The figure of a woman appeared. Her transparent form was less distinct than they had achieved through previous callings, but they had so few numbers now available to cast the spell.
The woman was beautiful in the way of the Fae, with angular features and elegantly pointed ears, but instead of having the pale skin and black hair of the Dark Fae, or the golden skin and tawny hair of the Light Fae, she was spotted like a cheetah, her skin speckled with golden freckles.
Large green eyes and high cheekbones contributed to the effect. Her hair was a deep russet color, with streaks of gray at her temples. Laugh lines kissed the skin at the corners of her eyes and mouth, although currently there was no smile on her face. Instead, like the men who called upon her, the woman’s expression was grim and tight.
As the others held the spell strong and steady, Nikolas eased out of the casting. He said, “Annwyn.”
She turned, searching until she caught sight of him. Nikolas knew from experience she wouldn’t be able to see or hear the others in the circle, only him as he stood in the center.
Her expression lit with gladness. “Nikolas. It’s so good to see you.”
“And you,” he told her. “Have you made any more progress in waking Oberon?”
She shook her head, frustration evident. “Not since he fell under the enchantment. I don’t have the healing skills needed. None of our healers know what to do for Oberon. His body is cold as ice. I would think he was dead if it weren’t for the fact that I can feel a spark of his life force buried deep in his body, or the fact that his Power is raging out of control.”
His mouth tightened. Oberon was the strongest of the Dark Court, a weather mage, and their King. If his Power was left to rampage unchecked without his iron will to control it, it wouldn’t matter how hard his knights fought to break through the barriers that blocked the crossover passageways leading back to their lands.
Soon they might not have a home to return to.
“How bad is it?” he asked, dreading to hear the answer.
“The city is completely underwater,” she told him grimly. “And the sea keeps rising. We have evacuated to the highest point on the peninsula at Raven’s Craig, but I don’t know if it will be enough, and we’ve lost critical tracts of farmland. Even if the sea level stops rising, we’ll be facing starvation as our food supplies run out.”
They had lost Lyonesse? The news rippled through the group like a physical blow.
Braden had family in the Other land. His chanting faltered, causing the spell to waver. Nikolas shot him a warning look, and the other knight’s voice steadied.
“Annwyn, how long has it been since we last contacted you?” Nikolas asked.
He always asked when they talked. She replied readily, “A fortnight. And you?”
“Winter solstice,” he told her. “Six months ago.”
She sucked in a breath. “So the time slippage between the two lands remains significant.”
“That is working in our favor right now,” Nikolas said. “Have faith and stay strong. We’re fighting to get home to you.”
He didn’t mention how few of them were left to fight their way home. That, at least, was one blow he could spare her.
She shook her head. “You know my strength lies in combat spells, but I’m doing what I can. We all are.”
“It will be enough. Hold strong.” As he pushed conviction into every word, the spell was beginning to fray around the edges. He told her, “We’ll see you soon.”
Her slanted, green eyes turned fierce. She said, “When you get here, you’d better bring a talented healer with you, or we’ll have to abandon this land and Oberon with it.”
They would lose their home and their King, and Isabeau, Queen of the Light Court, would have won.
Nikolas’s determination hardened anew.
He would never let go of his home and King.
“That will never happen,” he said between his teeth. “I swear it. Not as long as I draw breath.”
Annwyn gave him a curt nod. “Good to hear.”
Her face began to break apart. Quickly before the spell frayed away completely, he said, “Until next time.”
As her image faded, she told him, “Fare well, old friend. Gods be with you.”
Silence fell over the clearing. The nine males regarded one another in grim silence.
They needed a healer but not just any healer. They needed a superb one proficient in both physical and magical arts.
They were low on funds, which meant they were low on supplies.
They needed sanctuary, real rest, and a way to break through whatever magic was blocking the crossover passageways.
And they needed Oberon to wake the fuck up. Maybe then they could rally enough to vanquish the bitch Queen once and for all.
Chapter Three
Two weeks after meeting Kathryn Shaw in LA, Sophie came to the last stage of her journey, and the engine in her rental car stopped.
As in flat out quit. No coughing, wheezing, or knocking to give her any warning. No puff of oily smoke. Click, off.
She almost pulled right. At the last moment, she remembered she was driving in England, not in the United States, and she yanked her wheel left. Not that it mattered since the area was deserted anyway.
Still, better to get off the road if she could instead of leaving the car stranded in the middle of the lane. The Mini coasted gently onto the shoulder and rolled to a stop with its snub nose resting in tall green weeds.
She turned the key in the engine. Nothing. The starter didn’t even turn over.
The woman was beautiful in the way of the Fae, with angular features and elegantly pointed ears, but instead of having the pale skin and black hair of the Dark Fae, or the golden skin and tawny hair of the Light Fae, she was spotted like a cheetah, her skin speckled with golden freckles.
Large green eyes and high cheekbones contributed to the effect. Her hair was a deep russet color, with streaks of gray at her temples. Laugh lines kissed the skin at the corners of her eyes and mouth, although currently there was no smile on her face. Instead, like the men who called upon her, the woman’s expression was grim and tight.
As the others held the spell strong and steady, Nikolas eased out of the casting. He said, “Annwyn.”
She turned, searching until she caught sight of him. Nikolas knew from experience she wouldn’t be able to see or hear the others in the circle, only him as he stood in the center.
Her expression lit with gladness. “Nikolas. It’s so good to see you.”
“And you,” he told her. “Have you made any more progress in waking Oberon?”
She shook her head, frustration evident. “Not since he fell under the enchantment. I don’t have the healing skills needed. None of our healers know what to do for Oberon. His body is cold as ice. I would think he was dead if it weren’t for the fact that I can feel a spark of his life force buried deep in his body, or the fact that his Power is raging out of control.”
His mouth tightened. Oberon was the strongest of the Dark Court, a weather mage, and their King. If his Power was left to rampage unchecked without his iron will to control it, it wouldn’t matter how hard his knights fought to break through the barriers that blocked the crossover passageways leading back to their lands.
Soon they might not have a home to return to.
“How bad is it?” he asked, dreading to hear the answer.
“The city is completely underwater,” she told him grimly. “And the sea keeps rising. We have evacuated to the highest point on the peninsula at Raven’s Craig, but I don’t know if it will be enough, and we’ve lost critical tracts of farmland. Even if the sea level stops rising, we’ll be facing starvation as our food supplies run out.”
They had lost Lyonesse? The news rippled through the group like a physical blow.
Braden had family in the Other land. His chanting faltered, causing the spell to waver. Nikolas shot him a warning look, and the other knight’s voice steadied.
“Annwyn, how long has it been since we last contacted you?” Nikolas asked.
He always asked when they talked. She replied readily, “A fortnight. And you?”
“Winter solstice,” he told her. “Six months ago.”
She sucked in a breath. “So the time slippage between the two lands remains significant.”
“That is working in our favor right now,” Nikolas said. “Have faith and stay strong. We’re fighting to get home to you.”
He didn’t mention how few of them were left to fight their way home. That, at least, was one blow he could spare her.
She shook her head. “You know my strength lies in combat spells, but I’m doing what I can. We all are.”
“It will be enough. Hold strong.” As he pushed conviction into every word, the spell was beginning to fray around the edges. He told her, “We’ll see you soon.”
Her slanted, green eyes turned fierce. She said, “When you get here, you’d better bring a talented healer with you, or we’ll have to abandon this land and Oberon with it.”
They would lose their home and their King, and Isabeau, Queen of the Light Court, would have won.
Nikolas’s determination hardened anew.
He would never let go of his home and King.
“That will never happen,” he said between his teeth. “I swear it. Not as long as I draw breath.”
Annwyn gave him a curt nod. “Good to hear.”
Her face began to break apart. Quickly before the spell frayed away completely, he said, “Until next time.”
As her image faded, she told him, “Fare well, old friend. Gods be with you.”
Silence fell over the clearing. The nine males regarded one another in grim silence.
They needed a healer but not just any healer. They needed a superb one proficient in both physical and magical arts.
They were low on funds, which meant they were low on supplies.
They needed sanctuary, real rest, and a way to break through whatever magic was blocking the crossover passageways.
And they needed Oberon to wake the fuck up. Maybe then they could rally enough to vanquish the bitch Queen once and for all.
Chapter Three
Two weeks after meeting Kathryn Shaw in LA, Sophie came to the last stage of her journey, and the engine in her rental car stopped.
As in flat out quit. No coughing, wheezing, or knocking to give her any warning. No puff of oily smoke. Click, off.
She almost pulled right. At the last moment, she remembered she was driving in England, not in the United States, and she yanked her wheel left. Not that it mattered since the area was deserted anyway.
Still, better to get off the road if she could instead of leaving the car stranded in the middle of the lane. The Mini coasted gently onto the shoulder and rolled to a stop with its snub nose resting in tall green weeds.
She turned the key in the engine. Nothing. The starter didn’t even turn over.
