Lone Star Magic

by Karen Whiddon

  Despite all this, still the need remained. One look at Carly was all it took to re-ignite the simmering flame inside him. Around her these days, desire always seethed below his skin.

  He found himself wishing he’d met her in another time and place. Wishing? Romantic dreams were Cenrick’s specialty, not his. Alrick had never been one for foolish imaginings or for wanting what he knew he could not have.

  And he could not have Carly. He needed to remember that.

  “Let’s break our fast.” A trace of impotent anger leaked into his tone.

  Her impossibly green eyes widened. Moving reluctantly, she slipped her new sword into the beautiful gilt scabbard she now wore around her waist.

  “I want a Belgian Waffle, with strawberries,” she told him, defiance in her voice. “Maple syrup. Warm. And coffee, pots and pots of coffee, with cream and sugar. Oh, and throw in some OJ while you’re at it. Got that?”

  “I can’t use magic to bring us food. Just because the Mage—.”

  “Oh, lighten up Alrick.” She sounded on the verge of tears. “I was joking. Joking, get it?”

  Since her mood appeared to match his own, he turned away without another word. He’d gather their foodstuffs in the forest, as he always did. Then, once they’d eaten, they needed to talk. They couldn’t run forever. It was well past time they came up with some sort of strategy.

  After they’d eaten the morning’s meager pickings, Carly stood. “I’ve got the perfect plan.”

  Cautiously, he motioned for her to continue.

  “The best defense is an offense.”

  Shades of Lothar, she was beautiful when she was angry.

  He forced himself to concentrate. “Explain.”

  “We’ve got to think of some way to set a trap for the Warlord. The next time he shows his face, we nab him.”

  “He’s never here long enough.”

  “Each time he seems to be able to stay longer.”

  She had a point. Still… “All right, say the next time he’s able to materialize for more than a few seconds. What are you proposing we do?”

  “You have magic. You tell me.”

  “It’s worth a try,” he said slowly. “As long as you promise me you won’t take any foolish chances.”

  “Hey, I’m armed now.” For further emphasis, she fingered the hilt of her sword in what he guessed she thought was a menacing manner.

  Actually, the movement of her slender fingers only looked sensual. He groaned, dragging his hand across his mouth. “I will not permit you to try and taunt the Warlord. You have no idea—.”

  “I know, I know. I have no idea what I’m dealing with. I never said I wanted to taunt him. Just let me distract him, while you swoop in and nab him.”

  He noticed she didn’t say kill. “The Warlord will not allow himself to be captured. When I take him on, it will be a fight to the end.”

  She shot him a look under her lashes and swallowed. I just think we should use me as bait to distract him. That’s all. Then, when he swoops in to kill me, you zap him. Take him out.”

  “Zap him?”

  She waved her hand. “Whatever. As long as it works.”

  “No. Too dangerous.”

  “Hey, I’m not going to be in any danger. Especially since I might be…”

  “Might be what?”

  She shook her head. “Trust me, it will work. I’ve seen the same thing happen often enough.”

  “You’ve seen the same thing? Where? When?”

  “In movies.” She grinned, not at all abashed. “They have to be realistic. They do research and everything.”

  Gritting his teeth, he kept himself completely still. “This is not a game.”

  “Don’t you think I realize that?” Again she cradled her abdomen protectively.

  “You could be carrying our child.”

  Though her eyes filled with tears, her smile had more brilliance than a thousand Texas suns. “I know.”

  “I will not risk it. Or you.”

  “Me neither. I’ll be careful.”

  “No.”

  “Alrick…” Color high, she advanced on him, meaning to argue.

  He kissed her instead.

  When he slanted his mouth over hers, she melted. For half a second. Then she stiffened. “Oh, no.” She pushed against his chest. “You cant’ distract me this time… mmmmm.”

  When he deepened the kiss, her arms came up to wind around his neck. She pressed against him, and he pushed back, letting her feel the strength of his arousal. He felt invigorated, alive, and randy as a young stallion.

  They might have made a child. Together.

  Their clothing was an unwelcome barrier between them. Even as he grabbed at hers, she tugged his. Then, bare skin to bare skin, they came together, intertwined. When he entered her, he felt like a starving man given a feast. Poetic, yes and unlike him, true. But he had no other words to describe what this woman had become to him.

  She was everything.

  He didn’t know how he ever was going to leave her.

  Stupid. Foolish. She had a destiny to fulfill. And he, he had a kingdom to run.

  After they’d made love again, Alrick had held her. For the space of a heartbeat or two, Carly allowed herself to wallow in the awful/wonderful sensation of being loved. Then, because she was not a stupid woman and didn’t believe in self-delusion, she pushed herself out of his arms. He let her go without a word, as she’d known he would. Child or no child, he had his own path to follow.

  They’d cleaned up, climbed on their respective horses, and began again the journey towards nowhere.

  Falling slightly behind, she allowed herself to memorize the perfect shape of Alrick’s shoulders, the sinewy muscles of his massive arms, the thick, dark hair curling at his neck. She had touched this man, loved this man, and her

  life would be forever changed, child or no child.

  Alrick’s lovemaking made her a new woman, a different woman, and while part of her felt sorrow at letting go of her widowhood, another part of her realized it was past time to move on with her life. Time to heal.

  But how could she, when she’d chosen a man who could only leave her?

  She was utterly, achingly tired of fleeing. If the Warlord were to show up now, she’d confront the sick bastard, just to be done with it.

  “Alrick.” She rode up beside him. “It’s time.”

  The wary look he gave her made her almost want to laugh. Almost.

  “Time for what?”

  But looking at him, at the belligerent set of his sensual mouth, she knew she didn’t want more discussion. “No more talk,” she said softly. “No more running, either. Time for action.”

  With a slight salute, she kicked her mare into a run. As they raced off away from a startled Alrick, Carly drew her sword and held it high above her head.

  “Be ready,” she called over her shoulder. Her heart pumped, her blood raced, and she felt pure joy at being alive.

  “Carly!” Alrick came after her. She’d known he would and knew too that TM could easily outrun her sleek mare. So now, while she was still ahead of him, was the time to put her daring plan into action.

  “Warlord,” she screamed, lifting her sword to the sky. “I’m here. Come and get me.”

  “Carly, no! Don’t taunt him!” Alrick was gaining on her, TM’s pounding hooves stirring up dust and closing the distance fast.

  But he would be too late. Even she felt the shift in the air pressure, the shivery sensation skittling along her skin.

  Magic. The Warlord. Taking up her challenge.

  “Come on, Warlord.” Bringing Merry to a sliding stop, Carly brandished her sword.

  Hooves pounding as Alrick rode hard to catch her.

  Above, an image flickered. Black hooded robe. Icy, blue eyes. The Warlord!

  “Carly,” Alrick shouted, almost there. “Run.”

  The black-cloaked figure solidified, hovering in the air twenty feet above them, emerging from the clouds like
the second coming of a dark anti-Christ.

  “Run!” Alrick slid to a stop next to her.

  “No. No more running.” She jumped to the ground, keeping her back against her mare. She drew her sword. “You can help me or not. But I’m going to fight.”

  “Damn it, no.”

  The Warlord solidified.

  “Yes. Showtime.” Knowing her smile looked more like a snarl, Carly wished she could see her enemy’s face.

  Alrick vaulted to the ground beside her. With her Fae warrior at her side, she took a deep breath. “I’m ready.”

  “If he stays, you’ll get behind me.”

  Without taking her eyes from the flickering shape above them, she nodded.

  “I’ve never wanted to kiss you more. Then, throw you over my shoulder and run like hell.”

  Briefly, she entertained the idea, watching as the Warlord’s form took shape. With his black hood cloaking his face, only his eyes were visible, glowing with a violent intensity that spoke of madness. No trace of humanity showed there, no Fae recognition, nothing human either.

  Carly shivered. She could do this, she could. She would fight for her right to live. She’d kill if she had to, in order to protect her unborn child.

  Alrick began to speak the words of a spell.

  “Give me the woman.” The Warlord spoke, his voice a harsh sound, the voice of a man in great personal pain.

  “You can’t have me.” Voice shaking, Carly stepped forward. “So come down and fight like a man.” She lifted her sword, the white ice of the blade flashing in the sun. “Come down. Bring it on, dude.”

  The Warlord laughed, a harsh, guttural sound.

  Alrick stepped up with her, still muttering words to the spell. Neither of them dared to take their eyes off the other man.

  Raising his voice, Alrick spoke louder, rushing to complete the spell.

  The Warlord floated closer, unaffected.

  The spell Alrick used was a powerful one, ancient and deadly. The magic he called was in the air, the ground, everywhere. The earth reacted. Rumbling came from the ground deep below their feet.

  The sky filled with clouds. Lightning flashed, great jagged bolts that struck the earth like a hammer. Thunder boomed, and the wind began to shriek as the trees bowed before the coming storm.

  Hair blowing, Alrick braced his legs and raised his sword, chanting louder and louder as the magic built. Pushing Carly behind him, he slashed at the air.

  The Warlord dived left. Alrick pivoted, sword ready. Carly mimicked his motions.

  Moving so fast he was a blur, the Warlord zoomed directly at her. Screaming, she raised her sword and gave a battle cry of fury and fear. A shudder ran through her as her sword connected. First blood, she had time to think. Then Alrick, the horses, and the entire world as she knew it disappeared in a blinding burst of light.

  Thunder cracked a warning seconds before lightening struck mere feet from where Alrick stood. The resulting charge tossed him and the horses backward at the same instant as Carly struck the Warlord with her fae sword.

  The shock must have rendered him unconscious. When he was able to stand again, the Warlord and Carly had vanished.

  TM and Merry, both miraculously unhurt, grazed nearby.

  “Carly!”Alrick bellowed loud enough to be heard in both the past and the future. The Warlord had taken her –where, Alrick could only guess. Whatever magic the Warlord had used, Alrick’s spell had come too late.

  Spell. The roiling clouds were in the distance, and while lightening still flashed, the danger looked far off. Though the last remnants of magic still resonated in the hapless earth, the worst of the storm seemed to have moved on.

  Shades of Lothar; the Warlord had Carly. Alrick had failed to protect her.

  Cursing, he located his sword on the ground and sheathed it. He must find Carly, find her now, before the Warlord killed her.

  Or die trying. If he could not save her, he did not want to live.

  Gathering the horses, he spoke the words that would take them to Rune.

  When he reached the great hall, the Mage stood waiting.

  “You caused another earthquake in the human world,” the old man said. “Why are you here?”

  Impatient, Alrick told him.

  “The Warlord has Carly?” The Mage appeared unsurprised. “How did this happen?”

  Alrick pushed past. “His magic was stronger than mine. I’m going after them. You,” he stabbed the older man in the chest with his finger, “are going to send me.”

  “Alone?”

  “No. I need help. I’m getting Cenrick.”

  The mage hurried to keep up as Alrick strode down the long, marbled hall. “Your father will not want to risk both his sons.”

  “To hell with that. I refuse to let Carly die.”

  Trying another tact, the Mage plucked at Alrick’s arm. “But this is your task, your chance to prove yourself worthy to be named heir. If you enlist your brother’s help, how will you ever prove your readiness for the throne?”

  Teeth bared, Alrick rounded on the other man. “Do you honestly think I care about this now?”

  Only by putting his hands out in front of him was the Mage able to keep from crashing into Alrick. Undaunted, Mort peered up at Alrick. “Being named heir is all you’ve ever cared about.”

  “Maybe once.” Hearing the snarl in his own voice, Alrick took a deep, calming breath. “Not now. Carly is mine. Mine. Saving her is more important to me than anything else.”

  The Mage of Rune did not appear surprised. Standing in the glittering hallway, surrounded by sparkling walls and Fae beauty, he looked small and insignificant in his mysterious black robe. “More important than the throne?”

  But Alrick didn’t answer. He’d already moved away, intent on reaching his brother.

  This time, the Mage did not follow.

  At the end of the shining hall, Alrick turned right. Ten paces down on the left was Cenrick’s room. Pushing open the door, he called his brother’s name.

  A light sleeper, Cenrick sat up and ran a hand through his hair. “What’s going on?”

  “I need your help.” Anguish and worry making his voice hoarse, Alrick told his brother what had happened.

  Immediately, Cenrick grabbed his clothes. “Of course I’ll help. What do you want to do?”

  “Go after them, of course.”

  Cenrick opened his eyes very, very wide. “Into the future? Are you serious?”

  “Can you think of another plan?”

  Slowly, Cenrick shook his head. “Are you aware we might not be able to return?”

  “So be it.”

  “I see.” Clearing his throat, Cenrick looked dazed. “When?”

  “Now.” Alrick tossed his shoes at him. “Here, put these on. The Mage will help me. He has to. Let’s go.”

  Together, they started back down the hall. When they reached the great room, the Mage waited near the front door.

  “I need your assistance, Mage.” Stopping in front of him, Alrick did not ask, he ordered. “We’re going after the Warlord, to the future, to your time. I need your help to get there.”

  The Mage inclined his graying head, once. “I’ll lend a hand. But be warned. While my magic will help you get there, when you wish to return, you’re on your own.”

  “Go with us.” Cenrick stepped forward. “You know the place, the customs, and the layout. Your familiarity would aid us greatly.”

  “I cannot.”

  “You mean,” Alrick stared the other man down, “you will not.”

  “I don’t know how.” Stroking his beard, the Mage’s lined face was full of sorrow.

  Cenrick looked from one to the other. “Why do I sense undercurrents of which I know nothing?”

  Neither man answered.

  With a sigh, Cenrick shook his head. “I give up. I guess I’m just along for the ride.”

  “You have been studying.” Alrick’s tone was fierce. “If anyone can figure out how to get us back
to our own time, you can.”

  “Alrick, I have something for you.” Reaching inside the folds of his voluminous robe, the Mage pulled forth a cloth wrapped bundle. “Take this. It might come in handy.”

  Alrick accepted the gift without question.

  “Will you need horses? TM and Merry look exhausted.”

  “No.” Alrick smiled grimly. “I am done with conventional means of travel. Until Carly is safe, I mean to use magic.”

  “But the consequences…” The Mage sounded shocked.

  “He cares not for what his magic does in our time.”

  “But—.”

  Alrick sighed. “I will do as little as possible, but I must save Carly. Now tell us where you will send us. We will be in Rune, will we not?”

  Slowly, Mort shook his head. “The Warlord keeps a fortress there. But he spends a good deal of time in the human world. The human world has changed much in the future. It’s not safe for you there. Remember, the Fae are feared and killed on sight, if possible.”

  “I have my crystal sword and crossbow.”

  “And our magic.” Cenrick chimed in.

  “Magic is hampered by the machines. You’ll find it difficult to defend yourself should you be at risk around them.” The Mage sounded worried. “And to even attempt to use magic there, with the world already so unstable, could cause disaster.”

  “I’ll do what I have to do. I must save Carly.”

  Cenrick stepped up beside him to show his support.

  “Very well.” The Mage sighed. “You are right, this time. Carly is our future.”

  “She is more than the future, to me. She is my everything.”

  “Seriously?” Cenrick stared as Alrick gave a slow nod. “Will you wed her?”

  “If she will have me.”

  “First you must save her,” Mort put in. “Let me offer a word of advice. You should—.”

  “Not now.” Alrick shifted his weight from foot to foot, impatient to be off. “Maybe later.”

  Grinning, Cenrick clapped Alrick’s shoulder. “Are you ready?”

  “More than ready.” Still glaring at the Mage, Alrick crossed his arms. “Come on.” Striding forward, he used both hand to push open the heavy crystal door. “We’ll start the spell outside.”