conversation, only minutes after nearly dying of frostbite. Then again, there was much about what had happened to her lately that she found difficult to believe.
His eyes narrowed in speculation. "A princess of Faerie."
"No." Megan said again, beseeching him with her gaze to believe her. "I’m human, as human as you are. I don't know anything about magic or faeries or any of that. And I was only teasing, er jesting, about being a queen."
"As human as I?" Kenric's voice dripped ice.
She swallowed as another thought occurred to her. "You are human, aren't you?"
Though he gave a slow nod, his frozen expression told her something was terribly wrong.
Again, the chill of the air began to seep once more into her bones. Megan shivered and cast a look of longing towards the place that had, moments earlier, seemed so welcoming and safe.
Magical , he'd said. She really wanted to see this magic stuff for herself, especially if it would get her warm. After all, maybe someone with a little bit of magic power could help her to get home. Maybe even help her with the problem of Roger once she got there.
She wanted to go to this Faerie, this place behind the veil. But how to convince Kenric to take her there without him thinking she was some sort of faerie herself?
Lancelot solved that problem neatly. The huge war horse, snorted once, then took the bit in his teeth and began lumbering toward the wall of trees.
Kenric cursed, pulling back on the reins. It made no difference - the horse ignored all of Kenric's efforts to make him stop.
"You." Turning to pin Megan with a furious gaze, Kenric put one hand on the hilt of his sword. "You had something to do with this, did you not?"
If looks could kill...
"No, I swear to you, I didn't. How could I?" she pleaded with him to understand, "I've never been on a horse in my life. I wouldn't even know how to make Lancelot move."
Again he shot her that icy glare. "My war horse carries no name. Cease calling him Lancelot."
Lancelot came to the wall of trees. Instead of stopping, he plowed right into them. To Megan, it came as no surprise that the trees seemed to part, as if a powerful hand guided them, allowing them entrance.
Grim faced, Kenric fell silent and Lancelot, no longer plodding, seemed to prance as they entered the magical place.
Where, Megan saw immediately with no small measure of relief, it was summer, bright blazing sunshine, blue skies, and all.
Kenric, uttering a muffled oath, crossed himself. Behind them, the wall of trees seemed to straighten and reform, blocking out the snowstorm.
"You'd best pray, my lady." His voice sounded bitter.
Trying to restrain her delight, Megan loosened the heavy cloak and held her hands up to the brilliant sun. "For what?"
The look he gave her was angry, mingled with pity and disbelief. "Have you not heard the tales of mortals who wandered in to the land of Faerie? `Tis said years pass whilst they, unknowing, are bound by enchantment."
He lowered his voice, his eyes sharp, taking note of all around them. "Some never make it back."
Since what he said was too close to her present situation for comfort, Megan trembled. For the first time she wondered what she would do if it was not possible for her to go back home, back to Dallas in 2010. Where she had electricity, a snazzy new red BMW convertible, and Roger.
The thought of her
His eyes narrowed in speculation. "A princess of Faerie."
"No." Megan said again, beseeching him with her gaze to believe her. "I’m human, as human as you are. I don't know anything about magic or faeries or any of that. And I was only teasing, er jesting, about being a queen."
"As human as I?" Kenric's voice dripped ice.
She swallowed as another thought occurred to her. "You are human, aren't you?"
Though he gave a slow nod, his frozen expression told her something was terribly wrong.
Again, the chill of the air began to seep once more into her bones. Megan shivered and cast a look of longing towards the place that had, moments earlier, seemed so welcoming and safe.
Magical , he'd said. She really wanted to see this magic stuff for herself, especially if it would get her warm. After all, maybe someone with a little bit of magic power could help her to get home. Maybe even help her with the problem of Roger once she got there.
She wanted to go to this Faerie, this place behind the veil. But how to convince Kenric to take her there without him thinking she was some sort of faerie herself?
Lancelot solved that problem neatly. The huge war horse, snorted once, then took the bit in his teeth and began lumbering toward the wall of trees.
Kenric cursed, pulling back on the reins. It made no difference - the horse ignored all of Kenric's efforts to make him stop.
"You." Turning to pin Megan with a furious gaze, Kenric put one hand on the hilt of his sword. "You had something to do with this, did you not?"
If looks could kill...
"No, I swear to you, I didn't. How could I?" she pleaded with him to understand, "I've never been on a horse in my life. I wouldn't even know how to make Lancelot move."
Again he shot her that icy glare. "My war horse carries no name. Cease calling him Lancelot."
Lancelot came to the wall of trees. Instead of stopping, he plowed right into them. To Megan, it came as no surprise that the trees seemed to part, as if a powerful hand guided them, allowing them entrance.
Grim faced, Kenric fell silent and Lancelot, no longer plodding, seemed to prance as they entered the magical place.
Where, Megan saw immediately with no small measure of relief, it was summer, bright blazing sunshine, blue skies, and all.
Kenric, uttering a muffled oath, crossed himself. Behind them, the wall of trees seemed to straighten and reform, blocking out the snowstorm.
"You'd best pray, my lady." His voice sounded bitter.
Trying to restrain her delight, Megan loosened the heavy cloak and held her hands up to the brilliant sun. "For what?"
The look he gave her was angry, mingled with pity and disbelief. "Have you not heard the tales of mortals who wandered in to the land of Faerie? `Tis said years pass whilst they, unknowing, are bound by enchantment."
He lowered his voice, his eyes sharp, taking note of all around them. "Some never make it back."
Since what he said was too close to her present situation for comfort, Megan trembled. For the first time she wondered what she would do if it was not possible for her to go back home, back to Dallas in 2010. Where she had electricity, a snazzy new red BMW convertible, and Roger.
The thought of her
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