Spellbinder (Moonshadow #2)

“What nonsense are you spouting now?” Morgan snapped, his fingers tightening.

Robin’s face darkened from the increased pressure, but he still showed no signs of struggle. He whispered, “I had a most illuminating conversation with Sidonie.”

Instantly, Morgan relaxed his hold. A quick glance up at the lookout point told him the other two men had disappeared from sight. He had not only lost his chance to kill them, but he had lost track of where they were.

“Come on.” Hauling Robin upright, he dragged the puck back to the concealment of his cottage. Once there, he shoved the puck inside and followed, slamming the door behind him. As Robin turned to face him, he snarled, “Start explaining.”

“I was spying on her,” Robin said simply as he adjusted his clothes. “I have this compulsion to witness the damage I’ve wrought. Somehow she sensed me watching. Instead of denying my presence and remaining silent, I chose to reveal myself. She was… violently furious, as you may imagine.”

“If you did anything more to hurt her…,” he growled, feeling his face change.

Robin’s eyes widened, and he threw up his hands. “Peace, sorcerer! Your lady is fine! I took every one of her blows, because I deserved them, and when she calmed down enough to talk, she told me of the geas you’re under.”

Morgan hesitated, breathing hard, and his features eased back into their normal shape. Warily, he asked, “So what now, Robin?”

“Sidonie was right,” Robin breathed, staring at him. “Now I know the geas exists, I can see it lying over you, like fate’s shadow. Before, I always thought it was the shade of your dark arts. Now my reasons for her kidnapping no longer exist, but she made it clear she doesn’t want my help to go home. She said she won’t leave Avalon without you.”

Morgan hadn’t seen that coming. He spun away to hide whatever might be showing in his expression.

After everything she had been through—everything she might still go through—she refused to leave him. A mixture of feelings swelled in his chest, closing his throat.

When he could speak again, his voice was roughened. “We need to talk some sense into her. You need to get her back to Earth.”

“While I appreciate her brave declaration and your unfounded belief in my abilities, I can only act stealthily on my own behalf,” Robin said wryly. “I cannot change another creature into a mouse, or a squirrel. Although I might wish with all my heart things were different, I don’t have the capability of slipping her past the passageway guards.”

At that, Morgan swore, viciously. “You’ve been nothing but a curse.”

“Yes. I cannot undo what I have done, but I can do everything in my power to aid her and help break you free from that which binds you.” Robin paused. “If you’ll let me. I’ll understand if you will not. But, sorcerer, think carefully before you repudiate my offer. You don’t have many options, and with the right motivation I can be a powerful ally.”

Powerful, but chaotic. Lowering his eyelids, Morgan studied Robin intently, trying to decide if accepting his offer of help was worth the added danger and aggravation. If there had been a hint of insincerity or duplicity in the puck, Morgan would have killed him right then and there. Instead, he saw nothing but an earnest desire to help.

Am I really going to gamble everything on the word of my enemy? he wondered.

But the puck was his best choice. As a nature sprite, when Robin was a cat, he smelled like a cat. When he was another creature, he smelled like that creature. There was nobody better to slip around the castle, and the puck’s audacity proved it.

Morgan dug into his pocket and pulled out the diamond wrapped in its cloth of concealment. “Sidonie needs this before her performance,” he told Robin. “She doesn’t know how to play any of the musical instruments here well enough to perform.”

Robin’s expression changed to one of surprised dismay. “None of them?”

“No. Her expertise lies in other instruments… the violin, the guitar, and I don’t know what else. She said she can play five instruments well enough to perform with them, but none are collected in the music hall. The closest instrument is the lute. She’s been picking it up incredibly quickly, but not in enough time for tonight’s performance.”

“How can she survive the night?” Robin’s expression looked troubled.

“With this battle spell.” Morgan held up the cloth-wrapped diamond. “I’ve amended it to transfer my experience of playing the lute to her. It will last long enough to get her through tonight. She needs this spell, and you need to get it to her.” His voice roughened. “No excuses, puck, and there’s no room for failure.”

As Robin held out his hand for the jewel, his gaze darkened with sincerity. “I will see she gets it,” he promised. “I swear it on my life.”

Yes, he would. Morgan would see to it.

He said harshly, “I’ve shown you more mercy than you deserve, and right now, I’m showing you more trust than you’ve earned. If you don’t get this to her, I will pull your lungs out with my claws and watch every moment of your struggle to breathe until you die. I swear that on my life.”

Soberly, Robin accepted the jewel. “I believe you.”

“Tell her the spell will be triggered by her touch, so she shouldn’t unwrap the jewel until she’s ready for it.” He took a deep breath, his mind already leaping to the next obstacle. “And tell her there’s a hiding place in the rafters above the great hall. I will do my very best to be there for her performance.”

In fact, he would make damn sure he was there. If Robin failed to deliver the diamond, he needed to have a backup plan. He didn’t have time to create another magic item of such complexity, so he would have to get within enough proximity to cast the battle spell himself, despite the increased danger of being discovered.

“I will pass along your message.” Robin slipped the jewel into his pocket then hesitated. “About the geas that binds you… I remember very well the knife Isabeau wears on a chain at her waist. Sidonie said it’s called Azrael’s Athame, or sometimes Death’s Knife?”

Morgan raised an eyebrow. “Yes, that’s what Isabeau has called it. I’ve wondered if it might be one of the Deus Machinae, so I’ve been searching for references in various texts to try to find ways of breaking or dissolving the geas, but I haven’t had any luck yet. Why, do you know of it?”

“No, but when we were talking earlier, I realized I hadn’t heard Lord Azrael and his hounds on his Wild Hunt for a very long time. A very long time indeed. Perhaps even as long as you have been ensorcelled.” Robin tilted his head, and the feral gleam was back in his eyes. “I’ve listened for sounds of the Wild Hunt, you see. I thrill to hear it, even as I hide safely indoors.”

Morgan narrowed his gaze. “Just how old are you?”

“Old, sorcerer,” he said. “As old as you are, you are but a child to me.”