Fyne Sisters - The Star Witch Part 23

herself into thinking that the curse could be beaten? Her father a.s.sured her the curse could be broken, and though she did have hope, she did not yet believe.

"Stop," she said calmly. "I have something to tell you."

Lucan did as she asked. He stopped stalking after the others and swung her onto her feet so they were

face-to-face. They had just entered the edge of the wood, and his face was partially lost in shadow. She could see clearly one half of a grim mouth, one steely eye, one half of a firmly set jaw.

Would this be easier for him if she confessed that she loved him? Or would it be best if he never knew?

"I cannot go with you because I am a witch."

His expression did not change. "Yes," he said softly. "I know."Isadora had expected many things to follow her confession. Horror. Denial. Laughter. Hatred. She hadnever expected such a calm response. "How do you know? You know nothing. You're... you're..."The explanation came to her, and it was as horrifying as the idea of watching him flee from her in horror."You're humoring me."

"Unfortunately, I am not."

"Last night-"

"I already knew."

"When you said-"

"I already knew." He sighed and touched her face with a gentle hand. "I did not want to believe it was true, but deep inside I recognized the truth when I heard it. I wished once or twice that I might be wrong, but I realized it was a hollow wish. This is an obstacle I never thought to encounter, but when the choice is you as you are or nothing at all... I choose you." His eyes narrowed. "Have you ever cast a spell on me?" he asked with only a trace of suspicion.

"No."

The relief was evident on his face. "Good. Promise me that you won't, not for good nor for harm, and I will set aside my fears to have you by my side, always."

"I would never cast a spell to do you harm," she said.

"Not for harm nor for good," he insisted. "That is all I ask, Isadora."

She struggled with the answer. "What if you are in trouble, and I can help you with a-"

"No," he interrupted. "Not even for that. What we have must remain free of magic, love. If you need to practice your craft on others to be happy, then do so. But I want what is between us to be natural and untainted. I want it to be real, always."

He called her love, as he had on occasion, and she liked it very much. She had to get past that startling and heart-stopping moment to answer. "If that is what you want, then I give you my word you will have it."

A half smile crossed his face. "I never expected to find myself in love with a witch. It will complicate matters at home, I suspect."

"You should allow me to leave you now," she whispered.

"Perhaps I should, but I won't."

Tears filled her eyes. She hated to cry, to cave to emotion, but Lucan knew what she was, and still he loved her. Could such a love alone not break even the Fyne Curse?

"I have to go back," she said. "I have to save Liane and the babies. They are my responsibility, and I can't put my own well-being above theirs."

He nodded once, and Isadora sighed. He might say he did not care that she was a witch, he might say he still loved her. But he would allow her to walk away from him, after all.

And then he leaned forward and kissed her lightly, his lips barely brushing hers. "You will not go alone."

THE WARNING THAT had frightened him of witches in the palace concerned the emperor's witch Gadhra, Lucan decided. Isadora might practice the craft, but that did not make her the witch Zebulyn had warned him of. Besides, he had been nine years old when the old man had first whispered the words beware the witch, and the deep hatred that had grown from that warning was illogical and unnecessary.

Then again, perhaps it was not his life he had to protect from the witch, but his heart. Isadora had not yet said that she loved him, though he believed it to be true.

She was not happy that he refused to escort her immediately into the palace. If Liane and both babies still lived, then they would be safe for a while longer. If the emperor had killed them soon after tossing Isadora into Level Thirteen, then no amount of her protection would help them now.

He swung his sword up and knocked the one Isadora wielded out of her hand. It spun away and landed in the brush, and a small brown bird was frightened by the resulting crash and flew up into a blue, cloudless sky.

"You cheated!" Isadora shouted indignantly.

He remained calm. "You left yourself wide open with that last thrust. If I were one of the emperor's sentinels, I could have taken your heart."

She pursed her lips but did not argue, since she recognized that he was right. "I will not learn to be a

master swordsman in a matter of days," she argued. "We are wasting valuable time.""You will be prepared before we go back into the emperor's palace, love.""I am as prepared as I need to be," she argued."In my opinion, you are not.""I can cast a spell, if necessary," she continued. "I do not need a sword to find my way to Liane and the babies."

"It is my wish that you are able to fight in both ways. With your magic, and with my sword." He collected the sword in question from the brush and offered it to Isadora. "Indulge me."

She took the sword and resumed her fighting stance. "I do not see why I should indulge you." She

swung, and he easily sidestepped her clumsy move.

"Perhaps because I indulge you in even your most dangerous obsessions." He easily shifted her blade to the side with the tip of his own.

"It is not necessary that you accompany me. You are large and clumsy and will be difficult to conceal,

since you insist that my magic not touch you."

He easily defended the thrust she practiced. "I am not clumsy."

"You will distract me, and there is no good reason for you to go back into the palace." She was quickly

getting breathless. While the sword he had given her was not heavy, working with it was arduous for someone unaccustomed to sword work. Their lessons to this point helped matters to some degree, but it was clear Isadora was not a swordsman.

He disarmed her again, whipping the sword from her grasp with a twist of his blade. "I was going back

anyway, once I saw you to safety."

This time she did not accuse him of cheating or go after the sword. She placed hands on slim hips and glared at him. "What are you talking about? You said Esmun and Elya escaped before you rescued me.

Why on earth would you go back?"

Lucan sheathed his sword in the scabbard he wore at his side, and then he smoothed a strand of wayward hair from Isadora's sweaty face. "The emperor possesses something I need."

"What?"

"The ring you once wore upon your finger. Returning it to the Circle of Bacwyr a.s.sures my place as Prince of Swords."

Her dark eyes went wide. "That is why you asked for me," she said indignantly. "That is why you insisted that I-" She squealed when he lifted her in his arms. "You sneaky, despicable, lying-"

"I never lied," he said as he held her close. She struggled, but not very much. "And while I began my pursuit in a quest for the Star of Bacwyr, I soon lost my heart and my good sense to you."

She stopped struggling and smiled at him. "Whatever makes you think you ever possessed good sense?"

"Before I met you, love, I possessed an abundance." He touched his lips to her throat, kissed there, made her shudder as he whispered against her skin. "Love causes surprising changes in a man. In a woman, too, I suppose, though of course I have no way of knowing such things."

"You want me to tell you that I love you."

He drew away so he could see her face; she was no longer smiling. "Yes."

"What if I can't?"

He would be hurt, if he did not see the depth of pain in her eyes. Lucan put Isadora on her feet, then guided her to a slope that overlooked a small, almost clear pond. It was a soothing view, one that belied the danger that lay ahead. Sitting there, he draped one arm around Isadora. When they were well settled, he asked, "What is stopping you?"

She hesitated, and he waited patiently. Waiting patiently had never been his strong suit, but he did his best and sat quietly until Isadora began to speak. "You don't know everything about me."

"I imagine not. There are many things you do not know about me. When there is time, we will discuss all these revelations, good and bad."

"This one can't wait. There's a curse. It's more than three hundred years old, it's very powerful, and it killed my first husband."

He turned his head to look down at her. She certainly didn't look as if she were teasing him. Isadora's face was stonelike, as if she'd put on a mask to conceal her emotions. "I don't believe any curse can be more powerful than what I feel for you."

She looked up and met his stare with one of her own. "The curse dooms any man who is unfortunate enough to be loved by a Fyne witch. Those hapless men who are younger than thirty do not live to see that year. Those who are older and perhaps wiser come to see the hideousness of the women who love them, and they flee as if the devil himself were on their tails. It is selfish of me, but I swear I would rather see you dead than watch you run away because you despise me." She pursed her lips. "I thought that desertion would come when you found out that I was a witch, but it did not, so now I'm wondering when it will happen, and how, and I'm wondering if it will hurt as much as death, or more."

He smiled down at her, and one hand crept into her mussed braid.

"I tell you my most dreaded secret, and you smile at me?"

"You love me," he answered, his smile unwavering.

"I did not say such a thing."

"No, but you said this curse befalls those men who are loved by Fyne witches, and then you professed your concern for me. It is a rather unromantic way of sharing your feelings, but I will accept it, nonetheless."

She did not argue but leaned against him and turned her gaze toward the pond. "There is more," she whispered.

"Tell me." Nothing could dent his resolve where Isadora was concerned. Nothing.

"Your prophets say your first son will be born in your thirty-eighth year."

"Yes."

"Fyne women produce daughters. If the prophets are correct, another woman will bear your son."

"I will not allow it."

"Since your partic.i.p.ation will be necessary, I imagine you will allow it, when the time comes." She burrowed into his side more snugly. "Perhaps you will make another life, after you come to hate me." She shrugged her thin shoulders. "Perhaps this time I will be the one to die."

"I will not allow you to die," he said gruffly.

"You are very insistent today about what you will and will not allow," she answered without heat. "But what is to be will be, no matter what we do to change the course of time and fate."

He laid Isadora in the gra.s.s and made her look at him once again. "I will not allow you to talk of death or parting or babies born of other women. I have seen who you are, Isadora. You are a witch, you are often disagreeable, you are a miserable swordsman, and a cantankerous woman determined to argue with me at every turn. You snore when you are very tired."

"I do not snore!"

He ignored her argument. "And you are determined to risk your own life to rescue a woman who would not suffer the smallest inconvenience in order to save you. I know all that, and yet I love you deeply. There is nothing your curse can do to change my mind. You and I, we are stronger than any curse. We will defeat it together. Perhaps we already have. I will never leave you, Isadora, and I will not allow you to die." He laid his body against hers, length to length, so she could feel that he wanted her. "You will be the mother of my son. I will accept no other."

Isadora's arms crept around his neck. Her fingers played in the hair at the nape of his neck. "I love you, too," she whispered, the words very soft and uncertain. When the sky did not fall upon them, she said the words again, more strongly. "I love you."

WRAPPED IN A thick blanket and settled in a nook of boulders that protected her from the wind, Sophie watched the sun set. Ariana, well and warmly bundled, napped nearby. Poor thing, she was growing up away from the only home she'd ever known, with soldiers all around her and a mother and father who were distracted by what was to come. Maybe she should've left her daughter in another's care, for this time, but when the opportunity had presented itself, she had been unable to part from her child. They were well protected here, more well protected than they could possibly be anywhere else. Still, it was no life for a child who was just barely one year old.

Sophie smiled for Kane, when he turned from the soldiers who claimed his attention and looked her way, but she did not feel the smile in her heart.

In matters of war, all was going very well. More of the emperor's soldiers had deserted and joined Arik and his rebels. The latest word was that days ago the First Captain of the Circle of Bacwyr had left the palace under less than amicable circ.u.mstances. Perhaps he would not join with the rebels, but at least Arik and his men would not have to fight against the captain and his warriors.

With the desertion of so many of the emperor's troops, and the healing aspect of time, Sophie's father, who had once been the Columbyanan Minister of Defense, was now trusted and even revered by the rebels. Even by Kane, who had been among the last to offer his trust.

The problem was with the baby Sophie carried. She continued to feel the trouble in a way she could not describe. She did not have Juliet's gift of sight, but instinctively she recognized that all was not well. The baby was shifting, dropping, becoming less active. If she was not very careful, the child would come too soon.