* * * *
No matter how many times Geoffrey called her name, Sarina lay limp and unresponsive. Struggling not to show his despair, Geoffrey took a deep breath and murmured another quick prayer. Alanna’s son stood behind him, silently watching.
“May I try and--?”
“No.” Geoffrey heard fierce dejection in own his voice. He straightened his shoulders, forcing his expression to relax. “Though her sleep is deep, I think she will awaken on her own.”
Solemn-faced, Caradoc nodded. He took a small step forward, then another. When he reached Sarina’s side, he peered down at her, pensive.
Slowly he extended his hand, not touching her, merely hovering over her. Standing this way, he moved his hand from the top of her head all the way to her feet, taking little sideways steps so that he could encompass the entire length of her body. To Geoffrey it looked as though Caradoc thought he could sweep whatever ailed her away with the motions of his small hand.
Maybe he could. He was half-Fae, after all.
Feeling hope for the first time since the dragon had grabbed her, Geoffrey held his breath.
Caradoc continued his strange dance.
Still Sarina did not move.
Another moment, another motion of hands and fingers and muttered words. Geoffrey could have sworn he saw a faint glow, like the flickering of banked embers, follow the child’s hand.
“My magic will not work on her.” Caradoc shook his head, frowning. “When the bad man hurt Lady Rowena, I was able to heal her with my touch. I know not why I cannot do the same for my aunt. Mayhap whatever ails her is too deep for even my touch.”
There was a certain arrogance in the words, a sense of self much more mature than any five year old. Geoffrey measured the child, knowing his chronological age, and wondered again.
Just then, the rock shook, as though the earth herself protested.
With a cry of frustration, Caradoc planted his feel and stood his ground. Once the tremors eased, he shot Geoffrey a rueful smile.
“Each time I use the magic, Gorsedd knows.”
Geoffrey frowned. “That shuddering of the ground--”
“Is Gorsedd, making his displeasure known. His power grows daily.”
While Geoffrey didn’t entirely grasp – nor care about – the intricate nuances of this legend Alanna believed in, he know enough to understand that Gorsedd’s increasing power did not bode well for the human race.
And the hope of the Fae rested on what – this child?
“What of your power?” Geoffrey kept his expression neutral, as though the boy’s answer did not matter.
“Oh, I feel my strength more and more with each sun rise. That’s why,” he indicated Sarina, “I can’t understand why my magic won’t work on her.”
“Give it time. Perhaps she sleeps because her body needs healing.”
“I do not know if my aunt will revive.” Caradoc continued as though Geoffrey had not spoken, sorrow deepening his youthful voice.
“She will wake.” Geoffrey felt certain of it. All that remained to be seen was the when and the how. God wouldn’t have let him find her only to rip her away before he had even a chance to tell her his feelings.
Walking quietly, Caradoc slipped outside, leaving them alone.
Still, Sarina’s chest rose and fell with each breath. Her heart continued to beat steadily.
“How lovely you are, even in sleep,” Geoffrey told her, dropping to his knees alongside her inert form. He reached out, his hand trembling, and stroked the silk of her dark hair. “But then you know are always beautiful to me.”
No response. His heart ached. How Sarina would have loved to hear such words from him. Well he could picture her amused reaction to his heartfelt compliments – the way she’d toss her long hair over her shoulder, how wonderful her deep laugh would sound, coming up from her belly to her full lips. Always she was so full of life, elemental and joyful and coyly mysterious all at the same time.
Sarina.
How he loved this woman.
Loved? Shocked, Geoffrey rocked back on his heels. Loved? The thought shook the core of him.
Loved.
He grew calm, studying her, watching the shallow rise and fall of her chest, the translucent purity of her creamy skin, and he knew this thing, this wondrous emotion, was true.
Love.
He loved Sarina. He didn’t want to think about what his life would be like without her. Life? Nay, a world without Sarina in it would be only a pale imitation of the vibrant place it could be.
Leaning close, he inhaled her fragrance. The feminine musk had always seemed exotic to him – sensual and real, as the woman herself.
“Sarina.” Placing a gentle kiss on her unresponsive lips, he let his breath mingle with hers. “You are my life and my love. Please wake for me. Please.”
Nothing.
He sat back, deeply disappointed. Had he really been so naive as to think it would be that simple? That a kiss from her one true love – assuming she felt the same as he – would be magic enough to wake her?
Nothing in life had ever come easily to him. Why should things be different now?
“My mother comes.” Caradoc’s voice, high-pitched and yet certain, came from the doorway.
Geoffrey rose, unembarrassed at the possibility that Caradoc had heard him. He accepted the child’s words as truth. “Alanna comes? What of Darrick?”
The boy cocked his shaggy head, his expression far away. The slant of his cheekbones, the deep cleft of his chin seemed oddly familiar. With a start Geoffrey realized Caradoc had parts of Darrick’s face, his features. Perhaps it was true and Caradoc was his son rather than Morfran’s. He looked much as Darrick had when they were small children together.
Caradoc wrinkled his freckled nose. “My mother travels with many.”
“Aye.”
“They cross the sea.” A look of satisfaction crossed the boy’s expression. “The storm has gone away and the waves have calmed. I hope it stays that way. Oh, I hope Gorsedd does not find out about their passage.”
Geoffrey reached for the hilt of his sword, finding reassurance in the smooth metal feel of it. “Where might I find this Gorsedd?” he asked. “He and I have something to settle.”
* * * *
As badly as Darrick wanted to find Geoffrey and Sarina, as well as Caradoc and his mother, he knew they might have to face Gorsedd first. His only hope was that Morfran had already joined him, so Darrick could deal with both his enemies at the same time.
If he were so lucky.
Dark would be upon them soon. In this unfamiliar territory, they would need to stop for the night soon.
The faint scent of flowers reached him. Alanna. Turning, he saw she had come up beside him, her lovely face thoughtful. She still carried Ellette. As usual, the little girl clung to Alanna.
Reaching out, he took the unresisting child from her. Ellette continued sucking her thumb with her eyes closed.
Alanna tilted her head, her expression bemused.
“You looked like you needed to rest,” he said in explanation.
“Oh.” Stretching, she rolled her shoulders, drawing his gaze to her slender shape. “Thank you.”
He shifted Ellette to get her more comfortable. He didn’t like the way the little girl had become totally unresponsive ever since the dragon’s attack. Though Alanna seemed to feel Ellette would be fine, he wondered.
“What now?” Wrapping her arms around her middle, Alanna hugged herself. “We’re here. This island can’t be that big. How can we find Caradoc? I need to see my son.”
Her son. His son too, possibly. He wanted to ask about him, wanted to learn more about the boy before he found himself face to face with him. But the setting sun lit Alanna’s upturned face, illuminated her hair. Her beauty took his breath away, so the words remained unsaid.
Instead, he watched her as he rocked Ellette, unable to keep from wondering if Caradoc would fit so well in his arms.
Car
adoc. His son and Alanna’s. He could scarcely credit such a thing.
“Darrick?” Alanna’s concerned voice broke through his reverie. “Are you all right?”
Chest tight, he nodded.
“I asked how long?”
He stared at her blankly.
“How long until we find him?”
“I don’t know.” Studying the hazy horizon, he sighed. “We will need to make camp for the night.”
“Make camp? No. Not now, when we are so close.”
“Alanna, look around this place. There are rocks and hill and cliff. This is unfamiliar territory. We cannot go exploring around in the darkness.”
“At first light then?”
“Aye.”
“Then `tis a matter of finding him, is it not?”
Would that it were so simple.
“There is much to deal with here.” That was as diplomatic as he could make it. “I know not which will come first.”
“Deal with?” Twin spots of color showed high on her cheeks. “We must rescue Caradoc. And your mother. And find Sarina and Geoffrey. And--”
“Yes, we must. But do not forget what Gorsedd wants to do. We must stop him. I don’t know which will come first.”
She bit her lip. “You’re right. We do have more to accomplish here than simply finding my son.” As though she suddenly realized how much her posture revealed about her state of mind, she held out her arms with a shy smile. “May I have Ellette back? Empty arms are more than I can bear right now.”
Without a word, he handed the child back. Watching Alanna cuddle the little girl, something seemed to click inside him. Darrick felt as if pieces of some cosmic puzzle slowly fell into place. The problem was, he didn’t know what part they played. He decided to go with his instinct.
“This legend. If indeed what’s happening is the legend playing out, Caradoc and Ellette are part of it. A great part, as are you and I.”
“Aye.” With a sigh, she shifted Ellette to her hip. “If the legend is to be believed, we have old scores to settle. Old and now new.”
“Tell me again the words of the legend.”
She closed her eyes and recited. “When all that’s bright and shining has dulled and faded, pairs of pairs must join and bind. For when ancient evil from below rises, a soul torn asunder must be made whole. Poet and nobility, of both worlds and of neither, only then can such power be restored.”
“How many pairs?”
Her eyes opened, the brilliant green color as startling as ever. “No one knows.”
“We have three.”
“Three?”
“You and I. Geoffrey and Sarina. And,” he indicated the child in her arms, “Ellette and Caradoc.”
“If the legend is to be believed, yes. Except when know not what they – and we – must do.”
Though the little girl raised her head at Caradoc’s name, she let it fall back to Alanna’s shoulder a moment later.
“You have no idea?”
Alanna shook her head, her expression full of sorrow. Darrick longed to kiss the sadness away.
“What the hell.” He spoke his thoughts out loud. “If these are to be my last days on earth, I might as well make them happy.”
“Last days on earth?” Alanna got out, before he reached up and plucked Ellette from her arms, setting the child on the ground. As Alanna opened her mouth to protest, Darrick pulled her close and covered her lips with his own.
Everything else faded, including the silent child who watched them with too-wise eyes. All of his world, all of his life, was centered on this woman, the one who’d long ago claimed they were each halves of the other’s soul.
They kissed, their bodies murmuring endearments that their mouths could not voice. He tasted her, she sampled him, and the dance of their tongues felt familiar and right.
When at last he lifted his head, breathless and aching, he gave her his best, fiercest smile.
“You are mine, Alanna of Rune.”
She held his gaze, then slowly nodded. “And you, mine.”
Ellette toddled over, her small face strangely serene. She held out her arms to Alanna, her unspoken need easily met.
With a small laugh, Alanna scooped her up, placing a quick kiss on the little girl’s soft cheek.
Watching them and aching, Darrick realized Ellette too would be his new family, part of the family he was meant to have. But only part, for his son still waited. Caradoc… and the as yet unnamed children he and Alanna would someday have.
Someday… they would walk into the future together.
Satisfied for now, he let his smile widen. “And Alanna, this time I won’t let you go so easily.”
Though she ducked her head and turned away, he saw from the quick flush of color on her cheeks that his declaration had pleased her. Good. He planned to please her with more than words this eve.
Exhaling, he turned to the others. The rest of his men watched, expressionless and waiting for his orders. “We’ll make camp here. Rest well. We ride out at first light.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Once the tents were set up, the men talked little as they passed around the dried meat and hard bread. After they ate the evening meal and retired, Darrick left two men on watch and went to his tent to wait. He knew what he had to do, what he wanted to do, what he’d longed to do ever since that night when she’d made sweet love to him.
If Alanna did not come to him this night, he would go to her.
The sound of soft footfalls had him raise his head. His heartbeat doubled as Alanna pushed aside the tent flap and stepped inside. Seeing him waiting on his pile of blankets and furs, she crossed the small distance quickly and dropped down beside him.
“Tomorrow it will all be over,” she said by way of greeting.
Unable to help himself, he reached out and traced the line of her cheek. “Aye. If all goes well, we shall rescue my mother and you shall have your son one more.”
Though she shivered, her gaze remained steady. “Your son as well. Finally you will meet him.”
“I look forward to that.” Though distracted by the way she caught her lower lip in her teeth, he meant his words. But now, now he could only think of her body, and how he needed to join with her.
Before she’d been the one to take the initiative. That had been necessary and right, considering what she’d been through at Morfran’s hands.
Now though, Darrick believed she was healed. Though once again, she’d taken the first step in coming to his tent, this time he wanted to show her how much he needed her.
As if she couldn’t tell from his fully aroused body.
“Darrick, I--”
“Shh.” Leaning over, he breathed a gentle kiss against her mouth. She sighed, accepting the kiss. He could feel her body’s warmth without touching her, just as he could see the small tremors that shook her.
He lifted his head, drinking in the sight of her with his gaze.
“Alanna, I--”
“I want you,” she said, her voice low and husky. Then he knew she trembled not from fear, but from desire.
For a moment he forgot to breath. The force of the craving that clawed through him nearly undid him. `Twas all he could do to keep from growling low in his throat and possessing her, hard and fast, then and there.
“And I you.” He gave her a smile full of promise. “I will prove it to you, though this night I intend to take my time and savor our lovemaking.”
No shadows of the past or hesitation were in her eyes as she watched him. Only the rapid rise and fall of her chest betrayed her inner agitation.
She gave a deliberate nod.
Though he felt as though he might explode, he kept his touch gentle. Like a gourmet sampling a feast, he started slow, beginning with nibbling tastes of her soft skin. Her neck, the delicate lobes of her ears, these he tasted. She shivered, her very stillness a silent invitation.
He let his hands roam her silky skin, sweeping the curve of her hip, barely grazing the jun
cture of her thighs. Her breasts – these too he merely stroked, though she arched her back and thrust her rosy nipples for him to taste.
So sample he did. First one, then the other, eliciting from her throat a moan of pure need.
His own body throbbed in reply. Though he lay half-across her, he deliberated pressed his engorged manhood only into the blanket rather than her skin. He wanted to love her leisurely and, so urgent was the state of his arousal now, were he to push himself inside of her, he knew he’d lose control.
Still she touched him not, her hands clenched and fisted at her sides. On these too he lavished attention, uncurling her slender fingers and suckling them one at a time, drawing the in and out of his mouth.
She moaned again, parting her thighs. Her womanhood glistened in invitation. His body, already harder than he’d ever believed possible, pulsed as he stroked her dampness.
With soft pants, she moved, trying to urge him into her. He pushed himself away, his manhood throbbing, and placed his face at the juncture of her thighs.
Then he kissed her there, using his mouth and his tongue. She reared up from the blankets, her eyes wide and startled. He shook his head, mouth still against her, and felt her tremble at the sensation.
When he tasted her, she tossed her head as her arousal built. When her release came, the beauty of it nearly undid him. Still he waited until her quaking ceased before he moved to lay alongside her, watching her face, her expression of bewildered wonder, before her eyes drifted slowly closed.
Fully aroused, as hard as he’d ever been, Darrick watched her, aching. And waited.
She opened her eyes, her pupils huge. She looked at him, her gaze hot. “I still want you.” And to prove it, she closed her hand around him. With a gentle squeeze, she began to stroke him.
As though from a distance he heard a groan, his own. “Stop,” he choked out, about to come undone in her hand.
With a look of bewilderment, she did as he asked, though she kept her hand around his heated flesh.
“I want you inside of me,” she told him.
He needed no second urging. Pressing against her, he tried to hold back, to remember to take it easy, to go slow.
But she was more than ready, more than wet, and her silky hot warmth proved his undoing.
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