Page 30 of Lady Tamsyn and the Pixie's Curse
Chapter7
Every fiberof her being recoiled from what was happening to her. Her skin crawled. Still, she walked on, following her father andRowancourt.
Her mind was her own, though, thank goodness, and though she fought as they made their way through the gardens, past the oak and into the forest, it took until they reached the stream before she regained control of hertongue.
“You willnotharm my father,” shebitout.
“Stars, but you are strong.” Rowancourt seemed almost delighted. “No, my dear. I will not harm your father. He has no taint of pixie magic, which means he is still of use to me. You on the other hand . . .” He let his wordstrailaway.
She would have closed her eyes, if she would not likely have fallen onherface.
“You’ll have to believe me when I tell you that I am conferring an honor on you. Never, in all of these years, have I chosen a woman as a substitute. I have been curious, to be sure, but my reluctance always won out. It wouldn’t be wise to choose an inferior sacrifice and how might it affect my regeneration? No way to know.” He cast an appraising glance over his shoulder. “But here you are, strong of will and mind, supple of body and already touched by magic.” He shrugged. “It seems time to experiment, if only to keep you from hounding me over the nextyears.”
Crossing the fallen log was terrifying, with no control over the placement of her feet. And when she reached the end, she did slip, landing with one foot in thestream.
Rowancourt looked back and smirked. “Stop there,” he commanded as she struggled up onto solid ground. “Stay until you are called.” He beckoned her father. “You come with me, but hold a moment while I prepare.” He waved his hands in the air and a rich cloak of grey appeared between them, flared high and settled over her shoulders. He moved to face the tangled snarl that hid the barrow and said something low totheearl.
She jumped when Paul popped in next to her. She had to strain to see him from the corner ofhereye.
“Thank heavens,” she breathed. “Help me! Is there anything youcando?”
“I don’t think so,” he saidmiserably.
“Please.” She struggled against Rowancourt’s hold. “Can you getGryff?”
“He’s alreadycoming!”
She breathed a sigh of relief. Across the meadow, Rowancourt raised his hands and spoke something she didn’t understand. The complicated twist of foliage shuddered, then parted like a curtain, exposing the barrow and the small clearingbeforeit.
Tuft stood in themiddle.
“Who is that?” her father asked affably and Tamsyn groaned.Nowhebelieved?
Tuft’s expression lit up. He raised his hand but Rowancourt drew something from his cloak and tossed it at the pixie. It bounced high off of his hat, shining like a coin and then sprouted quicker than the eye could follow, becoming a metal cage that completelysurroundedTuft.
“Oh, ho!” Rowancourt crowed. “So longhave I waited to use that! So much work to perfect it!” He sighed in dramatic fashion. “And every effort wellworthit.”
Tuft struggled. He clapped his hands, but nothing happened. He touched a bar and recoiledatonce.
“It’s iron, of course, you old fool. Your magic isnulled.”
“You call me an old fool? You are the one who has committed atrocities in your quest for more years on this earth—and accomplished nothing with them.” Tuft shook his head. “That is beyond foolish. It istragic.”
“Wait. Paul!” Tamsyn exclaimed softly. “I think I have it! I need you tocallme!”
“What?”
“Stay until you are called, that’s what he said. It might work! Go back—back to the woods behind us, and call me—quietly!”
“I’ll try.” Hepoppedout.
“We cannot let this continue,” Tuft was saying. “You pollute our home with your evil deeds, warp our magic with your dark sorcery. We will find a way tostopyou.”
Rowancourtlaughed.
“Tamsyn!” Paul’s voice floated softly from the forest. “Tamsyn!”
Watching Rowancourt carefully, she struggled against the spell. The call came again, her name on the wind and—there! She moved her head, just thesmallestbit.
