Soul Magic by Karen Whiddon Read Free Book Online Page B

tone brooking no argument.  “And I want you to go with me.”
                  Geoffrey swallowed back the rest of his protest.  “Of course.”  As if there would be any doubt. 
                  Several others stepped forward.  “We would ride with you as well, my lord.”
                  Considering, Darrick shook his head.  “I cannot leave Thorncliff unprotected.  I will take four, plus Geoffrey.”  He singled out the men he wanted.  “The rest of you must stay here in case Morfran and his army try again.”
                  Alanna lifted her head.  “I will go.”
                  About to protest yet again, Geoffrey held his tongue when Darrick slowly nodded. 
                  “We will ride hard,” Darrick said, frowning. 
                  “I can do it,” she responded.  “I can also climb and fight and win.”
                  Now Geoffrey had heard enough.  “But can you follow orders?”
                  The green gaze she turned on him felt like ice.  “Whose orders?”
                  Darrick interjected.  “Mine.  He is right.  You must agree to do as I say.  Blindly rushing into battle can get us all killed.”
                  To Geoffrey’s disbelief she lifted her chin stubbornly.  “I want my son.”
                  “You are no good to him dead.  You must have patience.”
                  “Patience?”  She came closer, so close Geoffrey could smell the light floral scent she wore.  From the stricken look on Darrick’s chiseled face, he noticed this as well.
                  “How can you ask that I have patience when my son needs me?”
                  “Methinks `tis more that you need your son.  I’m sure Caradoc is well-tended.”
                  “Well-tended, you say?  Knowing what kind of man this Morfran is?”
                  “He will not harm his own son.”
                  “He rapes his own sister.”
                  Gaze stricken, Darrick swallowed.  Watching him, Geoffrey stepped forward.  “The man is vile, `tis true.  Still, for decades he has desired an heir.  Now that he has one, he will take pains to assure nothing endangers him.”
                  Her gaze swung from Geoffrey back to Darrick.
                  “He will not harm his own son,” Darrick repeated.  “Truly I believe this.”
                  “Assuming he knows Caradoc is his.”  She pursed her lips.  “He has no reason to know this.”
                  Darrick shook his head.  “Why else would he have taken him?”
                  She opened her mouth, then closed it.  “There is a legend, an ancient riddle.”  Reluctance colored her voice.  She looked at Geoffrey and the other men and lowered her voice.  What she said next made no sense to Geoffrey.
                  “Most interpret it to mean that a changeling son can restore the fading magic to my people.”
                  Darrick however, seemed to understand perfectly.  “And you think Caradoc might be this son?”
                  “No,” she sighed.  “If you and I had a child, the lines of Reagan and Tadhg would have blended.  This would be the bloodline necessary to bring about such a magical birth, an exceptional child.  Born of violence, Caradoc is not the one.”
                  Geoffrey rubbed his suddenly aching head.  Her strange words with unclear meanings leant further credence to the rumors he had heard before she left.  He became more certain Alanna was some sort of witch. 
                  But her words, incomprehensible as they might be, seemed fine with Darrick.  The other man, God bless his soul, appeared to know of what she spoke.  Not