Enchantment (7 page)

Malachai studied him for a long minute, head cocked to one side, a small frown curled the corners of his lips. Reaching out, he plucked the sword from Tallon’s numb fingers, then pulled the staff from his other hand. “Secure them both,” he said.

Gavin grasped Tallon’s wrists and pulled them roughly behind him, tying them at his back and forcing him to his knees.

The spell was wearing off, and he could turn his head slightly and watch as he took the knife from Shayla’s hand and then tied her in the same way, shoving her hard so she collapsed beside him.

She caught his gaze. He expected to see panic and fear, but her eyes filled with love, and a sense of peace washed over him.

All he could hope for now was that they would not be parted for long, that they might even die together.

“Leave us,” Malachai spoke to the guards and they turned and left the clearing. Obviously, Malachai wanted no witnesses for what was to happen here.

Tallon swallowed, then rolled his shoulders as the life returned. “Why?” Malachai raised an eyebrow. “Why did I come after you? Or why did I give you the opportunity to go in the first place?” Tallon shrugged. He’d take either answer right now. He’d thought Malachai trusted him—had he somehow given himself away? “You should have caught the girl days ago—that you had failed showed me something wasn’t right. Then I saw her expression when she first caught sight of you—you weren’t quite quick enough.” It had always been a risk, and Tallon had forgotten how perceptive the warlock could be. No one became head of the Order without having brains, cunning, and determination. Ruthlessness helped as well.

“Besides,” Malachai continued, “after Jarrod’s betrayal and his pathetic falling for the mother, I wasn’t inclined to be so trusting.”Tallon frowned. “Jarrod’s betrayal?”

“Where have you been these last days that you haven’t heard?” Tallon shook his head.

“Jarrod helped the mother escape. The night you brought her in to the Keep.”

“Jarrod—why?”

“Presumably the same reason he helped her escape all those years ago.” As the realization hit Tallon’s brain, everything made sense.

He pictured the man in his mind, dark red hair, and green eyes with a slightly exotic tilt. Shayla’s eyes. It was so clear. Jarrod was Casterix’s brother, a warlock of immense power, a fact that tended to be overlooked as he kept to himself and only visited the Order on rare occasions. But he had been present when Tallon had delivered Shayla’s mother to the Keep.

“Jarrod is the father?”

“Of course. He obviously decided that he couldn’t let the Enforcer have his daughter. I believe they were coming to warn the girl.”“So you were out hunting for them?”

“Yes, and we found them. In the stone circle. Yesterday.” Tallon felt Shayla stiffen beside him “My mother—”

“Shut up,” Malachai snarled. “Shut your stinking mouth, whore.”

“I want—” Malachai lashed out with his booted foot and caught her in the side. She fell against the tree, and he kicked out again. Rage rose up inside Tallon, and he struggled to rise, but the bonds kept him in place.

“Shut your mouth, or I’ll give you to my guards.” Tallon growled low in his throat. “Lay a finger on her and...”

“You’ll what? You’re in a position to do nothing.” He paused, gathering his composure. “But behave, and I’ll not touch the girl.

Yet.”Tallon swallowed his anger.

“Well?” Malachai asked.

Tallon nodded once. Shayla managed to sit up. The blood had leached from her cheeks, panic showing in her face. He knew she loved her mother, the two had a bond, and both would die for the other. How must she be feeling? “Are they dead?” He forced himself to ask the question, knowing that Shayla needed to know the truth, that the uncertainty was far worse.

Malachai strolled away for a moment, when he came back; he shoved his hands in his pockets and stared down at them. “Actually, no. At least I don’t think so.” Tallon spoke quickly. “Where are they?” Malachai lifted one shoulder in a casual shrug. “I don’t know.

What I do know is that when we caught up with them yesterday, the mother had a mark, just like this one.” He reached out and stroked a finger down the sickle moon that decorated the smooth curve of Shayla’s cheek. She flinched, her small teeth clamping down on her lower lip, no doubt to keep herself from talking. Tallon bit down on his frustration, waiting for Malachai to continue.

“The bitch lied and told us she would take her to her daughter. Instead, she led us to the circle and then...she was gone. Well not quite that easily. She spoke one of the words of power and they both vanished.” Tallon risked a quick glance at Shayla’s face, seeing the hope flare in her expression. She was so transparent. Malachai must have seen it too.

“I see the news is good. So do you know where they went?”

“No,” Tallon replied. But he knew that he had to give Malachai something. “But I believe the stone circle is a sort of gate between worlds.” A slow smile curved Malachai’s lips, satisfaction gleaming amid the darkness of his eyes.

From the dark pits of despair, Shayla glimpsed a flicker of light. Her mother was alive and hopefully safe on Earth with Casterix and this Jarrod.

Her mother had never spoken of her father before. Shayla had presumed he was a warlock of the Order. She knew that they maintained a breeding program, but she also knew that the parents were usually unknown and kept a secret. She’d presumed that was the case with her own father. Freya had always hated warlocks, with a deep, ingrained hatred that Shayla had presumed would never change. Now she was with one—the idea seemed inconceivable. And she had the mark—her magic had returned to her. There was someone else out there who could save the Goddess. If Shayla died, all wasn’t lost.

“You knew about the portal already?” She glanced across as Tallon spoke, waiting for the answer.

“Let’s say, I suspected,” Malachai replied.

Shayla straightened, gritting her teeth as a shaft of pain jolted from her ribs to the rest of her body. She swore silently that if they somehow got out of this alive, then Malachai would pay. That seemed unlikely right now.

“The Goddess is awakening,” she said softly. “Soon she will be free, and then you will pay.” Malachai turned his dark gaze on her, and she shivered. For a second, she was sure he meant to lash out again, and she braced herself for the impact. Then he shrugged. “She’s a little restless, but once I’ve stripped you of your magic, I’ll have sufficient power to keep her asleep for another thousand years. Not that I’ll need that long.” Shayla pondered his words. What did he mean to do? Did he know Arroway was dying? Tallon frowned. “You plan to leave?”

“Well, there’s nothing much left for me here. Nothing left for anybody. It’s stay and die on this world or find another.” Shayla stared at him in disbelief. “So, you knew Arroway was dying, yet you continued. Are you insane?” Malachai snorted. “No. Insanity would have been releasing the Goddess. I have a feeling she wouldn’t have been well pleased with the fate of her beloved witches.”

“So you’ll let Arroway die.”

“It’s too late for anything else. And I’ve suspected that the portal exists for many years. Now, thanks to your mother, I’ve found it. I just need to work out the details, and I’ll be gone from this place.” He moved away and stood leaning against a tree, arms folded across his chest, deep in thought. A sense of revulsion washed through her as she stared at the warlock. Had he always been evil? Or had something happened to change him? After a few minutes, his gaze returned to Tallon. “What to do with you, I wonder?” She peered sideways at Tallon. His face was expressionless, but she could almost hear his mind working, hunting for a way out. Why was Malachai even hesitating in killing him? She’d presumed their deaths were a certainty. It was only a matter of when and where, but maybe there were no certainties left in the world.

“Let us go?” Tallon suggested.

A smile flickered across Malachai’s face. “Do you even know why I gave you a chance? Why I don’t just kill you now?”

“No.” Tallon sounded wary as though he suspected he wasn’t going to like where this conversation was going.

“Why I have always favored you—given in to your request to leave the Keep after I offered you the position as captain of my guard? Why I always hoped you would follow me into The Council.”

“No.”

“I’m sure you’ll get there if you think about it,” Malachai said Shayla glanced between the two men. Tallon’s brows were drawn together. She saw the moment enlightenment dawned, followed immediately by rejection. “I don’t believe you,” he snarled.

Believe what? “Of course you do. Did you think that I wouldn’t want my line to continue? Did you not wonder where your power came from?” What was he saying? Tallon was shaking his head as though to deny the words. His gaze was intent as he studied Malachai’s face as if searching for something. He swallowed. “You’re my father?”

“Yes.” Shock jolted through her. Glancing at Tallon, she saw the same shock stamped upon his features.

“You think that changes anything?” he asked.

Malachai shrugged. “For me, obviously—otherwise you’d be dead by now.” Shayla had been concentrating on the two warlocks, but now, a movement at the edge of the clearing drew her gaze. A man stood at the tree line, his face in shadow. At first, she presumed it was one of the guards then he took a small step forward, and she gasped.

Luckily, all Malachai’s attention was on Tallon, and he didn’t see her shocked reaction.

She peered back. Callum raised his finger to his lips, and she gave the slightest nod of her head. Callum glided silently across the clearing. Wrapped in his drab cloak he merged with the halflight, appearing ghostly and insubstantial. He held a new rowan staff in his left hand and a long sliver blade in his right.

“I’m tempted to give you one more chance,” Malachai said.

“You’ve been led astray, but maybe there’s hope for you yet.”

“And what do you hope for?” Tallon asked.

“That once the witch is gone, your mind will clear, and you will see sense.” He cast Shayla a look of revulsion. “Evil creatures, weaving their magic over you—you’ve been bewitched. But once she is dead, you’ll be free of her.”

“That’s not true.” Callum spoke softly from beside them. At the same time, he raised the knife, wrapped one arm around Malachai’s chest, and pressed the tip of his blade to his throat. “He will never be free of her,” Callum continued. “You thought the bond breakable once before, and you nearly destroyed the world in trying.” The color drained from Malachai’s face. He tried to twist his head to see his captor, but the point of the knife dug into his flesh.

A bead of crimson trickled down his throat, and he went still.

“You don’t need to see me to know who I am. You know me.” Callum pressed harder and the trickle became a flow. “I might have forgiven you if you had acted out of love for Casterix, but all you love, all you’ve ever loved, is power.” Malachai licked his lips. “If I die the guards will sense it, they’ll come, and you can’t take them all.”

“Then we’ll have to make sure you don’t die. That still leaves us with plenty of scope. But I think it’s too late—they’re already here.” Shayla glanced away from the tableau playing out in front of her. One by one, the guards stepped into the clearing. Callum turned still keeping his grip on the warlock. “Drop your staffs, or I will kill him.” They hesitated, and Callum twisted the blade. A low moan escaped Malachai. “Do it,” he said, his voice weak and thready, whether through fear or pain she didn’t know. She hoped it was a mixture of both.

The guards dropped their staffs to the forest floor.

“One of you come over here and release them.” He nodded to Tallon and Shayla. The warlock Tallon had fought stepped toward them, moving behind her, and she felt the tight band around her wrists loosen. She rubbed her arms to bring back the circulation as he did the same to Tallon.

For a second, she closed her eyes, hardly daring to believe that there was a chance. When she opened them, Callum hadn’t disappeared in a puff of smoke, and she scrambled to her feet.

Tallon stood beside her, and she wrapped her arms around his waist and hid her face in his chest. Just for a second. She needed to hold him for a second, and then she would be strong. His hands threaded though her hair and he pulled her hard against him so she could hear the rapid beating of his heart.

Finally, she took a deep breath and stepped back.

Tallon’s gaze raked the area, then he crossed the clearing and picked up his staff and his sword and knife. He slotted the weapons into the sheaths at his back and thigh and gripped the staff in his right hand.

“Go,” Callum said. “Take one of the horses, chase off the others, and get out of here.”

“What about you?” she asked.

Hatred burned in Callum’s face. Shayla suspected that Callum meant to kill Malachai, and who could blame him? Would the guards retaliate? She suspected so—all that was holding them at bay was the knife at Malachai’s throat.

She hated the thought of leaving Callum behind, but could think of no alternative. Their only chance was if Callum maintained the standoff and bought them some time.

“Don’t let my grand gesture go to waste,” he growled. “Beside I’m not dead yet. Or maybe I’m already dead. Either way, it doesn’t matter. And I would have a chat with our friend here.” Shayla nodded, but she crossed the space between them, stretched up, and kissed Callum on the cheek. “Thank you.”

“No, thank you,” he replied. “I might have spent eternity in that prison if not for you.”

“You would have found a way out.” He shrugged. “Maybe in another thousand years. Now, listen, if I don’t meet you within the next twenty-four hours, you must go. Tell Casterix...” He shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. She’ll know. And Shayla—perform the choosing ceremony as I told you, it will strengthen the bond between the two of you.” He turned his head so he could regard Tallon. “Take her and go.”Tallon grasped her hand and tugged. For a second she resisted, then the resistance drained from her and she gave in.

They ran across the clearing, to where the horses were tethered under the trees. Tallon studied them for a moment before turning to Shayla. “Can you ride?”