Soul Magic (28 page)

“`Tis much closer to the water than I ever want to be.” one of his men swore.

Another laughed and elbowed him.  “Lord Darrick either, I’m thinking.”

The first man didn’t even crack a smile.  “What about the horses?  If you need a man to stay and guard them, I would be glad to do so.”

Jaw set, Darrick nodded.  “The task is yours.”

The rest of the men stared at the boat gently rocking on the water.

“How do we get to it?” the second man asked.  “There’s no way we can climb down these cliffs?”

“There’s sure to be a path.”

Dismounting, they left the horses with their guard and began to search.  Further north, they found a rocky trail winding down the cliffs.  Without hesitation, Darrick led the way. 

When they reached the bottom, Alanna caught up with him.  “Will you be all right?”

The gaze that met hers contained no trace of fear.  “Of course.”

They climbed into the boat.  Two men took the oars and two more pushed them off into the water, climbing aboard at the last moment and sending a spray of salt water up into Alanna’s face.  The other men took seats with their companions, leaving Alanna and Darrick alone in the front.

Though her arms ached from holding Ellette, each time Alanna tried to set the child down, the little girl clung and shuddered. 

“Let me hold her.”  Darrick pried Ellette’s arms from around Alanna’s neck.  Making wordless, soothing sounds, he held her close to his chest. 

Watching them, throat tight, Alanna felt absurdly like weeping.  That Darrick, who had his own fear of the ocean to deal with, made the effort to comfort a small child, moved her deeply.

How had she ever lived without this man?  Assuming she made it through the coming ordeal unscathed, how would she resume her life now that he’d touched it?

One hand encircling Ellette’s back, with his other Darrick gripped the wooden seat as they rode the waves.  His white-knuckled hold was the only proof of his tension as their small craft pitched and dipped.  With his chiseled features stark and his skin devoid of color, he might have been a winter faerie, so colorless did he appear. 

Alanna touched his arm and he turned to look at her.  His eyes, dark and full of secrets, glowed not with fear, but with fierce determination.

“You are all right,” she said with wonder.  “I feared how you would take this ride so close to the sea.”

“If the sea is the worst thing I must face on this journey, my task shall be easy indeed.”  He forced a smile.

She wanted to kiss him.  Instead, she looked down at her hands before raising her gaze to his.  “You shall always have my thanks for this.”

Deliberately, he pretended to misunderstand.  He raised a brow.  “Do not forget I also go to rescue my lady mother.”

“I have not forgotten.  How could I, when Rowena was always dear to me?  Knowing her as I do, I have no doubt she will look after my son as much as she is able.”  Her throat closed, as she remembered again the messenger with his tales of Rowena’s abuse.

“We will avenge her ill treatment.”  Her vow sounded fierce.

“We?”  Darrick raised a brow.  “I will take vengeance for my own.  You just worry about your son.”

Blinking back tears, she swallowed, then nodded.  “At least let me thank you for giving me back so much--”  She stopped, trying to find the right words.

“I have not yet given you that which you long for above all others.  But fear not.  We will vanquish Gorsedd,” he vowed.  “And I will return your son to you unharmed.”

Still he would not name Caradoc his.

Wiping at her eyes, Alanna regarded him with a mixture of exasperation and tenderness.  There was much more she longed to say, but now was not the time.  Darrick had given her back herself.  She’d learned to touch him without fear, to feel desire again, to hope for a future much less bleak and barren.  A future with Caradoc – their son – as a family. 

She blinked.  Head cocked, he watched her, waiting for some sort of reply.

“Of this I have no doubt.  Though the way will not be easy, I have confidence I will soon hold my son in my arms as you do Ellette now.”

A strange look crossed his face.  “Aye.”

She had to say it.  Now, when they faced a great battle and the possibility of death, she had to know. “Darrick?  What will you do if Caradoc is your son as well?”

He looked away, towards the coastline of the island where all their destinies lay.

“How will I know if he is?  Is such a thing possible, instant recognition of father to son?  When I see him, if he is of my blood, will I recognize this?”

She swallowed, aching for him.  “I cannot say.  If there is some simple way to discern the truth, I know not how.”

A large wave crashed across the brow, spraying them all with icy water.  Still Ellette gave no reaction, yet continued to stare ahead with blank eyes, her thumb in her mouth.

Alanna leaned close, breathing a light kiss along the child’s downy cheek.  “You worry me, little one.”

While she was thus occupied, Darrick placed his own kiss on top of Alanna’s head.  “Worry not.  Ellette will be fine.”

“I hope so.”

“She will.  She merely waits to see Caradoc.  As do I.”

It struck her then.  If Caradoc were truly his son, he had never met him.  She had stolen this from both of them.

“I’m sorry,” she began, wondering if she could find a way to explain.

“Don’t be.”  His intent stare captured hers so all else ceased to exist.  He exhaled, a plume of white frost in the icy air.  “In the end, the name of Caradoc’s father will not matter.”

Alanna’s heart stuttered.  “What are you saying?”

But Darrick shook his head and resumed his study of the coastline ahead.  Though she waited, he did not answer, his profile as hard as the rocky cliffs. 

She understood.  He needed time.  She herself had taken five long years to arrive at this point, to be able to even consider a life with Darrick as a family. 

But time seemed to be the one thing that was running out.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Right before collision with the stone wall appeared imminent, the dragon veered left.  The sharpness of the movement, combined with the beast’s sudden sheer dive, sent Geoffrey’s stomach into rebellion. 

That’s all he needed – to become violently ill now.

Instead, he concentrated on continuing his prayers and watching Sarina for some sign of life.

Still unconscious, she lay slumped inside the dragon’s huge claw.  Geoffrey prayed she was not dead. 

They soared out of the rock fissure and Geoffrey saw an isolated cove.  Inside was a small stone island, on which sat only a single knarled tree and a Keeil.  These primitive earth sod chapels had long served Christian priests, though most had been abandoned once an abbey was built.  Since he’d heard the Isle of Man had an active abbey, Geoffrey had no doubt this Keeil on an island-within-an-island was deserted.

Flying straight towards this place, finally the dragon circled.  When they landed, he raised one claw and gently dislodged Sarina.  She crumpled to the ground in a heap.

Geoffrey leapt down and ran to her.  Gathering her close, he lifted her in his arms and searched desperately for some sign of life. 

“Sarina.”  No response.  Ah, but though she did not wake, he saw the steady beat of her pulse in her long, slender throat. 

Alive.

Casting his gaze skyward, he uttered a quick prayer of thanks.

Above him, the dragon snorted.  Though Geoffrey stood directly under the thing’s massive chest, the monster ignored him.  Instead, the beast peered steadily at the keeil, as though waiting for someone to emerge.

A moment later, someone did.

A small boy wearing a robe of shimmering purple, ran towards them, skidding to a stop when he saw Geoffrey.

The dragon made a loud mewling sound, similar to that which a kitten makes asking for food.  Massive neck stretching, the beast lowered its head so that the child might scratch it.  And the boy did, all the while eying Geoffrey with mistrust.

“Who are you?”

“Geoffrey Tadhg.”  Even now he felt a thrill of pride at his name.  Geoffrey took a step closer.  He met the boy’s gaze, discovering with a shock that the child’s emerald eyes appeared those of a much older soul. 

The child’s gaze flew to the woman in Geoffrey’s arms.

“Aunt Sarina?”  The boy asked, his high-pitched voice quavering.  “What have you done to my Aunt Sarina?”

“`Twas not I, but yon beast.”  Geoffrey took another step closer.  “The dragon snatched her, injuring her with its claws.”

“He wasn’t supposed to hurt anyone.”  The childish face crumpled.  “He was supposed to bring me my mother.”

“Supposed to… are you saying you control this monster?”

“Ladde is no monster.”  The boy regarded the dragon fondly.  “I made him to be my pet.”

“Made him?”

“Aye.”  Beaming proudly, the child scratched the dragon’s long, scaly snout.  The beast gurgled with happiness.  “With magic.  Since I came to the place, magic fills me.  I can do many things, more than I could ever do at home.”

Magic.  Emerald eyes.  The shock of red hair, so like Morfran.  Caradoc.  He had to be. 

“You must be Caradoc then, the son of Alanna of Rune?”

With a vigorous nod, the boy confirmed Geoffrey’s suspicion.  “Of course I am, Geoffrey Tadhg.  And who are you?”
              “I am sworn liegeman of Darrick Tadhg of Thorncliff.”  Geoffrey said, his arms beginning to ache.  “Your mother has asked Darrick to help her find you.”

“Yet you are the one who has done so.”

Bemused, Geoffrey nodded.  “Quite by accident, I assure you.”  He shifted his weight, trying to ease the burden carrying his lady made on his body.  “Is there somewhere soft and clean I might lay your aunt, so that I can discern how badly she is hurt?” 

“Aye.  Follow me.”  Caradoc led the way inside the keeil.  To Geoffrey’s surprise, though austere, the place was neat and tidy.  No adults appeared to be in attendance. Where was the boy’s guard? 

“You can put her on my bed.”  Caradoc pointed.  A crude straw bed, covered with tattered cloth blankets, sat in one corner. 

Gently, Geoffrey placed Sarina on top.  Her breathing came steadily.  He thanked God he could still see the beat of her heart.

“She will not die.”  Caradoc’s young voice sounded certain.  “She only sleeps.”

“Know you this for truth?”  `Twas a measure of Geoffrey’s desperation, that he would take the word of one small child as fact. 

“Aye.”  Caradoc crossed his arms.  “I would sense it if her soul had left her.”

“You are what, four summers old?”

Looking bemused, the child held up his hand.  “Five.”

“Then you are wise beyond your years.”

“Many have said so.”  Caradoc laughed.  “But I still want my mama.”

The quaver in his high-pitched voice reminded Geoffrey that for all his adult talk, Caradoc truly was a young, frightened child.

“She is trying to come to you.”  Kneeling so that his face was on a level with the boy’s, Geoffrey shifted Sarina to one side and held out his other arm.

Caradoc hesitated. 

“I am a friend of Alanna,” Geoffrey promised, realizing with a start that he meant his words.  “And I mean you no harm.”

With a muffled sob, Caradoc rushed forward.  His head on Geoffrey’s chest, he cried without making a sound, though his slender shoulders shook.  Caradoc was unlike any other child Geoffrey had ever known. 

So he held the boy and let him cry.

A moment later Caradoc stepped back and rubbed his red eyes.  Raising his freckled face to meet Geoffrey’s gaze directly, he gave a grave nod.  “You have my thanks.” 

Though such an adult-sounding remark would have been odd coming from any other five-year-old, coming from Caradoc with his old eyes, it sounded right. 

Outside, the dragon sighed.  The earth cottage trembled as the beast turned in a circle and lay down.

“He is a good dragon,” Caradoc said. 

“If you can do things like conjure a dragon that flies,” Geoffrey indicated the door, “why did you not flee this place on the beast’s back?”

“I cannot leave this little island.  They called it their perfect hiding place – the Isle of Man shelters it.”  Caradoc pointed towards the larger isle.