Magical Lover (19 page)

“She absorbed your magic?” Annaliese’s eyes popped wide.

“Well, don’t stand around talking. Take her to the healing rooms.” Aryana hurried into the Temple with Annaliese and Thoren close behind.

The room Ari led them to was sparsely decorated, a bed and nightstand the only furniture. Religious paintings of dragons frolicking in fields dotted the walls. Thoren laid Keara on the bed and took a step back, leaving space for the priestesses to perform their healing magics. He watched Keara’s pale face, her only movement a chest barely rising as she struggled for breath.

Aryana and Annaliese placed crystal globes around the bed, chanting words in an ancient tongue as they touched each one, causing it to glow. Magic pulsed in the air, encircling the globes, the bed, whispering against his skin. When they completed the circle, light surrounded the bed, shimmering softly.

“We have placed the healing stones around her and can only wait now. If her magic is strong she will overcome this.” Ari placed a hand on Thoren’s shoulder. “Annaliese will stay with her. She has healing powers far beyond mine. Come and we’ll talk.” She held her arm out toward the door.

Thoren looked at Keara, her red hair in stark contrast to the pristine white sheets. He grabbed the invisibility blanket, wadded it up and tucked it under his arm. Chances were good she wouldn’t need it inside the Temple.

What if she died? What would he do without her?

Go about his business as he had before she dropped into his life.

Somehow, the thought no longer pleased him.

“Thoren?” Aryana’s arm had to be tired held out like that.

“I would like to stay.”

“The crystals will work better without you in here. Besides, don’t you need to give a report to the Council?”

Taking one last look at Keara, he followed Ari out the door. His sitting by Keara’s side would not help her recover. And he could always come back.

“I don’t need to give a report until Enar arrives. We’re supposed to report together.”

“Oh. In that case, would you care for a room? No offense, but you look exhausted.”

Really? Flying all night with his mate in his claws had a tendency to do that to a dragon. “I might be a bit tired. I flew all night to get Keara here.”

“I know. You showed me.”

“Oh, right. Maybe I’m more tired than I thought.”

Aryana opened a door a couple of doors down from the room Keara was in. “Why don’t you stay here? There’s fresh water in this room and we’ll bring you food later.”

“Thank you.” He gave her a hug.

“It’s good to see you again, nephew. We’ll talk later.” She patted his face and walked out of the room.

Thoren flopped on the bed, sinking into the mattress, and stared at the ceiling mural. Green fields, wild flowers and streams he could almost hear tumbling over the rocks danced above his head.

Keara would be all right. She had to be. Annaliese was the best healer of all the priestesses. Which figured since she was Alviss’s daughter and not only was he the eldest Draconi, he was also the most powerful. And Annaliese’s mother had been a well-known healer when she lived, so healing magic ran in her family.

Keara would be fine. Annaliese would see to it, Ari would help and all would be well. It would happen. Wouldn’t it?

Worrying about it got him nowhere and the longer he lay on the soft mattress, the heavier his lids became until he drifted into an uneasy sleep.

****

A thick, red fog surrounded Keara, punctuated by seven dim lights set in a circle. How did the lights get in the middle of the fog? The fog felt like it had buffeted her body forever, but the lights were new. If only they helped her see the ground, so she could lie down and sleep. But the ground had disappeared under a mantle of red and who knew what crawled around down there.

If only she could figure out a way to make the fog disappear. At the time, absorbing Thoren’s aura seemed like the best way to help him, but now that it surrounded her, pressing against her body and threatening to suffocate her, she wondered what possessed her to do so. She should have thrown it away instead of asking it to go on some sort of adventure with her.

Too late now.

Without a doubt, the fog would suffocate her. Already the simple act of breathing had become almost impossible, like weights pressed against her chest. Maybe breathing would be easier if she opened her mouth.

Or not.

As soon as her mouth opened, the red fog poured down her throat, and she instinctively swallowed. Heat darted through her veins, fueling her with power. The pressure against her chest slackened enough for her to draw a breath. Was it her imagination or had the fog lessened? Yes, it most certainly had. The lights glowed brighter. Could making the fog disappear be that easy?

Wouldn’t hurt to try.

She opened her mouth, allowing the fog to stream in, swallowing it down, feeling the pressure on her body lessen with each gulp. When the fog hit her stomach it dispersed, awakening fires in her veins as it ran, leaving her hungry for more.

Mouth open, she swallowed down the fog, gulp after gulp, until she stood in a clearing surrounded by seven lights. Keara stared at her arms in shock. Her glowing red arms. She held one in front of her face, poking it with her finger.

Red. Poke. Still red.

Interesting.

Power beat under her skin, more power than the magic ball of snake-like energy she held curled in her chest. Thoren’s power. And it wanted free.

Pointing a finger at one of the lights, she commanded it to shatter.

The light exploded, raining shards of glass upon her hair and skin. Keara covered her head with her arms. Maybe breaking the light hadn’t been the smartest thing to do.

Keara!

The voice screamed across the clearing. Keara raised her head, looking around. Nothing. Maybe she imagined it. But the voice screamed her name again. Perhaps the Goddess talked to her. She tilted her head back, looking toward the sky.

“I’m here, Most Holy One, what do you want of me?”

A chuckle sounded. Oops, maybe she had insulted the Goddess by her address. Well, what did She expect? She had never deigned to talk to Keara before.

Keara, walk toward the closest light. Are you there? Good, now touch it. Allow the light to surround you. Listen to my voice and let the light surround you.

Whew, she hadn’t insulted the Goddess after all. Keara placed her hand on the ball of light. Peace washed over her as the yellow glow surrounded her, drawing her into the globe. But being thrust through a narrow opening into a light brighter than the sun did not bode well for remaining pain free.

Her scream echoed in her ears as her body jerked against the bed.

A bed? Why was she on a bed instead of in the woods with Thoren? Shudders ran through her limbs, cramping the muscles and she forgot the question.

“Keara, open your eyes.”

The voice of the Goddess again! The light must be a transport to the Afterlife. Why then did she feel so much pain? Wasn’t the Afterlife pain-free? Maybe it wasn’t the Goddess. Maybe it was some other woman who had found her. Found them.

Where was Thoren?

Nothing to do but obey the voice.

Her lids felt like coins lay upon them, heavy and weighted. With effort, she pried them half-open, took a quick peek and let them fall shut. Much less effort that way.

“Keara?” Hands patted hers.

Wonder if her arms were still red.
Open eyes, open.

This time her lids didn’t feel as heavy and she managed to open them. Two dark-haired women sat on either side of her, holding her hands. Relief flashed through their eyes as their lips curled into a set of matching smiles.

“There you go, girl. Nice to see you,” the one with long straight hair said.

“Hello, Keara.” This voice belonged to the curly-haired woman, the one that looked older, if only by the age shining through her eyes. Something about her looked familiar, but Keara couldn’t figure it out. Her eyes maybe? Keara gave a mental shrug. Other things were more important than why the woman looked familiar.

“Where am I?”

“You’re in the Temple of the Goddess in the land of Draconia. As the High Priestess of the Temple, I bid you welcome,” Straight Hair said.

“Um. Thank you.”
Where was Thoren?

“Thoren’s down the hall.”

“Did I say that?”

“You mind-spoke.” Curly Hair.

“I can do that?”

Both women chuckled. Nice to know she made the priestesses happy. What a change from the priests back home.

“Of course, you are Draconi. I see I will have to educate you in the ways of our race.” Straight Hair.

“Your Highness?” Keara turned toward Straight Hair. She couldn’t keep calling them Straight and Curly forever.

“You may call me Aryana. Everyone else does.”

“And I’m Annaliese, the Temple Healer.”

Did they hear her thoughts again?

Yes,
chorused through her brain.

She really needed to work on this mind-speaking thing.

“That’s what we’re here for. To help you. Just not now, since you need your rest.”

“Thoren mentioned that you were an apothecary, so I thought you might like to go on rounds with me as I attend to the sick. Once you’re well, that is.” Annaliese’s eyes sparkled.

“I’m allowed to do that? What does Thoren think of that?”

“Why should he care?” Aryana asked.

“He’s my husband. He dictates where I go.”

Both women blinked, looked at each other, looked back to Keara.

“Pardon?” Aryana tilted her head as she stared at Keara.

Were things so different here? Apparently. “According to my customs we’re married—”

“Does Thoren know this?”

“I told him that’s what it meant, but he said he wasn’t.”

Aryana patted her hand, little strokes meant to soothe. “Keara, love, Thoren cannot be your husband. Even if it was by your laws, it is not by our customs. We have exact rituals for mating and a Draconi has only one mate. He could not have married you because he knows he needs to find his mate.

“Now, now, don’t fret.” The hand patting quickened. “You are welcome here for as long as you want to stay. You may look for a mate too, if you so desire, but you must remove from your mind that Thoren is your husband.”

Keara blinked, hoping to catch the tears before they fell. If she didn’t have Thoren as her husband, what would happen to her? Did these people really want her or would they hate her because of her red hair? What if she didn’t fit in? Where would she go?

A cup pressed against her lips, the smell of lemon balm and valerian filling her nose. “Drink. Be calm.” Annaliese demanded it and Keara had no choice but to comply.

The tea tasted bitter despite the lemon balm, its heat spreading outward, relaxing her. Annaliese placed a hand on her forehead and all went dark.