Since that had yet to happen, Morgan was less than concerned about the threat – although he’d gone cold at the thought – than the more immediate one.
The children were in the barn, with Hunters searching for them and Kyri was at his feet.
Looking down at the still form at Morgan’s feet, the wizard said, “Now, to test the theory. You tasted good, little bird. Quite delicious.”
Morgan’s jaw tightened, but Kyri gazed at him intently.
He gave her a small nod, bracing himself and saw her lovely eyes close in relief.
Deliberately, the wizard slowly, obscenely, licked his lips.
“I think I’ll have another taste. Especially because our good High Marshal finds it so offensive.”
Abruptly Kyri found herself hanging in the air, again, drawn close as the wizard gestured.
Pain burst through her again, but this time she was prepared for it and for him.
Even as she cried out in agony, she reached with one hand to grab his shirt and with the other drove her belt-knife up hard beneath his breastbone.
“You should have disarmed me, first,” she snapped.
The wizard froze in disbelief as she rammed the blade home.
His eyes shot open.
Pain ripped through her, it was faltering but she was still weakening. She shoved harder.
Locked together, the wizard stared into her eyes.
She drove the knife deeper.
The pain stopped, some power flooded back into her.
Her knees were weak and she nearly stumbled when her feet hit the floor, but she, Morgan – none of them – could afford it if she missed.
Turning even as the dying wizard dropped to his knees beside her she flung the belt-knife at one of the Hunters holding Morgan.
For a moment Morgan thought they were lost and his heart nearly tore out of him when Kyri screamed, but then he saw the blade as she pulled it back before ramming it home again.
He braced himself.
They would only have this one chance.
Kyri dropped, swayed, but held, turning.
Her belt knife flew, taking the Hunter to his right clean in the throat.
Even as the wizard toppled backward, Kyri leaped over him, racing for the door.
She could do little good in here in such close quarters, but if she could draw some of the Hunters after her, if she could make it into the air…they might have a chance.
The Hunters were caught off guard, only Arthur trying to get in her way, but Kyri had her sword in hand.
She took him through his traitorous throat, shoving him aside to reach the door.
Three of the Hunters followed, one each from Morgan, Colton and Caleb.
Her feet hit the boards of the wide porch, her wings unfolded as some of the Hunters shook off surprise to give chase, leaping after her.
Morgan took advantage of the distraction to ram his shoulder into the Hunter on his left, slamming a fist into its face to drive it back as he drew his sword, burying it in the thing’s gut before wrenching it free again.
He turned, sword slashing, to take the head of one of those holding Colton, giving the man a chance to free himself as Morgan turned to drive his sword into another Hunter, releasing Caleb to turn on the other.
Colton drove his belt-knife into the one holding him, Kyri his inspiration, scrambling to his feet.
“My children,” he shouted.
“Go,” Morgan cried.
Colton raced for the kitchen and the door there.
Using Kyri’s example, Caleb, too, had made use of his belt-knife and now whipped his sword out, slashing at the Hunter who turned to face him. The remaining Hunter holding Gordon hesitated, fatally, as Morgan drove his sword into him. Then he spun.
Kyri.
The delay getting past Arthur was costly. Kyri heard the rush coming behind her and tried – even though she knew in the last instant she wouldn’t make it – for flight.
Glancing behind her she saw the Hunter coming and twisted, her wings folding instinctively, trying to avoid the Hunter’s leap.
She almost made it.
Almost.
Claws scraped across her hip, dragged her over as the Hunter’s momentum took him past her as she hit on her shoulder and tumbled.
Scrambling to her feet, she was barely in time to spin and dodge the next, twisting to try to avoid his claws. Unsuccessfully.
With a sharp snap of her sword, she drove another back. It yelped as she scored its shoulder.
Blood ran down her hip, tickling, a mild distraction compared to the pain there. That weakness, though… She needed time to draw energy, attention and concentration and she had neither.
She felt dizzy, sick…
One came in, fast and low, but she’d fought wolves before and was prepared for the tactic, ducking the one who leaped high. These acted more like animals now than men, forgoing their swords for claws and teeth.
They would devour her if they could.
She slashed and danced away, trying to will away the dark spots dancing in front of her eyes.
Growls and snarls could be heard from the battle outside. Morgan’s heart lurched. He glanced through the window to see Kyri snatched out of the air, roll to her feet and turn to face the next.
“Gordon,” Morgan said, “go help Colton. Caleb, you’re with me.”
Even as they burst through the doors Morgan saw the third leap at Kyri as she swayed. She saw it coming, knew she couldn’t get her sword up in time and threw her arm up to protect her vulnerable throat.
Jaws clamped on her arm, the impact driving her back as a second went low, slashing at her leg and she went down.
Morgan ran, Caleb only a step behind. Caleb took the second Hunter, driving it back as Morgan grabbed the collar of the one on Kyri and threw it backward, its jaws releasing her in its surprise.
The third came in as Kyri stumbled to her feet to guard his back, her wounded arm tucked against her stomach, her belt-knife in her free hand.
Even knowing she was dazed and wounded, the thing hesitated, her eyes were too aware. It paced, waiting for her to falter.
With Morgan’s life depending on her, she wouldn’t.
Morgan braced himself, acutely aware of a wounded Kyri at his back but still grateful for it. As long as she was there and alive, his back was safe, leaving him free to fight.
The thing in front of him paced, then turned in a sudden rush and leaped. Morgan met it with a two-handed swing that cut it in half.
Instantly, he swung one arm behind him, catching Kyri around her waist and holding her hard against him, turning to face the last as it leaped.
Caleb had finished battling his and had taken a good swipe for his troubles when he saw the last one going for the Captain and Kyri.
The Hunter twisted, avoiding Morgan’s swing, landing on its feet and coming again. Morgan drove it back and Caleb swung, hard, breaking the Hunter’s spine.
Chapter Fifty
Colton and Gordon came out of the barn, both of them bloodied and battered, the children with them. Gawain had his sword in hand, looking a little dazed, a little satisfied, but unharmed. Little Angela clung to her father’s hand in shock, while young Brion looked stunned
“The boy did good, Morgan,” Gordon said proudly, his arm over Gawain’s shoulders.
Colton nodded, “He got the children up into the hayloft where the Hunters couldn’t reach them and kicked the ladder free. It was good thinking.”
It was, but Morgan was concerned about Kyri.
Keeping his arm around her, she quivered even as he drew her around in front of him, her legs giving way even as he got his other arm around her.
They all came running as Kyri collapsed in Morgan’s arms, shivering. Her fine-boned face was pale, her aquamarine eyes were dimmed. He brushed her hair back from her face and surveyed the damage as he eased her to the ground, her body trembling against him.
Her arm had been savaged by the Hunter. Bone showed
through in some places. It made Morgan wince to see it and he couldn’t be sure the bones there hadn’t been broken. She was bleeding heavily. There were deep scratches on her hip where the one Hunter had caught her, more at the back of her leg.
Colton took one look and ran into the house, coming out with a blanket to wrap around her and some cloth to bandage her wounds.
As much as he hated to say it, knowing it would only add to Kyri’s suffering, Morgan said, “Colton, we can’t stay here. Neither can you. They know now.”
There was no choice. They had to leave and quickly
It was there in Colton’s face, though, the same knowledge.
Colton looked around at what he’d built, at the house where his children had been born, at the small spot on the rise where their mother was buried and then he looked at his children. His daughter clung to his hand as she hadn’t since she was three and Brion was pale, shaken.
“I’ll get the wagon,” he said, with a nod to Kyri. “Brion, go pack some things, hurry, lad.”
His worried eyes on Kyri, Gordon said, “I’ll give you a hand, Colton. Come on, Gawain.”
“If you hold her, Captain,” Caleb said, “I’ll see what I can do to patch her up.”
Morgan nodded, grateful, knowing Caleb would be as gentle as he could.
Little Angela came over, slipped one hand into Kyri’s uninjured one, her small face so pale her freckles were sharp against her skin. She looked up to Morgan for reassurance, her brown eyes huge.
The gesture touched him.
“She was going to teach me to fly,” she said, in bewilderment.
“I remember,” he said.
Had it only been a few hours ago? Less?
Through the haze of pain and weakness, Kyri knew Morgan’s strong arms were around her, holding her and then a small hand slipped into hers.
Her eyes fluttered. Blinking, she looked to see little Angela there. She attempted a reassuring smile for the girl but another wave of weakness went through her and she gasped.
Turning her head, she looked up Morgan, into his clear blue eyes.
He was all right, alive…
Morgan looked down at her, brushing a kiss across her forehead.
“Lady Kyri,” Caleb said, apologetically, “I have to touch this arm.”
Her breath shuddering, Kyri looked at him, then up at Morgan. Pressing her face against Morgan’s shoulder, she steeled herself and nodded.
The pain was sharp. Tears sprang to her eyes as Morgan tightened his arm around her.
Angela gave a little cry and Kyri realized she was crushing the little girl’s hand.
With an effort she forced her fingers to loosen, panting with the pain.
“Sorry, baby,” she said, softly.
“I’m not a baby,” Angela said solemnly.
Kyri gave a small laugh. “No, sweetness, you’re not.”
“Will you still fly with me?”
Another wave of weakness went through Kyri and then Caleb moved her arm. She tried to bite back the agony but the blackness swallowed her up.
Despite his fear for her Morgan was almost grateful when she fainted.
At least for a time, she wouldn’t know the pain. Cradling her head against his shoulder, he nodded at Caleb to continue.
“Better this way, Captain,” he said. “It’s broken for sure, that arm.”
Should Morgan be grateful that it wasn’t her wings?
Colton, Gordon and Gawain walked toward them, leading the horses and wagon.
“Angela, love,” Colton said. “Run inside and get some things. Include some that are warm. We don’t know how long we’ll be away.”
“But,” she said, looking at Kyri, her eyes pleading....
Rubbing his cheek against Kyri’s soft curls, Morgan said gently. “Kyri’s sleeping right now. Go on.”
Kyri was more than sleeping, she was limp in his arms, but Morgan couldn’t say that. He couldn’t speak his fear.
Her little face troubled, Angela nodded and ran to the house as Brion came out.
“What I want to know,” Colton said, “is what happened to the watchers and the guards? They were supposed to be keeping an eye on you and the guards were supposed to be protecting us.”
“Dead,” Morgan said. “Arthur and Haerold would have seen to that. The question now is how much damage did he do? And with him gone, we’ll have to start all over again.”
Colton shook his head. “No. Arthur wasn’t part of that cell. That was me. Our job was first to watch you, us and those on the hills, to keep you here long enough to see if you had anyone trailing you and then I was to send you on. I guess we’re going, too, this time.”
Chapter Fifty One
Morgan sat in the soft hay at the back of the wagon as it trundled over the hills, Kyri cradled in his arms. His horse was tied to the wagon. He should have been on it, but he couldn’t bring himself to leave her, not again. She hadn’t opened her eyes since the moment she’d fainted and she seemed only to grow more pale and weak by slow seconds, not stronger. Her wounds weren’t healing. Little Angela was curled by Kyri’s side, asleep in the hay, her fingers loosely around Kyri’s limp ones.
Pressing his lips against Kyri’s hair, Morgan whispered what he hadn’t yet said, “I love you, Kyri. Don’t leave me, not so soon. I just found you again.”
For him, Kyri fought the darkness, the weakness, only a small flicker of consciousness aware of herself, of Morgan, fighting the growing fear that she was, in fact, dying. Waves of weakness surged through her. Only Morgan kept her anchored in this place, his strong arms around her giving her strength, keeping her warm. But it took energy to call energy and she barely had enough to keep her heart beating, her lungs breathing. Even her body’s natural healing took energy she didn’t have in her to give, but it kept trying and every moment she gained, she lost. If it had been one or the other…but it was both.
“How is she, Captain?” Caleb asked, worriedly.
Looking at his old friend, Morgan said, his voice heartsick, “I think we’re losing her, Caleb. Whatever that wizard did to her, he took too much.”
Morgan closed his eyes. Would he lose her, too?
Gawain made his way across the straw. “Isn’t there anything we can do?”
Kyri had been through so much for him, for all of them, Gawain knew. Always resolute, kind and steadfast. He remembered how she’d held him when his mother had gone. It didn’t seem right.
Suddenly and sharply, it didn’t seem fair.
“Not without a Healer,” Morgan said in answer, his heart aching.
He’d called for Galan, but who knew how far away the Fairy were? Where once it might have taken hours, perhaps, it would take that much longer. And he feared they didn’t have the hours to spare.
That Kyri didn’t.
Gawain looked down at Kyri helplessly.
It seemed impossible.
From that first meeting in the woods she’d always seemed so sure, so determined, almost indestructible. While she’d always appeared fragile, there had always been that core of strength, that strong will.
How many times had she saved his life now?
On his knees in the straw Gawain took Kyri’s hand and wished he could do something to help her, anything, as she’d helped him.
Lowering his head, he willed her strength.
The contact was a shock, a lightning bolt and Kyri jolted as energy poured into her.
Her eyes shot open, looking first to Morgan in amazement and then to Gawain, blinking in shock as power coursed through her.
Gawain.
Panting, she gasped and with half a laugh said, “Gawain, slow down, or you’ll kill me with kindness.”
It was a near thing, too, her heart hammered in her chest.
Morgan stared at them both in astonishment, hope so sudden and shocking he wasn’t certain he wasn’t imagining it.
Startled, Gawain started to release her.
“NO!” Kyri cried and then moderat
ed her tone. “No, whatever you do, don’t let go right now.”
The distraction had moderated the flow so it didn’t batter her seared internal pathways.
Around them, everyone grew aware of the drama taking place in the wagon bed. Colton pulled the horses up to turn around and look.
Kyri looked at Morgan and smiled, her brilliant eyes shining.
In wonder, he touched her soft cheek, watched color bloom there once again.
Turning her face, she pressed her lips to his palm and kissed it fiercely.
Sliding his hand deep into her tight curls Morgan lifted her head and kissed her as intensely back and then closed his eyes, cradling her head tight against his shoulder, his cheek against her hair.
Kyri pressed back, breathing him in, hearing his heartbeat beneath her ear, a steady rhythm.
She turned to look at Gawain, before looking back at Morgan, laughing.
“There’s your wizard, Morgan,” she said in astonishment, looking at Gawain and smiling. “A wizard and a Healer.”
Stunned, Morgan could only stare at the boy.
Gawain stared right back, in stunned shock.
The words didn’t make sense, but there was something…
“But,” Gordon stammered, “how is it we didn’t know this?”
Kyri shook her head. “The gods don’t give weapons to children. He’s come of age. His power is starting to show itself.”
Bewildered, a little frightened, Gawain shook his head.
“I’m not a wizard,” he declared. He’d seen wizards. He’d seen what they did. Terrible things.
“There are good wizards,” Morgan said, seeing the shock and horror in the boy’s eyes and understanding. “You just haven’t seen them.”
Reassuringly, Kyri tightened her fingers on Morgan’s and Gawain’s hands. “Remember, I have magic, too, Gawain. A different kind of magic, but magic all the same. A Healer, too. And, there’s this…”
She lifted their joined hands.
With a quick stroke to sleeping Angela’s hair, Kyri reached to take Morgan’s hand again against her next words, knowing it would hurt. She looked up at him quickly, brushing her forehead against his chin.
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