WingsOfDesire-AriannaSkye (31 page)

BOOK: WingsOfDesire-AriannaSkye
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Rhiannon shrugged. “Too bad you’re gonna miss it.”

“Didn’t Aine show you what happens when you get too proud?” She swished her whip in a slow arc. “Do I need to give you a lesson as well?”

“Mayhap you do, Korrigan.” Rhiannon curved her lips into a clever smile.

“Very well, then.” Korrigan raised the whip high then slashed her arm down, sending the leather thong zinging through the air.

Rhiannon watched the lash come down toward her face. She closed her eyes and waited.

Chapter Seventeen

Cerne looked up at the night sky, wondering if the stars he gazed at were the same ones Rhiannon stared at when she was on earth. He reined his horse and broke into a gallop. The sooner they made their way to the Dark Cliffs, the sooner they could rescue Rhiannon.

“Cerne!” Maeve called, pushing her steed forward. She kicked the side of the beast and, in a flash, she was next to him. “We need to be careful.” Cerne pulled at his reins, slowing Merlin down. Whipping his head around to face Maeve, he gritted his teeth. “I fear the longer we take, the more in danger Rhiannon becomes.” Maeve nodded as Belenus came to join them. “I understand your concern, but making hasty decisions without much thought can be just as dangerous.”

“True.” He turned to Belenus, whose horse whinnied, neighed, and stomped its hoof into the ground below. “Have you spotted anything amiss?”

Belenus struggled with the reins of his horse. “Pywll has been acting most peculiar.

Darkness is in the air.” The horse shook its head and snorted agreement. He reached down and patted the stallion’s head. “There, there, Pywll. What is it my friend?” Cerne shook his head. Was there no end to the marvelous talents of his friends? Bel, who could talk to the animals, and Maeve—was there anything she couldn’t do? Would he be as talented as them when he gained his wings?

“What sort of talent are you referring to?” Maeve ended her sentence on a chuckle, showing off yet another of her skills.

“Now isn’t the time, nor is it the place, for jokes,” Cerne replied in an even tone.

“I apologize, Cerne.” She looked over to the horizon and narrowed her eyes. She lifted her hands to the sky and threw her head back while taking in the distant surroundings. “The Dark Army is just over the hills. We should proceed that way.” She pointed toward the tall forest of trees to the south.

Belenus scratched his stubble. “Is that wise? All matter of creatures reside in the forest. Not all are good.”

“Are you doubting me, consort?” Maeve shook her head and sighed.

“No offense, my love,” Belenus stammered. “I trust any decision you make, but how do you plan to ward off monsters that would feast on faerie flesh?”

“I’ve been working on a cloaking spell with Ethelred. It will allow us to travel anywhere virtually undetected, even to goblins and the treemen who guard the forests.”

“Sounds impressive.” Cerne tugged Merlin’s reins. The large horse whinnied and stomped a foot in obvious irritation. “The horses are growing restless. What is the problem, Bel?” Belenus leaned toward his horse’s head and gave it an affectionate pat, whispering in the beast’s ear. The horse nickered and neighed, shaking its head. Belenus sat up and brushed his fingers through the horse’s mane. “The horses are weary. Perhaps we should set up camp and take a respite for the rest of the night?”

Cerne gritted his teeth. He wanted like mad to keep pressing forward but knew the importance of resting their mounts. The horses were getting ornery and he’d prefer to be riding on a content, well-rested horse rather than a cranky, overtired one any day. “As much as I’d love to keep moving, I do agree. We need rest.”

Maeve turned to Cerne, her gaze confident. “We’ll get her back soon, don’t worry one bit.” She gripped the reins to her horse, bounded off his back, and led him to a small copse of trees.

There she secured him and grabbing her magic staff from the sheath on her back, planted it into the ground.

Cerne raised an eyebrow. “Is this part of the spell?” Maeve nodded. “That it is. It gives the spell a center focal point. It works better with four people to represent the four elementals, but three should still work for our purpose.” She wedged the staff deeper in the ground. “We each need to walk in equal distance from the staff, depending on the amount of area we want to cloak. Fifty paces should be adequate enough.” Belenus and Cerne gave each other bemused glances. Then again, Maeve was renowned for her skills in magic. They’d learned to trust her at an early age. The mystery potions she’d given them to drink, the strange herbs she made them eat, and who could forget the horrendous balms she’d ordered them to rub on their chests. They still hadn’t figured out what the balm was for.

Knowing Maeve’s creativity, they were probably better off not knowing.

But this was a simple, elemental spell. He didn’t have to worry about ingesting some vile potion or herbs. Besides, he hadn’t caught Maeve hovering over a cauldron in quite some time.

“Grab the staff and dance around in a circle three times. With our backs to each other, walk

fifty paces.” Maeve grinned. “Elemental spells can be more dangerous than potions, by the way.” Gods, he hated her ability to read minds at will, as much as her teaching Rhiannon to block her thoughts. “Is that so?” Cerne muttered.

Always the one to put on a show, Belenus smiled and lifted his feet in a merry jig. “Aren’t you going to dance?”

Cerne looked down at his feet and sauntered around the staff. “I am dancing, Bel.” Bel snorted and snickered. “If you consider that dancing, I feel sorry for the princess.” Maeve raised an eyebrow. “Bel has a point. You need to be livelier. I understand your situation is dire, my lord, but even a little fun can help alleviate your stress.”

“Oh, really?” Cerne asked pointedly. “Like so?” He sprung in the air and kicked up his feet.

The air blew warm and inviting on his face, and he threw his head back, absorbing the warmth.

What in the deities? He closed his eyes, imagining the warmth caressing him was Rhiannon’s lips, gentle, teasing and voluptuous, as her tongue prodded his lips open. Their tongues dueled with each other in a delicious battle.

“See how invigorating dancing can be?” Belenus said. He threw his head back and chuckled.

“I believe Cerne was thinking of more than dancing.” Maeve winked.

“Do you ever grow bored with reading my mind?”

Maeve shrugged. “Such endless hours of amusement should not go wasted.” She tapped her toe. “One more spin around the staff and then we take our places.” Cerne nodded. He leapt, jumped and swirled around the staff. Once they all had resumed their spots, they spun around and walked the allotted amount of steps.

“Wonderful,” Maeve called from behind him. “Now we should lift our hands to the heaven and call upon the Mother Goddess and Father God. I’ll recite an invocation requesting their protection.”

Maeve raised her voice, reciting her request to the ancient Gods. “Oh Mother Goddess and Father God, heed our request. Protect us, cloak us, and shield us from death. With the elements of earth, air and water we beseech thee.”

The clouds broke and a bright star flickered above them, bathing them in vibrant glitters of energy. The sparkles formed a dome around them, surrounding them in warm violet light. Maeve offered her thanks up to Mother Goddess and Father God and the glow dissipated, leaving a foggy mist in its place.

“We are protected and cloaked in the fog. We can turn around now.” Maeve clapped in delight.

Cerne spun around, noticing the fog around them, yet he saw perfectly through the hazy mists. Ever since he’d been a child, he’d been in awe of magic, always wishing for his powers to develop. Granted, he had some powers, but they paled in comparison to his winged friends’

abilities.

“Amazing. So nothing will disturb us?”

Maeve nodded. “And we won’t disturb anything around us, either.”

“Very impressive, my dear.” Belenus grabbed his pack off the back of his horse. “You’ll have to show me that skill when we return to the palace.” Maeve’s lips curved into a seductive grin—not that she needed to do much to seduce Bel—

as she sashayed toward her life-mate. “I’ll show you more than that when we return, love.” Cerne rolled his eyes. Thank the Gods she would wait until they returned. He pulled his pack from his horse and took out the mushroom-skin tarp, unfolding it and throwing it up in the air. Making a silent thanks to Ethelred for blessing the tarps before they left, he gazed up to watch the tent forming in the air. With a soft thump the tent landed, securing itself to the ground.

Maeve followed suit and set up another tent. Traveling with your consort had its merit—you could share your tent. Cerne took a deep breath. Alas, he wasn’t so fortunate. His tent was empty. And it was all Korrigan’s fault again.

Who was he trying to dupe? He was partially at fault, too. He’d said some pretty hurtful things to Rhiannon, although he’d had every intention of taking them back. Korrigan, however, had reaped her havoc again, snatching Rhiannon from right underneath their noses. He should’ve known better and accompanied Rhiannon and Viviane back to the courtesans’ chambers. Then again, wasn’t the amulet supposed to protect her? What a fat lot of protection it had offered her.

When this was done and over, he would tell Rhiannon his feelings. He cared for her, but he couldn’t be bound to Earth forever, even for the extremely erotic encounters they shared.

What was a man supposed to do?

“I’m going to bed.” Cerne whipped open the flap of his tent and strode inside, not offering them a backward glance. Perhaps his mind would be clearer in the morning.

~*~*~

The anticipated strike of Korrigan’s whip did not connect. Rhiannon opened her eyes just in time to witness the evil Queen’s arm being wrenched behind her back. The ominous snap of bones being broken echoed in the cell.

“Aahh!” Korrigan shrieked, her arm hanging limp at her side.

Aine stepped forward, pushing her sister down to the ground. A wild fury Rhiannon had not seen before shone in Aine’s dark eyes as she sent the whip cracking, lashing Korrigan’s pale, smooth face. “That is for Sionnach,” she growled, dropping the whip. “And this, my dear sister, is for me.” She reached within her skirt and pulled out a long steel dagger as she placed her booted foot across Korrigan’s neck.

Korrigan glared up at Aine, tracing her finger against the bloody gash on her cheek. “Kill me. You know you want to. Take my power so my spirit can live on within you instead.” From the way it sounded, by killing Korrigan, Aine would pick up her sister’s soul as well.

Who in their right mind would want that?
Thanks, but no thanks!
And had she just heard Aine mention Sionnach? Cerne’s brother? Perhaps she knew what had happened to him.

Unfortunately, now wasn’t the time for questions. If Rhiannon wanted those questions answered she needed to get out of here, and Aine seemed like her only way out.

Maybe she could reason with her. “Aine, you don’t want that, do you? I think you and I need each other more than we both realize.”

“She’s hurt so many people. She must be stopped.” Aine’s hand shook and her knuckles turned white as she gripped the dagger tighter.

“She’ll be stopped, but don’t put your soul at risk by killing her in cold blood.” Rhiannon offered Aine a reassuring smile. “Get back at her another way.”

“How?”

“Help me escape,” Rhiannon said, her tone hopeful.

Korrigan cackled from beneath Aine’s foot. “Don’t you see what she’s doing? She’s trying to use you. As soon as she’s free, you'll be naught but a fleeting memory.” Rhiannon gulped. She would give Aine anything she wanted. She would treat her like the sister she didn’t have. “I won’t forget you. You’ll be taken care of.”

“I can call the guards, you know. You won’t get away with this.” Korrigan struggled beneath Aine.

“Not without your voice.” Aine reached out her hand as if she were grabbing something in mid-air and pressed her hands together. “Try speaking now.” Korrigan opened her mouth but only a tiny squeak came out. Her eyes sparked a look akin to surprise as she writhed and struggled against Aine’s booted foot.

Aine stood above her sister, twisting the dagger in her hand. She looked up toward Rhiannon, sorrow shining deep within her eyes. She bit her lip hard and pulled her sister up off the ground. Keeping the knife poised at her throat, she dug around Korrigan’s skirt until she located the key.

Korrigan gritted her teeth and narrowed her eyes as if she were concentrating. Anger flared in her eyes and had she been a cartoon character, flames would have been coming from her ears.

Then again, the idea of a leather-clad cartoon character didn’t hold much appeal.

Aine shrugged. “I’ve learned how to block my thoughts,” she said, matter-of-factly. “Thank you for making me a stronger person, sister.”

Korrigan snarled and tried to break free from Aine’s hold. She turned to Rhiannon and gave her a scathing glare, as if this was all her fault. Gotta love those I-can-do-no-wrong egotists.

Korrigan gritted her teeth and clenched her fists as Aine led her to another set of shackles.

“Where is the amulet, sister?” Aine asked, slamming an iron shackle around Korrigan’s wrist.

Rhiannon blinked. Was this all for the amulet only? Was Aine only rescuing her to get hold of the Mother Amulet’s power? Well hell, so much for making a new friend. “Something tells me your sister isn’t the sharing type.”

Korrigan reached out to grab Aine’s hair with her hand.
Yep, definitely not one who liked to
share
. Aine wrenched her elbow around and met Korrigan’s stomach. Crashing against the wall, Korrigan gasped.

“No she doesn’t.” Aine grabbed Korrigan’s other hand and secured it to the wall.

“Why do you want the amulet?” Rhiannon asked.

Bemusement filled Aine’s face. “Me? I have no desire for it. It belongs to you.”

“Oh, yeah.” Guilt at doubting Aine’s motives nagged her. “I’m sorry.”

“I’d do the same in your position, Princess.” Despite Korrigan’s attempts to kick her face, Aine managed to shackle her sister’s ankles. “How does it feel, my dearest sister, to be the one at someone’s mercy? Oh, I forgot. You cannot talk.” Aine threw back her head and laughed, her

BOOK: WingsOfDesire-AriannaSkye
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