Legend of the Sorcerer

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Legend of the Sorcerer Page 10

by Donna Kauffman


  As he neared the steps leading up to the garden, he heard Alfred expounding on Merlin’s merits as a great magician. It mattered not that his audience was made of stone. Cai found Alfred, cane lifted high like a staff, orating with clear, elegant prose to a group of marble fairies.

  Cai’s love for the old man ached in his chest and burned behind his eyes. He owed him everything. Everything.

  Alfred wasn’t a burden, he was a gift.

  To remind himself of that fact, Cai quietly took a seat on the nearest bench, to listen, and to learn.

  “If things were different,” Jordy tapped fish food into the bowl, “I’d move to Crystal Key in a heartbeat.”

  Fred swished around, catching the falling flakes in an awkward sideways grab.

  “I know. I’m supposed to be in Warburg right now, getting on with my life.” She’d called her landlady earlier that day and asked her to water her plants for another week. She smiled, thinking of her. Mrs. Isaak was a sharp-tongued woman who didn’t hesitate to share her opinions on anything, frequently and without provocation. For whatever reason, probably because it went against public opinion, she’d taken a shine to Jordy. She gave her a good deal on the rent and, in return, Jordy patiently listened to her daily rants without interruption. Mrs. Isaak had offered to bag up her mail and send it to her. Of course, she’d added in her raspy voice, the postage would be added to next month’s rent. Jordy had thanked her for her consideration.

  The Mangrove Hotel manager, grateful for her help with the camp, had given her a break on the room for a week, but it still put a serious dent in what she laughingly called her budget.

  There was still a lot of work to be done on the preliminary sketches for Alfred’s dragon. She smiled as the warm thrill raced over her again. He’d approved of what she’d done so far and his sincere enthusiasm had her actually believing she could pull this off.

  Alfred had been certain, so much so that he’d offered to pay her a small advance up front. She’d refused, but, in typical Alfred fashion, he didn’t give her much chance to argue. And, truth be told, the money was a godsend. The check from the publisher wouldn’t be coming right away.

  She tried to view it as motivation and not be intimidated by the deadline she now had. And Alfred wanted more when she finished this. She kept that promise locked away in her heart, but there was no denying that the small seed of hope had been planted.

  In the meantime, she focused on details. She’d have to find someone to fire her pieces until she had a place for the kiln she had in storage. Next she’d convert her tiny living room into a makeshift workshop. She tried not to think of Mrs. Isaak’s reaction to the dropcloths and wrapped bundles of clay, not to mention the tools that would likely litter the tables, sinks, and every other available surface in the place.

  It was all coming back to her. She could do this. With Alfred’s encouragement, she’d find her way. This time, she wasn’t alone. The feeling of security he gave her should have been alarming, relying as she was on someone else. But it was different this time. It was teamwork of the best kind. And it was real.

  The sketches were only a start. There was still the clay to face: sinking her fingers into it, smoothing her fingertips along the cool, damp surface, finding the curves, discovering the angles, letting the creature out.

  Jordy stood at the balcony door and thought of the potting shed, that perfect little cottage set on the edge of wonderland. A wonderland created by a delightfully eccentric old man and watched over by an equally enigmatic younger one. It caught at her heart and made her pulse race. But her destiny didn’t lie down that path.

  She turned away and picked up her sketch pad.

  She had work to do.

  Thousands of miles away, on the windswept moors that ran along a Welsh river, a scream went unheard as another victim was taken.

  SIXTEEN

  “Alfred, you really shouldn’t have done all this.” Jordy gaped at the amazing transformation he’d wrought to the potting shed in only three days.

  He’d had the roof freshly shingled. The graying stone walls, previously covered in island vegetation, had been scraped clean and repainted a pale shell pink. The splintered, rotting window frames had all been replaced, and the glass panes were shining. He’d even started a small garden plot alongside the small stoop. The stone walkway, once thick with weeds and uneven stones, had been cleared and reset. As a finishing touch, a woven doormat had been laid on the stoop.

  “Nonsense,” he said, beaming with pride. “It had to be done.”

  She turned to him, trying to keep the shine of excitement from her eyes. She’d made a promise to herself. She had plans. “It’s wonderful, but I told you, I can’t come to work here. I’m going home in a week.” She talked over Alfred’s response, rushing the words so she could pretend this wasn’t killing her. “I’ve been working on your dragon and I think I have the concept finalized. I don’t want to do much detailing, since I prefer to let that emerge as I create. I’ve worked out a schedule and even a tentative delivery date. It will be better for me if I have a deadline to work toward. We’ll have to decide on shipping and such, but seeing as you get most of your pieces shipped from Wales, I’m sure we can come to a suitable arrangement to get the dragon here from Virginia.”

  Alfred listened patiently, then spoke as if he hadn’t heard a word. “You should be able to move your things in by week’s end. I’m having the interior worked on, putting in a small bathroom and running a stronger electrical line. I wanted you to look at this today before they start so you can give me your input on the lighting.” He moved to the door. It too had been refinished. “Naturally, you’ll stay in the house, but Dilys can show you your room when we’re done here. Perhaps later, after tea.”

  Jordy saw that he was leaning more heavily on his cane than usual. She wanted to believe he was just playing on her sympathy. But as she watched him work the knob on the door with difficulty, she frowned. She rarely thought of Alfred as being frail, but today it was hard to ignore the obvious signs. “Here,” she said, stepping forward and gently moving his hand aside. The knob turned easily. She didn’t say anything, but casually took his arm as they stepped over the raised entry board.

  That he allowed her to take some of his weight as they crossed to the middle of the room alarmed her further. Once he had his cane carefully positioned on the uneven flooring, he let go. As he described his plans, she studied him. He seemed a bit pale, but he had on a wide-brimmed straw hat today, so it was hard to say for certain in the dim natural lighting.

  “We’ll put a narrow table alongside that wall, and cupboards over there for your supplies. You’ll have to give me the specifics of your needs in regards to worktables and the like. The bathroom will be in that corner there, with a utility sink on the opposing wall of the bathroom sink.” He turned to her with a twinkling eyes. “What think you, my dear?”

  Only because she’d spent a great deal of time when he wasn’t aware, studying him, assessing his features, for later study with ink and paper, did she see the slight pinched lines at the corners of his eyes.

  But worse than that, far worse … she saw hope.

  Feeling more torn than she could ever remember, she went on instinct. She walked up to him and kissed his cheek, then laid her hand over his and looked him straight in the eye.

  “It’s beautiful, Alfred. It’s like something from a fairy tale, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to work here.”

  “But?” His expression was one of infinite wisdom … and regret.

  “I have to go home,” she said gently. “I have to start rebuilding my life. You’ve given me an immense gift by bringing me here even for such a short time.”

  “Build on your dream here.” He covered her hand with his. “You get very few chances to realize a dream in this life, Jordalyn. Don’t be hasty in throwing this one away.”

  “Alfred—”

  “I didn’t make this offer lightly. Don’t regard it only with logic
. Logic can cloud the heart. Instinct is a powerful guide most never learn to follow.” Alfred’s gaze shifted past her shoulder. “Come now, Malacai, let us not add skulking to the list your lamentable character traits of late.”

  Jordy turned in time to see Cai fill the small doorway.

  He looked to Alfred. “Would you excuse us for a moment?”

  To Jordy, Alfred said, “Instinct, my dear. It guides the heart, which in turn can teach the mind.”

  Jordy nodded, then turned and stepped past Cai. They walked to the garden. “Was that really necessary? I told you I’d handle it.”

  “I know Alfred,” was all he said.

  Since Alfred had been doing a pretty fine job of destroying her defenses, she had to bite down on her retort. “Why did you want to see me?”

  She hadn’t seen Cai at all on her last two trips to Crystal Key. He looked tired. Instead of the frustration and sexual tension that always seemed to simmer just beneath the surface whenever they were together, she saw weariness. He looked almost … haunted.

  “Are you okay?” She stepped closer. “You look terrible.” His dry smile was fleeting. He was clearly torn about something and she had a pretty good idea as to what it was.

  “You’re right, you know,” she said. “Alfred does make a very convincing argument, but I’ve made some plans of my own. They don’t include staying here. You can take that off your list of things to worry about.”

  “That’s just it. I don’t want you to turn him down.” She gaped. “What? What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying I changed my mind. I want you to take Alfred’s offer.” He held up his hand to forestall her response. “Hear me out. I’ve given this a lot of thought. I know we agreed to go our separate ways, and that it was best for both of us not to get involved.”

  “And now you’re saying … what exactly?”

  “I want you to stay, for Alfred.”

  “I thought it was precisely because of Alfred that you didn’t want me around.”

  “You told me to look past my own problems, to do what was best for him. Maybe I wanted you gone because it would be easier for me, but maybe what’s easier isn’t what’s best.” He stepped closer. “You do want to stay, don’t you? I know you care about him.”

  “I do care for him, a great deal.” She was suddenly concerned. “Is there something wrong with him? Is he ill?” She remembered the pinched lines around his eyes, the slowness in his step. “Is that why?”

  “He has been more easily fatigued lately, but it’s not only that. Maybe I was being selfish in trying to prevent him from having a meaningful relationship because I thought it would hurt him too badly in the end.” Cai moved even closer and looked down into her eyes. “He’s grown very fond of you. When you’re here with him, he … I don’t know, he seems more like his old self.”

  “I don’t want to hurt him either, but just because I’m going home doesn’t mean I don’t plan on keeping in touch.”

  “My thought exactly. It wouldn’t have to end completely when you leave. And I know you want to work here. Maybe I was being selfish there, too. I do understand about needing to be where you can work. You could finish the pieces Alfred wants and maybe begin others you could ship back to Virginia as a portfolio, or whatever you call it. Something to start on.”

  It was too much, to be handed a dream twice.

  Instinct, my dear. It guides the heart, which in turn can teach the mind. She swallowed hard. “Just how long are we talking about?”

  Cai’s relieved grin elicited a dangerous jump in her pulse rate. He might have come to terms with being around her, but she was quite certain she hadn’t.

  “How long do you want?”

  “I … I don’t know about this,” she hedged. “Maybe this isn’t such a good idea. We agreed to stay out of each other’s hair. How can we do that if I’m living here?”

  Cai closed the rest of the distance between them. “I’ve given that some thought, too.”

  She put her hands up and backed away. “You said we were doing this for Alfred.”

  He covered her hands with his and pulled them up to his shoulders. “We are. And with everything we have going on, it would be logical for us not to confuse things further with this.” He let his mouth drop to hers and took her in a blood-stirring kiss. She was breathless when he lifted his head. “But maybe I’m letting logic cloud my instincts there, too.”

  Jordy’s head was spinning. It was too much, too fast.

  “But what about Alfred? What will he think about us … getting involved?”

  The hands that had begun to slide down her back stilled. “I think he’d understand.”

  “And when I leave? What then? I do plan to keep in touch, but I don’t want to hurt him by giving him false hopes about …” She had to swallow before she could say it. “About us. About … this.”

  “This,” he repeated. “I’ve tried getting over this, I tried ignoring this. It’s not working. How about you?”

  She could only shake her head.

  “Then maybe we look beyond our problems on this, too. Go through it, see where it leads. You told me to let Alfred be an adult. Maybe you were right. So we’ll tell him up front, so he doesn’t get any grand ideas.”

  She smiled wryly. “And here you said you knew the man. Do you honestly believe he won’t think whatever he damn well pleases?”

  “We could be worrying about nothing. For all we know, we could be sick of each other inside a week.”

  “Yeah, right.” Jordy snorted, then felt her face go red. “It could happen,” she muttered.

  He tipped her chin. “Yeah,” he said, then took her mouth again.

  They lifted their heads, only to find Alfred standing just beyond the opening in the hedgerow. Gone was his fatigue. His eyes were bright and his step more lively than it had been in days. “I misjudged you, Malacai.” He shifted his gaze to hers. “Instincts aren’t such a terror, are they, my dear?”

  Before either could speak, Dilys stepped through the hedge opening at the opposite end of the small garden. She motioned to Cai, who walked over to where she stood.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  “There is a delivery, at the dock. The gentleman will take only your signature.”

  SEVENTEEN

  Cai felt his stomach drop. “I’ll be right there,” he said. He turned to Jordy. “Why don’t you and Alfred finish discussing your plans for the cottage, then come up to the house. Dilys will show you to your room. We can make the rest of the arrangements at tea.”

  Jordy frowned. “What’s wrong?”

  He held her gaze, silently telegraphing her to let this drop while Alfred stood so near. “I have to go take care of something. I’ll see you at the house later.”

  “Wait, I want to go with you.”

  “Jordy—” But he could see from the stubborn set of her jaw that she wasn’t going to be left behind.

  She turned to Alfred and Dilys. “I need to talk to Cai. Why don’t I meet you back at the house? We can finish discussing this there. Is that okay?”

  Cai swore silently as Alfred’s eyebrows lifted in curiosity. He looked from Cai to Jordy, then smiled benevolently. “You’ve spent more than enough time humoring this old man,” he said, eyes twinkling. “Dilys and I will be in the house whenever you two finish … talking.”

  For once, Cai was actually relieved to see the matchmaking glint in Alfred’s eyes. He’d set him straight later. Or try to. What he was going to say to convince him after the kiss he’d witnessed, he had no idea. Hell, he wasn’t even sure how he felt about this new turn in their relationship.

  But it was better to deal with Alfred’s scheming than with his curiosity. Cai had a very bad feeling about the package that awaited him.

  “Thank you, Alfred,” Jordy said, her cheeks a little pink. “We won’t be long.”

  Cai nodded to Alfred and Dilys, then waved to Jordy in front of him down the path.

  “What’s going on?”
she asked, as soon as they were out of earshot.

  “Package at the dock needs my signature.”

  Jordy paused and put her hand on his arm. “Do you think it’s from her?”

  Even with his mind in total turmoil, her touch drew his attention like a brand. He had a good idea he’d need all his wits about him right now, so he slid his arm from her touch. He’d much rather go back to exploring the kiss they’d just shared than deal with what lay ahead. “Yeah, that’s exactly what I think. Come on.”

  The boat that awaited them at the dock wasn’t from any of the usual delivery services that operated out of the Keys. The deliveryman had on a black tank top and khaki shorts. He was of average build, in good shape, and appeared fairly young, in his early twenties. His dark sunglasses and plain black cap hid his features effectively. There was no sign anywhere of what company he worked for.

  Cai slowed as he neared the end of the dock.

  “You Malacai L’Baan?” the young man called out.

  Cai nodded and kept Jordy angled behind him as the young man lifted a wooden crate onto the dock. It was about a foot and a half tall and half as wide.

  He lifted a clipboard. “I need you to sign for this.” When Cai made no move to come any closer, he beamed a smile, showing a row of perfect white teeth. “Boss lady gets a bit antsy about deliveries. You know how it is. I don’t come back with a signature, I get docked my percentage of the delivery fee.”

  “Boss lady?” Jordy whispered.

  “Stay here,” Cai ordered, then walked closer to the crate. “What company are you delivering for?” he asked the young man.

  The young man waited a beat too long in answering. “Union Parcel.”

  “Never heard of them.” Cai stepped closer. “What’s in the package? Who sent it? I’m not expecting anything.”

  “I don’t know about contents.” He tried the smile again, but it wasn’t as confident as his earlier one. “I just deliver ’em. It doesn’t say here who sent it, just an address.”

 

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