by Viola Grace
And she had seen true magic.
The days at Camp Silverwood had been full of fun, but the nights were fantastic. They were called, drawn, to the lake where the magic had been awakened within them. She had always felt it, sensed something fantastic right at the edge of her mind. The whispered instruction had been all she needed to spring into life.
Now this idiot was trying to see her naked. Fine. “Give me the cloth.” She clambered out of the water without further ceremony and stood stark naked in front of two very interested males.
“Uh, of course, Fiona.” A suddenly sheepish Baenwik handed her the length of linen he was clutching.
She wrapped it around her once and used the trailing end to dry her hair. It was wild after her exertions. The water had only loosened the tangles. “Do you know if anyone is looking for me? Police? My friends?”
“Hmm. No they are not.”
“Now, why would that be?”
“They think you are dead.”
Her butt hit the stone with a painful thud, the silver chain slithered against the rock. “What?”
Chapter 7
“I left a simulacrum of you in the forest. I used your hair for the creation, so your dee-hen-ay will be intact.” Baenwik seemed pleased that he had gotten all of the vernacular correct.
She absently fumbled with her hair and felt the piece that was shorter than the others. “They think I am dead?”
“Yes. This leaves you free to pursue your magic.” He was happy. As if he had solved a problem for her.
“I don’t want to pursue my magic. I want to pursue my life!” The linen hit the floor and she advanced on him. She was furious and every muscle in her body felt it. She wanted to kill him, beat him and drown him in that damned pool. She was just getting up some speed when the chain brought her up short. Incoherent fury filled her and she kept lunging against the chain and screaming, the images of her friends and family mourning her, filled her mind.
Ander filled her vision as Baenwik fell back at the sight of her fury, “Please excuse me,” his fist clipped her in the jaw and everything fell into an explosion of pain.
* * * *
Waking up was sudden. One minute everything was dark, then it was light again. This time it was all light, but the light was torches. Baenwik was done showing off for her. Now it was all about survival. His survival.
Fiona still had the delicate chain on her left wrist, but now there was one that matched it on her right. Her arms were bent behind her and she was seated on the floor of a cavern against a pillar of rock that was smooth on all sides. She was still naked, but now she was cold.
“I hope you are feeling better, Fiona. It pained me to see what Ander did to you, but you were a little overly emotional at the time.” Baenwik leered at her.
Bondage turned him on, if his erection was any indication. Freak. Ander was slightly more in control and rolling his shoulders in preparation for battle. He was still keeping up his injured act. Well, Fiona hoped it was an act. If that was his true battle face, she was in trouble. He looked half asleep.
“When you count us down, we will engage in combat for your hand. Begin at ten and work backward.”
Pretty boy looked like he was going to enjoy his victory. And if he won, she wouldn’t be released from this pillar for some time. Ick. She looked at them both and weighed her options. She tried once again to find her way free. Images flashed through her mind of her, Ander and a great black horse. So, he was indeed her ticket out. Now she hoped he won. Really. It was a choice between the sex fiend and the pervert. She was picking the fiend. At least she could punch him. “Ten, nine” she kept counting and watching their readiness. When she reached, “Three,” they both tensed and by the time she reached, “Two, one.” They were lunging forward, arms at the ready.
She didn’t know what she expected, but for them to stop inches from each other and use their energies to wage the battle was slightly anticlimactic. Moonlight and sunlight battled for supremacy. It was beautiful, but boring.
She watched Ander’s muscles bunch and contract as he pressed his advantage. He had been replenished and his opponent didn’t know it. Baenwik’s shocked face was proof enough. He was being moved backward under the pressure of magic he was unable to tap to use for the match. The energy that he had originally stolen from Ander was dwindling too rapidly. He was burning too bright.
Each step that he was forced backward was another addition to the rage in his face. When he reached the invisible lines they had drawn, probably when she was unconscious. They had certainly had the time.
With a final and deliberate blast, Ander shoved Baenwik out of the circle, then threw back his head and roared his triumph. “It is done. Free her.”
“She still has to choose.” He stood slowly and dusted his butt off.
“Release me and I will choose.” She held the chains up for their perusal. “This isn’t comfortable, boys.”
Grumbling, Baenwik released the left wrist and then moved to the right. Honourably, he stepped away from her and gestured for her to choose. “Choose, the dark or the light.”
She paced back and forth between the two of them. “The light has obvious charms, but so does the dark. I choose the dark.”
Ander’s face lit up and he took his position as her body guard and consort very seriously. Immediately he scooped her up and made a run for it with her in his arms. It was then that pretty boy made his move.
She was looking over Ander’s shoulder and saw the dagger. It descended with all the subtly of a hammer on an anvil. She squeaked in panic, but it was too late. Baenwik stabbed at Ander with a viciousness that belied his earlier manners.
He was a sore loser.
Chapter 8
Her squeak let Ander start to turn, but when the dagger parted flesh, he had to drop her. A fistfight ensued that made Fiona queasy. Pretty boy had been disarmed the instant Ander turned. Blood was everywhere, flowing down Ander’s back and flying through the air as he struck at the golden madman.
Pugilism was a lost art for a reason, it was brutal, violent and bloody. Baenwik was bleeding now as well. His face was swelling in a most unattractive manner and she could see he was tiring quickly. However he had captured Ander to start with, it had definitely not been in a fair fight. As suddenly as it started, it finished. Baenwik was on the ground and Ander turned to her, exhausted.
“Can you find our way out?”
“Yes. Can you walk?”
“Yes. My steed should still be nearby. He would not have dared to injure him.”
Fiona concentrated. It was clear to her. Dead ahead and to the left. Straight on and out into daylight. She grabbed his hand in hers and started forward, “This way.” She stopped and scooped up the dagger as they passed. They ran through the length of the cave, their bare feet slapping against the stone. “I should have stopped to put my clothes on.”
“He burned them. After he discovered your knife and flashlight.”
The torchlight was gone now, she was feeling her way through the caves longing for some illumination. Hmm. Her companion could glow, couldn’t he? “Ander, do you have enough energy to glow?”
“No. I used it all in the fight. Why?”
“This would go a lot faster if I could see where I was going.”
“You can’t see in this light?”
“What light?”
“You should have said something. Come here.”
The tang of sweat and blood mixed with the musk of male as he drew her into his arms. His fingers rubbed her back and buttocks as he pulled her flush against his body. His erection was a barrier, but his hands on her hips kept them firmly locked together.
He bent his neck, nestled his face in the hollow of her neck and inhaled deeply.
She returned the favour and soon had the heady pulse of arousal running through her veins. She shifted against him and he changed his position and his grip. He took her mouth with his as his fingers teased her into a sensual frenzy, moving from
her clit to her core and back again, using her own moisture to ease the way. His tongue teased her lips, his mouth drank from her and her eyes fluttered closed. As suddenly as her arousal started, it peaked. She moaned softly into his mouth and he chuckled.
“Enough light for you, my dear?”
Dazed, she opened her eyes to see his moonlight streaming from his skin. “Yeah. It should do. Any more might have killed me.”
“Ah, there is a reason that they call it the little death.” Ander twined his fingers with hers, “Shall we continue?”
“Yes, of course. This way.” Once again she led them through the caves, winding their way as rapidly as she could. She could feel the energy draining from her companion as rapidly as it had emerged. The dim light ahead of her finally outweighed the elf-light she was seeing by, and not a moment too soon. Ander was almost unconscious. “Ander. Ander! Where is your steed?”
He shuddered and looked around. His eyes were glazed with pain and exhaustion once again. “Over there.” He pointed to a copse of trees.
She led them carefully to the area he indicated.
“His name is Abax.” Ander had almost had it. He stumbled.
She hoped to find his horsy soon. “Abax! Come here, boy!” She called out and hoped like hell that he was still there. In the next instant, she remembered she could find him. Her mind showed her all the twists and turns through the underbrush and she knew that Ander wouldn’t make it. He was exhausted and had lost far too much blood. “Ander. Ander!” She had to yell as he had begun to slump against a nearby oak.
He looked over at her.
She spoke clearly, “I have to find Abax. I will be back as soon as I can. Take the dagger and wait here for me.” She waited until he nodded and then ran like a demented wood nymph into the forest. It wasn’t hard for her to get to the makeshift enclosure, but the steed penned by hedge and leather was far more beautiful than she could have imagined.
Ebony and midnight blue fought for supremacy on this creature and the eyes were blue flame. The marble horn was a bit of a surprise.
“Abax? Are you Abax?” She had no idea what else it could be, but she thought she would be polite.
The unicorn nodded and gave a snort.
“Ander needs you, but he is too weak to come here. If I let you out, can you find him?”
Another nod and a hefty snort.
With trembling fingers, she freed him, her mind numb with the possibility of becoming a hood ornament on that horn. She had to open one section, then step inside the enclosure to move the bramble wall that had been installed. The instant it was open, Abax was on the move.
About fifty feet into the woods he stopped. He turned to her.
She moved slowly toward him and noticed him scenting the air. He smelled Ander, and probably his blood. That wasn’t good, but she was ready to face it if it was her destiny to be a shishkabab.
Five feet from her, Abax stopped and knelt. He gestured with his head for her to climb on his back.
She did. Despite what romance novels would have you think, horsehide chafes like hell when the horse is dodging and weaving through the woods. Unicorn hide however, is like the smoothest of velvets under naked skin. She was certain she would be bowlegged for life, but otherwise unharmed from her travels. Just as she had relaxed into the rhythm of the ride, Abax stopped.
Ander was just ahead, slumped over the lower branch of the tree.
She wouldn’t be able to hoist him onto the back of his steed. She slid to the ground in a hurry, trying to make it to her elf as fast as she could. He was unconscious. She examined the wound on his back. It was still raw, but the bleeding had stopped and it was clotting over. “Abax. How are we going to get him out of here?” She felt a tear run down her face. It was frustration and despair.
An engine revved behind her and suddenly, hope kicked in. Where the unicorn had stood was now a car. It wasn’t practical for the off-roading they needed to do, but it was better than letting Ander die.
This she could manage. Only barely. Her mind flashed back to manoeuvring him in the pool and how she had never thought to have to manage him on land. How naïve.
“Ander! Ander. Wake up and walk to your car!” She slapped him on the face. Then harder.
Finally he opened bleary eyes and looked past her to Abax.
She pulled, pushed and prodded him toward the car and, when the passenger door swung open, that is where she put him. The seat belt locked him in automatically and she sighed in relief. She stepped away from the car and was more than a little surprised to see the driver’s door swing open for her.
She slid her naked tush onto the driver’s seat and kept herself still as the belt crossed her and tightened to hold her fast. In seconds they were in motion and Abax proved that no 4x4 had anything on him. They left the park and mountain in their rearview mirror as he reached speeds she didn’t know could be engaged in on a public road.
Her terror of being pulled over while stark naked let her give Abax his head. She wasn’t going to fight for control of a vehicle when she herself was in such a vulnerable state. “I wonder where he is taking us?”
“Silverwood.” Ander was awake. Deep circles under his eyes belied the strength of his tone. He still wasn’t out of the proverbial woods. “He is taking us to the Silverwood Society.”
“Like the camp?”
“Yes. Like the camp. Only dedicated to the support of new magic in the modern world.” He slumped back in his seat. “Abax will have us there in a few hours.”
Chapter 9
Introducing yourself to new people was always awkward. More so when you had a naked elf in a car with you and your car decided to park itself in front of a group of strangers. She tried to open the door to ask for help, but Abax refused.
He revved his engine twice and a woman who was oddly familiar came to the driver’s side window.
“Ander? What are you doing?”
Apparently Abax’s form was well known around here. The car rolled the window down halfway.
“Hello. My name is Fiona. Ander has been stabbed, could we get some help?”
The engine revved.
“And some clothing?”
The woman moved away and spoke in rapid succession to a series of bystanders. A coat was immediately offered that the woman quickly passed through the window for Fiona. The second she was covered the doors sprang open. Three men assisted Ander out the door with no care for his modesty. Apparently Abax was concerned on her behalf alone.
“You may not remember me. I am Artemis Whynot of the Silverwood Society.” The features of the woman suddenly took on a most familiar form.
“Hiya, Arty. Where are they taking him?” She watched Abax change back into the dark unicorn.
“To the infirmary. Would you care to accompany him?”
“No. I would like a shower and some additional clothing, if you could find some. And perhaps some shoes?”
Artemis’s gaze fell to Fiona’s feet and she blanched. “As soon as you get out of the infirmary.” She turned to one of the gathered men. “Kian, please carry the Lady Fiona to the infirmary. She has damaged her legs.”
The man took two steps toward her and was blocked by Abax’s marble horn.
Abax knelt for Fiona to mount him, so she did, only then noticing the blood spotting her legs and marking the pavement where she had stood. She suddenly felt lightheaded.
“Uh, all right. Abax, please take her to the infirmary. They will be able to assist her. Thank you.” Artemis was bemused. Her face shifted between surprised and amused over and over.
It made Fiona dizzy.
Abax regained his feet and paced toward the building where Ander had so recently been transported to. Fiona was expecting to dismount at the front door, but that was not the plan the unicorn had in mind. He paced through the electronic sensors and the doors opened for him.
The staff at the infirmary were remarkably unfazed by the unicorn and rider pacing through their halls. When the admi
tting clerk asked her the infamous, “Can I help you?”
She shrugged at him. “I think he is looking for Ander.”
“Ah, Reman? Please bring them to Ander’s room.” The attendant nodded with a slight grin. “Ander is having his wound cleaned and stitched. He will be uncomfortable, but awake.”
“Thank you.”
“You are welcome. Welcome to Silverwood.” The clerk nodded politely and went back to his work.
“This way, please.”
Reman led them through a maze of corridors and some of the things Fiona saw through the open doors amazed her. The inhabitants of this town were not all human, or elves. No wonder the doors fit the unicorn.
“Here he is. There are three beds in this room. Someone will be here to tend to your legs shortly.” He nodded and carefully backed away.
Her steed pushed his way into the room where his regular rider was being attended to. The steady clip clop of his hooves reverberated in the room as he walked up to one of the unoccupied beds nearest to Ander and stood still as attendants held the bed for her to dismount. She settled in the bed and Abax moved off to one side, standing sentry.
Ander had a flock of attendants of his own, stitches were being carefully applied to the torn and cleaned flesh of his back. He had his head turned toward her, “Fiona, were you injured?”
“Not by Baenwik. It happened later.”
“They will take care of you here. Did Abax bring you in?”
“Yes.”
“Ah. You found him then. Good. He doesn’t usually take to strangers. Just ease up to him and he will be fine.”
“I will do that. Get some rest.”
“Okay. You are at Silverwood. You are safe now.” He closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep as they finished bandaging him up.
The assistants turned to her as one, and she finally came to the stunning conclusion that, with the exception of Artemis, everyone she had seen here was male.
“You are Fiona Matthews?”
