Page 17 of Denied

“It doesn’t matter,” Kayla said. “Since she was born, Tara has been a slave to the Blackstones, just like the dragons. So I’m going to do what I would have if I’d known what was going on. I’m going to fight for her. I’m going to free her.”

CHAPTER 10

T HAT AFTERNOON JANNON carried the last of the jousting gear into the barn’s storage room, and held it as Kayla sorted it on the shelves. Though he was glad to be busy, there seemed little point.

“You needn’t bother,” he said. “’Tis unlikely we’ll perform here. Lawrence cannot hire mortals if they cannot enter the camp.”

“I have a feeling you guys are going to need to blow off some steam anyway.” She hung the last hind guard on a hook and surveyed her tidy arrangements. “Christine told me you healed Tara again. Thank you.”

He glanced down at his bandaged arm. “’ Twas naught but a scratch.” He saw how she was looking at him. “Wallace has declared me free of her magick. She controls me no longer, Rowe.”

“But you still want to go see her,” she guessed. “I feel the same pull. You want to love her, even when you don’t. You want my advice?”

He heaved a sigh. “Not especially, but you are a woman. You cannot help dispensing it.”

“Then here it is: stop hating yourself for being a nice guy.” She patted his shoulder. “I’m heading into town with Christine to pick up some fresh groceries and stuff. Do you need anything for your arm?”

“’Tis not so bad as that.”

As she headed out of the barn, Jannon tugged back the bandage around the wound to have a look, and went still when he saw the gash had vanished. He untied the cloth to press the unbroken skin, yet felt no pain. Something that Tara had told him before he’d healed her roared in his ears.

The clan cast this spell over me when I was a baby, after my father cut me out of my mother’s belly.

At the time Jannon had thought the claim just another lie. Even if the mother had been mortal, the Blackstones would never kill a female proven capable of bearing children for them. She would be impregnated over and over …unless…

“Bloody hell.” He trotted after Kayla. “Rowe, do you–” Though she stopped, he thought better of it. “Never mind.”

Despite her puzzled expression, he continued past her and headed for the blacksmith’s cottage.

Through the window Jannon saw Wallace sorting his tools on a table, and hesitated. If he went in and blurted out his suspicions the spelltracker would think him crazed. Quickly he wound the bandage around his arm before he knocked.

“Come in,” the smith called, and hefted a sledge when Jannon stepped inside. “Care to pound some steel with me, brother? I’ve three swords wanting new edges.”

“Another time.” Jannon paused to choose his words carefully. “There is something that puzzles me, Wallace. Colm had so many wounds he should have died at once beneath the Blackstones’ blades, but he lingered a time before he did. Why was that?”

“Longacre is strong as ten oxen, and he meant to shield Christine until she could be brought to safety.” Wallace put down the big hammer. “Why do you ask?”

“She had been beaten bloody before he went to save her,” Jannon reminded him. “Could her half-mortal blood somehow have kept him breathing a little longer?”

Wallace scowled. “Blood heals only Dark Fae, which Colm is not.”

“As you say.” Jannon began to pace as he tried to sort it out. “Mortals heal Fae and Dark Fae. Halflings may, too. We know Rowe has Fae blood, but she was able to heal Ryan.”

“That was with sex,” the smith pointed out, and then looked thoughtful. “Still, as a halfling she should not have been able to heal him so completely, or so quickly. ’Tis an interesting point. Perhaps it was their bond. Love is certainly more powerful than lust.”

Jannon folded his hands behind his back to hide the bandage. “What if Kayla or Christine had been half Dark Fae?”

Wallace shook his head. “‘Twould not have worked. Evil taints Dark Fae life energy. Our bodies will not absorb it. Longacre lives, and ‘tis all that matters.” Wallace came around the table and retrieved two bottles of ale from his cooler. “You cannot suspect either lady of being Dark Fae, brother. Christine has proven her Fae blood, and Kayla, too. Both fair shine with goodness.”

Jannon had spent weeks watching Tara while she had worked as Forever Faire’s seamstress. When she had not been sewing or repairing costumes for their performances, she had been fashioning garlands and wands to hand out to children. For all those times he had never once seen her use a straight edge, pattern or measure.

“Here.” The smith handed an ale to Jannon. “It will settle your prancing brain.”

“Not tonight.” He returned the bottle and headed for the door.

“Jan.” When he looked back, Wallace seemed startled. “I have never known you to refuse a drink. What are you about?”

“Using my wits for once.” He went out before the smith could reply.