Highland Sorcerer by Clover Autrey Read Free Book Online Page B

he’d
been able to close it. The bands on his wrists probably had
something to do with why the rift remained open. Though they were
not on him now since nothing inorganic could go through a space
rift, they were still spelled to him, the glowing symbols keeping
him a prisoner as securely as if they were tattooed upon his
flesh.
    Charity clutched his arms more tightly
as though touching him would keep him with her, even knowing it was
his magic hers needed to stay in contact with.
    Toren's muscles bunched beneath her
hands. His arms shook. His jaw clenched tight, head thrown
forward.
    Time was out.
    “ Trust me. Toren.
Please!"
    He didn't respond. His head bobbed.
Charity couldn't be certain if that was a nod or simply a jerk
against pain.
    She thrust her hand upon his chest
again and followed the pathway she'd made down to the core of his
magic. And took some of it to herself for a better hold. Or at
least tried to. He wasn't freely giving it to her this time, and
there was no way she could get at it without his consent. A
person’s magic had to be freely given, not taken. It was one of the
few built-in safety guards that existed among all magic.
    All she could do was hold onto
his.
    “ Please, Toren, trust
me.”
    He was in so much pain, fighting her
while also fighting the pull of Aldreth’s link to him that was
dragging him back. She could feel the depth of his agony in the
tightening of his muscles, yet could do nothing about it. He’d come
for her help and now she couldn’t even give it in this. She had
screwed up royally.
    “ Toren,” she
pled.
    His eyes flashed to hers, intensely
blue. He nodded. Charity didn’t know what had changed his mind or
if he was simply taking a risky chance upon her, but all at once
his barrier came down and he no longer fought to keep her
out.
    Her magic grabbed a hold of his and
drew upon it, feasting upon its strength and enhancing her
own.
    The air charged with static. Her bones
vibrated with it. Her teeth hurt. This was happening.
Now.
    Bearing down against it, Charity
lowered her head and began chanting.
    She didn't have strong enough magic to
travel through centuries or open rifts into time and space, but he
did. Toren did.
    Just like when she had healed him,
Charity tapped into his endless reserves and drew what she needed
to her. What she needed to survive what was coming.
    Images cascaded into her mind. The
dungeon, Aldreth, beautiful in whorls of white. Toren, hanging from
those damn bespelled bands against the wall, dirty and in so much
distress, his pain assaulted her across the centuries.
    "No." The Toren before her rasped. His
hand circled her wrist tight enough to bruise though his flesh
faded in and out. He would soon be gone.
    "Trust me," she cried, and his eyes
snapped to her, penetrating her soul as forcefully as the charged
energy of the time spell weaving around them and magic poured into
her, his magic, flowing as strongly as if Toren had dumped a
pitcher of it over her head.
    She damn near choked on the rush of it.
And greedily took what he gave. Her grandmother's spell rolled off
her tongue, a chant that matched the thunderous rhythm of her
heartbeat. A short verse, really. She wasn’t even sure if the spell
was necessary. To her knowledge no one had ever attempted this
before. It may not be possible. She repeated the spell over and
over again, clutching at the words as hard as she clutched at the
man's arms. The arms that were fading in and out beneath
hers.
    She was losing him.
    Nooooooo.
    Charity clawed onto his magic like it
was a tangible thing.
    Where he goes, I
go .
    And his hands locked around her wrists,
solid and sure.
    Air swirled around them. The curtains
above the sink pulled from the wall, rod and all. Appliances flew
off the counters, crashing against walls. Toren yanked her down as
a chair sailed over their heads. Her little iron bistro table fell
to its side and scraped across the linoleum, splattering the soup.
Everything was spinning