by Jaci Burton
Not this time.
Never again.
Trista paced the great room, her belly twisting in knots as she watched Nadine rock an inconsolable Erin in her arms. Tears streamed down the young girl's face and she would occasionally give in to racking sobs, only to stop and start again, wailing about her brother.
She wished she could do the same but would not allow herself to wallow in self-pity. Hurt beyond the ability to do much other than pace back and forth, Trista refused to shed a single tear over Braedon's words.
How could he think this was her fault? Did he not know what the wizards were after? Did he not recognize the coincidence of her arrival and the attack? 'Twas not the party or the relaxed atmosphere that caused the wizards to attack. 'Twas her presence, her magic, that made them appear.
'Twas her they were after. Donny was the bait. She was the prize. She felt their pull, their call to her, their insidious, sickening magic trying to weave their way inside her mind. She knew where they were and what they wanted.
Despite her fear and inexperience, she had to do this and she had to do it alone, knowing Braedon would not believe her, would not allow her to help in any way. He blamed her for all this and she had to show him she could help.
She would free Donny and give Braedon back his family and peace of mind, even if it cost her own life to do so.
Escaping the castle grounds was not a problem since by now they were used to her coming and going into the forest. Besides, they were all busy looking for Donny. And Braedon avoided her. She waited a day to make sure he would not seek her out, though she was not certain if she did so to make sure he would not come to her or to see if he would. Or hope he would.
But of course he did not. He would not. He had told her he did not need or want her help. Even the people of the castle who had started to approach her, to befriend her, had withdrawn from her. Once again, Greenbriar had become a tomb of silence, a castle of ice in the heart of the hottest lands of summer. The only ones who would speak to her were Nadine and Erin, and they spent much of their time together consoling each other. 'Twas easy to slip out late the following night when no one was about.
But as she headed downstairs she ran into Erin.
"What are you about so late, Erin?"
"I cannot sleep."
"Where is Nadine?"
"In my room. Snoring."
Erin managed a slight smile and Trista tried the same. "You should go back to your room in case she wakes up so she will not worry where you are."
"Where are you going, Trista?"
"For a walk."
Erin tilted her head and looked at Trista. "You are fully dressed and it is the middle of the night. Are you leaving us?"
Erin was much too intelligent for one so young. "Of course not. Like you, I am having trouble sleeping."
"I miss Donny. He will never be returned to us, will he?" Trista sat in a nearby chair and pulled Erin into one next to it. "Of course he will. I will see to it." As soon as she said the words she regretted it.
Erin's eyes widened. "You will? You can bring him back to us? How?"
"I will try, Erin. But you must not say a word to anyone, especially not to Braedon. He does not think I can help."
"You will use your magic."
"Aye."
Erin pondered for a moment. "Is it dangerous for you?" She patted Erin's hand. "I will be fine. Now you go up to bed and I promise to try my best to bring Donny home to you."
Erin nodded and they stood, then the girl threw her arms around Trista. "I love you, my sister. Please be careful. I do not want to lose you too."
Trista's eyes welled up with unshed tears. She nodded and hurried from the castle.
The guards watching the castle paid no attention to her. Braedon and the other guards were out searching for Donny. In the wrong place, of course. Not that he would have listened to her had she tried to tell him, which she did not.
Instead, she slipped into the forest, passing by the lake where she and Braedon had shared lovemaking, wishing she could go back and share the warmth and passion of his body again, wishing she could somehow change what had happened.
But she could not change what had happened to Donny. She could only trade her magic for Donny's safety.
Magic was light, laughter and love, none of which she would need again when her heart was a cold stone without Braedon's trust and love. How many times did she need to have her heart crushed before she decided to live her life without the warmth and passion of love?
Nay, she needed no magic in her heart. The wizards could have it. And if her life be forfeit, so be it. She would gladly give it up to those evil beings if it would spare the life of an innocent child she had grown to love.
For she would give what love she had to Donny and to Erin. She had none to give to their brother. He had hurt her for the last time and she would never allow him to hurt her again.
The forest grew colder, the sweet sounds stilled and the evil of the wizards filled her senses as she entered between the faerie realm and hers. This was the forbidden area where she had never broached before, where the beauty of D'Naath became shrouded in the evil of the wizards' hold, the dark place that neither controlled but both coveted.
'Twas here she would stop and call forth the wizards, telling them she would willingly trade her magic for Donny's life. They would come. 'Twould not be long now.
She flew upon a tree branch and drew her knees to her chest, clasping her arms around her legs for warmth from the unaccustomed chill.
Barren, no leaves, no lush growth sheltered her. Only sticks for branches that cut into her legs and bottom. No birdsong entertained her, no softly lulling rush of water to pleasure her senses. Instead, all she felt was dead inside and out.
She closed her eyes and called the wizards in her mind.
Despite the weariness bearing down on him, Braedon intended to only grab a quick bite to eat for him and his men before heading out to search again for Donny, but first he had to make an apology.
As he had been out searching for his brother, he had plenty of time to think of all the events that had taken place over the past day since Donny had been taken. And one of the most important things had been his accusations against Trista.
Misplaced accusations. Vicious accusations. Once again, he had hurt the one person he cared the most about. The one woman he had come to...
Love.
Yes, by God, he loved her. And he needed her. Riding out and searching the darkness for his brother, he realized he wanted to come home and find her waiting there for him. He wanted to wrap himself in her arms and feel her strength. And he wanted her to love him as much as he loved her.
But how could she when all he had ever done was hurt her? From the first day she had arrived he had insulted her, treated her like a child, fucked her like a woman and then berated her for acting like one.
'Twas a wonder she still remained with him.
Then, when she had given him such an incredible gift, he had blamed her for the wizards' abduction of his brother, when 'twas not her fault at all.
He had much to atone for, to his people and mostly to her...
If she would forgive him. He bounded up the stairs and knocked on the door to her chambers.
No answer. He turned the knob and entered but found the room dark.
Perhaps she kept company with Erin and Nadine, but when he went to his sister's room, Nadine said Trista had not been in there.
Where could she be?
He turned to leave, but Erin stopped him.
"She is going to bring Donny home."
Braedon went cold. "What?"
"She asked me not to tell you, but you were so mean to her I think you should know. You should tell her you are sorry."
"What do you mean she is going to bring Donny home?"
"She told me she is going to use her magic to bring him home. She left earlier this eve to go get him."
"How? Where?"
"I do not know."
He grabbed Erin and kissed her forehead. "Thank you. And you are right. I do owe her an apology." Hurrying from the room, he shouted for his guards, grabbing weapons and horses, intending to violate the treaty with D'Naath.
She was in the forest. Though his men were uncomfortable with entering the magic lands of D'Naath, they would do whatever he asked them to.
The cool forest welcomed them and he followed it as far as the lake, remembering the last time he and Trista shared an evening there, hoping it would not be the last time he would hold her in his arms. He had to find her.
Foolish faerie. Why would she go off and search for Donny on her own? If she knew where he was held, why would she not come to him and tell him?
Because he told her he was not interested in her magic and wanted her to stay out of his way. He told her she caused Donny's disappearance. He told her many things, all of them cruel and hurtful.
Merciful God, would he have the chance to take them back?
Trista felt as if she had been on the branch for days, when it had been only hours. The sun had risen and sat high overhead, yet the high branches obscured the sun.
Not that the sun would be welcome in this place. She was stiff, cold and hungry, yet loath to move since she had sent out her message.
The least the wizards could have done was hurry. Did they have to call a meeting to discuss her offer?
Could they not just wing their way here with their magic? How difficult could this be? Perhaps they thought her a powerful faerie and they could not fight her.
She snorted. Clearly she was becoming delirious and suffering flights of fancy. Yet even as she thought of them, she felt their approach. Standing, she stretched her limbs and her wings, flying off the tree and landing with a soft touch on the leaf-strewn ground, then inched her way into the flatlands, drawing them where she wanted them.
The last thing she would do is meet them on their ground. She moved east of the flatlands, from neutral territory back into the forests of D'Naath, where her magic was stronger. They might normally be reluctant to follow her there, but follow her they would, for their desire for her magic was stronger than their hesitation to enter the faerie forest. She barely skirted the edge of D'Naathian land, but she hovered there, waiting for them, sensing their approach. Their cloying hands dipped into her mind, already trying to grasp her magic and take it from her.
But she would not give it up so easily. She steeled her will and kept her magic closed. First they would free Donny.
After that, they could have her magic. The forest held her powers firm as she watched the sky overhead darken with their approach. Like a swarm of thick insects, they hovered overhead then swooped down, surrounding her, cutting off her air with their evil stench. Fear choked her as she felt the isolation. Her stomach tumbled and she feared she would not be able to handle so many of them coming at her.
She had heard stories of the wizards, had engaged them in battle with her mind when her sister Noele had fought them on behalf of Garick, her husband, but never had she seen them. Their faces, thin and skeletal, evil masks of hatred and greed, grew closer, their bony fingers reaching for her. Refusing to inch away, she stood firm, chin held high, determined not to let them see her terror.
"Where is the child?" she asked, hoping they did not detect the tremor in her voice.
"The child is fine," one stated as he came forward, his voice gentle and soft. He thought to reassure her, but she knew better.
"Bring him forth or I will not yield and you will lose that which you seek." If they had to fight to take what they wanted, some of her magic would be lost to them and they knew it. But still, he reached for her so she took a deep breath and cast her powers in his direction. "Back away!" The wizard's hand stilled in mid-air and he inched backward. "Very well." Motioning behind him to the others, they parted and Donny came rushing through.
Trista enveloped him in her arms, tightening her hold on him and casting a quick protective spell around him.
"Donny, are you all right?"
"Yes, Trista," he said, his tiny voice muffled against her stomach. "The wizards smell." She smiled. "Yes, they do. Did they harm you?"
"No, but they would not let me go home. I want to go home, Trista." Her eyes pooled with tears. Angry tears that these vile creatures would take a small child and use him as a pawn. "And you will go home very soon. Stand behind me, and as soon as I tell you, take the path directly behind you. It will lead right to the castle. Do not stop. Run and go home, do you understand?"
"Will you go with me?"
She crouched down and looked at him, brushing dirt away from his cheeks. "I must stay here and talk to the wizards. They have been very bad. But you must go home. Braedon and Erin and Aunt Nadine are very worried about you and miss you."
He frowned and shook his head. "I want you to go with me, Trista."
"I cannot do that, Donny. I must stay here and talk with them. Please do as I ask. 'Tis the only way. Will you do that for me?"
He cast his eyes downward and nodded. "Aye."
"Good boy." She ruffled his hair and kissed his cheek. "You tell your brother that I love him and I am sorry for causing him such pain, but I must stay here and deal with the wizards now. Will you remember to tell him these things?"
"Yes, Trista. I will remember."
"Good boy. I love you. Tell Erin I love her too. Now go." As Donny ran down the path, Trista turned toward the wizards, lifting her arms. The skies opened, lightning pouring down around her.
"You will take what I offer, but not before the boy is safely returned to his people. Until then, I hold you here under the power of faerie magic!"
A cry of outrage spilled around her as the wizards roared and surrounded her. She felt them pressing down on her, reaching into her mind to take her powers away. She knew she could not hold them long before they penetrated her defenses, but hopefully long enough for Donny to make his way to safety.
She could already feel herself weakening. This time, she let the tears fall freely, wishing this could somehow have ended differently. If only she and Braedon could have met in the middle and worked together. If only he had let her love him.
If only...
Braedon's heart slammed in his chest when he heard the words Trista spoke to Donny. He and his guards had approached on horseback, sliding off their mounts and inching toward the wizards surrounding her. As soon as Donny took off down the path, Braedon sent two of his men to intercept him and take him out of harm's way and back to the castle. Watching the wizards surround Trista now, watching the way she threw her magic at them, he was stunned by her bravery, by her willingness to sacrifice herself to save Donny.
He was humbled by her courage, realizing how very much he had misjudged her. Where he had thought her childish and inexperienced, he realized now she was a very powerful faerie, filled with love and magic he did not even begin to understand. Love did not make one weak. It strengthened one. Trista's love for him and for Donny gave her strength to do what she did now. He had underestimated her at every turn and he had much to atone for.
If he was given the chance.
No! He would be given the chance. Pulling his sword, he gave the signal to his men to charge the wizards.
If love gave her strength, it would do the same for him. Opening his heart, he let his love for Trista fill him, empower him. He would save her as she had saved Donny.
With the power and strength of his love for them.
Trista's eyes widened as she spotted him. If what Braedon suspected was true, she would hear him in her mind.
Stand firm and do not let your wall of magic down. I am here to help you, to save you.
No! Go away, Braedon. Your brother is safe. Make sure he gets back to the castle.
I am already doing that. Have faith in me, my love. I will take care of you too.
She paused then shook her head. You are no match for these wizards, Braedon. Please, go away before you are hurt .
He smiled
at her. I know you are more powerful than I, a mere human, my faerie. But you must trust that I know what I am doing. Protect yourself and your magic and allow me to do what I can from here.
Braedon, please.
Must you always argue, faerie? 'Tis hardly the time. I am about to battle. We can do this later.
She smiled at him. He grinned and lifted his sword, charging the wizards full force. They turned away from Trista and engaged him and his guards in battle .
Their foul stench was like rotting garbage on a hot day and he forced back the bile rising in his throat, fending off their bolts of hot flame with his sword. Their magic might be powerful but was no match for his skills with a sword. He dispatched them easily despite their numbers advancing on him and his men.
These wizards were lazy, had no organization, no battle plan other than to rush and attack. They were disjointed, scrambling and turning, no method other than to hurl their power balls at random targets. In the meantime, Braedon and his men were slicing through them handily, but still were outnumbered and more wizards arrived from the air, descending upon them like a sudden rainstorm.
Though Braedon's troops were better organized, he feared they would soon lose the battle through sheer numbers.
Take my strength, Trista told him. They will take my magic if you do not. I can will it to you.
No! You hold on to it to keep them at bay.
You will lose without it.
Trista, no!
But he already felt himself strengthen, knew she was transferring her power to him and his men, felt it surge within him. He ran to her, pushing past the wizards as her magic gave him the strength equal to that of the wizards. Bolts of lightning shot from the tip of his sword as he sliced through the wizards trying to stop him from reaching Trista. He swept his arm around her waist just as she would have crumpled to the ground. Her eyes were closed, her face pale as she lay there limp in his arms while he fought off wizards in front of him.
He did not even need to speak, using mental thoughts to have his guard surround his side and back and keep the wizards from harming Trista, for he knew she still held the key to her magic, knew the power she gave him would only help temporarily.
They would never be able to fight off so many of the evil lords amassing to fight. They must want this faerie's magic badly to send so many of their own to take it from her.