by Candace Sams
"It came from Blain's room. We'd better check on him," Hugh advised as he moved down the hallway.
"Blain, lad, are you all right?" Hugh called after sharply rapping on Blain's bedroom door. When there was no answer, he opened the door. Blain was lying unconscious on the carpet. He was bare from the waist up and a fine sheen of sweat covered his torso.
"Hurry," Shayla urged as she rushed into the room. "We need to get him back into bed."
It took all three of them to move Blain's six-feet-three inch frame onto the bed. Afton left the room, but quickly returned with a bowl of cool water, a clean cloth and some herbs. She watched as Hugh sat on the bed and tried to wake Blain. "Do you think he can hear us?" She asked as she handed him the cloth.
"No, lass, I'm sure he can't." He began to clumsily dab at Blain's forehead. "While I've been living here, nothing like this has ever happened, and I don't mind telling you it scares the bloody hell out of me. Why is he so ill?"
Afton could see the distress in the older man's face and the clumsiness of his movements. She moved forward to take the cloth from Hugh. "Here, let me do that."
Shayla looked around the room. She studied the rows of books on a nearby shelf, walked to the fireplace then slowly turned and said, "We need to check this room thoroughly."
"What are we looking for?" Hugh asked.
"I don't exactly know, but we need to search everything. Look for an amulet, something small." Shayla began to run her hands over the items on Blain's dressing table.
As the two Druid elders searched the expansive room, Afton did her best to lower Blain's temperature. From her pocket, she added a small sprinkle of herbs to the cool water and dipped the cloth into it.
Blain sighed in apparent relief when she gently touched the cloth to his face and bare chest. It was the first time in her life that she'd ever been so close to a half-clothed man, other than her own father and brothers. She tried not to stare at his muscular shoulders and chest, but she couldn't help it. He was the most beautiful man she'd ever seen. The muscles of his flat abdomen and sculpted arms were equally well developed. Anyone unfamiliar with the Order would look at him and attribute his wonderful physique to hard manual labor, but Afton recognized him as one of the fairy race's finest warriors. Afton guessed he could easily wield one of the heavy, ancient weapons fairies or Druids sometimes carried. Her gaze traveled down his abdomen to the top of the grey sweat pants he apparently wore as pajama bottoms. She inappropriately wondered if the rest of him was as well endowed.
"Look!" Shayla cried out as she held up her hand.
"What is it?" Hugh asked as he walked toward her.
Shayla held up her palm and showed Hugh the long lock of hair with a thin black thread tied around it. "This is Blain's hair. Someone has tried to hex him with it. This is a binding amulet. With it, someone practicing black powers can bewitch their victim."
"Will it kill him?" Afton asked as her gaze rested on Blain's handsome face.
"No, this isn't powerful enough for that. It wasn't meant to be. Someone only wanted to weaken him." Shayla paused.
"Whoever did this may be after something he has, or this may be an effort to seek revenge. They could only have gained access to his room by using some kind of magic. And they would have to be very powerful or we would have sensed this sooner."
"Can you undo the spell?" Hugh asked, his gaze still resting on the amulet.
"Of course I can. Just leave this to me." Shayla carefully unwound the thread from the strand of hair. Though still unconscious, Blain sighed as if he found relief the instant the thread was loose. She tossed the thread aside, walked to the bed and handed the long curl to Afton. When Afton placed it next to Blain's head, there was no mistaking it was his. It was the same light brown color.
"Someone had to have been very close to him to get a lock of his hair," Afton observed.
"Aye, that's true," Hugh said. "But the only one with that kind of personal contact is Rhiannon Stone."
Shayla turned to Hugh. "What do you mean?"
"I told you he's having an affair with the woman. He might even be in love with her," Hugh responded.
"Have you been close enough to this woman to sense anything evil?" Shayla walked to an open window and stared into the woods.
"I've met her and haven't perceived anything wrong in a spiritual sense. I just never particularly cared for her, but she truly seems to care for Blain."
"He left the house tonight, didn't he?" Shayla asked, looking at Hugh as she turned from the window.
"Aye, he did. He went out very late to check on a new calf in the upper pasture. If there are more evil amulets that far from the house, anyone could be placing them about."
"Well, this will stop once and for all." Shayla nodded in determination. "His life energy is being drained by some source. Unless we isolate that source, this kind of thing will happen again."
"If I can make a suggestion?" Afton stood up and looked at Shayla and Hugh. "Perhaps we're going about this the wrong way. If we try to isolate the source of the problem, it might take too long to find out who's behind this and what they may know of Blain's connection to the Order. My instincts say that Blain doesn't have that kind of time."
"You have a plan?" Shayla crossed her arms and waited.
"Maybe we can find a reason to get the source of Blain's problem to come straight to us. We could find an excuse to bring everyone he knows to one place. Something like ... like a party. We could invite people he knows to come here. With everyone present, we could use our combined powers and find out who might be behind this. It might not work, but at least we could try."
Hugh stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Yes, we could do that. But what if everyone won't come?"
Shayla smiled. "We'll make it an affair people won't want to miss. If someone chooses not to accept the invitation, and we find nothing suspicious about those present, that will narrow the field of suspects considerably. Even though this person or persons is very powerful, I doubt they can keep hiding their identity from all of us for long. And with us keeping watch, Blain will be safe enough, no matter what happens."
"Aye, I think this will work. People in a town this size don't care what the reason is. They're always looking for an excuse to party." Hugh rubbed his hands together in a conspiratorial fashion.
"Well, since it doesn't look like we're going to get much sleep tonight, let's search the rest of the house for more amulets," Shayla suggested as she looked at Hugh. "Afton, you stay with Blain. Hugh and I will be making plans. And good thinking, girl. Perhaps I'll make a warrior-class Druid of you yet."
Afton beamed at Shayla's compliment as they exited the room. She sat on the bed next to Blain. His color had returned to normal, and his forehead was much cooler to her touch. Chewing on her lower lip, she looked toward the door to make sure Hugh and Shayla had truly gone. Then she gently placed her hand on his chest. It was rock solid, warm and smooth. His heart beat steady and strong beneath her palm. She placed his loose lock of hair in the pocket of her robe. It was only to keep someone from misusing it again, she assured herself.
He moaned softly and turned his head toward her. She knew he'd sleep the rest of the night. That was fine by her. She could look at him all she wanted without anyone being the wiser. She kept him cool by applying more of the herbal water and occasionally straightened the sheets. Some time later, he moaned softly and finally opened his eyes.
"What the hell hit me?" He tried to sit up despite the pounding in his head and weakness in his body.
"Lie still, Blain." Afton gently pushed him back down. "You've been ill and shouldn't try to sit up yet."
"I've never been sick. At least...not this sick," he croaked as he realized Afton's small hands were able to force him down.
"Well, you were quite ill last night, and I've been given orders to keep you in bed."
"Orders? Whose orders?" Blain looked up at her, his vision clearing.
"Shayla. She says you're to stay in bed, so st
ay you will."
Blain looked at the young woman sitting on the bedside. Her blue eyes were determined, and he knew she'd do everything possible to follow the older woman's command. From what he'd seen, Afton practically hung on every word Shayla said. But he had work to do. "Look, I'm grateful to you for watching over me, but I have to get up. The animals won't feed themselves, and there's other work to be done."
"Hugh, Shayla and I will see to the chores. But if you leave this bed, I won't be responsible for what Shayla does to put you back here."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Blain wanted to laugh at the silly threat, but his head was pounding so hard that humor escaped him. How could Shayla, Hugh and a slip of a girl keep him from doing as he wished?
"I know what you're thinking, Blain McTavish. But trust me when I tell you that if Shayla Gallagher wants to keep you in bed for the next month, she can do it. So rest."
As he contemplated what she'd said, Afton raised the cloth to his forehead and chest again. Hugh's friends were certainly presumptuous in his home. Relaxing another half hour or so wouldn't matter. The herbal water Afton was using had a soothing effect. The scent reminded him of deep forests and plants which grew there. When he closed his eyes, he could almost see the picture the fragrance conjured. It was cool and inviting.
"There now. Let the herbs do their work. That's much better, isn't it?" Afton crooned.
Blain smiled. There were worse things a man could be subjected to than the tender caresses of a lovely, soft-voiced English girl. He opened his eyes, turned his head sideways and gazed at her face. Her eyes were now the deep blue color of forest violets. He decided to rest just a few more minutes.
Somehow, the minutes slipped away, and he fell into a placid sleep. Later, he thought the herbs must have been responsible for the strange dreams of mythical creatures cavorting in his woodland fantasy world.
Four
Afton turned her head as Shayla quietly opened the door and crept into the room.
"How is he?" Shayla whispered, tiptoeing to where Afton sat.
"When he awakens, the pain will be gone, but he'll still be weak. I don't think he should work for a couple of days," Afton responded as she carefully pushed a thick lock of hair off Blain's forehead.
"Hugh and I discovered more amulets hidden within the house and barn," Shayla said. "Separately, they're so weak we couldn't sense them, but then they weren't meant for us. Some have been put in places where only Blain works. Some of his personal belongings, such as a button from his shirt, a work glove, and a comb, have been used to make the hexes. They're slowly sapping his life essence. Especially since there were so many and he was exposed to them for so long."
"If the person doing this is so powerful that they can get into and out of this house without being seen or having us sense them, why would they have to hide the hexes so close to Blain? Seems like they could use black magic from a distance," Afton said, tucking a strand of Blain's hair behind his ear.
"The spells used were intentionally weak so as not to alert him to the seriousness of the situation. Obviously, weaker spells work best in closer contact to their victim. He thinks he's merely been working too hard or the malady exists in his head. This draining is being done slowly, methodically. It's as though someone is testing his endurance. Whatever the reason, you're right about the power of these evil beings. They may be able to materialize where they wish if the conditions are right, and that's the worst use of black magic."
"Do you think whoever is doing this means to eventually cause him serious harm?" Afton asked. "And you suspect someone and have some ideas about the motives for all this, don't you?"
"Yes, girl, to all your questions. But all I'll say for now is that someone means to kill Blain. Of that, I'm certain. This farm and the woods surrounding it are being visited almost nightly by some evil. Why this person hasn't just got on with it is a mystery."
"Shayla, if even I can feel he has inherited powers, someone more potent will discover them soon. Surely they already suspect he's a blend of two powerful races, or this hexing wouldn't be taking place. He's going to have to be told who he is."
"That's quite true, my girl. I was planning on having a ritual bonfire on the Summer Solstice. He'll be told then, though I don't pretend to know how he's going to react."
"He'll think we're crazy." Afton looked down at the sleeping man.
"I'll make him believe. What he does after that is what concerns me most. He must come back to the Order and learn the ways of both his parents."
"I'll help him in whatever way I can, Shayla. You can depend upon it."
"I know you will." Shayla placed a hand on Afton's cheek. "You're coming to care for Blain a great deal, aren't you?"
"Well...uh...no more than you and Hugh. We're all interested in restoring his heritage to him and finding out if he has powers he can use for the benefit of others."
"Aye," Shayla responded with a nod. "Come with me. We have a great deal of work to be done. Keeping evil at bay will be more difficult since we're on ground which isn't sacred to us. Let Blain rest alone. When he awakens, he'll find his world greatly changed."
"As you command," Afton reluctantly agreed as she turned
and glanced once more at her patient.
***
When Blain awoke, he felt much better, but he was tired to the bone. He knew whatever was happening to him physically wasn't going to stop, and it frightened him more than ever before. As ill as he'd been, nothing in his life had ever caused him to pass out. He looked around the bedroom. It was afternoon. He could tell by the setting sun. But his clock had been moved from the night stand, so he had no way of knowing the exact time.
He carefully sat up, swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood. So far, so good. The only thing he felt besides the debilitating weariness was extreme hunger. Surely that was a good sign. Sick people didn't want to eat much, did they? He moved to the closet, pulled on some jeans and one of his work shirts. His boots took a bit more time as he had to fuss with the laces and rest a bit. Why was he so damned tired? And where was everyone? He was certain Afton had been in the room with him earlier. He couldn't have imagined her soft voice or her hands on his body.
"Ah, you're awake." Hugh smiled as he poked his head around the door.
"How long was I out?" Blain looked at his uncle and tried to stand. When he wobbled, the older man rushed to help him.
"You've been resting for almost three days now. Afton came in earlier and gave you a bit of broth, but I don't suppose you'd remember. You've been quite exhausted, lad."
"I've been out of it for three days? That's not possible!"
"Possible or not, that's how long it's been."
Blain shook his head, let out a long sigh and clenched his hands. "Help me downstairs, will you?"
"Are you sure that's a good idea? You're still unsteady on your feet."
"I think I might feel better once I get some food in me. I'm so hungry I could eat everything in the house."
"Good. That's a healthy sign. I'll help you, but you must take the trip downstairs verra' slow. If you pass out again, none of us is big enough to get you back upstairs, even if we combine our efforts."
"I'm surprised you didn't call an ambulance. Maybe you should have. Nothing like this has ever happened to me before."
"If you don't feel better after the wonderful meal Afton is preparing, then I promise we'll get you to a doctor, lad."
Blain used his uncle's strong shoulder for support, and they made their way downstairs. As soon as he was halfway to the first floor, his nose twitched at a tempting smell emanating from the kitchen. The aroma already had him feeling better. It seemed to energize him.
As they came down the last few steps, Shayla rose from a living room chair, positioned herself on Blain's other side, and helped support him as they walked into the kitchen.
"You're a winning lad, Blain McTavish. Make no mistake about it." Shayla patted Blain's shoulder as he lowered himself
into a kitchen chair.
"I hope that was a compliment," Blain said, as he accepted a glass of ice water from Hugh.
"It was." Shayla smiled at him and pushed back his unruly hair.
"Thanks." Blain paused to drain the entire glass of water. "I'm sorry to have been so much trouble to everyone. Man, I'm hungry!"
"You've been no trouble at all, lad," Hugh said. "We're all glad to see you up and about again. And speaking of being hungry, where's Afton? I'm a wee bit empty myself."
"She's gathering herbs to mix with the soup. You like vegetable soup, don't you Blain?" Shayla turned to Blain, handing him some more water.
Blain wondered why they were making so much fuss over the food when somebody could just feed him "I feel as though I'm starving, and soup is one of my favorite things to eat when I'm really hungry," he responded.
The back door opened and everyone turned as Afton walked in. She was carrying a small basket in one hand and a pair of herb scissors in the other. She stopped to place them on the kitchen counter before walking to where Blain sat.
"I'm glad you're up. How do you feel?" She looked down at him, restraining the urge to hug him hard.
"Better. Thank you for sitting with me. I don't know how long you stayed, but I know you were there quite a while." All the attention made him feel both guilty over their concern and wonderful that they cared.
"You're not quite steady yet, but you will be after a bowl or two of my soup I don't like to brag, but you've never tasted anything like it. It'll have you back on your feet in no time.
You must eat every drop."
She smiled at Blain again, and he thought someone should try to bottle her warmth. It would go a long way toward curing more than just illness. She briefly covered his hand with hers then left to set the table for supper.
It was all he could do to keep from grabbing the basket of homemade bread she placed in front of him. The aroma was so tantalizing his stomach was turning flips. When Shayla placed a steaming bowl of the soup before him, he wasted no time diving in. Fears about his health fled as he slaked his appetite. The others seemed to enjoy the meal, but Blain swore he'd never tasted anything so good in his entire life. There was something about the soup that filled every part of him with warmth. He reacted to the food as if it were a drug, and he wanted more.
