Enchantment by Nina Croft Page B

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    She sensed the moment when they reentered Arroway and knew Tallon felt it as well since his fingers tightened in hers. They had done it. They were home. She could smell the familiar air, feel the warmth on her skin.
    At the last minute, something changed. A force tugged her, gently at first, but the more she struggled against it, the stronger the pull became. She tried to hold on to Tallon, screaming his name in panic as she was wrenched from his grasp. She fought with every cell in her body.
    “I’ll find you,” Tallon roared, but the words were scattered.
    She had one final glimpse of his face, and then she was engulfed by darkness.
    ~*~
    Slowly, she dragged herself back from oblivion. She lay on her side on what appeared to be fine sand. The grains stuck to her cheek as she pushed herself up and peered around her. Nothing was familiar, she had no clue where she was, and she didn’t recognize her surroundings.
    The world was gray, as though all the colors had been filtered.
    There was something she needed to do, something important, but she couldn’t remember what. She squeezed her eyes shut, and a face flashed across her mind. Dark hair, sharp cheekbones, eyes the deep purple of the sky as the suns went down. Her mind reached out to hold on to him, but he was gone. Inside her head, she screamed, but no sound came out.
    A deep sense of loss filled her, but couldn’t make her mind focus. The more she tried to concentrate the more her thoughts blurred.
    Sensing the presence of someone new, she forced her lids open. A pair of long legs in black pants and knee-length boots stood in her line of vision. She pushed herself up onto her elbows wincing as a sharp pain cut across her forehead and backward through her skull.
    She held herself still until the pain faded, then lifted her hand up to her head and felt the wet stickiness of blood. She must have hit herself as she crash-landed.
    “Are you all right?” The voice was hoarse, rusty as though left unused for a long time. Her gaze flicked up to look at the man who spoke. She didn’t recognize him, but then maybe he’d been wiped from her mind along with so much else. Why was she here? Where had she been going? There was something she needed to do, but she couldn’t remember what. The questions battered her already-aching head.
    When she didn’t answer, a hand reached down and clasped her upper arm, pulling her up so she sat with her back leaning against the rough rock. The man remained crouched beside her, studying her, and she stared up at his face, searching for something familiar. His fair hair fell to his shoulders; his eyes were gray and close enough that she could see the ring of black circling his irises. He had high cheekbones and a finely sculpted mouth held in a stern line. And she was quite sure she had never seen him in her entire life.
    Her head swam and she lowered her lashes and waited for the world to settle. A finger stroked her cheek and her eyes flew open.
    “You’re not Casterix, but you bear the mark.” She winced again. She hated the mark; she might not remember who she was, but she knew that much, so all wasn’t forgotten.
    The mark labeled her a witch for everyone to see. And a witch was not a good thing on Arroway these days.
    “It’s been so long,” he continued. “Maybe you’re Casterix reborn. What is your name?” She had no clue, and the harder she tried to remember, the more her head hurt. “I don’t know.”
    “No matter. You have been sent to me for a reason.”
    “Sent?” She frowned. “No, I wasn’t sent.”
    “It’s meant to be. We are meant to be.” His voice grew stronger, and she could hear the conviction in his tone.
    Something wasn’t right, but weakness tugged at her mind, and she didn’t fight when he reached out and took her in his arms.
    He straightened, holding her cradled across his broad chest. A sense of foreboding filled her, but strangely, by contradiction, she felt safe. No harm would come