Powerful Magic Read Free Page B

was more of a fool than he had thought.  
               "How came you here?"   He asked her, still standing in his fighting stance, though he kept his hand away from the hilt of his sword.
               "Here?"   Blinking rapidly, she waved a milky hand around the dim interior of his cave.   "I... I'm not sure.   I think I was hit by lightening and when I woke up it began to snow."              
               She frowned, biting her full bottom lip.   The look she gave him was one of fearful entreaty, the look of a damsel in distress expecting rescue, hoping and praying that her rescuer did not turn out to be the very thing she needed rescue from.  
               When she continued, it was in a low voice, almost as if she were speaking to herself.   "Have you seen Roger?   He was coming towards me when the lightening struck."
                Kenric shook his head, though obviously she did not require an answer.   Such nonsensical speech was what he would expect from one who'd suffered some sort of blow to the head.   Or a madwoman.   Whichever it was, it was clear her mind was addled.   That well explained the strange garb.
                As to the talk of lightening, since a blizzard howled outside the cave, the woman would soon realize the foolishness of her words.
               But this man, this Roger, now this interested him.   If she'd been meeting a lover, it was highly likely this man would be roaming around here somewhere, storm or no storm, looking for her.   He himself would, he concluded ruefully, were she of sound mind.   A comely woman such as this one would be welcomed by any man, especially on such a cold night.
               His body stirred at the thought, surprising him.   He had forsworn such things.   It had been a long time since he had allowed himself to enjoy the attentions of a willing maid.   Not since he'd lived in his father's keep had he done so.             Nor would he again, until the goal he devoted his life towards had been reached.
               Crouching on one knee before her, he lifted her chin with one hand.   She shrank away from his touch, eyes huge in her heart-shaped face.
               "What are you called?"   With narrowed eyes, he waited for her answer.   Fear he was used to, though he found he intensely disliked seeing it in her.  
               "Megan."   She told him, swallowing.   Her guileless expression told him she spoke the truth.   "Megan Potter."
               Megan was a Welsh name, Potter was not.  
               She made a mew of sound, trying to move away from his touch.   He found himself moving his rough hand to her cheek, caressing the soft skin there.   This so shocked him that he yanked his hand away.
               "From whence do you come?"  
               "I’m… Dallas, Texas."  
               He had not heard of the place, whether within the mysterious mountains of Wales or in Great Britain itself.   Perhaps it was in another country, like Italy or Spain.
               "How came you here?"   If she mentioned lightening again, he would know she needed some time to recover from whatever ailed her, and he would leave her alone.
               Instead of answering, she only shook her head.   "I must find Roger."  
               Still shivering and chewing the nail on her index finger, the woman regarded him hopefully.   "There’s something important I need to tell him."
               "You will not tell him of this place."   It was not a request, but a command.   Kenric knew he did not want to kill this slip of a woman, but he had to protect his sanctuary.  
               Megan Potter straightened her shoulders, fear still evident in the trembling of her rosebud mouth.   "I don’t even know where this place is.   It’s some sort of