Touched By Magic (The King's Wolf Saga)

by Doranna Durgin

  Breathe. Slowly. In, out. The clearing held four people. In, out. Rethia, absorbed in herself, showing no signs of outward awareness. In, out. Farren, his face grim, his attention divided between Rethia and the intruder. Kacey, on the ground and closest to Reandn, clearly terrified of Ronsin, awed by her sister.

  In. That was better. Out. His body's successful fight to reassert itself gave Reandn leeway to think. There was magic about, but Farren hadn't used it to drive Ronsin away—and Ronsin hadn't used it to eliminate Farren. They appeared to be thwarted, unable to call on their magic until Rethia finished...whatever it was she was doing.

  And then all Hells would break loose. Ronsin's smug expression told him as much, as did Farren's tightly worried eyes. It didn't escape Reandn that Ronsin had been practicing his art of late—while Farren had been tailoring clothes. From their expressions, both wizards were well aware of the fact.

  But Reandn didn't need to call on any magic. His was a physical world, and it was right at hand. His breathing had steadied as much as it could under the strain of magic. His ears were too full of magic to hear, but he knew well enough how to be silent without them.

  Not that it appeared to matter—neither of the wizards had looked his way, and his arrival had been far from subtle. Maybe they, too, heard nothing but the magic.

  Still prone, he worked his way closer to the clearing, reaching down to draw his boot knife. He needed only to get close enough for clear aim; he didn't care if the man never saw him. This was not an honor fight. It was execution.

  Kacey suddenly stiffened, half-turning. Reandn gave a quick shake of his head. No, Kacey, I'm not here. Don't give me away—

  She didn't. Quickly, she looked aside, fixing her gaze on Ronsin instead. Her shoulders trembled; Reandn suddenly wished he could reassure her.

  He didn't have the time. The little black mare picked grass on the other side of Farren, unconcerned with magic and wizards and the potential arrival of unicorns—but now she lifted her head with interest and nickered. Behind Reandn came the growing noise of something stumbling through the woods. Sky.

  If the horse came into sight, Ronsin would know someone else had arrived.

  Reandn gathered himself behind Kacey. Pushing her down as he rose, he cocked his arm back, his eyes centered on Ronsin's chest—

  Sky staggered between them, momentum building as his front legs gave out while his back legs still propelled him forward. His sides thumped erratically, spasming—telling tales of imminent death. Ronsin's gaze shot toward the horse—and then beyond, to Reandn.

  As the horse fell between them, Ronsin smiled. He lifted his hand, gave a preemptive gesture.

  Magic enfolded Reandn, squeezing him hard. The blade slipped down in his fingers and his hand clutched convulsively around it, a cut he could barely feel past the chaos in his body.

  Kacey, sprawled at his feet, glared at Ronsin. "Let him go!"

  Ronsin flicked his fingers in a dismissive gesture, his expression full of scorn.

  Reandn dropped the knife, gagging as the magic left him. But as he fell to his knees, he groped among the long, flattened grasses of the meadow until his blood-slicked fingers found cold hard metal, the movement hidden by the twitching bay body of his horse. He stabbed the blade into his boot top as Kacey helped him up—and they stood together, neither of them steady, one of them terrified and the other almost helpless. But not quite.

  "Don't do anything foolish, Ronsin." Farren moved between Rethia and the other wizard. "Strong magic will destroy what she's trying to do—and probably destroy her, too."

  "You think I'd interfere with this girl?" Ronsin asked, truly astonished. "You know how badly I want magic, Farren. You want it as much as I or you would have attacked me when I arrived, Tenaebra take the girl." He gave Rethia a thoughtful look; she remained oblivious to him, oblivious to all of them. Her lips moved, forming soundless words, and her eyes followed something only she could see. "I don't know what she's up to...but I can tell well enough what it means to me."

  Reandn wondered if he could goad the wizard into attacking with magic, into ruining Rethia's efforts—and wondered if Farren's words were true, that it might ruin Rethia as well. He looked at Farren, and Kacey's grip on his arm tightened. "She's doing it." Tell me she's not doing it.

  Farren nodded. "I've no idea how long it'll take—or even if this is only a temporary gate that will close when she comes back to us."

  "What if she never comes back?" Kacey said fearfully.

  "Then she'll join the others who've died from magic," Reandn said harshly. "Kavan. Adela." He moved forward a step, disengaging from Kacey.

  "They died for a cause," Ronsin said, the indifference in his voice licking against Reandn's ears, against his pain. "They were an insignificant forfeiture."

  Reandn closed his eyes against the rage. Anger loses the fight. The knife waited in his boot. He was so close he'd hardly have to aim, and after that, it wouldn't matter, not as long as Ronsin's inevitable magical riposte also destroyed the gate Rethia had opened. Ronsin, dead—the magic, gone for good. And Reandn, with Adela at last.

  But the magic buffeted him, made it impossible to clear his thoughts, made each breath a strain that never brought in enough air to satisfy his lungs. His knees wobbled, and on sudden impulse, he let them go, hitting the ground hard.

  "Reandn!" Kacey cried, crouching next to him, her arm wrapped around his shoulders. She looked up at Ronsin and snapped, "He wasn't doing anything—leave him alone!"

  "Sorry, my dear," Ronsin said. "It's not me. It's your sister's doing, I'm afraid." His voice sounded smug. "Now that is justice, Reandn, don't you think? In the end, I don't have to lift a finger to take care of you."

  Reandn's hand found the knife again, withdrew it, and reversed his hold on it. Don't crowd me, Kacey—don't get in my way. He'd have enough trouble keeping his balance, moving fast...

  And then he felt the assault of the magic actually lessen. He looked up in surprise, saw Farren's satisfaction, and knew the wizard was somehow shielding him. Now. Shrugging off Kacey's arm, he took a deep, satisfying breath, straightened, and threw—but not before Kacey got in his way, spoiling the throw.

  She backed away with her hands over her mouth as the knife struck Ronsin solidly in the arm. "I'm sorry!" she cried, as Ronsin whirled away from Rethia with an outraged cry, facing Reandn straight on. "I'm sorry!"

  Fool!" Ronsin clutched his arm, fingers wrapping around the knife, jerking it out. He threw it to the ground with contempt. "Did you really think I couldn't kill you without stopping the magic? You, who react so strongly to it? All I have to do is direct it through you."

  Reandn froze—ready to die, ready to be with Adela—but not ready to do it for nothing, to leave this task so completely unfinished. He glanced at Farren—and found confirmation in the wizard's grim expression. Ronsin laughed, a sudden, quiet and bizarrely happy sound.

  It was the last thing Reandn heard.

  The magic rushed through him, knocking him flat on his back. His eyes found Kacey's and widened in the astonishment of the power gripping him, tearing the strength from his limbs and the breath from his lungs. He tried to rise and failed, felt Kacey's hands at his shoulders and chest, her cheek by his mouth searching for his breath. His vision grayed and the agony of airless lungs dragged him into darkness.

  But not a darkness unaware, nor a darkness alone. Even as he took stock, discovering there was no pain—not from his arm, his sliced hand or the stress of trying to breathe—he opened inner eyes and found the warm brown gaze he had missed so much.

  "Dela," he whispered. When she came to him she filled the emptiness inside, warming places where he hadn't even recognized the chill.

  Danny, she whispered into his ear, raising hairs along the back of his neck. That was all, and it was enough; it said anything he could ever want to hear.

  He ran his hands down her back, following the curves he knew so well, holding her tightly against him. His senses were filled
with Dela, and it was ecstasy. "You've been with me," he said. "I've heard you right along."

  Her laugh was more a feeling in his chest than a sound in his ear. I could hardly do otherwise, love. You held on to me so tightly...and I, to Kavan.

  He raised his face from where it was buried in the hair at her neck. "Kavan? You've found him here? I can see him?"

  Not...just yet. She kissed him then, intensely and almost...desperately. Whether you know it or not, you're holding on to life just as tightly as you've held on to me. Else I would have had you earlier...by knife, by arrow... You've left things undone, I think.

  "I tried," Reandn said, hearing the anger in his own words. Suddenly they were apart, and he'd turned his back on her. "I tried to stop him, I tried to stop the magic. There's nothing more I can do."

  Your friends are fighting hard to save you. Her hand settled gently on his shoulder from behind, ran down his back. See? Both hands snaked around his waist to clasp in front of him, her head resting on his shoulder from behind.

  He started as he realized what, somehow, she was doing. She'd brought him back to the clearing, and together, they stood beside Sky's body. The magic danced without affecting him, without doing so much as stirring his hair.

  Before him lay his own sprawling body, with Kacey crying uncontrollably on his chest. Farren stood protectively over Rethia—still apparently oblivious to it all—his jaw set, his eyes tight with grief. Grief for Reandn? Reandn blinked, taken aback. He'd been a tool, he thought, something to lead Farren back to magic. Not a friend. Not someone about whom the wizard cared.

  Ronsin stood apart from them all, his face distorted in pain and anger; blood ran freely down his arm. Even injured, he looked younger than Reandn had ever seen him—vibrant and strong and soaking in the magic.

  Farren gave a sudden, startled step backward as, without warning, Rethia stood. She stepped up to Sky, and she looked Reandn right in the eye. "We need you," she said. Behind her, Farren looked alarmed and befuddled. "They won't come into Ronsin's magic."

  Adela tightened her arms around his waist. They need you.

  "I won't leave you," he repeated fiercely. Desperately.

  I was the one who left you, she said. I went into that tower, and I knew better. She moved around to face him, raising a hand to lift the hair over his forehead, pushing it tenderly to the side. I love you. I'll always love you. But this is where I am now. You're not. Do you think I want you to give up on your time there?

  "I'm not going to lea—" he said, stopping short as his eyes fell upon Ronsin. The swirling magic was growing, spreading out from Rethia to lift the wizard's long thinning hair along with hers. Rethia's bangs blew aside to reveal her ever-startling eyes, and they were expectant—eager. Farren tensed, subtly gathering a wall of power that showed only in the wild rippling around his head. His fingers moved, limbering, remembering.

  Life waits for you, Adela said, moving close to him, her fingers spread across his chest. Take it. Breathe it in.

  Only Kacey seemed oblivious to the spreading changes in the clearing; her shoulders still shook with sobs. She smeared a hand across her eyes, resting it on Reandn's unmoving chest. And then she looked up at the wizard, and her puffy eyes narrowed. Unnoticed, undistracted by the magic that had the rest of them entranced, she searched the ground—and when she stood, her face red and distorted, she had a handful of rocks.

  "Let him go!" she shrieked at Ronsin, unleashing a rock in his direction. It pinged off the wizard's shoulder, startling away his control over the magic that was killing—had killed?—Reandn, and Kacey quickly followed the rock with another. "Let him go!"

  "Dela, no!" Reandn said, appalled to see this strange, timeless place waver around him. "Not without you!"

  "Let him go!" The phrase became Kacey's mindless, bared-teeth litany, backed with rocks and shaking loose Ronsin's control, shaking loose Reandn's hold on Adela.

  I'll still be here, Danny, Adela said. Don't give things up for me. Live. Be the man I fell in love with. She kissed him, and he closed his eyes and thought of nothing but the way her lips felt against his, moving with infinite tenderness. Nothing but the way her body pressed against him, warm and intimate, as familiar as his own. Nothing but the way her scent filled his nose, the feel of her hair tangling in his fingers. Nothing....

  No! He took a great whooping breath and air rushed into starved lungs. Magic still beat around him but no longer through him; his hair stirred in it as he rolled to his stomach and lifted his head. "No!" he cried out loud, astonishing Kacey, startling everyone but Rethia. He pushed himself off the ground and rushed forward, clawing his belt knife free. When he crashed into Ronsin it was only momentum that drove the long blade into the man's chest. They fell together, a brief tangle of arms and legs—until Reandn rolled away, battling to reorient himself, sobbing with pain and weakness and effort.

  Sudden hoofbeats shook the ground.

  He forced himself to his knees, swaying, afraid to try for his feet. Tears and sweat tracked down his face but his eyes were alert and focused as Kacey rushed past the dying wizard to wrap her arms around Reandn, fierce in relief. The shape of her body felt alien after Adela's familiarity.

  Hoofbeats. Rethia's face was lit with joy, and she cried, "Look, Kacey!"

  They came from nowhere, misting into shape, thundering around the clearing. They were flashing bays and too-bright-to-bear chestnuts, stark black and riddled with spots, their horns blue-black and pearl and flaming orange; despite their numbers they galloped nimbly around the clearing without stepping on the fallen. Farren and Rethia stood in the midst of them without apparent fear, and the stream of galloping bodies split around them, horns bobbing low to honor Rethia.

  Kacey hid her head against Reandn's shoulder as the unicorns brushed close and charged away, not quite touching the huddled pair; they dashed around the clearing, turning it into a dance comprehensible only to themselves. Finally the dust of their run gritted Reandn's eyes closed, and he dropped his head, resting it against Kacey's—until finally the beasts were satisfied with their celebration and charged out into the world with their magic.

  In the quiet, Rethia spoke, and her voice was breathless. "I know. It's all right."

  Reandn looked up, blinking, to see what she meant. Before her stood the walnut-brown unicorn she'd described to him. It stretched its neck, dark muzzle briefly touching her hair, taking in her scent. After a moment it snorted and stepped back, executed a neat turn on its haunches, and walked away from the clearing.

  "Reandn," Kacey breathed, her voice hoarse. She tugged gently at his shoulders, turning him. Behind them, Sky grunted; his legs flailed. He came up to rest on his chest like a dog, his ears twirling around and his expression dumbfounded. Reandn stared, but before he could truly comprehend, Ronsin groaned. Alive! Reandn pushed Kacey away, scrabbling in search of his lost boot knife.

  The wizard no longer bled. Reandn's belt knife lay in the grass at Ronsin's side, unsullied. The arm wound, previously a gaping cut below the man's tunic sleeve, was hardly more than a pink mark.

  "Reandn, no!" Rethia said, as Reandn's hand found and closed around the knife. Holding Farren's hand, she moved between Reandn and Ronsin. "This is how they want it, Dan," she said. Something in her eyes was less remote than it had been. "Don't worry. It's safe."

  "How can it be safe as long as there's magic for him to play with?" Reandn spat, discovering his voice was as hoarse as Kacey's.

  "No magic," Ronsin said, sitting, as befuddled as any of them. His hand went to his chest, ran across the rent in his brocaded tunic. "It's gone. How can that be? I felt it—it was here."

  "It is here," Rethia agreed. "The unicorns are back, and there's magic in the world again. Is it not so, Farren?"

  In response, Farren surrounded her head with a rainbow of butterflies; they fluttered and clung to her hair. She laughed, and he admitted, "Showy, but they make their point."

  "No," Ronsin said, horror on his face. "I can't find it. I
can't feel it."

  Rethia looked down on him, then reached over to give her sister a hand up. Kacey took it and held it even after she stood, staying close. When Reandn rose, he stood apart, warily eyeing the old man who had made himself an expert at feigning loss of magic, his every drained muscle gathered for attack.

  "You'll never have magic," Rethia said, when the old wizard's gaze, pleading and almost panicked, settled on her. "They decided Reandn's way was too easy on you, so they brought you back and built a wall around you."

  "Your unicorns have a well-developed sense of justice," Farren said dryly. "I hope they won't mind if we take him along and give him to the Wolves."

  Reandn ignored him, watching Ronsin instead—telling himself this was enough. Though the magic had cleared considerably since the unicorns' departure, no longer rippling through the air, it yet sung in Reandn's ears, an almost subliminal reminder.

  Rethia looked at him. With Farren at one side and Kacey at the other, she looked to where he chose to stand alone and said, "She was beautiful, Reandn. I'm so sorry."

  He tried to respond to her, but couldn't find any words. The ending he had fought for was no ending at all, but the beginning of a thousand new fights against a thousand budding Ronsins—while the original lived on, and Adela and Kavan were still gone.

  He turned to Sky. The horse greeted him with a confused and anxious nicker, and Reandn mounted and rode out of the meadow.

  ~~~~~

  The silence, Kacey thought, was deafening. Above the trampled ground cover, dust floated in the sunlight, shafting through the woods on the new paths created by the charging unicorns. She closed her eyes on the scene before her, but could still see it clearly. Farren stood breathing in the magic, his color high and his eyes bright, infused with magic for the first time in seventeen years. Ronsin still sat on the ground, a dark complement to Farren's quiet euphoria—his clothes bloody, his flesh healed, but his soul defeated. And Rethia. Kacey knew she'd always remember Rethia in this moment, tears tracking through the dust on her face but her striking eyes focused and sharp, knowing exactly who she was and what she'd done.