and hands, fingers clawing into the fur of the thick rug.
Spent, the woman crumpled to her side.
The magical strands binding Shaw disappeared and his momentum against them jerked him forward to fall on his face.
Aldreth’s head snapped up, close to his. Her eyes were wild and dark. “Help me. Something’s wrong. ‘Tisna working.”
It was all wrong. Shaw shuddered under the sick feel of the magic slicking the air around them. Whatever witch’s spell Aldreth had conjured, ‘twas a bad one. The greater the spell, the greater the price to pay. ‘Twas always thus whenever witches were involved. Blood leaked from his nose.
“Stop fighting me and help me,” she groaned.
‘Twas too late anyway. She’d taken the baby, but mayhap he could still spare one life. “Then give me the woman.”
Anger flared behind Aldreth’s eyes, but the lines beside her mouth were white with pain and she nodded.
Shaw immediately let go of his end of the tug-of-war they’d been playing with his magic and let her have it. It pooled from him like a river suddenly undammed. He yanked back on it, trying to get control, to guide it to where it needed to go to help the unborn child, rather than let it be consumed by this terrible awful spell Aldreth’s unstable mind had unleashed.
The magic was slippery, unwieldy to manage and he was so so tired, his energy all but gone. Yet he had to do this, had to do what he could to spare this child.
Shaking with exertion, he managed to guide his silver moonlit threads away from the entwining roiling darkness and steer it to the witch, focusing on the pain emanating from her stomach and within to the small spark of life. Nay, not one. Two lives. Twins. The woman had carried two children and Aldreth had unwittingly taken them both. He could feel them, their small hearts in sync, yet slowing, the shock of being ripped from their mother’s womb taking its toll.
He was no Healer, yet he did what he could, coaxing the small life essences to grasp hold of what he offered and live.
He wasn’t sure when it happened, or when he felt it, but something changed. The turmoil in the air shifted, the magic dissipated and everything quieted.
At the end of his endurance—physical, mental, emotional, magical—Shaw slumped forward into blackness.
Chapter Eight
Shaw woke up on the cold floor. The fire in the hearth was out. Aldreth was gone and the poor pregnant woman lay unmoving on the furs where she had slumped over. No, that wasn’t right. She was no longer with child. With children.
But did she still live?
Pushing up on his hands, still shaky, Shaw crawled to her and passed a palm along her throat until he felt a flutter of life.
Relieved, he closed his eyes and sat still for a moment, waiting for the tremors in his muscles to still.
He climbed to his knees and gathered her in his arms. She moaned, her head lolling toward him. “My babe…” He lowered his head to hear her. “My baby…”
Shaw stiffened, his heart aching for her. She did not know she carried twins. “Shhhh, all’s well. Ye’re safe now.” His throat closed, choking off any assurances he could give her about her child. He could offer her no comfort there. “I’ll take ye home.”
Getting to his feet took monumental effort, but he did not dare leave the woman without care for much longer, care she would never receive within the castle walls.
With every step, Shaw worried his legs might buckle. Since leaving Aldreth’s dungeons, he hadn’t felt as wretched as this. Padding through the silent corridors and remaining upright took every ounce of perseverance he had and when he stepped through the doors and into the regenerating moonlight, he felt like weeping.
He straightened. He couldn’t afford to show that weakness to the watching guards. Shifting the woman more comfortably in his arms, he followed the starlit path into the forest toward her village.
Every step he feared would be his last, but he kept going, resolved
Spent, the woman crumpled to her side.
The magical strands binding Shaw disappeared and his momentum against them jerked him forward to fall on his face.
Aldreth’s head snapped up, close to his. Her eyes were wild and dark. “Help me. Something’s wrong. ‘Tisna working.”
It was all wrong. Shaw shuddered under the sick feel of the magic slicking the air around them. Whatever witch’s spell Aldreth had conjured, ‘twas a bad one. The greater the spell, the greater the price to pay. ‘Twas always thus whenever witches were involved. Blood leaked from his nose.
“Stop fighting me and help me,” she groaned.
‘Twas too late anyway. She’d taken the baby, but mayhap he could still spare one life. “Then give me the woman.”
Anger flared behind Aldreth’s eyes, but the lines beside her mouth were white with pain and she nodded.
Shaw immediately let go of his end of the tug-of-war they’d been playing with his magic and let her have it. It pooled from him like a river suddenly undammed. He yanked back on it, trying to get control, to guide it to where it needed to go to help the unborn child, rather than let it be consumed by this terrible awful spell Aldreth’s unstable mind had unleashed.
The magic was slippery, unwieldy to manage and he was so so tired, his energy all but gone. Yet he had to do this, had to do what he could to spare this child.
Shaking with exertion, he managed to guide his silver moonlit threads away from the entwining roiling darkness and steer it to the witch, focusing on the pain emanating from her stomach and within to the small spark of life. Nay, not one. Two lives. Twins. The woman had carried two children and Aldreth had unwittingly taken them both. He could feel them, their small hearts in sync, yet slowing, the shock of being ripped from their mother’s womb taking its toll.
He was no Healer, yet he did what he could, coaxing the small life essences to grasp hold of what he offered and live.
He wasn’t sure when it happened, or when he felt it, but something changed. The turmoil in the air shifted, the magic dissipated and everything quieted.
At the end of his endurance—physical, mental, emotional, magical—Shaw slumped forward into blackness.
Chapter Eight
Shaw woke up on the cold floor. The fire in the hearth was out. Aldreth was gone and the poor pregnant woman lay unmoving on the furs where she had slumped over. No, that wasn’t right. She was no longer with child. With children.
But did she still live?
Pushing up on his hands, still shaky, Shaw crawled to her and passed a palm along her throat until he felt a flutter of life.
Relieved, he closed his eyes and sat still for a moment, waiting for the tremors in his muscles to still.
He climbed to his knees and gathered her in his arms. She moaned, her head lolling toward him. “My babe…” He lowered his head to hear her. “My baby…”
Shaw stiffened, his heart aching for her. She did not know she carried twins. “Shhhh, all’s well. Ye’re safe now.” His throat closed, choking off any assurances he could give her about her child. He could offer her no comfort there. “I’ll take ye home.”
Getting to his feet took monumental effort, but he did not dare leave the woman without care for much longer, care she would never receive within the castle walls.
With every step, Shaw worried his legs might buckle. Since leaving Aldreth’s dungeons, he hadn’t felt as wretched as this. Padding through the silent corridors and remaining upright took every ounce of perseverance he had and when he stepped through the doors and into the regenerating moonlight, he felt like weeping.
He straightened. He couldn’t afford to show that weakness to the watching guards. Shifting the woman more comfortably in his arms, he followed the starlit path into the forest toward her village.
Every step he feared would be his last, but he kept going, resolved
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