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He tried to lift his arm to block the glow, but couldn’t move any part of his body. He examined his limbs as best he could, but there was so much pain moving through every muscle he possessed, he could barely breathe. Was he chained up or something? Had Margetta captured him after all and now held him prisoner?
He felt nauseous and a second, very specific pain ran through his stomach and into his back. He writhed.
Help me, he called out. He tried to open his mouth, but couldn’t even manage that. Was anyone nearby?
Be at ease, Stone. I’m here.
His mind began giving shape to new images. He saw Queen Rosamunde, a beauty with long red hair, bending over him and caressing his face. Goddess, she was beautiful. For months now, he’d been attracted to her, even craved her at times. He’d never told anyone how drawn he was to the Queen of Ferrenden Peace. Yet he despised her for her arrogance and her unwillingness to use her considerable power against the Ancient Fae.
He met Rosamunde’s gaze or thought he did. Was he hallucinating? Why won’t you help the Nine Realms? You have the power necessary to defeat Margetta, but you won’t lift a finger. Why?
You’re wrong. I wish you weren’t, but you are. I don’t have my mother’s ability and I know you’ve never understood. But I truly don’t have enough power to defeat Margetta, not on my own.
He shook his head. The war will be lost because you must face her. I know it in my bones. He didn’t know why he was so intractable on the subject, except that he’d felt it from the beginning that she would be the one to vanquish the Ancient Fae.
She moved backward and vanished from sight. He realized he’d only imagined the encounter. Great. Hallucinations it was.
“I’m sorry, Aralynn. You must feed him.” Stone heard the man’s voice, but he didn’t recognize him. Whoever he was, he
was right. Stone needed blood from his donors.
He forced his lips apart and finally managed, “Get my doneuses.”
“There you see, Aralynn? He’s confirmed what must be done. Feed the mastyr or all is lost.” The man sounded stern now. Even adamant. But why should Aralynn be forced to donate?
A rough, high-pitched voice, though very male, broke in, “She’s selfish, that one.”
“Hush, Joseph. You’re not helping our cause, not when you had every intention of charging Aralynn for my healing powers. Pot and kettle, my good man.”
He blew a raspberry. “Just thinking of my future, is all.”
“You have more money than I do, than even the Queen.”
“But the wench I love, my dearest wife, wants more and more and more. You think I’m greedy? Try dealing with a female forest gremlin. Grabby, that lot.”
“Then why not divorce her?”
Another raspberry. “Like most men, I’m a slave to the needs of my cock. And Little Joseph needs her. No other woman will do.”
Stone heard the other man laugh. “I know the feeling well.”
Stone had an impression of size in the one man and a massive amount of power, more than even Stone. But Joseph, by the pitch of his voice, appeared to be the forest gremlin Aralynn had told him about. If only Stone could open his eyes.
Had he imagined Rosamunde?
More things returned to him. Of being at the mine near Charborne with Aralynn, then Margetta’s sudden appearance and her gold wind swirling everywhere. The Ancient Fae aimed her battle energy not at Stone, but at Aralynn. That’s what had happened. He’d moved like lightning to protect Aralynn and had gotten hit in the stomach. He remembered falling and thinking he would die. Then, nothing.
Now here he was. Aralynn must have saved him, though he had no idea how.
But where the hell had she taken him anyway? And who was the powerful man healing his wounds?
“Aralynn, you have to open a vein. The poison is in Mastyr Stone and only your blood can heal him.”
Stone understood. Margetta had delivered a terrible fae potion with her battle energy that now afflicted his entire body. Whatever the nature of the poison, it sent a wave of fire through his bones. He couldn’t prevent the groan that erupted from him.
“Blood…now….”
~ ~ ~
