Highland Sorcerer

  Toren hurdled out of the air back inside the dungeon. He dropped to the floor, hands splayed across the grainy stone. His entire body ached like he’d been wrung through a sieve. The hated bands materialized instantly around his wrists, the bespelled symbols he had so painstakingly unraveled for days to make his brief escape, glowed even more brilliantly than before—strengthened in tri-fold measure. He would not be able to so easily slip their bonds again. At least he wasn’t pinned to the hated wall.

  The swirl of soft fabric rustled near. The hem of Aldreth's white gown whispered across his fingers as the witch crouched near his shoulders.

  "Clever, clever sorcerer."

  Slender fingers stroked his wet hair. "You've bathed." She caressed the back of his shoulders. He stiffened, vowing when he had these bands off, he'd wrap his hands around her dainty little throat. "And have endured a healing. I see. Ye fled to a Healer Enchantress then?” She wrapped a lock of his hair around her fingers and pulled. “Was it worth the cost, young Limont? To have your perfect bones rejoined that I might have the pleasure of breaking them all over again? Mended flesh that I might once again peel away? You believe with this healing ye've gained the strength and will to endure, but I remind you how many long lonely years I have lived, how patient I can be. You will break in time and I will have what I seek."

  Though it took every reserve he had in him, Toren lifted his head to face her in challenge. "You need my acceptance to retrieve it." He grinned in defiance and hoped he did it well. "I'll go to my grave before giving you that."

  Bending down in front of him, she cupped his chin between her palms and frowned. "I suppose ye will." Abruptly she removed her hands and let his head fall. Toren barely caught himself before his forehead hit the stone.

  Aldreth rose and paced away. The hem of her gown swept along the filthy floor. "'Twould not be my favored outcome. Ye know I prefer you to your brothers."

  Every muscle in Toren's body stiffened. She had used the threat to his family before, yet it still punched a hole through his gut every time. He prayed Shaw and Col remained safely shrouded and didn't try anything foolhardy—like coming after him.

  Toren pushed up on his hands, arms shaking. Aldreth was a fool if she thought threatening his younger siblings would have the desired effect. It only strengthened his resolve to hold out longer and give them time to take the clan to the standing stones of Reolin Skene and remove their magic from Aldreth's reach permanently.

  Aldreth clapped her hands together. "I wonder if Shaw will hold out as long as ye. So young, I cannot imagine he will endure more than a sennight. Shall we wager? I can bring him here. ‘Twas so simple to trick you, the elder and wiser brother,” she mocked. “Think ye I cannot capture another Limont as easily?"

  Toren roared, pulling himself to his knees. "Witch. Ye will not touch my brother."

  Skirts swirling, Aldreth crouched near again. Her finger stroked down his nose. "This does not have to be difficult. We could be powerful together, you and I. You'll see. I'm not evil, Toren. I will not harm your people. I will not extract a drop of blood from your precious siblings. That is not what I seek for them."

  "The very essence of what ye propose will harm them."

  "Nay, Toren. 'Twill make them free. 'Twill give them more power than you've ever considered. Think on this—your brother, the youngest, the shifter—"

  Toren froze. Col.

  "If ye gave in to the full potential of the magic we could wield between us, it would flow through the entire clan, as your clan’s magic flows to you. Your brother could hold another form for several nights on end, not groveling just to hold shape for the mere hours that exhausts him. All the shifters could. And think of the attributes for your seers and summoners, the water-called and moon-touched. Notwithstanding the power you could acquire yourself unrestrained as a sorcerer. Do you have no desire to feel that strength run through you? I understand naught why ye resist our blending of magic. 'Twould make us both stronger, more potent. ‘Twould make the clan stronger. ‘Tis a blessing that should not go to waste."

  "Which would become a curse and well ye know it. There is only darkness in ye. Demon born magic, Aldreth. You’ve colluded with demons, taken oaths to them. I want no part in that. My clan will have no part in that. What ye propose is madness."

  “’Tis power.”

  “’Tis wrong.”

  "Coward. The lot of ye. An entire clan of cowards. Reach out and seize what is yours. I offer you that."

  "Ye offer naught but shadows and death for all of Limont. We've seen this before. We know what happens to those who take upon too much magic that is not inherently their own. Darkness, Aldreth, like the darkness that rides upon your blackened soul. Think you I cannot see the blackness lifting from your flesh even now?"

  "What ye call dark, I call liberation."

  "Aye, the liberation of all vows to duty."

  That hit a nerve. Aldreth yanked his head back, quick and hard, like a striking serpent. "Vows are meant to be broken. Think on that, sorcerer. My grandsire had the courage to challenge the Fae and unleash the magic upon the land. All magic."

  "Magic that was given freely from those he challenged. The Fae are right to have guardians to balance what they have given. 'Tis an honorable covenant and blessing bestowed upon our kind. Your grandsire was mad to believe that magic has no need of protectors."

  "Then protect magic. With me. Who better suited than a daughter of Alduein blended with the descendant of Limont? Together. Our magic will be the most potent blend the land has ever witnessed."

  Toren closed his eyes. A daughter of the clan first deemed as magic protectors whose High Sorcerer turned on the Fae as a hound turned on its master. 'Twas a sorrowful day to all magic born when Burnes Alduein fell and his entire clan was banished. And these centuries later, the wee granddaughter returned grown to take back what she believed was rightfully hers. A powerful witch in her own right, but her magic was tainted. All could feel the underscore of darkness obscured within her essence. Should Toren or any of his siblings join their magic with hers, the scale between light and dark would be unbalanced, throwing their world into an unimaginable night where darkness overshadowed everything.

  He could not give her what she sought without severing his oaths and dooming all earth magic to the balance of darkness. The world would be overrun by creatures best left skimming the shadows.

  "Nay, Aldreth, joining with you would be the breaking of all I hold dear."

  She hissed and slammed his face into the stone floor. He felt bones in his cheek crack, nearly going blind with the pain.

  She swung away and threw the dirty plaid at him. "Then rot here until you've changed your mind. And give him a shave," she tossed to the guard waiting outside the dungeon. “I despise hair-roughened skin.”

  Her clipped steps marched across the floor just before the heavy wooden door creaked and banged shut, splashing him in moldy darkness.

  Chapter Four