Rowan stirred in his sleep. Murmured that he loved a goddess. The brand over her heart warmed in response to his voice. Memories of their time together flooded back like an erotic dream. She shouldn’t be surprised he’d left his mark, the image of a rowan tree in the center of a circle of flames. When a Fire Wizard made love to a woman with whom he felt a connection, and she accepted that bond, he left his mark.
She had left her brand on him as well. Over Rowan’s heart was her personal mark—three equal blue lines, representing currents of water, intertwined with Celtic symbols. Rowan had believed the legends that if a Wizard found his soul mate, he would be branded with her sign, and no glamour or spell would cloak her identity. A deluge of conflicting emotions threatened to drown her.
What would it be like for them to make love without the enchantments? She shook her head, trying to clear the thoughts from her mind. Rowan represented everything she and her sister Wizards were trying to escape. If she weakened, and remained with him, countless others might suffer for her selfishness. Besides, there was no way of knowing if her mark on him would fade over time. Perhaps it was only the heat of passion that had seared him, not the sign of a lasting love.
Morgan gathered her strength around her like a winter cloak. She’d woven a sleeping spell around him while they’d made love, but even she was not sure how long it would last. Rowan wasa powerful Fire Wizard. What had proved to work for someone else was not as certain with him.
She finished dressing in slacks and a white sweater, denying herself the small pleasure of kissing him goodbye. She didn’t trust herself. If he reached out to her in his sleep, drew her into his embrace again…
She ignored the seductive thoughts as she stepped out into the cool air. Dawn was a mere hour away. Shivering, she blew on her hands to warm them, already missing Rowan’s touch and the heat of his breath on her skin as she headed toward the prearranged meeting place in a clearing down by the shore. Too much was at stake, too many lives counted on her leadership and clear thinking. Giving in to passion was a luxury reserved for the young.
****
A sapphire mist grew more concentrated as Morgan drew near the clearing. Fir and pine trees stood guard while magic illuminated the darkness. Her heart ached in response to what she’d asked of them. In the center, young female Wizardlings, ranging in age from infant to teenager, huddled together. Without a word of dissent, all female Wizards, young and old, had agreed to the mind-speak messages she’d sent. They trusted she knew what was best. She prayed their trust was well placed. Today she’d asked them to leave behind a world they knew, with the hope they would find one better.
Dressed to blend into the human world, they wore jeans, sweaters, and hooded sweatshirts. The older female Wizards flowed among the youngest, comforting, wiping tears, handing out stuffed unicorns and bunny rabbits, and giving hugs. All knew the dangers. Defying the Talons and the Grey Council was not tolerated and would be met with swift and merciless consequences.
Morgan noticed Zephra standing on the perimeter, her expression vacant. Morgan reached her side and clasped Zephra’s hand in hers. “What is wrong?”
Zephra’s voice sounded as though it was holding back a sob. “Vlad attacked the man I’d chosen, after we were in our tent, and drove him away. Then Vlad forced me to lie with him.”
Morgan pulled Zephra into her arms. The young woman was still, her arms held stiff at her sides. Morgan’s pulse quickened. How had this happened? Sexual assault was forbidden, an offense punishable by death. That the Grand Vizier, the leader of the Grey Council, had committed the heinous crime was chilling. It meant he felt himself above the law. Caitlin had been right all along.
Morgan shut her eyes against the horror. It confirmed their need to escape. “I vow we will avenge you.”
Zephra’s expression was as dark as an underwater cave. “When I realized Vlad was blocking my cries for help, I concentrated on reading as much of his thoughts as were open to me. Such an arrogant man! He thinks we’re stupid and weak. I gave Vlad an exceptionally strong spell to keep him asleep. We should be the ones to rule, not male Wizards.”
Morgan felt the deep revenge eating away at Zephra’s soul and sent healing waves toward her. On a sigh, Zephra’s clenched hands eased, and her breath became more even. Morgan squeezed Zephra’s hand gently. “I want you to leave the island with the Wizardlings. I do not want you here when Vlad awakens.”
Zephra shook her head slowly as she forced a smile. “Morgan, I know your thoughts and know you want to stay behind, but in your heart, you know you can’t. You are our leader now. Your powers and wisdom are the most advanced. The hope of our survival as free women rests with you. I read in Vlad’s thoughts that after Caitlin, he feared you the most. All aregrateful to do their part. Do not fear for my safety. I might be able to learn more from Vlad that will be of help to us.”
Morgan rubbed her shoulder at the base of her neck, but the tension did not subside. Unfortunately, Zephra’s reasoning was sound. “I just hope there are enough left on the island to maintain the spells until dawn breaks. After that, the enchantments will dissolve and the men will awaken.”
“Will seven be enough?”
“It will have to be.” Pride for Zephra and her sister Wizards swelled within Morgan, while fear for their safety and doubt of her own abilities to lead them threatened to tear her apart. There was a real chance she would never see many of them alive again. She must not fail. Morgan rested her hands on Zephra’s shoulders. “I pray I am worthy of your trust.”
“There is no doubt in our hearts. You have given us hope.” As the young woman turned toward the shore, her expression shone with a new inner strength and confidence. “The Grand Vizier’s yachts are anchored in the harbor and his plane is on the landing strip behind the castle. The man I lay with before Vlad arrived was an Air Wizard, and he confessed that he and his brother Wizards are sympathetic to how we are treated. I do not believe they will attack as you escape the island.”
Morgan glanced toward the sky. The weather over the past few days had been unpredictable. If Zephra’s belief was correct, it would explain the unusual weather. The Air Wizards knew Vlad liked clear skies during the week of Bealtaine. But the weather had been fraught with high winds. Dare she hope that the Air Wizards were expressing a small rebellion?
“I hope you are correct. But we cannot take the chance. Using an airplane is too risky. Although slower, yachts are a safer choice. Water is a female Wizard’s natural protector, while air is the domain of Air Wizards. Come. We must prepare the young Wizards for a boat ride. We leave immediately.”
Chapter Eleven
Two hours later, the Grand Vizier’s yacht sped over the glass-smooth waters of the Salish Sea as Morgan closed the window on the rays of the morning sun. Leaving the island with the young Wizards had gone smoothly but Morgan was not taking any chances. Until they reached their destination, they were not safe, and they would not let down their guard.
The voyage to Seattle was nearing its end, but their problems had only just begun. She wished she had the gift to predict the future, but then, with a smile, remembered her mother’s teachings. The future was fluid. Predicting it was as challenging as trying to contain the currents of the ocean.
Morgan tucked Anne and Deidre into the king-size bed in Vlad’s cabin with two other Wizardlings, all clutching their stuffed animals. Vlad’s yacht was so large it accommodated all the young Wizards. She kissed each child on the forehead, thankful the gentle seas had lulled them to sleep. It had been a long night and would be an even longer day. There was comfort in knowing they were together.
Near the bed, Cassandra was using her lyrical voice to sing a restless babe to dreamland in a cradle of pillows and soft blankets. Morgan was grateful the woman had chosen to repeat what she’d overheard, confirming their fears, igniting them to action. The female Troll was proving to be a strong addition to their band of rebels.
Morgan covered a small child’s foot with a blanket, still not at peace with Caitlin’s death. Whoever had murdered her must have realized the risk of discovery. For that reason alone, Morgan knew no one was safe.
Cassandra’s voice entered her thoughts, her lovely face lined with concern.“I didn’t want to mention this until all the Wizardlings were asleep. Some of them already show signs ofbeing able to read my thoughts, and what I am about to say might frighten them.”She paused.“A man follows us.”
Morgan crossed her arms over her waist, trying to ward off a chill of foreboding.“We knew escaping would not be easy.”
