Enchantment by Nina Croft Page A

trees reached through the mist to the sky. The dark tower where he made his home had formed out of the black rock.
    His mind wandered. These days he found it hard to focus, to even remember why he was here. He knew he was no longer entirely sane, and each day drove him closer to madness.
    He shouldn’t be here. He had in fact died, but his love hadn’t allowed him to leave. She’d dragged him back from the land of the dead and dropped him somewhere in between, to a place where he didn’t so much live as exist while time flowed around him.
    Casterix must be dead. She wouldn’t have left him to languish here had she still life in her body. She had chosen him.
    In front of him, flat on the ground, lay a mirror, his one contact with the outside. Through it, he caught glimpses of other worlds.
    Occasionally, people would appear briefly and then be gone. He lived for those moments. They were the one thing that kept him going in his strange half-life.
    Now, he lowered his head so he could look down into the silver depths. Sometimes all the glass showed was the reflection of his face. He hated to see the encroaching madness in his eyes.
    But today was one of the good days. His image faded, the mirror cleared, and in the polished surface a figure shifted. A woman, standing in the center of a circle of tall stones. It was nighttime, and a single moon hung in the sky. Not Arroway then.
    Callum studied her hungrily. Her figure was indistinct in the dim light, and he forced his mind to focus his limited powers on the mirror. Slowly her face gained definition, though the rest of her remained lost in a haze of mist. He could see the curve of her cheek and the dark red mark that showed stark against the pale skin.He jerked back, breaking his concentration, and the image wavered. No, it couldn’t have been.
    Forcing his gaze downward, he stared into the mirror. Nothing showed and terror rose up in his throat. Had he found her only to lose her again? He touched a trembling finger to the silver and the surface rippled and cleared.
    There she was.
    He breathed again. Taking in a deep gulp of air, he steadied his mind, and studied her. Her head was downcast, the rest of her indistinct, just an impression of long, dark hair. He willed her to look up, holding himself motionless as though she might sense him and run. Finally, she lifted her head, and his gaze feasted on the only thing that had any meaning, the mark on her right cheekbone beneath her eye. A perfect sickle moon.
    Casterix.
    Did she still live? After a thousand years, was it possible? Hope and fear warred inside him, followed swiftly by a flash of self-doubt. Was this just another sign of his approaching insanity? He studied her avidly, willing her to see him. Instead, she turned away to gaze at something or someone beside her. Her expression filled with love, and his rage awoke.
    She had sent him here with her magic. One thousand years alone. Waiting for a glimpse of her and now, she gazed at another with the love that should be his.
    Mine! The word roared in his head.
    She was his. She had chosen him. And that bond lasted for eternity, transcended even death. As his fury rose, the magic stirred inside him. He groped for his staff and wrapped his fingers around the wood, while muttering the words of a spell.
    In the mirror, something was changing. Not his spell. Not yet.
    Crimson lightning flickered on the dark sky, and then a blinding white light rent a hole above her. She vanished.
    He threw back his head and screamed. No, he wouldn’t let her go. She was his. He could still find her.
    Lowering his lids, he concentrated his mind on the last image of her and called her to him. He found her easily and chanted the summoning spell.
    ~*~
    Shayla gripped tight onto Tallon’s hand. His warm palm comforted her as the sky opened above them and they were drawn into chaos. Maybe because she was expecting it, this time she stayed conscious as she was pulled from one world into the