“Are you the one who sent Alrick to guard me?”
He nodded.
“And you came from the future? Is that right?”
Mort’s brows rose. “No small talk, eh?”
“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be rude. But I’d don’t really understand what’s going on.”
“I instructed Alrick to tell you.”
“Oh, he did. But everything he’s told me came from you. I’d like to get the scoop from the horse’s mouth, so to speak.”
If her analogy seemed strange to him, Mort didn’t show it. “What would you like to know?”
“Why me? Oh, I know I’m supposed to have some miraculous son, but I’m not even married. The chances of me getting pregnant any time in the near future are slim to none.”
Before the Mage could answer, Alrick and his twin brother entered the room. In all the pale colorlessness, crystal and glitter, their vitality made them stand out. Instead of going to the food, they headed straight for the two remaining chairs at her table.
“Yes, Mage of Future Rune.” Alrick’s voice sounded grim. “I too would like to know more specifics. If this Warlord is so blasted powerful, why can’t he summon enough energy to remain once he travels through time?”
“He is the only one who can do this. He is the one who discovered how to ride the river of time.”
“That makes no sense.” Cenrick leaned back in his chair, crossed his feet at the ankles, and watched them, his violet eyes serious. “You’re here from the future.”
“I am here because the Warlord sent me.”
Alrick straightened. “What?”
Feeling like she was watching a tennis match, Carly glanced from one to the other. “You are the Warlord’s ally?”
“Not ally, prisoner,” Mort corrected. “He sent me here as a test, to see if such a thing as time travel was possible without destroying the body.”
“He used you as a guinea pig?” Carly was horrified. “Not knowing whether you’d make it or not?”
Mort bowed his head. “He knew, if I lived, that once I came here to this time, I could not return to my own.”
“That makes no sense. The Warlord has appeared several times in this era. He seems to have no difficult going back and forth between times.”
“Yet he cannot stay. He must have learned how to come and go once he sent me here, but you will notice he never fully materializes. If he did, he would be trapped here. He could not return to his own era.”
“Learned more? Are you saying he may yet discover a way to show up here fully, take care of business, and go back to the future?”
The Mage grimaced. “With one as powerful as he, anything is possible.”
“You speak of learning.” Wrinkling his forehead, Cenrick spoke up. “Yet where did he obtain such knowledge? I have studied the possibility of time travel for years and learned little.”
“This, I do not know. Some have whispered he has aligned himself with dark forces. Others talk of a book of spells, one which he discovered and kept hidden. But no one knows for certain.”
“You are a Mage.” Suspicion colored Alrick’s tone. “You have access to knowledge and power the rest of us only dream of. Now you tell me you attempted to fight him and lost, letting him take you prisoner and use you in a bizarre and dangerous experiment. You should have been able to best this Warlord, yet could not. Why?”
“I was occupied with other things.”
Expression bleak, Alrick crossed his arms. “Other things. While you haven’t told me specifics about your time, I understand you were already battling this Warlord. Tell me, what so distracted you that you let your guard down and the Warlord was able to capture you?”
“The veil fell.”
Alrick’s head snapped up. “What?”
“With a spell, the Warlord made the veil between Rune and the human world disappear.”
Cenrick leaned forward. “That must have been some powerful spell.”
The Mage nodded. “No one knows how he did it.”
“But why?” Alrick began to pace. “Why would he want to tear down the veil?”
“He had hopes for a joyful sort of melding between humans and Fae. But the opposite happened. In fact, humankind regarded us first with suspicion, then outright terror. The wars began.”
Carly’s head hurt. Rubbing her temples, she tried to assimilate all the bizarre information.
“How can this be possible? If my son is to be a contemporary of the Warlord, these events can’t be too far in the future. Wouldn’t we have had some warning that all this was going to happen?”
“I keep up with your world. All your country’s intelligence gathering is focused on terrorists,” Cenrick pointed out. “Guys with bombs and guns who kill in the name of hatred. Who’s going to believe some guy who wants people to believe in Faeries, for Myrddin’s sake?”
Put that way, she saw his point. She looked at the Mage. “What about me and my son? Where do we come in on all of this?”
“I can see you’re tired.” Mort rose. “And the story is a long one. Suffice to say your son will lead a group in opposing the Warlord.”
“A leader.” Carly felt the strangest sense of déjà vu, then realized she was thinking of an old movie, The Terminator. “My son will be a good man, a good leader, right?”
“Yes. And you might as well know, his name will be Lance.” Mort smiled at her. “Your son.”
Where before the idea she would have a son was nice, it was in the abstract. When she’d tried to picture this mysterious, future offspring she saw only a wavery, blurry image of an infant wrapped in blankets. But this… Now…
“You’ve given him a name.” She spoke softly, hearing the tears in her voice. “My child. Lance.”
Alrick covered her hand with his. Surprised, she looked at him, grateful for the gesture of support. “Now do you see why I must protect you?”
Slowly, she shook her head. “This is all too confusing. And weird.”
“But at least you understand the severity of the threat?” This from the Mage, with one hand on the door.
“I think so.” She squinted at him. “Though I’m sure I’ll have more questions later. Thank you, Mort. Thanks a bunch.”
“Mort?” Both brothers exclaimed.
“That’s his name.” Carly stuck out her chin. “Though he prefers ya`ll call him Mage.”
As one, they turned to stare at the Mage. Though the tips of his ears blazed red, he appeared unruffled by her disclosure. “Explore the castle, the grounds. Rune is a beautiful place. Alrick can show you around.”
“Am I safe here?”
“Oh yes.” Mort’s smile widened. “As powerful as the Warlord is, even he wouldn’t dare show his face in Rune.”“Why not?” Cenrick asked. “Our people are unprepared, not used to violence. They have grown complacent and lazy, preferring to spend their time playing and partying rather than learning new spells or perfecting their magic.”
Alrick started to protest, but a sweep of the Mage’s hand cut him off.
“True, but there is little to thwart him in the human realm.” He grinned. “Unless you count the weather, and he doesn’t stick around for that.”
“I imagine what he’s doing must take a lot of magical power.”
“Yes.” The Mage’s smile faded. He pinned both Carly and Alrick with a look. “But watch out. If he ever learns how to materialize fully, he’ll be a hundred times more dangerous.”
“Unstoppable?”
“I didn’t say that.” Moving back into the room, Mort crossed to Carly and touched her arm. “You must understand, my dear, you are our only hope. Your son must be born. This is why Alrick has been charged with keeping you safe. If there is no Lance, the Warlord and his followers will destroy mankind and Fae both.”
Chapter Seven
“ARE YOU all right?” Later, as he gave Carly a tour of the palace, Alrick noted her too-pale face and unsteady walk.
“I’m fine.” Yet she continue
d her death-grip on his arm. “This place is fascinating. And safe.” Her chuckle sounded more like a sob. “I’m beginning to think I’d rather not leave.”
“Most humans feel that way once they’ve seen Rune.”
“Most humans don’t have some crazy Warlord after them.”
“True.” She’d heard the Mage. She understood her destiny as well as he.
“But we have to go back, once you are fully recovered.” He found himself wanting to kiss the top of her head. “You know that.”
“Yeah, I do.” She sighed. “Believe me, I’d much rather go home – if my life could return to normal.”
They continued to stroll silently. Enjoying the feel of her leaning on him, Alrick left her to her own thoughts, though he watched her carefully. She still hadn’t recovered fully. At the first hint that she needed to rest, he’d send her back to her bed.
“I’d like to see Kayo and TM, make sure they’re all right.”
This, Alrick could understand. Despite her uneasiness around the young stallion, her love for the horse and dog was evident. Though she still seemed fragile, the day was balmy, and the fresh air might bring color back to her cheeks. “Are you sure you can?”
She shot him a look between her long lashes. Her freckles seemed to stand out in sharp relief. “What, you don’t think I can make it?”
He kept his face expressionless, knowing if he smiled she’d take immediate offense. “Carly, you’ve recently been injured. I don’t wish you to overtax yourself so soon.”
“Whatever,” she shrugged, but still didn’t release his arm. “I’m stronger than I look. And I want to see my animals.”
“What’s TM stand for, anyway?”
A shadow flitted across her expression. “Texas Magic,” she told him, her gaze far away, on other memories. “Liam and I always said he’d be the magic we needed to make a go of the ranch.” The next step she took wobbled. He didn’t hesitate. Scooping her up in his arms, he lifted her and strode towards the door.
“Hey –!”
“You were stumbling,” he growled. What he did not tell her was how much he liked holding her or how disturbing he found her scent. The light floral essence had followed her to Rune, surviving the explosion and injury. She felt so light, yet so feminine, her curvy bottom draped over his arms.
To his surprise, once she’d made her initial protest, she rested her head against his chest. Surely she could hear the rapid pounding of his heart, or the jagged breaths he now took. He hoped she’d put them down to exertion.
“Where are my pets?”
Deliberately, he forced his thoughts back to the situation at hand. “You consider TM a pet?”
“In a way. He and Kayo are all I have.”
“You have me.” He hadn’t meant to say the words, but once said, didn’t regret them. All in all, they were only truth. She ¬did have him, as long as the Warlord was after her.
“I can walk now,” she said. “Please.”
He let her slide out of his arms, holding her close until she’d found her feet on the cobblestone path.
“TM is in the barn. I put Kayo in the stall with him. They seem to get along, so I thought they’d each like the company.”
“Do you have a stallion stall for him here?” Her expression unreadable, she peered up at him. “If your barn is made out of the same fragile stuff as your palace, he’ll tear the place down.”
“Crystal does not so easily shatter.”
“Really?” She didn’t seem impressed. “I’m more worried about the injury TM might do to himself if he’s not handled correctly.”
“Don’t worry.” The barn had come into view, the shining building impressive, or at least Alrick found it so. He’d had it patterned after an old colonial barn, with two stories. “We’ve got a lot of experience in dealing with stallions and mares. In my spare time I bread horses.”
“In your spare time…” Staring at him, she appeared stunned. “You’ve never mentioned this before.”
“There is much about each other we don’t know.”
“True.” She looked away. Intrigued, he saw the color rise in her pale cheeks.
“I’m sure my people have taken good care of your stallion.” Smiling, he did his best to appear unconcerned. Yet the fact was; he’d been so worried about Carly that he’d paid little attention to giving the stable-hands instructions regarding TM’s accommodations. He could only hope they hadn’t assumed he was there for breeding purposes.
He kept his face expressionless as they neared the barn. The crowd spilling out the door and crowding the center aisle gave him warning.
“What—?”
One of the group clustered outside looked up at him and grinned. “A mating,” he said. “Looks to be a good one too.”
“Oh, no,” he groaned.
“Mating?” Carly froze. “TM?”
“I don’t know.” But he did. TM was the only stallion in the barn. Most of the Fae herd was off in summer pastures. Only a few of the best mares were kept nearby for the royal family.
The crowd was beginning to disperse, telling him the deed had been accomplished.
Giving up her futile attempt to push through the crowd, Carly evidently reached the same conclusion. “I sure hope they at least chose a good mare.” She gave him a wan smile. “Maybe this will settle him down some.”
“All my mares are good.” And he wasn’t boasting. He took great pride in the beauty of his horses.
Nodding, she tried to turn and then staggered. “Damn.” She put out her hand to steady herself. He took it, helping her stand upright.
A teenager with a shock of nearly white hair grinned at Alrick as he passed. “This one will take, I bet. A fine foal will come out of this.”
Alrick nodded, searching the crowd. His head stable- hand noticed and hurried over. “Do you wish me to separate them when they’ve finished, your highness?”
“Of course.” Still supporting Carly, Alrick jerked his thumb over his shoulder at the barn. “Who gave the order to mate those two?”
“Why I did, of course.” The other man looked confused. “That was why you brought the stallion to us, was it not? That’s the only reason you ever bring stallions to the barn. He serviced each of your four mares?”
Alrick sighed. “Each?”
Oblivious, the man nodded. “Shehra is his last.”
Eyes closed, Carly groaned. “I’m thinking I might have to charge you stud fees.”
Dismissing the man with a gesture, Alrick found himself chuckling. “Fine.”
“You know what?” She sounded gravely serious.
“Hmm?”
“Even in the midst of all this upheaval, life renews. At least one of those mares should be with foal.”
He tightened his arms around her. “Remember, you shall have your own child one day.”
When she lifted her eyes to his, he saw the sheen of unshed tears. “Yeah, I know. But it sure seems impossible to me now.”
“Everything will work out. You should always have hope.” He nearly winced as he spoke, but platitudes were all he had to offer. He had his own path to follow, different from hers.
“Hope.” She stiffened in his arms. “Let me tell you about hope. When Liam was hit, he didn’t die immediately. He was in intensive care, in critical condition. I prayed. For days. In the beginning, I had hope – hope he’d recover. Hope we could have a normal marriage. Hope we’d be together always.” Her voice broke. “None of that happened. Liam died. I no longer believe in hope.”
Shaken, he tightened his arms around her. “You don’t have faith, do you? You don’t think you’ll make it through this.”
“I—.” She gave a slow shake of her head. “I don’t know what to believe.”
“You speak like you’re giving up, as if you plan to let the Warlord kill you.” A horrible thought occurred to him. “Since you lost your husband – do you have a wish to die too?”
“No, no death wish. I’m merely fatalistic. If
it’s meant to happen, it will. There’s nothing you or I can do to change what’s meant to be.”
“Nonsense,” he exploded. Fury and fear and pity combined inside him, frustrating him. How could he make her see? “We control our own destiny. Look at yours; look at the destiny you’ve been given. Think of Lance, and then you will understand the true meaning of the wordhope.”
“You don’t understand. While the idea of having a son is precious to me, Liam and I wanted children, Alrick. Three. This idea that I’m to bear another man’s child – you think this will give me hope?” She spoke as fiercely as he, anger warring with the tears still in her eyes.
Finally, he understood. “You love him still.”
She didn’t look away. “Of course I do. He was my husband, my other half. When Liam died, I didn’t think I could continue to live. Even breathing hurt too much. Every morning I wake up, take one breath after another, put one foot in front of the other, and make it through the day. Alone.”
His throat constricted as he stared down at her. He searched for his own words, words that would make her understand, words that would make her see. Finally, he found them. “You’ve had an entire year to mourn, Carly Roberts.” He kept his tone formal, the stern teacher lecturing the student. “But now the time has come to think of others besides yourself. If you don’t want to hope for a better future, so be it. There is nothing I can do to change how you feel. But I will protect you, no matter what. I won’t let you die. Your son, this unborn lad whom you will name Lance, he will be the embodiment of hope. To numerous, unnamed others.”
Gazes locked, they stared at each other. Finally, she gave a small nod and closed her eyes. “Let’s go back to my room. I need to rest.”
He kept his arm around her waist and they made their way back to the palace. She appeared not to notice the thousands of fragrant flowers lining the cobbled path, nor the brightly colored birds that turned out to greet her with trilling songs of welcome.
Her expression looked tight, her lips pinched. Exhaustion had made hollows under her eyes and dulled their emerald sparkle. When at last they reached the palace, the sunlight reflected off the crystal, sending sparks of gold to adorn her copper colored hair.
Lone Star Magic Page 9
