Silent Storm (4 page)

It was like receiving a gift for once, instead of being the one to bestow it.

His head broke the surface and he rolled to his back to allow the sun to warm his skin. Cradled in the waves, Matt released the last of his troubles, crying out like a penitent in a confessional. He didn’t want to lose Laurin. He feared she would choose her own people if given the chance. He didn’t want to return to being alone, unloved except for what he could provide through his magic.

The water washed away his fears. Accepted them, acknowledged them, but then fed him back enough magic to soothe him inside.

He was not alone. Never, was he ever alone. A million voices of the People of the Sea carried to him, blurring together along the water’s surface. Beneath the waves, the non-shifting kin called to him as well—the dolphins in their pods, otters and the seals, and far to the north the sea lions and even the great whales. They didn’t understand his worries about
alone
.

They were always there.

He gave thanks for their love and comfort, and turned to swim for the
Stormchild.
A spark of inspiration hit—and his heart grew lighter with hope. He would do what was right, but he would also do everything he could to make his dream a reality. That included fighting to keep Laurin in his life.

Matt reached the ship, his mind finally clear and his soul far more peaceful than when he’d left. The slap of the rope ladder as it hit the hull drew his attention upward to see Laurin’s concerned face staring over at him. He made the wobbly ascent to reach the deck only to be attacked by a huge fluffy towel and a death grip of a hug.

She clung to him, the warmth of her body bleeding through the towel and heating him. Even more, the strength of her grip on his shoulders as she stared into his face, the concern in her eyes and then the meaningful kiss she planted on his lips—it hit him forcefully, and he accepted it as another blessing.

Then she made a fist and thumped him on the chest, hard, and he swore.

“What was that for?”

“You scared me to death.” She pushed him away, arms crossed in front of her, chin tilted defiantly. “What the hell was that all about? You raced out of here like the devil himself was on your heels.”

She was right—he’d been chased by the devil’s curse of jealousy. Matt dried himself, looking around quickly for their guest and not seeing him anywhere. “I’ll explain in a second. Where’s Kallen gone?”

“He’s sitting at the prow. I can’t talk to him in human form, and your reaction to his arrival scared me enough I wasn’t about to shift when you weren’t here. I still don’t understand what is going on.”

“I’ll explain. First, let me do what I can for your friend.”

Matt found his discarded shorts on the deck and pulled them on before he called out Kallen’s name. A golden head appeared over the roof of the wheelhouse. Matt pointed before him. “Come. Let me see if I can lift this curse.”

The giant bird landed on the deck and Matt knelt at his side.

“Do you need me to do anything?” Laurin asked.

Matt gestured her back. “Stay out of range. I don’t sense anything malicious attached to the curse other than it’s blocking his ability to change, but just in case.”

A soft kiss landed on his shoulder followed by the sound of her footfalls as she slipped into the wheelhouse where she could watch and remain protected. He smiled at her. Laurin kissed her fingers and he sensed her good wishes.

Before him the eagle cried, soft and low. Matt laid his hands on Kallen’s head and gathered his magic, wrapping it in a circle around the two of them to protect and contain whatever might burst forth as the curse was lifted.

Within the sphere, moisture gathered—a component of his water magic. He drew from his abilities to attempt to wash clean the curse, peeling away layer after layer like a rotten wallpapering job. Clumsy, some of the layers. Others brilliantly applied. All of them foul with ill-intent and the desire to cause Kallen harm.

Time meant nothing. Matt focused completely. On giving from his soul, being who he was supposed to be. By the time his task was accomplished, Matt was sweating profusely, the eagle shaking under his hands. The crisp texture of feathers morphed slowly into slick skin. Kallen gasped with pain. Matt rested his hands on the man’s broad shoulders as the shifter returned to his human form, crouching naked on the deck.

They both panted for air, bodies worn from the process as Matt removed the protective circle from around them. Kallen clasped wrists with him, the firm hold allowing them both to stand slowly, providing each other support that Matt wasn’t happy to need. He stared up at the air shifter who had at least four inches on him in height.

Matt offered a greeting, hoping to put aside his initial response. “Welcome back, brother. How do you feel?”

The other man took a deep breath and let it go. His mouth opened and—no sound came out. The relieved expression on Kallen’s face vanished as he attempted to speak and remained mute.

Shit
. Matt held out a hand to the man, waiting for his permission. Kallen nodded, and Matt pressed his fingers to Kallen’s throat, feeling for any lingering damage caused by the curse. There was nothing at first, nothing that would make him suspicious, but as Matt continued his investigation, he discovered there was another layer to the curse still remaining. Something strong and complicated, with a sense of both the ocean and the mountains combined.

“Kallen, who did this to you?” Matt asked.

Kallen gestured helplessly.

“Matt? What’s happening?”

The concern in her voice was back and Matt motioned urgently. “Go below, and find a pad of paper or something.”

As Laurin scrambled for something to write on, Kallen held out a hand. It was a peace offering if he’d ever seen one. A way of showing his gratitude, and willingness to let Matt take charge.

Now if only Matt didn’t want to tell the man to leave immediately. The complication of keeping the air shifter around any longer than necessary played havoc on Matt’s only recently calmed jealous streak.

“Who among the air clans could have cursed Kallen—with enough power that the curse is multilayered and more than your average shaman can cure?” Matt asked Laurin as she returned, passing the writing pad to the air shifter.

“Someone high ranking? Kallen is in line to lead the Assiniboine people. Well, him or his brother.”

“The brother you were afraid of? Who I fought back in June?” He felt her tense even as he reminded her.

“Yes, the same. Only Kallen isn’t anything like Kilade. If I had to trust anyone, it would be Kallen. When I was young, he stopped the taunting more than once when my family visited his. My grandfather made us stop over at all the tribes every year. Since we didn’t know why I was
Hawáte,
able to boost other’s powers, he insisted I learn everything possible about all the People of the Air.”

Matt ignored that for a minute, focusing on the issue of Kallen. “His father—would he be powerful enough to arrange this curse?”

Kallen grasped Matt’s hand again and shook his head.

“Not your father…but someone from your tribe?”

Kallen turned to the pad of paper but before his pen touched the page, Laurin spoke up.

“It was Kilade, wasn’t it?”

A curt nod. The air shifter’s shoulders drooped, his massive body full of misery.

They sat in silence at the tiny portable table on the deck, Kallen folding his bulk behind one side, Laurin to his right. Matt watched warily as he took a seat only a foot away. Kallen’s gaze seemed to flick back to Laurin involuntarily time and time again.

The layers of curse within the curse—Matt had never experienced such a thing before. He knew it was possible, but the casting would have taken a huge toll on the person. He highly doubted Kilade had the power on his own—he must have convinced others to assist him, including someone from the People of the Sea. With two or more people establishing the curse, it was incredibly complex.

And the cure? Virtually impossible.

Laurin touched Kallen’s shoulder—just the touch of commiseration. Matt had seen her do that same thing to a child when offering comfort from a fall or during a difficult lesson. The pain cut hard though, and he had to bite his tongue to stop from ordering her to get her hands off the man. They looked so connected. Even with the variation in their coloring—hers light, his dark—it was obvious they were both of the air clans.

He closed his eyes and tried to find that peace. The offering of the ocean he’d only so recently received.

“Can you tell us anything else about what happened? Or why you’ve come to us? How did you know where to find me?” Laurin asked all the right questions, and Matt let her take charge. Partly drained from his earlier healing, he let himself mentally drift as he waited. Kallen’s pen scratched lightly on the page.

He wasn’t sure how long he had been daydreaming. The touch of Laurin’s hand on his made him open his eyes. He clasped her fingers tight, not wanting to let go. She smiled, squeezing back before pushing the pad of paper his direction. As Matt moved to read the message, Laurin touched Kallen’s shoulder again to get his attention.

“We’ll do what we can to help you, I promise.” The familiar cool wash of Laurin’s magic flashed in a new and unexpected manner, lighting them with a bright incandescence that left spots before Matt’s eyes. She shot to her feet in an instant, back against the mast, fear on her face. “What was that? Was that…me?”

He’d never felt her power react like that before. She always insisted she didn’t have magic of her own, just the ability to bolster another’s. Not once in the past two months during their experimenting had she ever initiated anything he couldn’t do on his own. It had to be her responding to something—in Kallen?

Cold dread poured into Matt’s heart. He stared at Kallen in horror.

“What did your brother do to you?” Matt demanded.

The written message Kallen passed over provided little information about the actual curse. Two weeks earlier, Kallen had been ambushed during a walk and woke in his avian form. The rest of the revelations in the note turned Matt’s dismay to an even greater consternation.

My brother made no pretense of innocence in the attack. Kilade bragged he would now take leadership of our people, and there was nothing I could do to stop him. He told me to find Laurin. Said she was the only one who could cure me. But I see no way for that to occur.

I thank you, Shaman, for giving me back my human form. I had met with two other healers of the air clans before seeking you, and neither of them was strong enough to help me shift. I will continue to search for a cure. I refuse to remain as a mute—I must find a way to return to my tribe and take over from my brother. This deceit proves he is not a worthy leader for them.

“Why would Kilade tell you to see me? I have no healing powers. And if he was the one to curse you in the first place, why offer you the cure?” Laurin moved to Matt’s side, crawled into his lap and he curled himself around her, protecting as best he could.

“Kilade had a deeper reason for coming to fight back in June.” Matt stared across the short distance at where Kallen watched them carefully. “He actually quit before we were done. He seemed pleased to discover Laurin and I were partners.”

“He said he wanted to be sure you were strong enough to defend me,” Laurin pointed out.

Matt thought back to the fight. The air shifters who’d wanted to take control of Laurin’s abilities had come to claim her as a mate, and he’d fought them, letting it be known in no uncertain terms that her choice was the one that mattered. His suspicions regarding the exact nature of the curse grew.

The situation wasn’t improving.

Kallen leaned back on his stool uneasily. His dark eyes took in every move across from him. Matt’s reservations wavered as he considered how he would feel if their roles were reversed. It had to be a horrible position—to be totally dependent on others’ goodwill for something that hugely affected not only Kallen’s future, but his tribe’s.

“What if you can heal Kallen?” Matt asked Laurin. He turned her face toward him, ignoring the hope that flashed in Kallen’s eyes. “What if you do have the ability, with my help?”

The eagerness she felt was plain to see. “Then I would cure him, of course.”

“There’s no of course to it. Not everything is simple, Laurin.”

She narrowed her gaze. “What are you not telling me?”

Kallen waited, silent and still. Matt hesitated. He had to push past his fears. If this was meant to be, he had to be strong enough to face it himself. “Do you remember how to make your magic rise to the surface?”

She nodded.

“Stand up.”

She slipped off his lap and stood beside the table. The wind flicked her long hair around her face and he’d never seen her look more beautiful. “What do I need to do? Am I going to try to cure him right now?”

Matt shook his head. “This is just a test. Give Kallen your hand.”

The air shifter eyed Matt, as if asking for permission. Did the man know what was potentially on the horizon? Matt gave a slight tilt of his head, and Kallen accepted Laurin’s fingers into his, his large hand engulfing hers.

“Now what?” Her voice trembled.

“Bring your magic to the surface. Touch Kallen with it.”

The wind increased around them, like a localized storm had settled on the deck of the ship. But other than that—nothing. Both Kallen and Laurin turned their gazes toward Matt, disappointment in her eyes, resignation in his. Laurin pulled her hand free and clasped them together behind her back.

“It didn’t work.”

“I didn’t think it would.”

“What? Then why did you have me—?”

“It’s not enough. Your magic alone is not enough. Neither is mine.”

Her face lit up again. “So if we work together, we can cure him?”

“I think so.”

She thrust out a hand to Kallen, eager and willing. “Give Matt your other hand, Kallen,” she ordered.

Matt took it slowly. Kallen wrapped his fingers around hers. The stirring of her magic began again, and this time Matt added his power to the mix. Poured healing into Kallen’s body. He tried his hardest, because the alternative was going to be shocking for Laurin to consider, and leaving Kallen cursed was becoming less of an alternative with every minute that passed.