Powerful Magic (27 page)

          
Megan.
 
With a curse, Kenric recalled the woman he had put from him, meaning to keep her safe.
 

          
It appeared he had failed, as the rock she had stood on was empty.
 
Somehow, whatever his magic had done to the others had happened to her as well.
 

          
Megan had vanished.

#

          
This
was ridiculous.
 
Megan couldn't believe it.
 
Traveling through time was one thing, meeting a Faerie Queen and traveling to the land of faeries was another, but an evil wizard?
 
She was beginning to feel she was living in some skewed video game.

          
As heros went however, Kenric couldn't be beat.

          
Once the battle had begun, she couldn't tear her eyes away from him.
 
Despite all his protestations against magic, the man positively seemed to
resonate
with it.
 

          
She'd been impressed, despite herself, when this Myrddin character changed the weather. His dark visage seemed so blatantly evil that she supposed she ought to be glad that all he had done to her was knock her from Lancelot's back.
 
And even then, he'd thought she was a boy.
 

          
Rhiannon had warned her against this man.
 
Evidently, Kenric was not aware that Myrddin had been the one who had led the dark Faeries against his human family.

          
Megan shivered, hugging her arms tight around her middle.
 
Now Myrddin meant to
kill
Kenric.

          
And for a moment, it looked like Kenric had meant to let him.
 
He had sat frozen, indecision clouding his eyes.
 
Then he'd thrown his head back, his handsome face contorted like he was in agony, and she'd
seen
the power course through him.

          
There'd been a blast of white heat and she'd seen nothing more.

          
Gradually, Megan became aware of her surroundings.
 
The light had changed.
 
She was no longer on the broad plain where the battle had been waged.
 
Instead, surrounding her were grey stone walls, the rock weathered and rough.
 
No fragrant grass lay under her feet; she stood on dirt, damp and moldy.
 
The stench was horrendous - bringing to mind years of filth and neglect and somehow, human sorrow.
 
She bit her bottom lip.
 
It appeared she was deep in the bowels of some castle.
 
In the dungeon.
 
The heavily rusted bars that surrounded her gave that away rather quickly.

          
Great
.
 
Could things get any worse?
 
Hastily she erased the thought, knowing they certainly could.
 
To think she'd once thought she'd had an ordinary, boring life.

          
Maybe no one knew she was here.
 
Her heart leapt.
 
If she wasn't locked in, all she had to do was get out of this castle and figure out a way to find Kenric.
 

          
Or could he find her with his magic?
 

          
Since she had no idea, she couldn't just stay in this dank dungeon and wait for him.
 

          
Walking gingerly, she tried the metal door.
 
With a hiss and a moan, the door gave way.
 

#

          
Once he'd decided to use his magic to save their lives, Kenric saw no reason why he couldn't use it again to find Megan.
 
She couldn't have gone far, even if Myrddin had sent her somewhere.

          
Closing his eyes, he focused inward, searching.
 
He saw only darkness.
 
Darkness and the unyielding, cold finality of lichen covered stone.
 
He smelled a fetid odor like rotten earth and heard in his mind a horrible moan.
 
Megan's moan, Megan's voice.

          
His eyes snapped open as he scanned the empty plains.
 
Danger
.
 
His heart thudded once, hard within his chest, then began to pound.
 
Megan was in some sort of danger.
 
And, since he'd somehow put her there, he had to find a way to save her.

          
The war horse, sensing his urgency, surged forward.

#

          
Megan found herself in a long corridor.
 
On the walls, torches flickered in the drafty air.
 
Praying that no one would chance upon her, she hurried along the passageway.
 
When she came to the narrow staircase, she climbed it without hesitation.
 
Her luck held; no one appeared to challenge her.
 

          
When she reached the top of the stairs, she realized she was on the main floor of the castle.
 
This would be where the greatest danger lay, for the castle inhabitants would roam this area freely.
 

          
Glad she wore the boyish disguise Kenric had given her, Megan hoped she would come across a large crowd and blend into it.
 
In all the movies she'd seen, medieval castles appeared crowded.
 
But in this one, utter silence reigned.
 
The silence seemed so pervasive that she wondered if everyone was asleep.

          
Or dead
.
 
She shivered, remembering those same movies and the savage butchery of the people of these times.
 

          
Surely not.
 
Shaking off her trepidation, she forced herself to continue down the hall.
 

          
Where was Kenric?
 
Why had he sent her here?

          
She reached the end of the hall.
 
Now she could either go right or left.
 
Listening, she heard nothing.
 
No sounds of servants bustling, of children playing, of people.
 
No sounds at all.
 
Maybe, just maybe, she might make it out of here undetected.

          
Taking a deep breath, Megan closed her eyes, counted to ten, and plunged ahead to the right.

          
Smack dab into the biggest man she'd ever seen.
 

          
She reeled back, heart in her throat.
 
Gulped in air and spun on her heel to run.
 

          
Hairy arms the size of tree trucks came up to grab her.
 

          
"What have we here?"
 
The giant boomed.
 

          
Quickly she figured out that she couldn't get away.
 
There was no way.
 
Even if she kicked this man in the shins, it would only anger him.
 
Defeated, she let her shoulders slump.
 

          
He had wavy red hair that went past his shoulders, and a thick beard to match.
 
His pale blue eyes were narrowed, though the corners of his mouth quirked up in the beginning of a smile.

          
Remembering her disguise, Megan took a deep breath.
 

          
"I need to look for my…"
 
Frantically she tried to remember the proper term, "
Liege
lord."
 
Good night, that sounded phony even to her.
 
And for all she knew there were no other lords in this monstrous castle other than the man who had his humongous hands clamped around her forearms.
 
And wasn't
liege
a French word?

          
If she could have brought her hands together, she would have twisted them.
  

          
His eyes narrowed to mere slits.
 
"Really."
 
He boomed in a silky voice.
 
"Which Lord might that be?"

          
"You're hurting me."
 
Instead of answering, she tried for a distraction.
 
That, at least, was no lie.
 
No doubt she would have bruises on her arms from this big lug's hands.

          
He made no move to release her.
 
Instead, he chuckled low in his throat.
 
"A soft lad you are."

          
She knew a real boy would have bristled at that, but she was tired and hungry and really, truly frightened.
 
She wanted Kenric.
 
Odd how a man she'd known only a few days could make her feel so safe, so protected.

          
Megan hung her head.
 
"I'm sorry."
 
She murmured.

          
At that he released her, setting her on her feet with a thump.
 
Men
.
 
Who could ever figure them out?

          
The giant continued to regard her with suspicion.
 
"I have never seen you before."

          
"Do you notice every boy, er steward, in the castle?"
 
           
His thick brows winged up.
 
"Why shouldn't I, since it is my keep?"

          
Keep.
 
Right.
 
She should have remembered that.
 
Keep, not castle.

          
Slowly, she began sidling past him.
 
One foot, then

another.

          
"Hold."
 

          
Megan froze.
 
Even though he'd spoken quietly, the command in his tone was unmistakable.
 

          
She raised her head, peering up at him with what she hoped was an entirely innocent expression.
 

          
"I will have the name."

          
For a moment she drew a blank.
 
Then she remembered he'd asked the name of her liege Lord.
 
Well, there was no help for it.
 
She only knew the name of one man in this strange place, if you didn't count Kern the bandit or Myrddin the evil wizard.
 
    

          
"Kenric of Blackstone."
 
She said proudly, hoping he would not notice how her voice trembled.

          
His eyes narrowed and his huge hand came down, clamping on her shoulder.
 
"Come with me, boy."

          
Apparently, using Kenric's name had been the wrong thing to do.
 
Since she had no choice, she trotted along beside him, two of her steps to each one of his.

          
After what seemed an endless walk down the echoing stone halls, they came to a great hall filled with people of every size and shape.
 
Megan immediately brightened.
 
He wouldn't dare to hurt her now, not with so many witnesses.
 

          
"Good morning, Lord Brighton."
 
Every person they passed hailed the giant.

          
 
So he was a Lord.
 
Megan tried to remember the hierarchy of the monarchy.
 
If she remembered right, it went King, Duke, Earl, and Baron.
 
Maybe.
 
Anyway, this Lord Brighton wasn't a king, since no one called him
your highness
.
 
That was good, she supposed, since kings seemed to have a way of doing whatever they pleased without any consequences.
 
Including disposing of one insignificant boy.