Mistweavers 01 - Enchanted No More (29 page)

She’d tried to ignore those over the last days, concentrated on the differences—her own power was greater, as was her knowledge. Her spell technique had refined since she was so determined and focused.

But now all the memories had risen to plague her and anything that echoed of the past resonated to thrum her nerves. She couldn’t bear it if she failed again, and that meant taking steps so she wouldn’t.

Her emotions churned and she knew he sensed them.

“Oh, Jindesfarne,” he whispered, sorrow in his eyes. He stood. “I hadn’t considered.”

Men. What was so difficult to understand that she wouldn’t take a chance on repeating her previous mistakes?

He walked to her, into her personal space, but not quite touching her. She became aware of mass; his height, taller than she, his body wider than hers. The solidity of him, the strength. But he hadn’t been strong during the portal mission. He’d been weak, and his weakness had matched her own in putting their pleasure before their duty that morning.

She wouldn’t do that again.

ARIC SAID, “WHAT IF I PROMISED YOU THAT
we will be on the beach and ready for the ritual to start two hours before it is scheduled?”

An inward tremor had her gritting her teeth. Tears pressed against the backs of her eyes. He, too, had regrets. Maybe he didn’t feel the guilt because they’d been “late,” but maybe he was as determined as she to make this experience different.

This time he touched her. Fingertips on her cheek, feathering down to trace her lips. He smiled and though the sadness lingered in his eyes, a glint was back. He pressed his fingers to her lips like a kiss, a benediction. Then his hands drew down her neck, and again he barely brushed the sensitive tatt on her nape. Tingles shivered through her, heating her blood, her skin, her core.

His smile widened, but he remained silent. His touch swept down her shoulders, her waist, until his hands settled on her hips. His gaze met hers. “I wouldn’t do anything to upset you at this juncture, Jenni.” He jerked his head to their electronics on the table. “Four alarms are set.” A corner of his mouth twisted. “And the naiad we like least has orders to personally wake us three hours ahead of the midmorning ritual. For breakfast and cleansing and preparation. We won’t be late this time, Jenni. I promise you.”

He’d changed. The careless young man who’d put his pleasure first was long gone, ground to a sharp blade for the Eight. He learned to put their missions first, and his own Folk, the Treefolk. He’d thought of others first for a long time.

“I trust you,” she said.

Closing his eyes, he dropped his hands, his smile dimmed, then kicked up again. “Go start your shower, Jenni.”

She rolled her clothes up and stuck them in her backpack—a magical backpack now with a pocket of greenspace provided by Aric. She couldn’t reach into such a space, but she could request something pop out. The pack had expanded as she picked up items along the way. Even as she stuffed her clothes in, she wondered if she’d be in any kind of shape to draw them out in the future.

In the bathroom she stripped and put her bra and panties in the laundry chute, again wondering when she’d get them back with all the demands on the household staff.

The bathroom was the best thing about this place, and nearly as big as their bedroom. Each tile was uniquely painted and had a slight texture that made it nonslippery. There was a freshwater pool-tub set in stone in the floor, with easy steps down and jet options…all worked by magic. An enclosed shower had opposite showerheads on each wall. She stepped in the shower and steamed up the place. Her muscles relaxed and her turbulent emotions quieted enough to be tucked away.

Then the shower door opened and Aric stepped in, fully aroused, and her entire body hummed with anticipation. Again he put his hands on her hips. He said, “Music,” and a deep beating rhythm upped the spiral of desire that came as his slick hands roamed her body. He pulled her close and they swayed to Spanish-inspired music that she didn’t know he liked. It lit her fire nature, and as his hands stroked and she returned the sensual touch, reveling in skin over smooth muscle, wet, hers, all thought vanished.

They danced, they played, they merged. Him thrusting into her with a pleasure that had her panting, pumping, breaking into shards of deep pleasure. Forming again.

She held on to him as he leaned against the warm wall of the shower, ordered the music and the water off. With barely enough breath to order a breeze to dry them, she enjoyed the contentment of caring that came after sex.

He put an arm around her, bracing her as they walked from the bathroom, where he helped her with the over-large soft cotton T-shirt that she wore to bed, nuzzling her ear, then tucked her in.

She was sleepy until a wisp of song came from outside their windows and all the responsibility she had tomorrow hit her once again and froze her with icy dread.

Aric was there with a drink, his face austere.

Sniffing, she understood the warm herbal liquid was a sleeping potion without any side effects. With the potion and sleeping with Aric, she might not even wake up in the middle of the night. She took it and downed it, warming from the inside out without using her magic. She settled back into the plump feather pillows. “I take it that this means no more loving tonight.”

“You take it wrong.” He slid into bed with her. “I need to ensure that you will sleep well. My duty.”

“Ah,” she said, then she only moaned.

When she woke up, the planet had turned and the sun had risen and it was the day of the spring equinox. The day of the mission. The day that would change her life.

Aric was as quiet as she, speaking gently to the naiad who pounded on the door after they were already awake, the browniefem who’d come to serve them breakfast.

Jenni listened to her blood and body’s beat, had done the procedure for entering the interdimension often enough that there would be no hesitation.

She dressed in silk: undershirt and blouse, thin long johns and heavier trousers. All items were woven in different directions—a battle precaution. Aric wore heavier padded silk armor with light chain mail—and spells. He’d also hardened his skin until it shone like polished redwood.

Soon they were ready—or for Jenni, as ready as she would ever be. It was obvious from the way Aric dressed and checked his weapons that he’d fought over the years, while she had avoided her magic and her heritage. The last week had been good. No one had wanted to visit with her, so she concentrated on the mission—and proving herself.

Ripples of chimes collided with piano riffs and an epic music theme as all their electronic alarms sounded.

Jenni chuckled and Aric laughed, rolled his shoulders to settle his armor. “Now we go. The Lightfolk are preparing the dancing circle.”

Some of the underlying tension that had imbued her since she’d awakened knowing it was
the day
settled within her, adding energy instead of distracting. These were the great magical Folk. She certainly wouldn’t be alone in handling the bubble. Now that he’d mentioned it, she felt the heaviness of magic surrounding her.

She could only do her part and balance the energies inside the bubble and when it popped. Everything after that was up to the Lightfolk.

Aric stopped her when she put her hand on the door latch, turned her around. The feel of his hands on her—smooth and flexible wood, so different!—distracted her mind and body and sent them into considering sex instead of magic.

He tipped her chin up, his eyes like emeralds, crystalline, hard to read. Bending his head he kissed her, lightly, tenderly. The scent of him—sparkling air magic, the secret depths of great forests, redwood, man—wrapped around her until she ached with wanting to stay with him.

Lifting his head, he stepped back. “I love you,” he said, just as he hadn’t said it fifteen years ago on that lost morning of Before.

She opened her mouth to say it in return, but the words couldn’t come out. She couldn’t be that vulnerable before this man who had hurt her so, whom she’d believed had betrayed her. Not
this
morning, the morning of the next battle where she might live or die.

He might die, too. “I—I…” But she could only scrape that word from her throat, no others.

Again he gathered her close, rocked her, murmured words against her hair. His hand covered the tatt on her neck and she shivered under his touch. “I understand. This is too much like the time before when you were hurt so badly.” His other hand lifted to stroke her hair. “I’m with you all the way today. I won’t leave you.”

Unless he died outside the interdimension, like the rest of her family had, except Rothly. Rothly she
could
do something about. She reached for him mentally, it was eight hours later there, in Northumberland, and she sensed it was gray and raining. She almost wished it was gray and raining here, so the weather and the morning wasn’t like that last battle.

Rothly,
she called mentally.
I love you.

He was startled.

I forgive you,
she said, telling him again in words what had to be said.
I love you and forgive you.
This was the right thing to do.

Her brother slammed shields against her, but she’d done what she’d needed to, a small weight that had burdened her had lifted. She looked into Aric’s eyes, found her mouth quirking as she said, “I forgive you, too.”

Aric shook his head. “I don’t think you do, all the way down to the last flicker-flame of your being, or you’d be able to tell me you loved me.” He kissed her forehead. “But you’ve—we’ve—come a long way in a short amount of time. We’ll get where we need to be.”

She hoped so.

“Time to go.” He stepped around her and opened a door.

On a shaky breath she left the room to walk out the door for a last check of the dancing circle. To confront the Lightfolk and the full Eight.

NO ONE WAS IN THE HOUSE, EVERYONE WAS
outside near the Lightfolk camp…and they all watched Jenni as she crossed to the area that had been prepared for a sacred dancing ritual. Aric accompanied her like the guard he was.

The gazes of the Eight and all the other powerful Lightfolk they’d gathered had weight. The strongest in elemental magic were there to cast the spell that would direct the rich bubble energies for the result the Eight wished. A new stream of change that would affect the entire world.

This wouldn’t be an on-the-fly spell like she and Aric and the guardians had done at Yellowstone. Since this was the last bubble, she was sure the event was planned to the last detail.

The Eight wanted that creative bubble force to bolster the Lightfolk so they wouldn’t die out, maybe become more fertile. A good plan as far as it went, but Jenni figured any stream of magic infused with hope and creativity would benefit everyone. Not to mention the fact that this new upsurge of magic might very well meld with the evolving tech of humankind and forge something better.

Look how the shadleeches that had been created by the first bubble had been bad for Lightfolk and humans alike, “good” only for the Darkfolk who could use and direct them to do harm.

Her feet tingled as magic from many Folk saturated the ground. Where the Lightfolk had trod now showed greener grasses, and even white crocus in a wide ring, a fairy ring. Beautiful. She stared at the green and the flowers, reluctantly accepting that the Lightfolk, on the whole, were good for Earth…at least better for the Earth than her own human heritage.

She’d even give the Eight the benefit of the doubt and accept that, in this matter, they were truly interested in helping the whole Lightfolk community, all the way down to the weakest air sprite.

Her trancelike state deepened as more of the herbs from her last potion kicked in. The air seemed to buzz around her. She went to the middle of the circle and stood, spread-legged, and lifted her arms wide, opened her mouth to check the magic.

Not. Quite. Balanced. Too many magical people spending too much time here. But it would only take a tweak or two to set all right.

One breath, two, the pattern of the chant and steps and the gray mist formed before her. She took the half step into the interdimension. A night with aurora borealis was nothing like this. Each Lightfolk colored the mist—from the dull gold of the small browniefem who’d taken to providing Jenni and Aric with their meals, to a flaming red-orange that had Jenni frowning at the general familiarity of its superheated flash of blue until she understood that Synicess had been invited.

The Eight were majestic pillars of elemental magic.

It took Jenni only three breaths to gather some of the ambient power and weave it into her previous spell, adjusting the balance of all four elements to perfection. That’s what the Eight expected from her, and what she intended to deliver.

Another breath and she backed out of the mist, banished it with a gesture. Sunshine warmed her and she caught a look of surprise on Aric’s face. “Done so soon?”

“I don’t know how long it will take the bubble to rise from the Earth’s crust and float up into the atmosphere to break.” She rolled her shoulders, the coolness of the interdimension had slid against her skin, not quite sinking in, and she wanted the warmth. “I anticipate entering and exiting the interdimension several times instead of staying there.”

Her father’s friend, Etesian, the scholarly elf, hurried up and put an arm around her shoulders, gave her a short squeeze. “Quite so.” He stared at the Eight. “You must reserve your skill to attempt to balance the energy inside the bubble.”

Jenni nodded, leaned slightly into the elf, who smelled of leather and paper and a spring breeze. “Most of my magic will be joining great outside energies with the bubble magic after it bursts.”

The Fire King, Emberdrake, now her adopted father, rubbed his hands, smiling. “You’ll give us a great deal of equal magical elemental power to work with. Thank you.” He topped off his thanks with a bow.

“You’re quite welcome.”

“Dear Jenni,” the Fire Queen said, smiling. She walked up on a perfumed fragrance of summer blossoms with a hint of musk. “Well done.” She took Jenni’s hands and leaned over to kiss each of Jenni’s cheeks. Her chocolate-brown eyes were warm with pride. “You have been so very sturdy this last week under less than ideal circumstances.” She gave the tiniest of sniffs. “Living in a merfem’s house.”

“It wasn’t that bad,” Jenni said.

Queen Emberdrake raised perfect dark brows at Jenni’s lie. Her mouth quirked and she squeezed Jenni’s hands. “We’ll be ready to drink champagne with you after this is all over.”

Jenni could only pray that would happen. She dipped a curtsy and the queen released her hands. The Air King came up and patted her shoulder. “Good job.”

“Thank you.” Then she faded back to the front porch of the house, leaving the area to the Lightfolk. Not one halfling was there except herself.

They formed a large circle, but didn’t hold hands yet to close it. The strongest of all the Lightfolk in the world, about thirty of them, and most of them armed. Jenni wondered if it would be enough against the Dark ones who would show up. And wondered, as all must, how many of the remaining four great Dark ones would come.

The royals, the Eight, entered singly in the order of the strength of their power. Last was the dwarf king, as the greatest of all the Lightfolk. He circled the Folk, as if studying them, stood in the center and stamped his feet as if testing her work. Then his gaze arrowed to her and he nodded. Her held breath dribbled out. First obstacle overcome. The Eight approved of her balancing of their ritual area, even though it changed every instant each person was on it. She’d done her best.

She inclined her head and turned to go back into the house, to descend to her place on the beach. Behind her, she sensed Aric bowing to the Eight.

The house was colder than ever, seemed almost empty since much of the power it had contained was now drawn to the dancing circle.

When she reached the beach, she found the two guardians walking along the shoreline. They turned and greeted her with welcoming smiles. Their gazes slid over Aric, weighing, and he stiffened beside her.

The elf came up and slapped Aric on the shoulder. “You’re looking good.”

He relaxed slightly, but Jenni thought his anxiety was still there. No matter how much he trained, a half-Treefolk half-elf could not match either of these warriors. “Glad to see you here.”

“For the duration,” the dwarf grunted.

“What’s that smell?” Aric asked.

Jenni sniffed, there was a faint oily metallic tang in the air.

“Dark ones.”

She stopped, yards from her place in the sand. “What?”

“They’ve been here, scouting.” The elf loosened his sword in his hilt, a gesture that indicated a habit rather than need.

“I didn’t sense them,” she whispered.

“Minor evils.” The dwarf showed his pointy red teeth. “Minions.”

“Uh-huh.” Jenni’s stomach tightened. She wished so much this was a computer game and not reality.

Aric’s fingers touched the small of her back, urging her toward her pattern. “You’ll be safe in the interdimension.”

“I shouldn’t stay there for long. Only when I need to be there to work. That is…when the bubble bursts and to hold the magics equal for the Eight’s spell,” she repeated for the benefit of the guardians.

The elf graced her with a half smile. “We heard you the first time.”

“Ah. About the Dark ones.” She hadn’t asked about that, either.

“We don’t think all four’ll show up,” the dwarf said. “Three, max.”

She was close to her spot now, could smell stale bubblegum. “Including Kondrian.”

“Intelligence has it that he is at full power again,” the elf said. “No doubt they’ll attack at what they perceive to be the worst possible time for us.” He sounded unruffled, though Jenni was nearly panting.

Aric frowned at the air guardian.

“We believe they may work at cross-purposes, as usual,” the elf ended.

Notes of chimes and harps and flutes drifted down from the bluff. Jenni looked up to see the circle ceremoniously closed.

“They’re starting the preparatory ritual to test their magics and blend them. Though everyone convened once to practice, that was in the air palace, not here, not where they have a completely balanced dancing floor.” The elf lifted Jenni’s limp fingers and kissed them. “You have nothing to worry about. You’ll be fine.”

Pellets of sand shot into the air. They looked at the dwarf, who kicked the sand again, scowling at them. “You know I hate when you say things like that.
Hate
that.”

Still with the half smile, the elf shook his head, bowed and handed Jenni onto her spot. She took it, and her churning emotions subsided. Everyone was prepared for the Dark ones, for the bubble. She should just concentrate on fulfilling her tasks.

She angled herself until she faced the point where she’d been keeping track of the energy she’d associated with the bubble. There was a little fizz, one she could almost hear. Shaking her head, she met Aric’s eyes. “I’m going into the interdimension.”

So she breathed and chanted and pattered her feet. Misty and gray, the interdimension rose before her and she shuffled into the different space.

There was a quiet sigh.

Nothing mentally from anyone around her—Aric or the guardians.

Nothing from the Eight and their chosen Lightfolk on the hill above, who had finished their preparatory ritual and were dancing freely, flickering energies.

From deep in the earth, under the ocean, under the crust.

A sense of great magics, encased in a sphere.

Enormous.

Rising.

The bubble.

Her skin went clammy in an instant. The mist pressed against her, seemed to writhe with nightmarish shapes. Her imagination, she knew. But her heart beat hard as she realized that all their timing was off. Again.

The bubble wasn’t going to wait for the exact moment of the spring equinox in an hour. If she’d been on time, once again she’d have been late.

She calmed just enough to say the words to make a graceful exit that wouldn’t wrench her.

Still, as she stepped back, her ankle twisted and she lurched into Aric’s arms. She grabbed him, looked at the guardians. “It’s rising. The bubble is coming!”

“At what pace?” asked the elf. His face had gone tight, intense.

“Fairly quickly. Coming through the planet now, I can’t tell how close. Except probably will hit within…” She speared her fingers through her hair, tugged at it as if that would make her calculate correctly. “No more than three-quarters of an hour. And it’s huge.”

“How huge is huge?” asked the dwarf.

Jenni flopped her hands in a wide gesture. “Uh. Could encase a semitruck? At least.”

Not a Lightfolk comparison. The three men stared at her. “Uh, hold my house?”

“Full. Of. Magic,” the elf said.

“Yes.”

“Wild magic,
new
magic, elemental energies straight from the Earth’s core itself!”

The Kings and Queens of Earth and Water appeared on the beach. Ringed around Jenni.

“You say the bubble is rising!” the Water King demanded. His green hair moved like waves.

“Yes.” She stood straighter, lifted her chin. “It’s coming through the crust now.” She looked at the Earth King.

His brows lowered but he didn’t appear any more gruff than usual. Tilting his head, he said, “Maybe. Maybe.” He shot out a stubby finger to point at her. “Go back into that place where you can see such energies and link mentally with us.”

She didn’t want to, wanted to save her strength. Aric nudged her.

“All right.” She rubbed her arms, didn’t want to spare any magic to warm herself. Shaking out her limbs, she enunciated her words—Mistweaver spellwords, nonsense words to others—and did all that must be done, and found herself once again in the interdimension.

YOU CAN HEAR ME?
The Earth King’s voice pounded in her head like a sledgehammer on an anvil.

You are too loud,
she replied mildly.

She thought she could hear the rumble as he cleared his throat.
Examine the energies you believe indicate the bubble.

Since no one was around, she sniffed in disdain. She hadn’t entered facing the ocean, but now let the already stronger elemental magic pull her to the right direction.

Pressure filled the atmosphere as if even this space between the Earth’s dimension and others’ awaited a significant event. She scrutinized moving elements, wrapped in balls, not stretched out in sheets like she was accustomed to seeing. Flashing lightning red-orange and violet-white: fire and air. Thrumming splashes of green-blue, golden brown that moved like earth, groaning and cracking. Near the crust right now. No more than a couple of hundred yards northwest of where she stood. Though deep, it was “visibly” coming closer.

Narrowing her eyes, she focused and projected her magical-sight, hoping the dwarf king—and whoever else might be linked to her—the Emberdrakes on the cliff and Aric could sense what she did.

Wonderful,
whispered Aric. She got the impression he was looking at the mist, too. The sheets of elemental magic that flowed eerily in the distance, the flickers of the magical Lightfolk on the ridge that she glimpsed at the edge of her vision.

A hollow grunt popped in her ears. The Earth King.
Eight, prepare for the royal tuning-and-joining ceremony,
ordered the dwarf.

Dark ones sighted in the distance!
someone cried.

Fire is MINE!
shouted someone.

The blackness of death slammed across Jenni’s senses. She crumpled onto the ground of the interdimension. Dared not move.