Whistle Down the Wind (Mystic Moon) (24 page)

She closed
her eyes, spoke a repulse spell, and sealed the door with magic. She had no
intention of opening it again until she could be sure they were all safe from
the machinations of the evil dark druid.

Catlin
rushed to Griffin’s side. Her heart clenched painfully within her chest when
she discovered the large gash in his shoulder. The crewman must have used his
knife, and now blood poured from the wound.

She lifted
her skirt and tore off a large piece of the petticoat to attempt to staunch the
flow of blood from the knife wound. She made small reassuring sounds to him,
but more to soothe herself then to encourage Griffin. He had lost
consciousness.

Hot, angry
tears rolled down her cheeks. Griffin suffered because of her. She’d known Lord
Sheffield wouldn’t stop until he possessed her, and yet she hadn’t trusted
Griffin enough to divulge her fears.

Now the man
she loved poured his blood out upon this pocked and scarred floor, thousands of
miles from his home. He could die without ever knowing she loved him with all her
heart

The ship
climbed a wave, twisted, and then plummeted down a deep valley of water.
Passengers screamed, and Catlin realized she must call back the furious
elemental spirits she’d unleased.

Her heart
felt shattered into a million cold, hard pieces of ice. Why should she care for
the
sophors
on this ship? Likely they’d have joined the crew in
condemning her for practicing witchcraft. A pure, unrelenting hatred for these
mere mortals suffused her, and her thirst for revenge momentarily blinded her.

A soft moan
brought her back. She turned to find Bitsy sitting up.

“Mistress
Catlin—” Her voice was raspy and hoarse. “Might I have a drink of water? I’m
most fearfully parched.”

The girl’s
gaze settled upon Griffin, and horror lit her features. “Bloody hell, Mistress,
what’s happened to Sir Reynolds?”

The other
women stirred on their pallets, and Catlin realized she hadn’t opened the
circle and released the magic. If there was one final hope for Griffin, she had
to take a chance and seize it.

Standing up,
Catlin closed her eyes and opened the bargaining again with her
sylphs
.

You’ve asked
for this man and so I shall offer you this—three days and an hour within your
realm, and then you shall release him back to me.

A bright
fluttering of excitement surrounded her.

We shall
decide when to release those in our dominion, for you do not command us.

They were
right, but since elemental spirits had no real concept of illness or injury,
they possessed no advantage in this bargaining.

Then he can
stay here, she responded silently. For I would never send a
sophor
to
the Dream Time without a way out. As you well know, they cannot ask for release
on their own. Nor would they.

That was the
secret no mortal knew—that to be captured within the magical kingdoms was an
eternal sentence. A human would never ask to return to the pain and suffering
of the world once he’d experienced the never-ending pleasures of the Dream
Time.

Catlin
shuddered at the idea of saving Griffin’s life only to sacrifice him to the
elemental spirits. If they insisted on their stipulation to control his time in
their world, she would refuse.

Finally,
after much chattering, the
sylphs
silenced.

We are in
agreement. Three days and an hour shall this man dwell with us, and then you
may call him back. If he chooses to return to you, so shall it be.

Catlin
understood this as a final offer. She nodded wearily and clapped her hands
three times. Within moments, Griffin’s body stiffened, his eyes fluttered open,
and his body shimmered with a silver and white glow. As she watched, his
breathing settled to a regular rhythm and the flowing blood became a trickle,
then a gentle oozing until finally it ceased.

“Toss me the
counterpane from the bunk, Bitsy. Sir Reynolds has lost a great deal of blood,
and I need to try to keep him warm.”

Bitsy tossed
the blanket to Catlin. Muttering her thanks, Catlin spread it over Griffin’s
body. She wanted to lie beside him to offer her warmth, but the tossing and
dipping of the ship reminded her she must deal with the storm raging outside.

The other
women remained unconscious, but their color had returned and they no longer
moaned or thrashed about in a stupor.

“Will Sir
Reynolds be all right?” Bitsy asked Catlin.

Catlin
gently touched Griffin’s face and traced the thin line of the scar that ended
near his chin.  “He needs rest to regain his strength.”

Catlin tried
to make her voice reassuring so Bitsy wouldn’t sense her fear. What if, when
Catlin called Griffin to return to her from the magical Dream Time, he refused
to hear her voice?  She might have sentenced the man she loved to an eternity
in the between world that hovered at the edge of life and death. 

Chapter Twenty-Three

I open my
eyes and blink several times. I'm not in Catlin’s cabin on the ship as I
expected. I'm stretched upon a large, soft bed with a mattress stuffed with the
finest goose down feathers Tapestries filled with unicorns, elves, fairies, and
other assorted magical folk cover the walls of the room. The threads shimmer
and pulse, making the scene almost come alive.

The hangings
draping the bed are made of fine silk and velvet, and when I reach out to touch
the coverlet thrown over me, I discover it's a supple, thick fur. When I lift
the covering I discover I'm naked.

A sweet
aroma scents the air. It's the herbal fragrance that serves as Catlin’s
signature perfume. I inhale deeply. She must be in this room someplace. There
are no windows, yet a warm golden glow of light illuminates the shadows. If I'm
in a prison, it's the most luxurious cell I've ever imagined. If Catlin is
here, I might never wish to be released.

I see
someone from the corner of my eye. The figure of a woman emerges from a dense
fog at the edge of the room.

As she comes
closer, the womanly curves and voluptuousness of her figure appear. I swallow.
The playful sway of her hips and her long hair flowing down past her shoulders
mesmerize me.

My mouth
goes dry when she pauses next to the bed to gaze down at me. It's Catlin, and
she's utterly beautiful in an ethereal way I've never perceived before. Her
soft blue eyes hold a sensuous promise, and I lick my parched lips in heady
anticipation.

“Catlin,
where are we?”

She smiles,
a soft secret expression crossing her face. With one quick movement she removes
a silver pin from near her shoulder to release the thin gown covering her. The
silky fabric comes apart as it swishes to the floor, revealing her naked
beauty.

My gaze
settles upon the full, round globes of her breasts. The hard pink tips glow in
the strange light, beckoning me to take each nipple in my mouth, to savor the
delightful feel of her, to taste the silky nectar of her skin.

My cock
grows hard. She stands just beyond my reach, and I want to leap from the bed
and pull her down with me. I ache to push into her hot, tight sheath, and the
depth of my desire, this carnal hunger for her, astonishes me.

I'm not an
untested boy experiencing his first swiving. I don't understand this burning,
unquenchable need I have for Catlin. It unsettles me.

As the blood
rushes through my body, it pools in my groin, making it ache with a desperate
craving to join our bodies together.

“Dream
Time,” she whispers. Her voice is breathy. It makes sense, for the real world
could never be this sweet. She gives me another mysterious smile and slips into
the bed to join me.

Pushing me
back against the plump feather pillows, she straddles my body. Having her soft,
round bottom settle across my thighs arouses me even more. This position is
pleasantly surprising, for it allows me to take both breasts into my hands
while watching her eyes darken with passion.

With a
gentle kneading, I cradle each orb as if it is a rare and valued treasure. When
I try to shift her body to place her beneath me, she places a hand gently upon
my chest to halt the movement.

“You are my
prisoner,” she declares, her voice more musical and lilting then usual.

I relax and
spread my arms wide. I wonder if she might produce a length of silk to fasten
my hands to the bedstead, and the thought thrills me. Again, I'm astonished at
the wickedness of my thoughts in this dream.

She leans
forward, offering me a taste of her sweet breasts. I quickly assent to her
unspoken demand, running my tongue around the rosy circle before flickering it
across the nipple.

Catlin
flings her head back and squirms. Her movements sharpen the heavy pulse of
desire in my cock, making it grow even thicker and harder.

I push her
back to gain access to the soft secret folds protecting her woman’s sheath.
Inserting a finger near the top of the fold, I locate the small pleasure point.
With a few gentle strokes, she's twisting and moaning upon the bed.

I continue
to stroke and thrust, pushing two fingers into her in a rhythm matched by the
teasing of the small button of delight. She shivers and her tight sheath
squeezes against my finger.

With one
swift movement, I settle her on her back. The surprise in her soft blue eyes
amuses me. If I'm a prisoner, I have no intention of being a quiescent one.
I'll give as well as take tonight.

Spreading
her thighs, I lean forward and tease her with several gentle, languorous
strokes of my tongue across the tender skin. Finally I can't resist the
temptation, and I put my lips to the soft folds of her womanhood.

I maintain
the tempo of lick, suck, and thrust, savoring the sweet nectar I discover
between her legs. Catlin squirms beneath me, arching into my mouth, begging for
me to continue with soft purrs of encouragement.

Finally, she
arches her back and cries out. There isn't time to let her savor the moment,
for now my own need screams for release.

I lift
myself on my elbows and kiss her lips to hold her captive beneath me. With one
hard thrust, I'm sheathed within her. She squeezes me with the slick tightness
of her body.

I want to
prolong the bliss of our physical joining, but bringing Catlin to satisfaction
awakens a sharp agony of need within me. I withdraw only to plunge again into
her deep, wet, warmth, shuddering with the delicious sweetness of our
lovemaking.

With a final
push into her depths, I find my release and cry out in a delirium of pleasure.
I would have collapsed upon her but for a quick moment of coherence that made
me fall to the side.

I struggle
to capture my breath, my chest heaving in an effort to fill my lungs with air.
I shake with the emotions flowing through me. When I turn to gaze into Catlin’s
beautiful soft eyes I'm shocked by the vacant stare she returns.

“Catlin?” I
lean on my elbow to watch her movements. “Is there something wrong?”

She blinks
at me and rises quickly from the bed.

“Where are
you going,” I ask, bewildered by her strange and distant behavior.

“I shall
return,” she says in her strange, lilting voice. She dissolves suddenly into
the golden light.

A warning
flickers at the edge of my awareness, but I quickly dismiss it.

This is a
beautiful, sensual dream, and I hope to never wake up. My skin prickles at that
thought and I'm unsettled.

I close my
eyes and relax, hoping this dream will continue. With luck, my phantom lover
will return. As far as I'm concerned, any world with the beautiful Catlin
Glyndwr in it is perfect.

“Is he still
breathing, Mistress?” Bitsy sat next to Catlin, a worried expression on her
face. “He seems right still were ye to ask me.”

Although his
breathing was shallow, Griffin’s chest rose and fell. Blessed be, Catlin
thought. While he was in Dream Time, he’d be unaware of any pain. She’d cleaned
and dressed the stab wound and packed it with some precious spider web to
staunch the bleeding.

Now she
waited. He needed rest, and she’d given him the best opportunity to recover by
agreeing to what the
sylphs
wanted most.

Her
conscience bothered her, because it was unheard of to send a
sophor
into
the Dream Time. What would her sisters say? Of course, with Lord Sheffield
demanding she be punished, the storm still raging outside despite her best
efforts to calm the wind, and Griffin possibly lost to her forever, her
sister’s ire didn’t much alarm her.

Bitsy rubbed
her stomach. “Ye wouldn’t have a bit of hardtack about, would ye, Mistress? I’m
right starved.”

The girl was
always famished. For such a tiny creature, she managed to consume a fair amount
of victuals.

“We have a
bit of the hardtack, and I’ll brew you some tea to dip it into. There isn’t
much to eat in here, as we’ve been too busy to worry about feeding ourselves.”

Bitsy's gaze
dropped to the floor and her mouth drew downward. “I’m sorry, Mistress. It’s
right selfish of me to even ask.”

Catlin put
an arm around the girl and gave her a hug. “Of course you have a right to be
hungry, it’s been days since you had anything solid to eat.”

Catlin stood
up, moving carefully as the ship continued to lurch and dip. She put a small
pot of water over the charcoal brazier, then found a packet of chamomile and
poured it into a bowl. When the water was hot, she poured it over the herbs.
She handed the bowl and a hard piece of the cracker they packed in barrels to
serve as bread for crew and passengers to Bitsy. She had also found a small
wedge of hard cheese.

“It’s not
fancy, but I believe it will help tamp down the hunger pains.”

The girl
nodded and ate silently for a few minutes. The wind howled and the ship tossed
and twisted in the stormy seas. Wood creaked and she could hear the moans and
screams of the other passengers.

By the time
Bitsy had polished off the hardtack, her eyelids were drooping. Catlin hoped the
herbs in the tea she’d made would help the girl fall back asleep. More magic
was required this night, but Catlin didn’t want to perform spells in the
presence of another
sophor
.

When Bitsy
finally settled down upon the bunk, Catlin rearranged the objects for her
altar. She again outlined the shape of the pentacle and this time she arranged
the items in a different order. This was not a spell for releasing magic, but
one to call upon all the elemental spirits for help and protection against the
forces of darkness bearing down upon her.

Finally,
when everything was assembled to her satisfaction, Catlin stood at the outside
edges of the five-sided star and walked around it to form her circle.

“Guardians
of the Watchtowers, I call upon thee. From the North I call the elements of
Wind, from the East I call the elements of Water, from the South I call the
elements of Fire, and from the West I call the elements of Earth. Spirits
created by the Mother, she who gives us life, Lady of the Moon, Guardian of the
Night, and Queen of Heaven, I summon thee forth for help. Hear my plea!”

Catlin
clapped her hands three times.

The candles
at the cardinal points flickered, and the flame rose. The wind still howled,
but the sound was less fearsome and somehow more comforting. The ship stopped
tossing and instead seemed to roll across the sea as if gliding. Catlin closed
her eyes, and one by one the elemental spirits appeared to her. The fire dragon
representing the element of fire blinked at her lazily and disappeared. A tiny undine
swam through her consciousness, followed by a small, hearty figure Catlin knew
to be a gnome. Finally, the glow of a
sylph
appeared.

Catlin
called upon these creatures to share their magic. A spark of brightness
fluttered through her and built, the cone of power rising higher and higher
until the pulsing energy of magic transformed her. Now she was a vessel,
seeking to release the energy she contained.

With her
willow wand, Catlin traced several sigils in the air, and they each glowed with
a powerful magic of their own. She sprinkled the water and tossed the salt onto
the altar. Finally, she stood in front of the small brazier, holding a sprig of
dried angelica. She touched the dry leaf to the flame, and it flared.

“I call upon
all the creatures of the Lady for help and protection. There is one who seeks
to do me evil, and so I weave this spell to ward him from his foul intent.”

She tossed
another handful of the salt in the air.

“I call upon
the water to calm the waves and keep this ship safe on its journey.” She
sprinkled more water on the altar.

“I call upon
the wind to grant us speed to our destination.” She waved the smoking herb in
the air.

“I ask fire
to protect me from evil, to burn away the threat and light my path.” She lit
two more candles and set them in holders at the center of the altar.

“Finally, I
call upon the earth, to hold the one I love safely within your bosom. Protect
Griffin Reynolds from harm.”

She pulled
the bodkin from her hair, and with a sharp poke, drew blood from the lifeline crossing
her hand. She held her hand over the small copper bowl and let a few drops of
her blood fall into the water.

“So have I
said, so shall it be.”

Exhaustion
overwhelmed her, but before she could rest she needed to open her circle and
release the elemental spirits. She traveled around the circle widdershins
before pausing to create an opening. She thanked the elementals for answering
her call and released them.

Finally,
even though her throat ached and her head pounded, she gathered her magical
tools together and put them back into her trunk to safely lock them away.

The storm
had passed, for the wind no longer roared and the ship sailed calmly through a
gentle sea.