Spellbinder

by Thea Harrison

  Relief coursed through her. Without glancing back, she gave a slight nod and smoothly brought the song to an end. While she played the final notes, she looked around at the images from the harmonics. As if the magic understood it was the end, a gossamer, panoramic sunset over the ocean filled the hall, the colors deepening into night.

  After she finished, a smattering of polite applause sounded throughout the great hall.

  It sounded anemic, almost begrudging, nothing like the normal wild enthusiasm of her concerts.

  Blinking, she tried to absorb the feedback. What had she done wrong?

  Sure, she had played pop songs, but nobody here would have known what those songs were… and she had played them as well as she possibly could. That, together with Morgan’s spell, should have made things okay, and the magical imagery had been great. Had she misjudged her audience that badly?

  The last of the adrenaline from the battle spell left and the crash hit. The shaking started deep inside, and with an effort, she stiffened her legs to remain standing.

  Kallah pulled back the curtain and beckoned her with a bright smile. “Her majesty would like to speak with you now.”

  “Of course,” she said. Dread dragged at her feet. As she followed Kallah down a narrow flight of stairs, she asked tightly, “How bad is it?”

  “What do you mean?” Kallah looked over her shoulder. Whatever she saw in Sid’s expression made her stop and turn completely around, looking up as Sid hovered on a step above her. Gently, Kallah told her, “You were utterly, shockingly wonderful. I can’t remember when I last heard music as sublime as yours. Some of the songs brought tears to my eyes, and I’ve never seen the harmonics respond to a musician as they did to you. Everybody loved it—the queen loved it. Your life has gone through a profound change, Sid. You have become quite the sensation here, now.”

  Her shaking worsened, and she had to wipe her eyes before she could speak again. Thickly, she muttered, “There was so little applause I thought it hadn’t gone well.”

  Kallah touched her hand in a quick, impulsive gesture. “You couldn’t be further from the truth. It’s considered bad manners to overwhelm the hall with unseemly signs of enthusiasm. The real show of appreciation is waiting for you down below. Your performer’s hat is overflowing.… I can’t remember when I’ve seen a hat so full.”

  “I have no idea what that means.” Sid would just be glad if she didn’t get her fingers broken again.

  Kallah gave her another smile. Her demeanor toward Sid seemed to have warmed significantly, as if she had been waiting for her to prove herself. “Come and see. I think you’ll be very pleased.”

  Only then did Sid remember she could try to telepathize with Morgan. She hadn’t used the telepathy earrings enough for them to become commonplace. Reaching for him mentally, she asked, Are you there?

  Immediately, Morgan’s rich, warm voice filled her mind, and it was such a balm to her abraded nerves she had to grasp at the banister to keep her knees from buckling. I am. You did beautifully, Sidonie. Now, hang on. You’re almost there. You’ve got a bit more you need to get through, and then you can rest.

  Her breathing roughened, and her eyes prickled, but she was not about to face that walking, talking piranha with tears in her eyes. Pushing the emotion aside, she squared her shoulders and followed Kallah to a room that was much smaller than the great hall, more intimate, with plush, comfortable furnishings arranged into a sitting area.

  Isabeau lounged on one couch, her feet tucked under her. Two men kept her company. One was Modred, who stood leaning against one corner of a fireplace, and the other was a Light Fae male Sid had never met before, who sat in a nearby chair.

  The unknown male was speaking. “Quite a stunning performance, especially given her inferior breeding.”

  “Indeed,” Modred said.

  Sid’s gaze skidded over Modred. She could not look at him without remembering the smile he had given her down in that ugly, pain-filled room when he took away her reason for living.

  But instead of squandering her fast-waning energy obsessing over past events, she turned her attention to the only person of relevance in the room.

  When Isabeau saw her, she set aside her wine goblet, rose, and walked toward Sid with both hands outstretched. Sid drew back in instinctive alarm, but then she saw Isabeau’s warm smile.

  When she gets what she wants, she’s all warm, pretty smiles…

  “Musician! What is your name, again? Sid? Tonight was lovely, simply lovely. I had no idea you would bring such sublime music and beauty into my life!” Isabeau grasped her hands, gaze wide with delight. “Where did you get such an amazing gift? That one song especially shot such arrows into my heart!”

  I wish I could shoot arrows at you with my music, Sid thought. Now, that would be a skill worth developing.

  Aloud, she murmured vaguely, “Where does anyone get their talent for things?”

  Isabeau squeezed her fingers. Her touch made Sid’s skin crawl. “Exactly!” Isabeau exclaimed as she turned to face the two men. “Talents are given by the gods. Who knows where they might land, or for what reason? Heaven can be housed even in a vessel such as she.”

  Suddenly Sid struggled with an entirely inappropriate desire to laugh. She thought, Just when I think I’m all out of fuck yous, somehow, I manage to find inspiration for yet another one.

  I might be done playing music, but my performance isn’t over yet.

  Rallying, she returned the Queen’s squeeze. “Your majesty, I can’t begin to tell you how much it means to me that you enjoyed tonight’s music.”

  “Why, you’re trembling!” Isabeau exclaimed. “I hear performing can take some musicians that way. It is the artist’s temperament. Do have some wine… you have earned it, my dear.”

  “No, thank you. It’s good of you to offer, but if I drink wine right now I will fall over.” The fixed stare from the unknown Light Fae male was beginning to grate on her, and Modred’s relaxed presence compounded the feeling.

  What could she do to make this nightmare end? She swayed, and caught herself up.

  She had forgotten Kallah, who murmured in a tactful voice from behind her, “Your majesty, perhaps it would be a good idea to keep this visit short. Sid wanted to honor you, and she has been working night and day to prepare for this evening. Not only that, but she went through several challenging days before then.”

  Isabeau’s expression cooled at the oblique reference to Sid’s time in prison, but she adjusted smoothly enough.

  In a brisker tone, she replied, “Kallah is quite right. It must have been exhausting today, preparing to perform in front of the entire court. Well, musician, you pleased me tonight. You pleased me very much, and I look forward to hearing more of your beautiful music. Your performer’s hat is over here, on the table. I wanted to give it to you personally.”

  Sid looked where Isabeau pointed, and her eyes widened. On a side table, a velvet hat sat. It was overflowing with flowers, coins, jewelry, and bright scraps of silk. “Are you saying that’s mine?”

  The queen laughed. “But of course! My court loved you, and this is how they show it. You may also ask one thing of me as well. Choose carefully. A boon from me is no small thing.”

  Sid drew in a breath as she tried to cope with the unexpected largesse.

  As she hesitated, Isabeau watched her closely. She added, “And before you think to ask for it, no, you may not have your freedom.” She softened the statement with a quick, pretty smile. “I could never bear to give up such a treasure, now that I have found you.”

  “But you can give me the freedom of the town and the surrounding land, can’t you?” Sid asked. “Fresh air and new sights are good muses. After all, it’s not as though I can escape from Avalon, anyway.”

  An expression of comfortable contempt slid over Isabeau’s face. “No,” the queen agreed. “It’s not as though you can. Very well, you have earned it. You may have the freedom of the castle, the town, and the surrounding
land, up to two hours’ walk away. But, come—that was too easy. Lengthening your leash was nothing. You must ask a boon for something worthwhile, otherwise I might feel insulted.”

  Only Isabeau could make a gift sound like a threat. Sid was suddenly so exhausted, she could barely see straight. All she wanted to do was sleep, while this psycho tyrant prattled on about her boon like it was some kind of real goddamn gift.

  How long would she have to live like this? The realization that she might spend years trapped in Avalon caused her to clench her hands. How could she survive here for so long?

  “I want you to get me a violin, and a guitar,” she said suddenly. “As beautiful as a lute is, it isn’t my instrument of choice.”

  Isabeau’s expression went blank with surprise. “Not your instrument of choice?”

  “I play the violin much better,” Sid told her. “The guitar too.”

  Isabeau’s lips parted. She breathed, “Better than how you played this evening?” Turning to Kallah, she ordered, “We must get these instruments at once! Make sure they are of the finest quality!”

  “Of course,” Kallah murmured. “I will see to it first thing in the morning.”

  “I also want a week to myself,” Sid said roughly. “I want to sleep when I feel like it, eat whatever I want, and feel sunshine on my face.”

  And during all that time, she thought mentally, I don’t want to worry if I’m going to be killed or tortured, or feel like I need to brace myself to face some fresh hell. I want a week off, and I want all of you to leave me the fuck alone.

  The light in Isabeau’s expression soured again, and she tilted her mouth as if she had tasted something she didn’t like. Tapping her foot, she considered Sid.

  “To go an entire week without your sublime music is too much to ask,” the Queen said finally. “But I will give you this much. For one hour each day, you will play for me at a time of my choosing. I will not command you to perform in public. The hour will be for my own private enjoyment. Other than that hour each day, you may have the rest of the week to yourself.”

  Behind her, Kallah touched Sid’s back quickly.

  Taking the silent prompt, Sid bowed to Isabeau. “Thank you, your majesty. I’m most grateful for the respite.”

  Isabeau waved a hand at her. “Now, go before you fall over and I need to order someone to carry you out. You’ve turned such a pasty white, it really is quite alarming.”

  As she spoke, the unknown Light Fae male walked over to the performance hat. Working a ring off one of his fingers, he dropped it into the hat. Then he scooped it up and carried it to Sid, who gathered it into her arms. She hadn’t expected it to be as heavy as it was.

  “Here is your very well-earned reward, musician,” he said as he gave her a look that seemed filled with some kind of significance. “I look forward to enjoying more of your talents soon. Isabeau, you must invite me for some of those private sessions.”

  “We’ll see, Valentin.” Isabeau gave the man a blade-sharp look underneath a pretty, catlike smile. “I can get very jealous of my pleasures, and I don’t like to share.”

  Suddenly desperate to leave, Sid had to keep herself from running for the door. As she turned away, the look she gave to Kallah must have shown her desperation, for Kallah put a hand at her back and urged her out quickly.

  As Kallah walked her back to the servants’ quarters, Sid struggled with absorbing her change in fortune. “So I can leave the castle now,” she said hoarsely. “I can simply walk out whenever I wish?”

  “As soon as I pass the Queen’s instructions to the castle guards, yes, you may,” Kallah replied. “I will do so this evening after I say good night. Just make sure you leave word of where you are going, so the guard knows how to find you. But it will take some days for us to acquire a violin and a guitar.”

  “That makes sense.” Outside her room, she turned to face Kallah. “I’ll get the dress back to you clean.”

  Kallah smiled. “No need. It is yours now. You can use it for future performances. Rest well, Sid. You earned it.”

  As Kallah walked away, Sid fumbled at the knob to open her door. Once inside, she shoved it shut with one foot and set the hat and its contents on the bed. As she picked up the tinderbox, her candle flared to light.

  Her heart leaped with gladness, and she whirled with an eager smile.

  The black cat lay curled at one end of her bed. It gave a great yawn, showing sharp, white teeth, green eyes gleaming.

  Disappointment dragged at her tired limbs. She had wanted it so very much to be Morgan.

  She said flatly, “You.”

  Yes, Robin said telepathically. Me.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “I don’t know what you want, but you’re going to have to get out,” Sid told the puck. “I’m not staying.”

  Speak telepathically, Robin warned. The ears in this place are very sharp.

  Sid struggled with the unfamiliar fastenings of the dress and shimmied out of it. Then she grabbed her tunic and trousers.

  As she changed, she said, Isabeau gave me a longer leash. I can go up to two hours’ walk away from the castle, and I don’t care how tired I am right now—I’m not going to spend one more night here. If I have to, I’ll sleep outside on the bare ground or in an alley.

  That is most excellent news, but there’s no need to put yourself in such discomfort, Robin said. Go into town to one of the inns. The Seafarer’s Rose is not a ten-minute walk from here. They have good food, fresh linens, and you have plenty of money.

  As if to emphasize his point, the cat batted lazily at the performance hat.

  She hesitated, torn. The inn sounded wonderful, but the thought of trying to figure out where it was in her exhausted state sounded daunting. Is it easy to find?

  Not only is it easy to find, but the cat will keep you company on your walk, Robin assured her. As long as you are able to put one foot in front of the other, we will get there easily.

  Then we’d better get going, because I don’t know how much longer I can stay upright. Laying out her two dresses and her outfit from Earth, she set the performance hat in the middle and rolled the clothes around it. Tucking the bundle under one arm, she blew out the candle and walked out. I don’t even know how to get out of here.

  I will tell you. The cat trotted at her heels, tail up.

  She followed the puck’s telepathic directions, plowing forward through sheer determination. She shouldn’t feel so disappointed Morgan wasn’t waiting in her room. It was unrealistic to have hoped for him anyway. The castle hadn’t settled for the night, the witchlights glowed everywhere, and many people still wandered the halls.

  Several smiled at her and called out congratulations, and one or two made as if to approach her, but she nodded to them with a set smile and kept moving.

  Mindful of Kallah’s instruction, she left word with the guard that she would be staying at the inn. The exhilaration of stepping out of the castle and into the open air lent fuel to her steps. The route to the inn was filled with cobblestone streets and spacious buildings with arched doorways. In the distance, light spilled out of a street that intersected theirs.

  She asked, What is that light from?

  The night market is still open, Robin told her. It is not midnight, yet. The inn is at the end of the street. Ask for their best room. It has a balcony with a view of the sea. I leave you here.

  As much as she still resented and hated what he had done to her, his presence had oddly become something of a comfort. Frowning, she looked around for the cat, but he was already gone.

  She had meant to ask him to let Morgan know where she had gone. Feeling alone, cranky, and unreasonably abandoned, she made her way down the street to the large inn. Pushing her way inside, she discovered the taproom was busy and full of heat and noise. The smells of food, beer, and woodsmoke washed over her.

  Most of the patrons were Light Fae, but there were a few monstrous creatures she couldn’t identify, along with slender, ethereal crea
tures with pointed chins, and possibly some humans, although she wasn’t sure about that. Several turned to look at her as she paused, then her gaze went unfocused and the crowd disappeared in a blur.

  One Light Fae woman stood out. As she hurried toward Sid, she wiped her hands on a cloth. Beaming, she said, “Welcome, musician! I’m Leisha, one of the owners. We’re honored to have you here. What can I do for you?”

  “I would like your best room,” Sid said. “The one with the sea view and the balcony. Is it available?”

  “It is, indeed, and it is yours now.”

  The innkeeper led the way upstairs. The room was spacious and well-appointed, with a bathing alcove behind a carved screen. As Sid set her bundle down on the large bed, Leisha lit the stacked logs in the fireplace and went to balcony doors to throw them open wide. Picking through the unfamiliar coins in her hat, Sid paid her for a week and ordered a breakfast tray for the morning.

  By the time the innkeeper took her leave, the heat from the fireplace had begun to spread throughout the room, mingling with the freshness of the sea air. Closing her eyes and breathing deeply, Sid came to a dead stop. She didn’t think she could say one more word to anyone, not even to save her life.

  Staggering to the bed, she pulled off her clothes and crawled underneath the covers, and she fell deeply asleep the moment her head hit one of the soft, clean-scented pillows.

  “Sidonie.”

  Someone cupped her bare shoulder and stroked the short hair back from her forehead.

  She was tired, so tired, but she fought to surface out of her deep sleep because she knew that whisper.

  She knew those hands. She would know them anywhere.

  Dragging heavy eyelids open, she tried to focus on the large, powerful figure bending over her. The fire still crackled in the fireplace, and it was dark outside. She couldn’t have been asleep that long.

  Looking up into Morgan’s shadowed face, she raised her arms. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he gathered her up, and she buried her face in his neck. Huskily, she whispered against his skin, “How did you get in here?”