Powerful Magic (42 page)

          
Megan flinched.
 
"He is an evil man.
 
I still haven't told Kenric everything."
  

          
"Kenric will understand."

          
"I don't know if he will."
 
Sighing, Megan stepped away, murmuring a goodnight as she headed toward the trees.

          
Rhiannon watched her walk away, aching for both her brother and his mate, certain neither of them understood the depth and scope of the battle or of the tremendous trials and tribulations yet to come.

#

          
As soon as Megan vanished into the woods, a necessary prelude to bedtime, Kenric strode over to Rhiannon.
 
His rough hewn face was a study in expressionless unconcern, telling her he was actually supremely worried.
 
But about which - the upcoming clash of magic or the palpable distress of Megan, his soulhalf - she didn't know.

          
Watching him, she held her tongue and waited for him to speak.
  
He stared at her so long in silence, his silver

eyes haunted, that finally she was compelled to help him.
 

          
"What is it, brother?"

          
"Megan."
 
He said her name like a curse, half-exasperated, half-longing.
 
"Will she return to the future when this is done?"

          
She cursed under her breath.
 
It was not within her nature to lie; indeed, it was forbidden by a faerie law as old

as time.
 
She had not lied to Megan, merely skirted around the answer.
 
Even this she could not do now, not to Kenric, not in the face of his anguish.

          
"I do not know."
 
She admitted finally, her voice low.
 

          
He narrowed his gaze.
 
"Does she want to go?"

          
"I think not, but you had best ask that question of her rather than me."

          
"Do you know how to send her back, should she ask you to?"

          
"No."
 
Rhiannon admitted.
 
"But I am sure the spell exists somewhere, buried in the Hall of Records."

          
Lady help her, she saw the surge of hope her words brought him, hope that he ruthlessly quashed, making her watch helplessly as it flared, then died in his eyes.

          
Tilting his head, he phrased his next question carefully.
 
"Is there another among your people who does know how?"

          
Rhiannon shrugged.
 
"Not yet.
 
But anything is possible."

          
He swallowed, expelling his breath in a gusty sigh.
 
"I do not want her to go.
 
Once this is finished, I will ask her if she wishes to stay."

          
"Do you not know the answer yourself?"
 
Rhiannon asked gently, reaching out and touching him on the arm.
 

          
His mouth twisted.
 
"I am not sure.
 
Where Megan is concerned, I am no longer sure of anything."

          
"I am sorry."
 
She knew her words of apology were inadequate, yet she had to speak them, for they were truth.
 
"What she did was necessary, to her mind."

          
Both of them glanced at the woods, neither wanting Megan to hear.
 

          
"But you brought her here."

          
Trying desperately for a casualness she did not feel, she shrugged.
 
"Because the prophecy decreed it.
 
It was my duty.
 
What my council and I initiated can only be done once.
 
If she returns to the future, we cannot bring her back."

          
He frowned, his expression thoughtful.
 
"Does she know this?"

          
"No.
 
She does not."

          
He sighed again, and ran a hand through his thick hair, a ruffled lion's mane of sable, so unlike her own silver locks.
 
"Think you it will sadden her, once she finds she is trapped here?"

          
"No, Kenric."
 
Rhiannon lay a hand on his massive forearm.
 
"I honestly don't believe she wants to leave."

          
Again the hope flared in him.
 
Rhiannon saw it and rejoiced.
 
 

          
"What of this Roger?"

          
"You need to speak to her about him.
 
All she would tell me is that he is an evil man.
 
He has no hold on her.

here."

          
"Did she tell you this?"
 
 

          
"Not in so many words."
 
Now it was Rhiannon who took a deep breath.
 
Dare she speak truth to him, her half-brother who always ran from what she was about to hand him?
 

          
Looking at him, seeing the anguish and fear and a kind of calm acceptance that had never been there before, she knew she must.
 
"She loves you, Kenric.
 
With all her heart.
 
The same way you love her."

          
About to answer, he apparently thought better of it and clamped his mouth closed.
 
Lips a straight line, he looked away, not towards the woods this time, but to where his war horse grazed, serene and content.

          
Now, she knew, she had to make him understand the seriousness of what was to come.
 
Perhaps then he could accept the emotions that swirled inside of him.

          
"This battle--"
 
She began.

          
"It will be fine, Rhiannon."
 
He cut her off, drawing himself up until he looked every inch the magnificent human warrior that she knew he was.
 
"I will take care of this Myrddin for you, then you will let me live my life in peace."

          
Again she found herself cursing faerie curses under her breath.
 
If ever she could pick a time when she would be allowed to speak a lie, just one tiny white lie, now would be the time.
 
Instead, she knew she'd been charged with the task of making this stubborn man understand the truth.

          
"I'm afraid it will not be that simple."

          
He froze, cocking his head to watch her, the arrogance of his stance telling her he would not receive her words well.
 
"Explain."

          
"As you are aware, Myrddin must be fought with magic--"

          
Again he interrupted, waving away her concerns with a careless move of his hand.
 
"I have done so once.
 
I will do it again.
 
With some training from you, of course."

          
"Nay, brother."
 
She drew herself up too, wrapping around her the mantle of queenship that she so despised.
 
"Tis not that simple.
 
In order to best this wizard, you can not only
use
magic, but must become it."

          
"I do not understand."

          
"Tis like a young warrior, preparing for his first battle.
 
You would not hand him a sword and send him out into the thick of things unprepared, would you?"

          
He laughed, relief showing in his face.
 
"So I must train?
 
I have already agreed to do so."

          
"Aye, Kenric, that is the way of it."
 
She held up a hand when he would have interrupted yet a third time.
 
"But that is not all.
 
In order to train, you must come to Rune.
 
You must acknowledge who you are to the people - the warrior of prophecy.
 
Only then will they agree to teach you."

          
"No."
 
Flat voiced, he turned away.
 
"You are saying that I must agree to become their Savior.
 
I do not like accolades or worship.
 
This must be kept secret."

          
Heart pounding, it took every ounce of restraint she

possessed not to go after him.
 
"You
are
the savior, Kenric of Blackstone.
 
The prophecy has decreed it.
 
You know the words as well as I.
Half Faerie, half man
.
 
This is you. Whether you wish to admit it or not."

          
In the very act of moving away, he spun around to face her.
 
The harsh rage he let show on his face had her taking an involuntary step back.

          
"Have done with your lies, sister.
 
Tell me the whole of it now, so that I will have no other surprises awaiting me beyond every turn in the road."
  

          
Though the light from the full moon seemed bright, it was dark by the time they finished speaking and the fire had burned low.
 
Surprised, he gathered some more wood and built it back up.
 
He had agreed to nothing, knowing deep within himself that there had to be another way.
 
He could never become one such as his sister, wholly of the world of Faerie.
 
There was too much human in him.
 
Nor would he accept being held up as something he was not.
 
He was no savior - merely a warrior with one final task, one last battle, before he might find peace.

          
There had to be another way.
 
He promised himself that he would find it.
 

          
Gradually, he realized something was not right.
 
It was too quiet.
 
Glancing around their small campsite, he saw nothing amiss.
 
The war horse had finished grazing and now watched the edge of the woods, his ears cocked forward.
 
With a start, Kenric realized the animal watched for Megan to reappear.

          
"Rhiannon,"
 
Trying to calm the fear that rose in him, he motioned to his sister, "how is it that Megan has not yet returned?"

          
Immediately, she strode towards him, her expression concerned.
 
"I did not realize.
 
We talked for so long, she should be back by now."

          
His blood thrumming, Kenric grabbed his sword.
 
"I will find her."

          
Lancelot nickered, as if in agreement.

          
"I will go with you."
 
Rhiannon told him.
 
Immediately she cloaked herself in her protective magic, becoming a vague outline of shimmering light.
 
He knew she could make herself entirely invisible if she so desired.
 
He knew also that she claimed he had the same power, were he willing to use it.
 
Somehow.

          
No.
 
In the world of men, he was a legendary warrior.
 
He would fight as a man.
 
Now and until the battle to come.
 

          
At the edge of the woods he paused, listening.
 
Though the bright moonlight helped, darkness was full among them, making the forest a dangerous place.
 
Wild animals had begun to prowl; with the instincts born through years of danger he sensed their hunger.