around them, all sound ceased.  The battle cries, the shouts, all gone.  Only the ominous crackle of the fires remained. 

             
As Darrick looked on in stunned disbelief, Alanna’s glow became so bright it hurt to look upon her.

             
In a shower of sparks, the giant vanished. 

             
The sky ripped open, a deluge of icy water – no mere raindrops these, but a torrent, a flood, soaking everything and extinguishing the fires all at once.  Then the wind rose in a fierce maelstrom, sweeping away both smoke and rain, the furious force of it cleansing away all that remained of the battle.  Finally it too vanished and the air went still.

             
The day began to lighten from black to gray. 

             
His breath making plumes of frost in front of his face, Darrick found himself frozen, powerless to move.  Soaked and chilled to the bone, unable even to shiver, he watched as Alanna, her radiance fading, calmly brushed off the front of her gown where the giant’s hand had soiled it, then crumpled senseless at his feet. 

             
Overhead, the dim light of the sun peeked hesitantly through the haze.  The wind became a gentle breeze and the world smelled clean, fresh. 

             
Dispassionate, Darrick knelt and effortlessly lifted his former intended.  He held her loosely in his arms.  Even comatose, her fae nature lent her a faint glow of radiant beauty.  He hardened his heart.  Well he knew how her loveliness could affect him.

             
Straightening, he listened again for sounds of the battle.  Still he heard nothing but his own breathing.

             
Another voice spoke, though he could not find the speaker.  “Your keep is free, mortal. At great cost to herself, with our aid, Alanna has done as you asked.  The invaders are gone. Now there is another debt.  One to be paid by both of you."

             
Wynne.
He recognized the voice. 
Invisible
.  He sighed.  In the time since Alanna had left him, his existence had been blessedly normal.  He’d forgotten how omniscient the magical beings of Rune could appear to be.

             
“Show yourself.”  Scowling, Darrick planted his legs apart in the ready stance of a warrior.  To all appearances, he was alone in his keep.  The wind-scarred plains beyond the castle wall were empty.  No trace remained of the tents, the milling men, the scarlet flags that had flapped so menacingly. 

             
The sound of Fae laughter rang out, bells chiming merrily in the breeze.  Alanna had taken him to Rune once or twice in the old days, and he knew Wynne to be an elderly, yet commanding woman.