The Stargazer

Stargazer (chapter eighteen)

The broad sword hacked through another chunk of thorns and Aislinn ducked the flying debris. At least Rowan’s insistence on the sword made more sense this time. The fading daylight reflected crimson from the blade as he took another swing at the barrier hedge. He’d already slashed through several yards of thorns, but there was still a dense tangle of mess to get through before they could get close enough to touch the wall.


Bits of thorn littered the ground, a trap for unwary feet. There wouldn’t be time to clean an area for dancing before dark fell and she would need to dance.


Rowan took another swing at the hedge wall. For the first time in days, she wished Wheezer was there to help. Where had the golem gotten to, anyway? Bits of thorn stung her cheeks, distracting her from the thought. The problem was what it was and she only had one more chance to do this before Rowan dug in his heels altogether. Not that he’d said as much, but he’d been noticeably quieter today, a feat for a man who was naturally reticent to begin with. She knew without being told he was reaching the limit of what he would endure for this line attack.


Watching the muscles of his back flex as he swung the sword again, she sighed quietly.  While he was a quiet man by nature, he wasn’t a cruel or necessarily bad tempered one. He didn’t want her hurt, physically or emotionally. He was afraid for her and that admission, unwilling as it had been, had a strange effect on her. She watched him now through new eyes. It wasn’t the power of his body that drew her, she admitted, though she was definitely attracted. It was the strength of his heart.


Was she in love with him? No, but that would change the more time she spent with him and she knew it. She had to break free of this prison soon or she would be lost.  She had never been in love or even the facsimile thereof that people so often fooled themselves into believing was real. She’d imagined it, of course. Wondered if that amazing, terrible state would befall her as it had her parents.


That relationship was as tempestuous as it was unbreakable. Her mother was a whimsical soul; her father a pragmatist. Sparking tempers was simply part of the balance they formed between them. Raewyn’s parents were smooth and unruffled in comparison. Still, there was no doubting the love that bound them together. Which would she prefer? Someone to fight with her and for her? Or someone who eased her mind and heart? Neither, she thought, watching Rowan hack away at the thorn hedge. Both. She wanted it all.


A squeal like metal on stone cut at her ears and she flinched out of her thoughts to find Rowan stepping away to survey his handiwork.


“Can you control where you dance?” he asked, not looking at her.


“To some extent.”


She picked her way through the debris to join him, rubbing at the chill bumps that chased over her skin. It was cool in Spring tonight. The light faded quickly leaving purple shadows caught in the silver weave of the branches behind them.


“The dance is always the same so I know where the steps will take me and I can plan for that. Why?”


“End as close to this spot as you can manage.” He resheathed his sword and indicated the bare patch near the faint shimmer of the wall. He’d succeeded in clearing a path through the thick, nasty mess, but it was narrow. “We need to get you to the wall as quickly as we can.”


She nodded and then looked up at him, noting the furrows in his brow and the thin line of his mouth.


“It hurts you, doesn’t it?” she whispered, amazed at the realization. “It hurts you to watch me dance.”


He glanced at her and then away, a strange glitter in his eyes. “No. The dancing isn’t the problem. It’s what comes after that bothers me.”


She flinched from that. Grounding the power was about as intimate as two people could get with their clothes still on. It shattered self-control and inhibitions. To a man as controlled as Rowan, it would be tantamount to rape.


“Once more and we’re done,” she promised, her throat tight. “Just once more.”


He’d promised her this dance and she would hold him to it, but no more.


He gave her a curious look she ignored. “It might take more than once.”


“Once.”


Turning her back to him, she studied the land around them. Slender trees encircled a small meadow at the edge of the thorn hedge but it was too far from the wall to serve. Rowan’s path was bare dirt but narrow and littered with bits of thorn and shredded wood. It would hem her in, forcing her to tread a careful path or suffer the consequences. The dark shuttered in around them and she felt the rising call of earth and air. It was time.


Lifting her arms, she gave herself over to the dance. A breeze wrapped around her as she swayed and turned, her toes making small marks in the dirt between thorns and branches. Around  her, she could feel the pulse of life and she reached for it. The darkness moved as the night wore on, the faint silvery glow of the leaves fading as she moved closer to the hedge of thorns.


Her wings brushed the walls of the path as she entered the narrow way, catching on small barbs. She couldn’t put them away without being forced to step fully on the hazard strewn earth. A small flutter brought her off the dirt to avoid a clump of broken hedge but a thick branch shredded the upper curve of one wing and she bit back a cry.


She lifted her arms to the black arch of the sky as she spun, calling air. A wash of moonlight and water answered on a breath of a breeze. Not enough. She dug her toes into the earth as she danced, pulling at the dark, slow power. The familiar tingle began to pulse under her skin.


The hedge pressed in on either side, fouling her wings when she tried to move them. Thorns stabbed wicked sharp points into her feet, drawing blood. Still she danced, trapped in the power she called. Blood soaked into the dirt and the feel of the magic grew darker.


Through the slender silver trees that stood sentry at the edge of the dirt, a green ribbon of light flowed, mist and yet not. Aislinn didn’t have a chance to study it as the dance pushed her on, turning her away from the strange sight and back toward the shimmering wall of the bubble. Instinct screamed that it was dangerous, but she was trapped by the very thing she hoped could set her free. Her heart hammered in her chest. She wanted to call out, to warn Rowan to watch the misty thing, but the magic began to burn, power pulsing against constrained pathways, forging new rivers through her being. It was all she could do not to scream.


A broad form blotted out her sight of the trees when she turned that way next. Rowan. His sword drawn, he dropped into a fighter’s stance, his attention firmly fixed on the trees the encompassed Spring.


The ribbon of mist coalesced, rising high over the Aislinn and her changeling guardian. Pale silver eyes glowed down at them as if moonlit as the dragon opened its mouth in a hissing roar.


The thing was unlike any dragon she’d seen before. Long and sinuous, it twined between the trees like a snake. It had no legs but seemed instead to writhe through the air itself. It’s narrow muzzle displayed a triplicate set of jagged teeth, reminding her of a shark.


The dance pushed her on, the burn edging into raw agony. She heard Rowan’s roar of challenge and she turned back in time to see the huge sword slice the air, aiming for the tooth-filled maw.


She watched in flashes as the dance permitted. The serpent diving for Rowan, mouth gaping. Rowan rolling to his feet, sword in hand. Thorns exploded, bits of wood like shrapnel.


Blood.


Her heart in her throat, Aislinn fought the constraints of the dance, knowing it was no use. This was one battle Rowan would have to fight on his own.


There was a slithering hiss of scales on wood and the serpent lunged again, teeth clashing against steel. She heard Rowan’s grunt of pain, a moist thud as the sword connected with flesh and the thorns rattled with the serpent’s pained bellow.


Flames licked over her vision signaling the coming dawn. Aislinn could hardly breathe, her body on fire with power and fear.  Green scales flowed through her line of sight. The thing was moving through the thorny hedge as it had the trees. On instinct, Aislinn ducked as she twirled, her wings tucked close to her body. Huge teeth clamped on the air where her wings would have been but there was no time to panic. The dance pushed her, demanding she move in spite of the danger. The wall of the world shimmered closer.


“No, damn it!”


Rowan’s shout sounded directly behind her as light spilled into the sky. The dance ended and Aislinn fell. The dragon rose high, triumph in its cry now. It knew helpless prey when it saw it and she was prime pickings. Rowan stood between them, a single man and a long sword. The serpent lunged and Rowan thrust upward, the sword sinking deep in the creature’s throat. It cried out, slinging itself backwards. The sword flew away to be lost among the thorns but the serpent wasn’t finished.


Aislinn cried out as the thing snapped at Rowan, teeth sinking into his arm. The big man was lifted off his feet to dangle then the serpent shook him, sending him flying the way of his sword.


Aislinn could hardly move. Through the power that filled her vision, she could see the serpent above her, weaving slightly as it decided the best way to pounce. She was going to die.


The creature bent closer, nudging at her as if trying to figure out if she were alive. With a strange squeal, the wedge-shaped head shot skyward again, thrashing against the pale dawn. A body thudded onto the dirt beside her. Blinking rapidly, Aislinn managed to clear her vision a little.


Rowan.


He was covered in blood and every visible inch of his skin was scratched and oozing blood. Aislinn rolled onto her side, her breathing labored as she edged closer to him. Blood soaked the front of his shirt and his arm lay shredded and useless across his stomach.


Overhead, the serpent screamed again. The lightening day highlighted an odd protrusion high on its neck. She blinked, trying to focus as the serpent gave one last cry and fell, vanishing into the hedge. She could hear it thrashing around. Death throes, she hoped.


Rowan’s breath rattled in his chest and Aislinn dragged herself close enough to touch him.


“Rowan?”


He coughed, trying to roll onto his side. Her hand on his chest held him in place, too weak to fight her.


“Got to get you to the wall,” he mumbled. “Got to ground…”


She had a choice. Aislinn sucked a shuddering breath and glanced at the wall of their prison. So close. So tempting. With the power that currently boiled through her, she could shatter those walls. But doing so would leave her with nothing left to save Rowan.  Shoving up on an elbow, she gazed down at him. He was still trying to move, trying to get closer to the wall.


“No, Rowan.” Her voice shook but she’d made her decision. “I need to ground the magic in you.”


“Not leaving you trapped.” He gained a few more precious inches. 


“I’m not letting you die.”


Either he didn’t hear her or he ignored her, grunting as he pulled himself a little further through the dirt. Flames tunneled her vision, warning her she was running out of time. She had to act now before she was lost to the power.


“My freedom is not worth your life,” she whispered.


Bending low, she kissed him.


Power surged into the link, cutting her off from the rest of the world. Fire filled her eyes, her ears. Nothing existed beyond the flames. His lips moved under hers and a new flame surged as the old one faded. This one had nothing to do with power and everything to do with the man. She would not lose him!


The glow faded and Aislinn opened her eyes.


Rowan’s labored breathing brushed her mouth. The cuts across his face oozed blood and his breathing remain a moist, unnatural sound. Fear lanced through her. The magic hadn’t healed him! Frantic, she reached for the magic to heal but there was nothing left in her.


His good arm lay stretched over his head, his fingers brushing the wall. Tears flowed down her cheeks as she watched the line of fire flow from his fingers into the wall, thin and vanish.


“Oh, Rowan. No.”


“Not your bargain.” A rough spasm of coughing shook him, jerking his hand away from wall. His wounds continued to bleed, his life soaking into the ground beneath him.


“I’m not worth your life!”


A faint smile touched his face in spite of the pain he had to be in. “You are,” he whispered. Another cough shook him and she grabbed his shirt, trying to hold him to life even as she felt him slipping away. “Not worth yours.”


She never got the chance to answer. A booming crack shook the world, raining bits of thorn and silver leaves down on them. She leaned over him, her wings spread to protect him as best she could. Sobs shook her, her tears falling to wet his face. Wind whistled through the hedge whirling around them in growing strength. Leaves and twigs pelted her wings, tearing holes in the fragile things but she didn’t feel it. Closing her eyes, she held onto him as tight as she dared.


I love you…


The words were ripped away by the gale before she could process his whisper and then world shattered.