Powerful Magic

by Karen Whiddon

  With slightly arched brows, Kenric's sister made no move to take it. Instead, she stared at the outstretched hand in apparent bafflement.

  Megan felt herself blush - all over. She lowered her arm slowly. She should have known better. Women in medieval times did not shake hands.

  Kenric grabbed her arm and pulled her into the crook of his. The gesture, meant she felt certain, to be comforting, stunned her. But, she had to admit, it did make her feel immensely better. Proving the hard warrior who'd found her did have feelings.

  "Megan hails from a far away place." Kenric pronounced, as if to explain her strange actions. "Dallas, Texas. Perhaps you have heard of it."

  Still silent, Kenric's sister watched them. Though she shook her head, a smile curved her generous lips.

  "Nay, I have not heard of this place." Her gaze drifted to Megan's face, her smile deepening. "I’m Rhiannon and I’m from…" She waved a graceful hand at the shining meadow, the sun glinting off her shimmering hair, "Rune."

  "Rune?" The name sounded unfamiliar, though Megan could have sworn Kenric had told her they were in Wales. "Where is Rune?"

  "Here." Kenric answered, his tone curt. "All around you. Rune is a kingdom in the land of Faerie."

  Rhiannon titled her head, studying Megan. This close to the stunning woman, Megan felt old, even though she knew she had to be the younger of the two. And plain. If this woman were to appear in New York City, she'd become an instant Supermodel.

  "Kenric was born here in Rune." Rhiannon said softly, like she had read Megan's mind. "He chooses to disavow this part of his heritage, but it all could be his. If he wanted it."

  Not sure she understood, Megan looked at Kenric. From his set jaw and grim expression, she saw he would not explain. Still, she would give him a chance before she asked his sister.

  "Kenric?" Tugging on his arm, Megan swallowed. "What does she mean? Are you some kind of--"

  "Enough." Though he did not raise his voice, he might have shouted, so great was the command in the simple word. "Sister, did you send this woman? Is she some minor princess from one of the other kingdoms of Faerie?" Drawing Megan closer, he put his big hand under her chin and lifted her face, his intent gaze fastened on her mouth.

  Even to Megan, Rhiannon's laugh sounded a trifle forced. Still, it made Megan think of wind chimes tinkling in a light breeze. "She is not from Faerie."

  "Did you send her to my cave?"

  Color stained the other woman's porcelain cheeks, though she held her head high. "Why would I do that?"

  Bending his head, Kenric touched Megan's lips lightly before replying. Though his mouth was warm, his eyes were like ice. "To tempt me."

  Though she knew Kenric mocked his sister, at the touch of his mouth on hers, Megan couldn't keep her breath from catching in her throat. Her heart tripped in her chest. Again, color flooded her face, making her curse her pale complexion.

  "She is not from my kingdom." Face alight with laughter, Rhiannon shook her head. Her long hair floated around her in a pale, golden cloud. "As you are of my blood, you know I would prefer you take a woman of Faerie to wife."

  Megan couldn't help it, she gasped. In that simple statement, Rhiannon had answered two of her questions. If Rhiannon was a Queen and, perhaps more importantly, a faerie to boot, then that meant Kenric was, what - a faerie also? Or a half faerie? She didn't know much about faeries, other than the fact they weren't supposed to exist, but if they did she imagined they would have liberal use of magic.

  Regarding the woman with new interest, Megan wanted to jump up and down with excitement. Magic might be exactly what she needed. Perhaps Rhiannon could help her get home.

  Like she sensed her enthusiasm, Rhiannon patted Megan's arm. "Not now, Megan Potter of Dallas Texas. You and I will talk later."

  Kenric's lip curled. "So you two do know each other."

  In the patient, loving manner of sisters everywhere,

  Rhiannon gave him an indulgent smile. "Nay brother, not yet. But I believe Megan Potter and I will know each other very well before the day is done."

  Frowning at his sister's ambiguous statement, Kenric shook his head like he needed to clear it. "Enough of this foolishness. I want to return to the real world, sister. Now."

  CHAPTER SIX

  Rhiannon's violet eyes twinkled. "You cannot wish to be stuck in that dreadful blizzard again."

  "No." Megan spoke up quickly, beating Kenric to the punch. There was no way she was going to pass up this opportunity to find out if this faerie woman, make that a faerie queen, could use her magic and help her return home. Both of them stared at her with identical expressions of surprise.

  "I don't want to freeze to death." She told Kenric, crossing her arms in front of her chest. "I want to stay here where it's warm."

  "You don't know what you say." He growled. "This is not a place of reality."

  "Just for a night." Emboldened by all that had happened, Megan moved closer and laid a hand on Kenric's massive arm. His skin felt warm, flushed. "One night of warmth, so that we can sleep. That way we'll be refreshed if we start back out tomorrow."

  "Time does not pass normally here." His gaze sharpened as he stared down into her upturned face. Something flickered in his expression - anger? Desire? Then it was gone. "One night can be a month, when you step back out of the glade."

  Megan found this hard to believe. But then, everything that had happened to her since she'd tried to meet Roger to break off her engagement was hard to believe. What was one more oddity?

  Still, she had no choice. This might be her sole

  opportunity to get back home. "I'm willing to risk it."

  He sighed, staring down at her with a shuttered expression.

  She stared back. Even angry the man was beautiful, in a ruggedly fierce, thoroughly masculine way. Looking at him made her mouth water.

  "Please." Leaning in closer to him, she unconsciously licked her lips, remembering his kiss. "One night."

  He watched her the way a hawk watched an unsuspecting mouse. This time she knew it was desire that darkened his arrogant gaze. To test her theory, she moistened her lips again.

  He caught his breath.

  She held hers. In a second, he would kiss her.

  Behind them, Rhiannon laughed, the light tinkling sound making them both jump. Megan realized she'd managed to forget all about Kenric's sister.

  "Come now." Rhiannon chided, her beautiful face alight with merriment. "There will be time for that later. For now, come with me."

  Without waiting for an answer, Rhiannon spun on her heel. Lightly stroking Lancelot's thick neck as she passed, she led the way, the huge war horse following her, as docile as a newborn colt.

  Megan slipped her hand into Kenric's large one, loving the way his enveloped hers. He started, but did not pull his fingers away.

  "Come on, let's go." She urged.

  Rhiannon and Lancelot disappeared around a curve in the path.

  "My horse." Kenric muttered under his breath. With a muffled oath he allowed Megan to lead him after his sister.

  #

  Kenric tamped down his fury. How had he let it come to this? The one thing he sought to avoid all his waking hours - contact with the world of faerie - had happened. And right in the middle of one of his simpler quests - finding the fair maiden Megan's betrothed. A more perfect endeavor he couldn't have found, for it involved no bloodshed, no fighting, no greed or avarice or any of the other human passions that he, despite his wish to be only human, so abhorred. This detachment was part of his elfin heritage, he supposed. Part of him, though he tried mightily to forget it, to pretend he was all human, all man.

  Like the magic that simmered always, just underneath his skin. Tempting him with its power, letting him know that if he were to use it, but once, he might have anything and everything his heart desired.

  For this reason alone, Kenric had vowed he would never use it. It was too strong, too dangerous, to enticing a lure. He knew not what he might become w
ere he to let it loose in the world of men.

  But he knew one thing - he would no longer be a mere man.

  God's teeth. He ran a shaking hand through his hair - his left hand, since his right was currently wrapped around Megan's small, soft-skinned one. He had not returned to Rune since his tenth summer, by choice.

  How had he let things get to this point?

  Megan tugged on him, urging him to hurry. With a sigh, he quickened his steps, allowing the tiny maid to drag him along after her like her personal pet. Now he knew how Lancelot - no, not Lancelot - his unnamed war horse must feel.

  He clenched his jaw. He'd rather face a blizzard, nay, a thousand blizzards than face what he knew was to come. It had been a long time since he'd seen his sister's family, so long that he didn't even think of them as part of his family. His family, his beloved human father and stepmother, human half-brother's and sisters, lay dead and buried in the hard, frozen ground. Gone. And the ache inside of him would never go away until he secured his land and produced some heirs - human heirs - to continue the line and lay his father's ghost to rest.

  No matter what Rhiannon wanted from him, he knew this duty came first, above all others. For this he had fought in wars whose causes he had forgotten. He had fought faceless enemies for pay, killed and bloodied until he knew he could bear no more. All for the land. Still, he had not amassed quite enough gold to purchase the kind of land he wanted.

  So fate had sent him Megan Potter of Dallas Texas, and with her, a much easier task. With it, a reward that was what he had always sought. So close, for once. So close he might reach out and touch it.

  And into this, his time of certain peace, of near-achievement of his goal, came his mischievous, fey sister. Hellbent, he supposed, on stirring up some sort of trouble.

  He would not, he decided, let her. Squaring his

  shoulders, he matched his stride to Megan's smaller one, and followed the winding path into the heart of his sister's kingdom. Into Rune, in the enchanted land of Faerie.

  "Kenric!" Megan gasped, stopping so quickly he nearly mowed her over. Her small fingers dug into his.

  "Look." Her voice trembled as she pointed to the crystalline castle that wavered and shimmered like an illusion in front of them.

  Despite his misgivings, he smiled down at her. Her expressive face was alight, reminding him of a small child who had been handed some sweet. Only beautiful Megan, with her full mouth and wide, amber eyes, was no child.

  Again, he felt an overpowering urge to take her in his arms and claim her mouth with his.

  Resisting, Kenric cast a suspicious glance at his sister. But she appeared to pay them no attention, focusing instead on greeting several of her retainers. Elfin men, tall and slender and golden. All of whom stared with interest at his Megan.

  His Megan? Kenric shook his head, bemused. Where had that thought come from? Probably more of Rhiannon's enchantment, meant to befuddle and confuse him for her own devious entertainment.

  Even after all these years, he still did not trust her. He did not trust any of them, these people of Faerie, of magic. After all, someone from Rune had killed his human family. Someone from Rune had destroyed his world.

  Pushing the bitter memories aside, he focused on Megan. She, he couldn't help but notice, watched the elfin men with a sort of curious interest.

  "Who are they?" She whispered, leaning close, her lovely caramel eyes wide.

  Wondering if she knew how tightly she still clutched his hand, Kenric drew her closer, until the curve of her hip was nestled against his side. Though the gesture spoke of possession, it was a message he felt necessary to send to the other men, if only for the absentee Roger's sake. "Faeries." He told her, nearly laughing out loud at the way her eyes widened.

  "Are they... that is..." She swallowed, never taking her gaze from them. "Wow. I didn't really believe your sister was a faerie, you know?"

  He chuckled. God help him, he was beginning to understand her strange dialect. He actually knew what she meant by that last, disjointed statement.

  Rhiannon broke away from the group, her tinkling laugh grating on Kenric's nerves.

  "Come, Megan Potter." Extending a hand, the Queen of all Faeries beamed at them both. "Let me show you to your room."

  About to protest, Kenric refused to release Megan's hand when she sought to pull it free. Unease prickled along his spine. For some reason he did not want to be separated from her. Long ago he had learned to trust his instincts.

  "Kenric?"

  Not sure if it was Rhiannon or Megan who had called his name, Kenric lifted his head and scented the balmy breeze. He smelled nothing but the pleasant odor of the flowers, and the scent of fresh cut grass. Of course the danger he worried about must be imaginary, for no one would dare to hurt the half-brother of their queen, changeling or no, nor his human charge.

  Still, he did not wish to be parted from Megan.

  "I will go too."

  Rhiannon laughed again, making Kenric grit his teeth. "Do not be foolish, my brother." Rhiannon reached out, touching the back of his hand lightly so that he felt it involuntarily open. Still, to his gratification, Megan did not immediately pull free.

  With an amused sigh, Rhiannon took Megan's hand in her own slender one.

  "Kenric and I," Megan spoke up, her husky voice sounding strong, though it trembled, "stay together."

  Feeling an inordinate amount of pleasure at her words, Kenric looked down at her heart shaped face. It seemed this little Megan was wise as well as beautiful.

  "That's right."

  "My dear," Rhiannon spoke with the patience of one who is sorely tried, "you must freshen up and put on some suitable clothes."

  He saw Megan glance down at herself. Sans blanket, she still wore Kenric's too large tunic and baggy pants. Her pale face colored at Rhiannon's comment, making Kenric instantly sorry that he had not thought of it himself.

  "My sister is right." Though he did not like it, Megan had need of a gown, at least in this place. When they left, she could resume her masculine disguise, but as long as they were here there was no need of it.

  Wariness in her gaze, Megan watched him. Something she saw in his gaze must have reassured her, for she nodded.

  "I will go with you." She told Rhiannon, once again speaking with the dignity of a lady born. "If Kenric says it’s all right, then I’ll believe it is."

  Hoping her blind trust wouldn't be misplaced, Kenric watched as his sister led Megan away. Who was this strange maiden, that she spoke so strangely yet comported herself with such quiet grace? Why, he wondered too, did she trust him so deeply on the basis of a few days acquaintance?

  Then again, he supposed she had no choice. He was all she had, until he restored her to her Roger.

  #

  Megan wondered if it was wise, letting Rhiannon separate her from Kenric. She felt no danger in the other woman's presence, but with the strangeness of her life lately...

  "Here we are." Rhiannon smiled, once again impressing Megan with her loveliness. She pushed open a heavy door, made of some material that resembled leaded glass, and lead the way into a room.

  "Your bed chamber."

  Stepping into the room was like stepping into a storybook. Everything was white, silver, or crystal. And, while she would have thought those colors would make the room cold, the room fairly vibrated with a glowing kind of warmth and serenity.

  "Wow." Megan grinned, gingerly testing the overstuffed bed with its downy white quilt. "I think I like it here."

  Rhiannon's expression turned serious. "This is good. It is time for my half-brother to embrace his destiny."

  Uh-oh. Megan should have known there'd be a catch to all this.

  "I'm sorry." She told the other woman, trying to pretend Rhiannon was just another woman, not a powerful faerie Queen. "Please don't try to involve me in your schemes for Kenric. I only want to go home."

  "Do you?" With this enigmatic comment, Rhiannon tilted her head. "Perhaps we can be of help to
each other."

  Megan froze. She hardly dared breathe. "Can you…” She cleared her throat. Voice breaking, she tried again. “Can you help me get back home?"

  "Will you help me with my half-brother?"

  Now she felt like she was in some convoluted game show or old movie, the hapless pawn who always makes the wrong choice. For a second, Megan closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and opened them.

  "Kenric has saved my life. I won’t do anything to hurt him."

  "I am his sister." Rhiannon seemed to tower over her, shimmering and beautiful in the sparkling light from the crystal chandelier. "I would not harm him either. But Kenric has great power, power that he must come to terms with to fulfil his destiny. He is a man torn - I only want him to find happiness."

  Megan hoped Kenric would forgive her. She hated to pry into his private life, especially since he'd not invited any confidences. "Are you saying he’s not happy now?"

  The stunning queen's eyes grew sad, her shimmer dimming. "He is but a shell of a man. Afraid to be faerie, afraid to be human. He doesn't believe in love, or hope, or magic. The Welsh revere him, though he hates them. They know of his mixed heritage. He carries a self-imposed burden so heavy that he is bowed beneath it, so he exists on the fringes of life."

  Thinking of the cave that Kenric had claimed for his home, Megan thought Rhiannon might be right. Kenric had said he had no family. Zero, zip. He'd totally left out his sister, and any relatives he might have here, in this strange and magical place.

  "Umm…" Swallowing, Megan wondered why she was prying even as she realized she had to know, "What is this burden you say he carries?"

  Rhiannon's luminous eyes grew wide. "He blames himself for the killing of his human family."

  Killing? Megan swallowed, trying to remember what exactly Kenric had said. “He told me his family was dead.”

  “Yes.” With a slow nod, Rhiannon confirmed this. "They were murdered by his enemies.”

  “Enemies? Here?”

  “Not in Rune. All here know of Kenric's great power - and of his refusal to use it. He is mentioned in prophecy, for his is a destiny is a path of greatness, if he will but take it. But, there are those of our kind," she waved her hand, silver streamers of light following the graceful movement, "who hate him, both for that and the fact that he is half human."