Desperate Magic

by Rebecca York

  “Yes,” he answered.

  “I am her sister, and I must speak to her.”

  “Wait here.”

  The guard withdrew into the courtyard. When he returned, he was accompanied by a troop of armed men who drew their swords as they surrounded her.

  “You are truly the queen’s sister?” one of them asked.

  She fought to keep her voice steady. “Yes.”

  “Then you are under arrest by order of the king’s council.”

  Chapter Seven

  When two of the men grabbed Willow’s arms, she gasped.

  “No, wait. What are you doing?”

  “Another witch has arrived to aid the queen in her dark quest.”

  “What?” she choked out.

  Before the men could drag her away, another figure emerged from the castle. It was Grantland, accompanied by a second group of armed men.

  “Hold,” he ordered.

  Some of the first set of men remained defiant. Others looked sheepish.

  When Grantland and his force advanced, the others fell back.

  “Come inside,” he said to Willow.

  There was muttering among the soldiers she had first encountered, but Willow was allowed to follow Grantland into the castle. Instead of leading her to one of the common rooms on the ground floor, he and his guards escorted her directly upstairs, past more guards to a room that was closed off by a stout door. Grantland opened it, and Willow stepped inside, crying out in relief as she saw Rowan standing opposite her, dressed in the satin-and-lace gown of a queen.

  The two sisters rushed into each other’s arms, hugging tightly.

  “Willow, I thought you wouldn’t come. How did you get out of Valleyhold?”

  “A dragon helped me.”

  “What?” Grantland demanded, his voice harsh. “What dragon?”

  “His name is Cullendor. I thought he was my...friend,” Willow said. “But I fear he has used me to get to you.”

  From his post by the door, Grantland swore. “You have brought us another problem. After we escaped from Valleyhold, a dragon attacked us.”

  Willow’s breath caught. “How did you defeat him?”

  “As it happens, my sister long ago went to live with a dragon, Galladar. He drove off the marauder.”

  “Your sister consorts with a dragon?” Willow asked. “How?”

  “They met when the kingdom was under siege. She had read a legend about a dragon accepting a virgin sacrifice to defend Arandal and went in search of him.”

  “What happened?”

  “Not what she expected. He saved the kingdom, and they stayed together. Happily.”

  The information made Willow dizzy. A woman staying with a dragon. Cullendor had spoken of it. What if it were possible for the two of them? She cut off that thought. He was likely the dragon who had attacked Grantland and Rowan, and he had tricked her for his own purposes.

  “The dragon may come here, but we have a more pressing problem,” Grantland said. “My lady wife is in danger.”

  Willow swung to him. “Yes, you will tell me what is going on here. My sister sent messages to me. I knew she was in trouble, but I could never find out the problem.” Her voice turned fierce. “Are you abusing her?”

  “It’s not his fault—or perhaps it is.” Rowan began to laugh hysterically.

  The sound of that laugh set Willow’s nerves screaming. This wasn’t the sister she remembered. Had Rowan gone mad? Was that the problem?”

  Her throat tightened as she looked at Grantland’s drawn face. Something was badly wrong here.

  Fearing the worst, Willow demanded, “For the sake of the gods, tell me why Rowan called me in desperate fear.”

  Rowan looked as if she was struggling to compose herself. “I am with child.”

  Willow felt relief sweep over her. Then her face broke into broad grin. “But that’s wonderful!”

  “It would be,” Rowan said in a low voice. “But the pregnancy has changed the humors of my body.” She gulped. “When Grantland brought me here, we were confident that I could hide my powers from his people so they would not think me a witch. I could do that until the baby began to grow inside me. The child has taken away my control of my abilities. Sometimes I can’t use them at all. Then bad things happen around me. A glass globe exploded in the audience chamber. A gold plate began to melt in the dining hall. The milk cows dried up. Well, that last part probably isn’t my fault.”

  Willow sucked in a sharp breath. “And you can’t stop the other things from happening?”

  “I’ve tried. The pregnancy has done me ill, and the people mutter about me. Many of them are waiting for their chance to denounce me as a witch. That’s why Grantland asked me to stay up here, where I will be away from his subjects.”

  “Our subjects,” he corrected. “They are our subjects.”

  “And they fear me.”

  “Some of the guards are getting ready to arrest her,” Grantland added, and Willow heard the fear in his voice.

  “What can I do to help?” she asked.

  “There is only one way to save her,” Grantland answered. “You must take her away somewhere safe until after the babe is born. We have an estate that we use sometimes in the summer. You could go there.”

  “Not alone,” Willow said, thinking about the dangers she had encountered on the journey.

  “I would send you with a dozen loyal men.”

  And would they stay loyal, Willow wondered, when they were away from the king’s watchful eye? And what of Cullendor? Would Rowan and Willow return to find he had deposed Grantland?

  * * *

  Cullendor woke feeling like little men were in his head, pounding the inside of his skull with hammers. Sitting up in bed, he looked around the room he and Willow had engaged at the inn.

  He tried to remember what had happened the night before. Willow had taken a bath then came down to the common room, where she had eaten dinner and pushed him to drink that thing called mead. He had liked the way it made him feel, until... Until what?

  His memories of the evening abruptly stopped. His gaze probed the bedroom. How had he gotten here? And where was Willow? Had something happened to her? Or did this have something to do with her learning his secret? He had thought they had come to an accommodation on that count, but perhaps that was only what he wanted to think.

  His unease grew as he climbed out of bed, splashed water on his face and ran his fingers through his hair. After a quick glance in the mirror to make sure he looked presentable, he started to charge out of the room, then stopped, wondering what he was going to say, exactly, if he didn’t see Willow. She had been helping him understand the ways of humankind, but his knowledge was still sketchy. How should he refer to her when speaking to others? Was it proper for an unmarried man and woman to sleep in the same room? Perhaps only if she was a woman of low morals, and he didn’t want anyone thinking ill of her.

  He tempered his steps as he walked downstairs. His stomach clenched when he didn’t see Willow in the common room. Trying not to panic, he went in search of the innkeeper.

  “May I help you?” the man asked.

  “I was wondering if you had seen my wife,” he said, hoping the lie didn’t show on his face.

  “She must have been pissed off when you passed out drunk.”

  “Drunk,” he repeated. So that was what being drunk was like. And she had done it on purpose.

  “She told us you would likely sleep all day and said not to disturb you. Then she hired a horse and cleared out.”

  Cullendor’s hand went to his waist. His leather bag of coins was missing. If Willow had hired a horse, she must have taken his money.

  “She was in a right state when she left,” the innkeeper added.


  “Yes,” Cullendor muttered and strode out of the establishment. Willow had made him think they had settled their differences—so that she could escape from him. To go to Arandal? That was his first assumption.

  He walked rapidly back the way they’d come, into the forest, where he quickly found a herd of deer and drank his fill from several, giving himself extra nourishment. Then he changed into a dragon and took off, heading for the Arandal Castle.

  He landed out of sight in a grove of trees, then used his power of invisibility to walk across the drawbridge and into the castle courtyard. Though it was fully dark, knots of people were gathered, talking.

  The hair on the back of his neck bristled as he listened to what they were saying.

  “The queen is a witch for sure. I heard she summoned a powerful wind inside the dining hall and made all the candles in the great hall go out.”

  “And she shattered all the goblets in the castle.”

  “The guards should have taken her out of the castle and burned her at the stake.”

  “The king brought a witch into our midst.”

  “He is not fit to rule.”

  “She besotted him with her evil magic.”

  “And now her sister has arrived. I shudder to think what the two of them are cooking up.”

  “Burn both of them, I say.”

  Cullendor shuddered. He had come here angry with Willow for tricking him. Now that he knew she was in danger, his feelings turned themselves upside down.

  He had found Willow trapped in Valleyhold and thought to use her for his own purposes. And then they had made love, and his feelings for her had changed in ways he hadn’t understood at first.

  Now he knew that he didn’t want to rule a kingdom.

  He wanted to get Willow out of the death trap of Arandal Castle and take her away where they could work out their relationship in peace.

  Still invisible, he walked into the castle, listening to the guards muttering. No walls could stop him. Using his powers, he searched the great building and finally found Willow in a sleeping chamber on the upper level.

  If she had ridden from the inn, then spoken at length with her sister, she must have been awake for hours. Now she lay in bed, sleeping soundly.

  He walked silently to her side, bringing his body back to visibility as he looked down at her—at her golden hair, her full lips, her dark lashes lying against her cheek. Her beauty had first captivated him, but he had learned to love her depths and intelligence even more.

  She had run from him and stirred his anger, even when he understood that he himself had been the cause of her defection. But below that anger had been fear, and the fear was the greater part now.

  As he knelt beside the bed, he reached to touch the silky strands of her hair, then bent closer to rub his lips against hers. In her sleep, he felt her respond to him.

  “Cullendor.” When she whispered his name against his mouth, his heart leaped. She might have fled him, but in sleep she still responded to him.

  His tongue played with the seam of her lips, while his hand slipped under the covers to stroke along the scooped neck of her gown, feeling thin fabric far finer than any she had worn before. She was so sweet, so tempting that he forgot why he had come to her sleeping chamber. He was about to climb into the bed with her, when her eyes opened.

  For a moment he saw recognition and warmth in them. Then she woke fully and gasped as she scooted quickly away from him, pressing her back against the stone wall.

  “What are you doing? How did you get here?”

  Her harsh whisper tore at him, but he kept his own voice matter of fact.

  “I can come to the castle when I please.”

  “You played me for a fool.”

  The accusation made his breath still. “I know, and I am sorry for that.”

  “Get out of here,” she ordered, “before I call the guards.”

  “You wouldn’t.”

  They glared at each other, and he struggled to sound calm and rational.

  “I have come to save you. You must leave with me. The people think Rowan is a witch—and that you are too.”

  “She needs me, and I must stay with her. Grantland believes he can get us out of the castle with a force of men.”

  He gave her a sharp look. “And then what? You think she can come back?”

  “She is with child. The pregnancy has unbalanced her humors—which has...”

  She stopped.

  “Played hell with her powers,” he finished.

  “You mentioned the powers of my people before. How much do you know of them?”

  “I know your people have vast talents. I know you use your collective mental energy to hold that shield around your valley. I know you used your powers to untie the ropes that bound you when that scruffy gang had you. And I know your sister called you.”

  “Yes.”

  “But your sister could not reach you from so far away. I used my own power to help her get messages to you.”

  She stared at him with narrowed eyes. “You helped us bridge the distance?”

  “Yes.”

  “But you also interfered with our communication.”

  He swallowed. “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “I wanted nothing to stop you from coming here. I wanted...” He raised one shoulder. “...I wanted to conquer the kingdom.”

  He saw the steel in her eyes. “You admit that?”

  He clenched his fists. “I admit everything bad that I did. But after we had...gotten closer to each other, I realized my goal was unworthy. Now I only want to be with you.” He went on quickly. “You need to know the rest. When Grantland and Rowan escaped from Valleyhold, I tried to kill him.”

  She caught her breath “Why are you telling me that?”

  “Because I want to be completely honest with you.” He swallowed hard. “Another dragon saved them. A dragon with a woman riding on his back. Well, she didn’t ride into battle with him, but she was there when the battle was over. Seeing them together was how I thought of traveling with you. Please, do not turn me away. Let me save you from the people of Arandal.”

  “I can’t leave my sister.”

  “And if you leave the castle with her, you will likely be killed.”

  When she sucked in a sharp breath, he said, “I think there is a way to save you both, if we work together.”

  “How?”

  When he told her his plan, distress filled her face. “You could be killed.”

  “I would give my life for yours.”

  “You would do that?”

  “My existence was bleak before we met. I had made plans of conquest because I know that no male dragon has a happy life. I thought that ruling a kingdom was a way to change my fate. Now I see a better path.”

  “Oh, Cullen.” She reached for him and pulled him to her.

  “You call me Cullen?”

  “My love name for you,” she whispered. As she held him, she asked, “You would do this dangerous thing for me—and Rowan?”

  “It will be dangerous for you too.”

  “I pray it will come out well for both of us.” She held him for another few moments, then eased away. “We must both prepare.”

  “Yes,” he agreed, praying to her gods and his fates that his plan was a sound one. “And I must leave you now.”

  “I know,” Willow answered, struggling to keep the grief from her voice. His plan was risky, and she might never see him again.

  She pulled him down to the bed with her and clung to him for long moments, kissing him hard, wishing they could make love. But there was no time for pleasure now.

  He eased away and stood, looking down at her for heartbeats before he vanished before her eyes.

&nbs
p; She gulped. She would have to get used to that—if they both lived.

  Thrusting that last thought from her mind, she climbed out of bed. Be of good cheer, she ordered herself. Cullendor has given you new hope, and you must tell Rowan and Grantland.

  She pulled off the night rail Rowan had provided her and dressed in one of the fine gowns her sister had also lent her. Then she slipped out of her room and started for the royal chamber. But before she got halfway down the corridor, guards rushed out and grabbed her.

  “We’ve got the sister,” one of them shouted. “Get the queen.”

  She might have thrown the man off her with her talent, but then he would know she had the powers of a witch.

  Instead she let him hold her while other men strode down the hall. She heard a door bang open, then screams as men rushed into the royal chamber.

  “No,” Grantland shouted. “Unhand my lady wife.”

  “You are bewitched,” one of the men rejoined him. “And you will come to your senses when you are rid of her dangerous influence. We will try her and the sister, and we will find them guilty.”

  “You bastards. You’ve already made up your tiny minds. Do you call that justice?” Grantland bellowed.

  From the corridor, Willow couldn’t see what was happening, but it sounded like he was attacking the invaders.

  Then he groaned and went silent. Gods no.

  “Grantland,” she screamed.

  Rowan’s sobs were her only answer.

  The ringleader stepped back into the hallway, issuing orders to his fellows. Two of them dragged a wide-eyed Rowan down the hall, away from Willow. Two others shoved Willow into a small, meanly furnished room. She looked around, her heart pounding with fear. Struggling for composure, she called out to her sister.

  “Rowan, are you there?”

  Heartbeats passed and she heard nothing. But finally she caught the edge of her sister’s sob.

  “Have courage. We will make this come right.”

  “How?”

  “First you must tell me—what happened to the king?”

  “He was knocked to the floor, but I do not think they killed him.”