I change and lie down on the bed, weary. I spend the last part of the day reflecting on everything I have seen and everything Rhauk has said. The man is not only a talented magician, he is tainted with madness. The proof of his magic is everywhere. I can’t dismiss it. His gardens are unbelievable, rows upon rows of exotic fruits and vegetables, most of which grow out of season, some that have no rights at all growing under a cold British sun. And how clever to invent a cursed wine. A sweet wine for a stingy Lord; Richard’s own greed the family’s eventual downfall. Thorntyne family members will drink the wine regularly for the rest of their lives, oblivious to the fact that it has in it the ability to affect their very genes, causing inherent clumsiness in generations to follow. But the real power in the curse is its ability to lie dormant until the seventh-born son. That is the magic in it, and the misfortune that accompanies that child and all his family members.
It’s this very reason Jarrod and I are here in this time period. But what price will we have to pay to stop this curse? Our lives? Jarrod will surely die if he challenges Rhauk. And I, well my whole life will be a total waste. I’ll never be able to return home. Never see Jillian again. The very thought of living the rest of my life at Blacklands, with Rhauk, is so unbearable it brings tears to my eyes. I blink and sniff them away.
The sun is rapidly sinking behind a distant gold-streaked horizon. Rhauk will soon come for my answer. I have to make a choice, but what choice do I have really? In my heart I realise there is only one way. I just have to convince Jarrod to return home to Jillian – without me. At least this way the curse will be stopped, and one of us can continue with our normal lives.
A part of me inside dies with this realisation. But what other way is there to stop this dangerous curse? Rhauk’s powers are too strong for either Jarrod or me. But choosing to stay here at Blacklands satisfies Rhauk’s need for revenge.
He will not give the gift of wine.
The price for Jarrod’s freedom is to be my imprisonment.
Jarrod
Richard is right. He warned me that Blacklands is protected by Rhauk’s witchcraft. Still, he did accompany me this morning, along with Malcolm, Thomas and a dozen of his best knights. But it turned out a pointless exercise. Blacklands’ gates will not open without Rhauk’s permission, the gates and walls are warded under a protective spell.
On returning to Thorntyne Keep Richard talks me into breaking our fast in the Great Hall. I have no appetite but last night’s battle has left me weak. Morgana stitched the wound in my neck where the Rhauk-Crow dug his beak, and put herbal antiseptic on the talon scratches on my back.
I’m so worried about Kate in Rhauk’s castle, my stomach can’t stop churning. I can think of nothing except getting her back. Food is like cardboard in my mouth. But I force myself to eat to build my strength. Of course I know that physical strength alone is not going to be enough to get Kate back. I need the strength my gift can give me. And it has to be more than just the ability to create strong wind. I need magic.
Kate believes I have it. It’s time now for me to face the truth, accept my gift, and train. And for this I must have Richard’s understanding. These people are deeply suspicious of the paranormal. It’s part of the reason they hate Rhauk so much. Besides the fact that he wants their lands, they know he’s an accomplished sorcerer of the black arts, and this terrifies them. I don’t want to end up in their dungeon, or worse, dead, leaving Kate stranded at Blacklands forever.
I begin tentatively. ‘I have to challenge Rhauk.’
Richard thumps his fist on the table while still holding a pig’s shank. ‘Impossible! Do you think we have not tried?’
I sense his concern for me. I’m family, and that means a lot to him. I hope he remembers this after I explain. ‘With your help, my Lord, I can beat him at his own game.’
‘Rhauk is a sorcerer!’ Malcolm is sitting on his father’s other side. ‘How do you suppose to outwit him, cousin?’
It’s the opening I need. ‘With his own fire. Magic.’
The table goes dead still. Even Isabel, who joins us for some conversation, looks startled. ‘Surely, you jest.’
I look at both Richard and Isabel. Even though Richard is the Lord, he looks to his wife for many decisions. ‘I don’t mean to frighten anyone. I understand my gift now and I would never harm you. I just want to fight Rhauk and get Katherine back.’
Malcolm pushes out from the table and glares at me, pointing a long finger. ‘Sorcerer! You’re the one who caused the windstorms! One time here in the Hall, and last night in the tower.’