Old Magic (26 page)

Read Old Magic Online

Authors: Marianne Curley

Tags: #Juvenile Fiction, #General, #Fiction, #Children: Young Adult (Gr. 7-9), #Children's Books - Young Adult Fiction, #Science Fiction; Fantasy; Magic, #Fantasy & Magic, #Love & Romance, #Schools, #Girls & Women, #Supernatural, #Historical, #Medieval, #Historical - Medieval, #Boys & Men, #Time travel

BOOK: Old Magic
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The next couple of weeks pass in a blur. I become frantic for news of Kate. She remains at Blacklands with Rhauk. And I feel him now, his aura, his energy—something impossible to my imagination a short while ago. He grows edgy. I guess that’s because he can sense my powers growing. It makes him uneasy.

Every day I train. Richard and Malcolm help me, pushing me into new areas of magic as soon as I accomplish one aspect or trick. Morgana helps too, as she has a talent of her own, not psychic or anything, a kind of mellow magic, healing with herbs her specialty. And thanks to Morgana my wounds are healing nicely. She removed the stitches from my neck only this morning. Both of us were pleased to see the earlier signs of infection disappearing.

Unfortunately Emmeline watches me train too, ever eager to find an excuse to be near me. I try to ignore her advances. I don’t want to be responsible for hurting her feelings, but as I get to know her better, I realize, the girl doesn’t have any, except for her own beauty and desire to have her sexual appetite satisfied.

I’m even growing closer to Richard and Isabel, especially now that they accept the evidence of my “witchcraft.” The feelings are returned. If there is one loyalty that Richard has, it’s to his family; except Rhauk, with whom he adamantly denies any blood link. To do so would mean to lose Thorntyne Keep; Rhauk as the eldest son, would inherit all. Richard will never let this happen, his love for his lands, his castle, his family, are the things that drive him.

At times I try to make him think about his loyalty to his village, the peasants and workers there. But he scoffs at this, and I remember I shouldn’t interfere. To Richard there is a clear line between noblemen and women, his family, his knights, and the lower class of crafts people and farm workers. He sees them only as peasants, scum of the earth.

It seems I can’t work spells like Kate, my magic is all from my head. A kind of thought projection that actually changes things. Nature is the easiest for me to work with. I’ve made Isabel’s precious roses bloom double in size on every bush, and withered her herb garden with one concentrated look. She tells me off, but with affection, and hugs me when I return her garden to thriving health.

I have a long way to go, but I sense Rhauk’s restlessness. I just hope he can hold on to his temper until I’ve learned enough skills to better him. It’s possible, of course, that I may never have enough strength. Even knowing this, it will not stop me from fighting him. It has turned into more than a battle to save my family and future descendants from a frightful curse now. It has become a personal battle.

For Kate.

And I go crazy every day I don’t hear anything. As I improve in the paranormal arts, I also improve in the physical. I need to know how to wield a sword, and fight with my hands if necessary. I’ve had many volunteers helping me in these areas. Today it’s Malcolm. My worry for Kate comes up in conversation as I deflect a lunge from his sword.

“I have an idea about this,” he says and explains himself.

His plan is good; I consider its merits. After a long discussion the plan is fine-tuned and ready to put into action.

It will prove to be a test of Malcolm’s friendship.

Kate

It’s been almost three weeks and Jarrod hasn’t returned home. Rhauk refuses to teach me anything until he rids himself of Jarrod, one way or another; but Rhauk is aware of Jarrod’s presence. So I know Jarrod is still at Thorntyne Keep. Every day he remains, Rhauk grows more restless, peevish. He has a foul black temper. I’ve only to mention Jarrod’s name and the man goes insane on me. I’ve learned to shut my mouth. Most of the time, anyway. But sometimes I just can’t help it. My perverse side enjoys seeing Rhauk lose control.

Time is passing agonizingly slowly. I have so little to do. Mostly I’m confined to my room, looking out over the inhospitable ocean. I spend many hours just thinking: How easy would it be to lean across the stone window ledge far enough to lose my balance? My pain would end, but what else would this achieve? There would be no one then to watch Rhauk, to keep him to his promises.

He storms into my room in a fit of temper, the darkest I’ve seen yet. As usual he wears all black, this time only a ribbon of silver rims the edges of his tunic and undershirt. “He leaves me no choice, my lady!”

I pull away from the window ledge and face him. “What are you talking about? Who leaves you no choice?”

He jerks an extended arm, pointing vaguely in the direction of Thorntyne Keep. A shower of gold sparks smashes into the stone wall to my left. “Your lover!”

I don’t correct him, letting him believe his fantasy. As long as he thinks Jarrod and I are lovers, he leaves me alone, sexually at least. Besides this bonus, the idea positively irritates Rhauk. Something that gives me immense pleasure.

“What is Jarrod doing that so upsets you?”

His black eyes narrow, but he remains silent. He isn’t going to tell me. Whatever it is, though, has got him in a real spin. With a sudden insight that nearly knocks me over, I understand. My mouth drops open, then transforms into a smile I can’t stop from spreading across my face. “He’s training, isn’t he?” Rhauk doesn’t reply. He doesn’t have to. I can smell his disapproval. So Rhauk knows Jarrod’s gift is truly immense, and now that Jarrod is learning how to use it, Rhauk is getting nervous. My pulse starts racing. “Jarrod’s getting stronger, isn’t he?”

Silence.

“My God, his powers are growing so strong, he’s scaring you.”

“Shut up, wench!”

His icy tone doesn’t scare me like it probably should. I’m too hyped up with the knowledge of what Jarrod’s been doing with his time—accepting the gift, harnessing his powers. “You’re afraid of him,” I dare. “You’re panicking!”

He flies across the room and hits me all in the space of one heartbeat. If only I’d been paying more attention to his mood, I might have been able to avoid the connection. Instead, Rhauk’s fist smashes into the right side of my jaw. Sharp pain throbs from ear to chin. Something falls onto my tongue, small and solid. A tooth, I soon realize, and spit it out. There is blood too. I taste it. The bastard.

I would try a quick spell, but there’s no point. Rhauk would only be amused. The spells I have tried over the past few weeks have proved useless. He’s aware of everything I do. He outsmarts me. I detest him.

He heads for the door, but turns just before it with an afterthought. “Jarrod must be gone by morning. Right now I am going to pluck my sweet little herb out of the ground by its roots and extract the oil I need that way to finish this damn curse. This close to winter the strength of its poison will be sufficient, and will make no difference to the sweet taste of my wine.”

“You would break your promise?”

He laughs coarsely. “My lady, did you really think I would keep it?”

“But . . . you said . . . if I stayed—”

“I lied.”

“Why? I lived up to my end of the bargain. I came back to you!”

“And I gave you what you wanted—freedom for your lover to return from wherever he came. It’s your fault he didn’t leave. You obviously didn’t try hard enough to convince him.”

Nausea hits me. I sway and grab the bedpost nearby. “But the curse, you promised to destroy it. It was part of the deal!”

“If I hadn’t promised, would you still have chosen me?”

This does not require an answer. He knows I would never have, and this explains the reason for his lies. He tricked me. Just like he thinks Eloise had been tricked into choosing Lionel instead of him all those years back. And Jarrod will probably still die, and I’m trapped in this cold and drafty hell-hole with a dangerous lunatic for the rest of my life. It’s all been for nothing. The curse will still go ahead. And there is no way Jarrod will be gone by sunrise. The thought hits me that I will never see Jillian again.

I have to try something; panic threatens to suffocate my lungs. How can this have happened? I watch, my soul filled with black, passion-fueled hatred, as Rhauk moves toward the door. “If you go ahead with the curse—breaking your promise to me—I will jump out of this window, taking my chances with the cliffs below.”

This seizes Rhauk’s attention. His eyebrows lift, black eyes shift to the only window in the room, the one that overlooks the cliff, contemplating, assessing the weight of my threat. Would I really go through with it? When he turns back, he searches for my eyes, and locks with them. He is too fast, the effect hypnotic. “In that case, my lady, you leave me no choice but to control your mind sooner rather than later.”

“What?”

He doesn’t bother to explain. Immediately I feel a sharp stab of energy. He moves closer and the energy that holds me suddenly changes, twists, piercing like a dagger straight into my mind. It is so intense it hurts, and takes all my concentration to stop it from penetrating my brain so deeply I feel sure it will cause permanent brain damage.

I try to break free, but all attempts prove useless. My legs give out on me, but the power of Rhauk’s punishment holds me frozen. The energy grows and electricity jolts through my body in shuddering waves.

I know the moment I start to lose it. Control, the remaining trickle I cling to, finally disappears. I begin to plead, in my mind, through my mind. I don’t know if he hears me, or whether it incites him more, but I understand that if he doesn’t release me now, my mind will never be the same, but altered, damaged. Forever.

I fall to the floor in a heap, the connection finally severed. I don’t know why he let go, except perhaps he doesn’t want me that way—brain-dead. Whatever his reasons, I’m too drained to think at this moment.

I do hear him though, as I start to lose my grip on consciousness. “You will never escape me, Lady Katherine. That was just a sample of what is to come for you. After I’m done with your lover, and after I’ve delivered the gift of wine to my traitorous brother, I will attend to your training. And you will be mine—completely.”

I think he is going to leave, but at the door he pauses. “It was something I wanted for Eloise, but her mind wasn’t as strong as yours.” He turns back for one last look. “By the time I’ve finished with you, my lady, you will appreciate the beauty of Blacklands, and enjoy being my queen.”

Jarrod

I’m aware of the exact moment my time runs out. Rhauk does something to Kate. Power, a surge of energy so strong I feel it in my own head, like someone is twisting a corkscrew into my skull. I wonder, fleetingly, if she will live through it. Her pulse is slow, so slow. But she lives. For now, that’s all I have.

So I am forced out of training and into a challenge. Tomorrow, at dawn, I will meet Rhauk in battle.

“Jarrod, what’s wrong?”

Richard’s voice is concerned. He breaks through my image of Kate near death. I explain what I feel. “It is time, my lord.”

His eyes grow in alarm. I hear his mind thoughts, reading his doubts. We both know I’ve trained hard, and with his and Malcolm’s help and that of the other knights, and of course the maid, Morgana, I can do incredible things now. Things I never thought possible. But still, Richard wonders if I’m strong enough to match Rhauk. Strong enough to better Rhauk.

I throw my arm around his shoulder. “I had better be, my uncle,” I say, surprising him that I accurately read his thoughts. “Rhauk will not give me a second chance.”

Kate

I come to while still on the floor. Slowly I drag myself to the bed and sit, my head heavy in my hands, as if it’s filled with lead. I try to recall what happened and how I ended up in this state, but I hear distant voices. The sound is so unusual it has my instant attention. In all the time I’ve spent at Blacklands, never once have I heard Rhauk in conversation with anyone except his crow. But this is different. There are two distinct voices, both male, one definitely Rhauk’s. The other . . . I can’t place, yet it sounds vaguely familiar.

I stumble to the door. It’s not locked. There’s no point, no one can leave or enter Blacklands without an invitation. It’s magically enchanted. The gates operate at his command. Only the birds are free to fly in and out.

Thank God my head starts to clear. It gives me the strength I need to find out who is Rhauk’s visitor. Perhaps it is someone who can help me escape. This thought triggers an adrenaline surge. I walk the corridors with bare feet, tracing the sounds of conversation.

I find them eventually in the Refectory, which used to be the room where the nuns did their learning. It still has several of the original chairs and desks. I stay just outside the slightly open door, my heart galloping so intensely, I’m sure I’m on the verge of swallowing it.

This close at least, I can make out their words. At first I think, At last, here’s the help I need, if only to get a warning to Jarrod. The other voice is Malcolm’s—Lord Richard’s son.

It only occurs to me when I hear them laughing, that something is terribly wrong with this scene. They sound on too good of terms; and how did Malcolm get into Blacklands? By Rhauk’s invitation? Or did Malcolm request this meeting? Knowing Rhauk, anything Malcolm requests will carry an expensive price tag.

I listen, cautious not to send out a mind probe as Rhauk would know instantly where I am.

“So,” Rhauk’s velvety voice echoes through the hollow rooms. “Your information is interesting in the least. Our mutual acquaintance has come far these past weeks. Of course, not nearly far enough to better me.”

“Of course not.”

There is an audible pause, then Rhauk again, “Do we have the same goal in mind?”

Unhesitatingly, Malcolm replies, “You know I treasure Thorntyne Keep as much as you do Blacklands.”

Surely Malcolm isn’t that naive. Rhauk wants Thorntyne Keep as well as Blacklands, if only to satisfy his need for revenge.

“Your information shall not go unrewarded,” says Rhauk.

“I’m just glad I can be of service. The sooner this scoundrel is dispensed with, the better we’ll all be. But . . .” There is a pregnant pause. I think my heart stops. “If you have a small reward in mind . . . Perhaps an evening with the sweet Lady? She still keeps you company I assume.”

I fall back as if I’ve been physically pushed. My God! Malcolm means me! Rhauk laughs, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Oh yes, she makes intriguing company. And, my friend, don’t fear, for your reward shall be very sweet indeed.”

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