by Tamara Gill
The question startled her. She swallowed. “Nothing fatal.” She quickly went on at their pained looks to get it out, like pulling off a bandaide. “He appeared badly malnourished. His wrists are swollen and chafed where the spelled bands bite into his skin. The worst of it was two ribs broken and a few deep cuts. The witch is content to wear him down I think.”
“Spelled bands?” Shaw ran a hand across his jaw. “Yet Toren got past them to open a rift?”
“He did.” She nodded. “But for a short time only. The glowing bands pulled him to the witch after I was able to help him.”
“But ye healed him?” Edeen leaned forward and her hair spilled across her folded knees.
Charity frowned. “I...did, but then didn't.”
“You didn't heal him?” Col’s brows pulled together above startling green eyes.
“I did. The first time.” As the trio studied her, Charity told them about how Toren had first come to her and she learned of the witch when she connected with him and healed him. She thought that was important for them to know if they were to trust her. She needed them to trust her. The shocked disbelief on their faces as she told the tale made her nervous. She really wished she had the use of her hands for emphasis.
She finished with how Toren was snatched back by Aldreth and how she had traveled back to that first moment they met, didn’t heal him the second time, well, much, and hitched a ride through that crazy abnormal time rift on Toren's magic to end up at this point. Only outside of the witch’s castle instead of inside with him. “So there you have it.”
They just had to believe her.
Stunned silence coated the air. Edeen's eyelashes fluttered as though she couldn't quite grasp the truth of it.
Col's lips twisted. He opened his mouth to speak, but took a steadying inhalation instead and let it out in a rush. His hand strayed back across his dark unruly waves and he attempted to speak again. “That's quite the telling. You're from centuries beyond us?” Maybe they did believe her. He shook his head. “And you believed ye could simply travel back here and pluck my brother out from under the grasp of the most fearsome witch of a hundred generations?”
It sounded stupid put like that. She shrugged since she couldn't lift her arms, which were getting sweaty within the thick plaid cloth, not that any of them cared.
“What about these leather bands on Toren's wrists?” Shaw said, then to Col: “Has to be how she's kept him imprisoned him this long.”
“Aye,” Col agreed. “If Aldreth's spelled them to his very person, getting Toren out won't be enough. Our plan of rescue won’t be enough. We have to think of something else.”
Shaw went very still, carved in stone still. “We—” His throat worked and his strong features seemed to close up. “We take the clan to the standing stones.”
Col and Edeen swirled to their feet, fluid motions of skirts and kilt entangling.
“What? No, Shaw,” Edeen pled. “Leave Toren with that witch? She'll kill him.”
“She won't kill him.” Col's voice choked with sorrow. “Ye know that, Edeen. She's patient. She'll wear him down, break him before it comes to that.”
“Even worse. Nay.” Tears glistened in the girl's eyes. Col took his sister's hands between his. Charity's heart squeezed
Shaw stared down at her. “Had the healer not taken back her healing, we would have more time to figure out a proper rescue.” His tone was bitter with contempt. “Toren will break. No mortal, even a sorcerer as strong as Toren, can stand for long against the Witch of Alduein. We'll break camp on the morrow and begin gathering the clan.”
Without another look at her, Shaw bent and left beneath the doorway. Shoulders stooped, Edeen followed him out, calling after him while Col turned back, eyeing Charity with a strange look before he too left her alone in the makeshift hut.
Charity's breasts rose and fell with her breathing. What had she done? What had she done? She’d made things worse. Their whole clan was going to disappear just like in Lenore’s book because of what she’d just told his family. It would have been better if she hadn’t said anything, or if they hadn’t found her...which...wait. What was Shaw’s party doing near the castle?
Oh crap, they must have been on a type of recon mission, studying the lay of the land and the stone castle to make plans for a rescue attempt. But she had inadvertently gotten in the way of that. In the histories, the entire clan disappeared. Nothing more was known of them. Nor of what had become of Toren. She'd wanted to save him, but instead she'd taken away any hope that his family had of rescuing him.
They weren’t even going to try now, but leave him abandoned to the witch.
Charity curled over on herself, shaking. She never should have come because she'd singlehandedly just made things far, far worse.
CHAPTER TEN
Toren could barely lift his head. The last round with Aldreth’s whip-master had taken more from him than he could say. His back burned, an inferno of ragged flesh that threatened to sweep him over the edge of the volcano from which he’d never return. He had to remain alert, had to focus his mind on something else before he became lost to pain and madness. He could not give in. Could never give in. He turned his thoughts to intelligent violet eyes and puzzling speech. She said she would save him, yet held back her healing gifts and threw herself into his hastily conjured rift instead. He didn’t understand, just knew at that moment he couldn’t let her perish from the spell of the bands pulling him back. So he’d oblique the Healer Enchantress, using the last of his reserves and now paid the price for it beneath Aldreth’s lash and he did not even know why.
He could not really be certain that ‘twas not all trickery, another ploy of Aldreth’s to confuse him. Yet truth be confessed, he could not rid the maiden from his thoughts. There was something about her, something familiar, like awakening from a dream that he could not bring back to mind.
Charity. She had freely given her name, her true source of power. Yet she was clearly working for Aldreth or at least the witch had some sort of hold over her, otherwise she would have healed him, would she not?. ‘Twas a healer’s creed to heal all she could.
“I'm going to save you Toren Limont. I need you to trust me.”
Trust her? She'd pretended to begin to heal him and then sabotaged his magic and used it for her own purposes—whatever they may be—and then slipped through time on the strength of his power. Strength that he desperately needed now to resist Aldreth.
Mayhap that had been the ploy. Trickery to siphon away his reserves. Well, it had worked. Yet...even still he was hard-pressed to belief the maiden, this Charity, had meant him harm.
It made no sense. The flush of fever heated his skin where the cold grainy stone dug into the whip lashes upon his back where he hung against it from his wrists. Aldreth had been livid upon his return. Mayhap he'd imagined the entire happening? Mayhap he had not really circumvented the hold on the spelled bands, short time that it lasted, and traveled through time at all? Aye, and mayhap Aldreth had set her whip master upon him for no other reason than it pleased her.
Which it did. She had watched each stripe of the lash with rapt attention, a heady excitement flush upon her features. She’d traced her finger along his bloody chest and brought it to her lips. ‘Twould not amaze him had she taken up the lash herself.
His sanity was slipping, no longer able to tell dreams from truth.
He must conserve his reserves, little that remained. Mayhap Shaw had already taken his family and clan to Reolin Skene and from there into the Shadowrood and they were beyond the witch’s reach. If that were so, if there was some way for him to know with certainty that they were safe, then holding out against Aldreth would be a moot point and at least his soul would have peace as the witch stripped the last of his humanity from him.
If only he had a way of knowing they were gone, safely within the realm of the Fae.
I'm going to save you.
Toren ground his head back against the wall.
Dam
n the healer and damn her soothing healer’s voice. He did not want to think on her because her lie pulled to him. He ached to believe her. Believe that there was something to do that could spare him. Those dark violet eyes had been so convincing, he’d almost fallen prey to her lies. He had fallen prey. He’d brought her here to his time. He’d let his guards down and let her magic touch upon his. Her magic had been weak, insignificant, yet he’d felt...something. An allure, something so right and familiar about her he’d opened his magic to hers.
And what had she done with it?
Used him.
She rode his magic back to his time and abandoned him.
To scurry off to Aldreth and comply with her mistress’s bidding.
‘Twas fitting that healers were also called enchantresses.
They took a man’s hope and belief only to stomp it into the ground like dust under her dainty traitorous feet.
Despair pressed into his heart.
Exhausted and shivering from fever, Toren let his head sink and tried to force the image of the beguiler’s sweet face out of his thoughts.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
It took time and an inordinate amount of squirming and shifting into angles that would make her yoga instructor proud, but Charity managed to finally shimmy her arms free of the long plaid and after that the damn cloth was simple enough to get out of. Now to figure out how to wear it properly and get away from this hut. The thing folded and wrapped in far too many lengths.
“You'll find these more to your liking.” Edeen crouched through the doorway, carrying a bundle of dark wool and what she supposed passed for boots. Rough stitched leather with cross-lacings. “We seem to be of a like size.”
Riiiight. If Charity had been blessed with something larger than a B cup.
“Uh, thank you.” Grateful to have anything besides an overlong blanket, Charity lifted the coarse purple dress over her head and let the plaid drop around her ankles as the gown settled around her body. It was surprisingly comfortable and warm.
Tapping a finger at the side of her cheek, Edeen's brows furrowed. “You've put it on backwards. Let me to assist. You're really from centuries beyond, aren't you?”
“Yes. I told you.”
Edeen helped her shift the gown around and cinch up the cross ties in the back, pulling the waist in form-flattering tight. “'Tis difficult to think of it.”
They sat on the ground and Edeen showed her how to wear the long hose and lace up boots. Edeen's voice lowered. “The bands on Toren's wrists were covered in symbols, aye?”
Charity's fingers stilled on the boot laces.
Edeen's eyes flicked up and locked with hers. “Can ye recall them?”
“You're going after him, aren’t you?”
Edeen glanced toward the short doorway and quickly nodded.
“Shaw doesn't know, does he?”
“He will never allow it.”
“Why? Does he not care about his own brother?”
Hurt and temper flashed across Edeen's features. “He cares. If anything, he cares too deeply, but he understands our duty to the magic, our charge to never disrupt the balance. If Aldreth turns even one of us to her darkness, all is lost.”
“Why?”
“Our magic, the magic of our clan, is shared. In times of great need, Clan Limont can come together and bolster our magic through our High Sorcerer especially, through Toren, yet also through any of our family, myself, Col, or Shaw. Should the witch or any other of dark power lay claim to that...”
“That combination of magic would be tremendous.”
“Aye, and unbalanced. It cannot happen. If we cannot save Toren, we must cut him off from the clan.”
“Toren would never—”
“He will fight her to the end of his sanity, he will, but magic cares naught if its keeper is in his right mind. The witch will win. Eventually.” Her voice cracked. “She will corrupt my brother, though his mind and spirit will be destroyed in order for her to do so. We cannot blend our magic with a wielder who has consorted and taken from demonkind. Aldreth’s magic will join with him and her evil taint will tilt the balance to a black stain. Though our clan will fight the pull of it to our very cores, together she and Toren will be too much for even all of us together. Ye have no notion of what that will unleash.”
“Monsters.” Charity's vocal chords felt raw, though her small plea silenced Edeen. “Vampires, werewolves, hobgoblins, ghouls, the dark Fae...”
Edeen's chest heaved in and out as though she'd been running. “We cannot allow that to happen. All we can do is go into the Shadowrood before Toren is touched by darkness. If his magic is unbalanced, ‘twill filter into all our magic. Our clan has to leave and take our magic that once belonged to the Shadowrood with us to keep the world safe from the darkness. Safe from what we will all become. Otherwise....”
“Otherwise your clan that is so strong together and meant to hold off the darkness will become the worse darkness. The taint will grow and fester and my century will be overrun with everything evil that exists with magic.” She shivered. A thin layer of ice formed around her heart. History had already claimed the Limonts. Their clan had already gone into the Shadowrood, disappeared. And if they did not, the magical balance would be disrupted and evil would overcome light. The clan had done what they could, sacrificed themselves to another realm so that her time, her family, her sister—would not be overrun in darkness.
The entire future from this point forward would be changed.
“Is there...?” Edeen drew back, her fingers pawed at the folds of her gown over her bent knees. “Is your time bereft of magic?”
Charity frowned. “There's some, though mild. We sift what we can from the land.”
“Earth magic.” Edeen nodded. “'Tis good that some remains. So we succeed? We leave this world?”
She probably shouldn't tell her this what with messing around with fate and the Butterfly Effect, but who says she wasn't fated to spill the beans anyway? After all, Shaw and Col had been scouting Aldreth's place to rescue Toren when she'd popped in on them. Shaw had changed plans, making the decision to take the clan into the Shadowrood after she'd told him about the spelled bands. Who says she wasn't brought here for that very purpose? “Your clan vanishes. No one knows what happened. You and all your clan simply ceased to exist as far as history recounts.”
Edeen nodded solemnly, though there was a tiny flutter of her fingers. “Then... mayhap Shaw is right.” Her eyes glistened with unshed tears. “We must leave Toren to his fate.” Her eyes lifted, pleading. “Do your histories reveal what happens to him?”
Charity could barely speak around the closing muscles in her throat. The woozy drop of blood pressure threatened to pull her under. “No. There's nothing.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Silence strained the air between them.
“Edeen, you and your brothers do what you must, go to the Shadowrood if you believe that’s best, but I promised Toren I would save him.” And she would. The image of Toren chained to that wall flushed angry heat through her body.
Charity shifted to stand, but Edeen pulled her back to the ground. The girl's fingers dug into her wrist.
“Ye know me naught, but do not believe that I would ever abandon any of my brothers without trying first to save them.”
They stared at each other across the charged atmosphere. Charity nodded, her limbs heavy with relief. She didn't have to do this on her own and since she didn't know how to get back to Aldreth's castle after the trek through the forest dangling upside down from Shaw's shoulder, she wasn’t certain she could find her way back anyway. She had no idea where the dang castle was.
“Can ye recall the symbols?” Edeen's features had gone soft, pleading.
“Upon Toren's wrists?” Charity scraped her teeth across her bottom lip. “A little. This was in the center.” She traced a spiral in the dirt floor and then added a jagged line shooting off its end. “It glowed. Do you know it? Will you be able to get the ban
ds off of him?”
“That's Aldreth's mark, her family's symbol. 'Tis very old, very powerful. The mark of the High Sorcerer of Alduein. If 'tis that which binds my brother, he could not overcome it. 'Tis a wonder he was able to break free long enough to travel upon time. Do ye remember more? If I can see what combination the witch has spelled it with, I may be able to unravel the binding properties enough to get him free.”
Charity's stomach dropped like a stone. “I'm sorry. I don't remember. I saw them for only a second. A moment,” she clarified at the girl’s questioning expression.
Forehead puckered, Edeen's lips pinched tight. “Mayhap I can help with the remembering. I can guide you to the memory of it.”
As an empath, sifting through memories should pose no challenge, but...Charity wasn't crazy about letting someone tiptoe freely around inside her head. She hadn’t been too thrilled when she thought Toren had felt her emotions when she had felt his. It was just...personal. But if it’s what it took... “Okay.”
Edeen's eyes narrowed.
“Yes, I'll do it.”
“As simply as that?”
“As simply as that. I'm telling you, I came here to help Toren. And if this will help, then okay. Let’s do it.”
Frowning, Edeen nodded and reached for her hand. When Charity stiffened, Edeen smiled. “'Twill not be painful.”
“Okay, yeah. It's just—” She shook her hands. “It's a little weird.”
She wasn't sure what she expected but the quiet nothing wasn't it. Edeen closed her eyes so Charity guessed she was meant to do the same.
And sat there, waiting...expectant.
She opened one eye to see if anything had changed. Edeen remained across from her, serene, breathing evenly, with her eyes still closed, thick lashes peaceful on her cheeks.
Charity closed her own eyes again and thought of Toren. She worried about him. Every moment she spent safe here in this stupid wigwam, he was suffering beneath Aldreth's hand—and she hadn't even healed him in this reset timeline, given him the respite he'd traveled so far through time to receive.
