The Realm

Chapter 8

After a restless night, Samantha awoke, shocked to see the sun already high in the sky. She'd agonized for hours in her bed wondering if Sinclair thought her wanton. Did he regret what almost happened the previous night? How would he treat her today? She spent even more time chastising herself for not having the courage to take the next step.

These internal musings were getting her nowhere. She still had a job to do and she was determined to help him break this curse. Until she did though, no more kisses. Only once he got his freedom and could make a true choice would she contemplate it.

With her mind made up, she went down to the dining room for breakfast, but stopped dead in the doorway. Tears sprang to her eyes. In the center of the large table a little tree sat in a pot, decorated with bits of seashells and flowers. She'd forgotten what this morning was, but apparently Sinclair had listened when she spoke of Christmas the other day.

"Do you like it?" he whispered in her ear.

"Oh, Sinclair," she exclaimed, turning to him, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "You didn't have to do that."

"Yes, I did. I thought you might be a little homesick, and I remembered you telling me about Christmas, so I tried to recreate a bit of your home here."

She flung her arms around him, hugging him tightly, her eyes moist and her throat tight with unshed tears. So much for not loving him. How could she resist when he pulled a stunt like that?

Hugging her back, he said, "I'm glad you like it, and now for the next part of the surprise." He pulled away and leading her by the hand, seated her at the table. "Close your eyes."

Samantha complied, shutting them tightly. Another surprise? She heard a rustle of movement, a soft murmur, then something dropped in her lap, something that wiggled. Opening her eyes quickly, she looked down to find an enormous pair of eyes staring up at her.

"Merry Christmas, my little sea nymph."

"Oh," she exclaimed as her eyes brimmed again. Samantha had always wanted a pet but with her mother ill and their apartment so small, she'd never had one growing up. It seemed he'd paid attention during their talks.

Picking up the squirmy bundle, she raised it so that she could see its little furry face. Her new pet obviously belonged to the feline family, with its long whiskers and tail, although it seemed larger than a regular kitten. Its fur felt silky, a sleek gray color with lighter spots all over and its paws were wider and flatter than a regular cat's. All in all, it was the cutest, cuddliest thing she'd ever seen. And it was hers!

"What is it?" she asked, putting the wiggly little feline down so it could explore the floor at her feet.

"She's a catter," he replied, smiling at her obvious pleasure. "I don't know if they exist on your side of the Boundary or not, but they are common on the islands over here. They, unlike a regular cat, enjoy the water, fish being their meal of choice, but they are also great mousers. They love to swim, are extremely affectionate and train very well. They do, however, grow to be considerably larger than a regular cat, more the size of a mid to large size dog. Many highborn ladies keep them as pets, for once bonded to their owner they are extremely protective and even more important in the Realm, they are immune to most forms of magic. In the olden days, royalty used trained catters to spot those wearing a glamour or magical traps."

"That's fascinating. What's her name?"

"Her name? I left that to you since she's now yours."

"Really? Oh, I love her already!" exclaimed Samantha, who had slipped out of her chair and now sat on the stone floor rubbing her new pet's belly to its purring enjoyment. "How did you find her?"

"When we were hunting the beast, I came across her in the jungle. Her mother was nowhere to be found, and well, I thought of you."

"Thank you." Ha, maybe he did care for her after all. Or this was just a clever ploy to get into her pants, um, skirt.

"You're welcome. What are you going to call her?"

"I don't know," said Samantha, eyeing her new pet. Fluffy? No, too girlie.

"Make it good," said Sinclair. "Names are important in the Realm and can sometimes have magic of their own."

Talk about adding a level of stress. What if she chose the wrong name? Samantha, sitting on the floor, looked at the little catter which sat back on its haunches to regard her.

Inspiration hit. "I know," she said. "Her name is Chance."

Sinclair looked startled and asked, "Why Chance?"

"Chance brought me here and without it, I would never have met you or gotten my first pet, so I think Chance is perfect."

The little catter seemed to agree as she jumped onto Samantha's lap and curled into a purring ball.

Samantha's face dropped.

"What is it?" asked Sinclair, his voice tinged with worry.

"I didn't get you anything," wailed Samantha.

Sinclair chuckled and knelt down beside her, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "You've given me the best gift of all - hope. Before you came, I was a lonely, miserable man, but now that you're here, I've found myself smiling again and hopeful about the future. That is the best present you could give me."

Oh God, I'm going to cry. That has to be nicest thing anybody has ever said to me and now I'm going to ruin it by blubbering all over his clean shirt. Thank God Chance distracted her at that moment by batting at a hanging strand of hair. Untangling her little claws from the tress, Samantha had time to blink back the tears and rein in her emotions.

"Well," said Sinclair, standing up from his crouch beside her. "I realize today is a holiday so no work for you, but tomorrow, I was thinking perhaps you'd be willing to come to my workshop and we could run a few tests and try a few things."

"We don't need to wait until tomorrow. I know you're anxious to solve this curse thing so whenever you're ready, so am I." she said with a smile. At this moment, she would have done anything for the man.

"How about we have breakfast first?"

"Oh goody," she exclaimed. "I'm starved." Placing Chance on the floor, she stood. Sinclair, as per usual, held out her chair and seated her, his hand briefly stroking her hair before taking his own seat. Samantha hid a smile. He did care and she felt like an i***t for not noticing it in the small things he kept doing. Did it matter if it wasn't love yet for him? Not all relationships were built in a day. Just like a sturdy wall, love sometimes had to be built one brick at a time

They both ate a hearty breakfast, speaking little but laughing often at the antics of Chance who stalked their feet under the table. After breakfast Sinclair scooped up Chance and gave her to Kaar with instructions to feed her and then take her for a nap in Samantha's room.

Then with a smile, he grasped Samantha's hand and led her out of the dining room and up the stairs. They followed the wide corridor to a large wooden door set at the end. Letting go of her, Sinclair ran his left hand across some symbols carved into the wood of the door. The symbols glowed red briefly, then the door swung open and he motioned her in.

Ooh, I finally get to see his secret, magical lair. She wondered if he had a wizard's robe he used when he worked. Maybe a pointed cone hat too, she thought with a giggle.

The room was large. Built into one of the castle towers, windows all around let in lots of natural light. Shelves crammed with books and rolled up manuscripts lined two of the walls between the windows, the third held a huge cupboard with closed doors. In the center of the room a large worktable was strewn with odd objects, a crystal ball, some vials, and various apparatus she couldn't for the life of her figure out. The room, while kind of neat, was also a bit of a letdown. No flying books or talking skulls, not even any jars with floating mutated creatures. Heck, he didn't even have any dramatically strung cobwebs.

"Now then," said Sinclair striding over to the table, all business. "First I want to test you for magical residue. This will let me know if you've been ensorcelled or have come into contact with magic other than mine."

Samantha eyed him and the objects on his table dubiously. Was this where he asked her for a sample of her blood? Sensing her hesitation he came around and took her hands.

"Don't worry, this won't hurt. I just need you to stand here and be still." He walked her to an engraved circle on the floor. He positioned her in the center and bending, he touched its silver outline. A faint haze sprang up around her. He stood up and smiled at her reassuringly.

"This will prevent any outside magic from influencing what we do," he explained over his shoulder as he approached the large cupboard and opened it.

Samantha stood in the bubble, her body trembling a little in fear. He might have said it wouldn't hurt, but then he'd hardly tell her if it would.

"I want you to close your eyes and just relax. I promise you won't feel a thing."

Samantha shut her eyes tight and tried to relax, breathing deeply, in and out. Several minutes passed and she wondered when he was going to get started when he said, "All done. You can step out of the circle now."

Samantha opened her eyes in surprise. "But I didn't feel a thing."

"I told you these tests wouldn't hurt. You'll be glad to know your aura is not clouded by any spells, so you've not been ensorcelled, and while there is a bit of magical residue clinging to it, I think we can attribute that to your unusual journey to the island." He strode back to his table and flipped through an open book on its surface.

"Now what?" asked Samantha.

"I'm not sure," he replied. "As I thought, it would seem that you won't be using magic to break this curse as you have none, but I know that your presence here must mean you are somehow part of the answer. I'm going to try something else now, if you don't mind."

Striding over to the large cupboard again, he scrounged among its contents, muttering under his breath. Inside were hundreds of bottles and containers and a host of interesting looking items. Aha, that's where he kept the cool stuff. He grabbed a slim wand from a shelf and brought it over to her.

"Here. Take this wand and repeat after me."

Samantha took the slender wand in her hand and, feeling slightly foolish, began to chant after him.

"Swirling winds, sands of time, bring this island back in line."

Not surprisingly, nothing happened. He frowned and flipped his book to a new page.

"Okay, this time I want you to swirl it like this at the end," he said, waving his hand around in a wide arc to show her, beginning a new chant.

"Spirits of air, spirits of light, bring this island back in sight!" She recited the words solemnly then swept the wand at the end in a large arc as he'd shown her. Again, nothing.

Samantha stifled an urge to giggle. Really? A wand and rhyming chants?

Sinclair raked his hand through his hair. He muttered some more under his breath as he went back to his cupboard and rummaged some more. He came out holding a large amethyst on a chain. Returning, he placed it around her neck. Again she repeated his words, but nothing happened so he took it off and went again to his cupboard. He kept going back and forth, reading from his book and taking various objects out for her to try. Her arm became sore from swinging the wand around and her mouth dry from all the incantations he kept making her say.

This magic stuff was a lot harder than it looked! His brow became more and more furrowed until Samantha steeled herself and asked, "Um, I hate to bother you but I'm kind of tired. I don't think any of your toys are going to work."

He faced her, a look of astonishment on his face. "Toys! These, my little sea nymph, are magical artifacts of great value, carefully crafted to provide the user with magical abilities."

"Yes, well that's all very nice," she said. "But it's not working. And I really need to go to the little girl's room, if you don't mind."

"The little girls what?" he asked, plainly confused.

"I have to pee!" Samantha didn't wait to hear his answer, she just opened the workroom door and strode down the hall to her room. Her new pet looked up sleepily from her bed as she stormed in, but she ignored Chance in favor of a more urgent need.

Men! It's not my fault I don't have any magic. Maybe I'm not the key to breaking his curse after all. Would he still show an interest in me if it wasn't for his desire to escape?

When she came out of the bathroom she found him sitting on her bed, shoulders slumped.

"Sorry," he said. "I got so caught up in trying to find a way to break the curse that it didn't occur to me that you may have been tiring. It doesn't matter, I don't think that the curse will be broken by you wielding magic anyhow."

He looked so tired and dejected that Samantha felt bad for storming out. On an impulse, she hugged his head to her stomach. He grabbed her around the waist and held her tightly, his face buried just beneath her breasts. She stroked his hair, trying to offer him comfort, but even that simple touch soon had her body warming. The feel of his warm breath through her clothing made her quiver. He looked up at her, his eyes dark with need. Her lips parted and her breath came quicker. Standing, he clasped her in his arms, pressing her body fully against his. Her body instantly lit with arousal, the ache from the night before returning with more intensity. She felt his arousal pressing against her stomach and closed her eyes, leaning into him. He stroked her back, hands sliding softly over the fabric of her dress. Reaching down he cupped her buttocks and pressed her firmly against him. She gave a gasp and peeked at him just as he lowered his head and captured her mouth with his. She kissed him back fiercely, twining her arms around his neck. He responded by picking her up and laying her down on the bed, covering her body with his.

Chance meowed, unhappy to have her spot usurped, and hopped off the bed. Samantha giggled but when she gazed at Sinclair and his heavy lidded eyes, she felt her body instantly react. As he stretched himself over her, she exulted in his weight pressing on her. His hands roved everywhere, setting her sensitized skin atingle. Gently, he cupped her breasts with a squeeze. Her n*****s puckered. His lips left hers so he could he trail hot kisses down the side of her neck.

Samantha floated in heaven. Who cared if she'd only known him a few days or if he only lusted after her? Her body was on fire and her mind no longer in control. She felt him pull at her skirt, his hand stroking its way up her leg to her thigh. She moaned and arched her hips, urging him on. Between her legs, she pulsed, throbbing and wet, aching for something she knew only he could give her. She wanted him to touch her, and as if he heard her thoughts, touch her he did. His fingers lightly stroked her curls and she moaned against his mouth as she pressed her pelvis against his hand. He responded by kissing her again, more deeply than before. His tongue slid along the inside of her lips. Boldly, she stroked it back with her own. He groaned against her lips and a powerful surge of desire flooded her for this man who made her feel so wanted. So beautiful.

His hand lightly brushed her kitty before he slowly slid a finger inside, her wetness easing its passage. She almost leapt off the bed at the jolt of pure pleasure that shocked through her. Slowly, his fingers stroked her, rubbing against her c******s. His lips slid from her mouth along her jaw line to her neck, nibbling and sucking. Samantha thrashed on the bed, an intense pressure building inside as his finger rubbed back and forth. She twined her fingers in his hair as he kissed his way down her neckline to the bodice of her gown. Her breath came in short gasps as she gloried in the sensations his hand and mouth aroused.

A knocking sound startled them both from their lovemaking.

Sinclair barked, "What?"

Kaar's face peered around the door, a distressed look on his face. "Master, help Siski. Bad fall. Much hurt."

Sinclair groaned and rolled off Samantha, pulling her skirt down to cover her. Samantha lay there flushed and still yearning. He rubbed his hand through his hair and groaned. Leaning down, he kissed her swollen lips.

"I wish I could stay, but I need to go. Siski, Kaars' daughter, has been injured. Believe me, that is the only reason I'd leave right now." His rueful glance and evident arousal left Samantha in no doubt about how much he wanted to continue. Samantha sat up and started adjusting her clothes.

"I'll come with you."

"No, stay here," he said. "Rest. You're going to need it for later," he said with an endearingly wicked smile.

When she would have protested, he kissed her soundly again, and then left while she was still trying to regain her senses.

Samantha fell back on her pillows and smiled. He did want her! She hugged herself as she thought of his kisses and the way his hands had made her body feel. She hoped he'd return soon to finish what he'd started. She had no doubt now that he wanted her as badly as she wanted him, and judging by this morning's surprise, he might even have feelings for her too.

Chance hopped up on the bed and looked at her quizzically.

"What do you think, Chance? Do you think he might fall in love with me?" she asked her little pet. Chance just yawned and padded over to her. She turned around a few times in a circle then curled up beside her and went to sleep. Samantha stroked her soft fur and soon fell asleep with a smile on her face, her restless night and the morning's magical testing catching up to her. When next she wakened, the position of the sun showed it as late afternoon.

Where was Sinclair?

Getting up carefully so as not to disturb Chance, who still slept, Samantha went into the bathroom to wash the sleep from her face and brush her hair. Leaving her door slightly ajar so Chance could find her, she wandered downstairs, hungry from having missed lunch.

Even in light sandals, her footsteps echoed in the silent castle. Samantha shivered. Where was everyone? She wandered in and out of the lower rooms but found nobody. Somewhat perturbed, she settled herself in the parlor in one of the large chairs arranged around the currently cold fireplace. She huddled her knees to her chest, slightly afraid of the eerie silence surrounding her and wondering where Sinclair and the all house staff were. Perhaps she should go down to the village and see.

Don't be such a ninny. So what if she was alone? It wasn't the first time. And, she didn't want to appear too clingy.

A cool breeze drifted into the room and she looked around, trying to find its source, hoping it meant Sinclair had returned. No one appeared in the front hall. She did, however, note a faint white mist drifting from the large ornate mirror hanging above the mantel. Samantha approached the mirror cautiously, curious. This was new. Sinclair had never mentioned the mirror did magic.

Standing before it, her face stared back at her, wisps of chilly smoke reaching out to touch her skin, making her shudder. The reflective surface clouded and when it cleared, a beautiful woman appeared in it. She regarded Samantha with a haughty air and let out a nasty little chuckle.

This can't be good, she thought, taking a step back.

"Well, well, what do we have here? A mere human woman come to join Sinclair in his exile? When I felt a disturbance in my spell, I thought perhaps I needed to be worried, but I see now there is no reason to fret."

By her words, Samantha deduced who the woman was. Sinclair's old lover, Melisante! She could see why he'd fallen for her. Melisante's features were perfect - tiny pert nose, large blue eyes, long straight blonde hair, and red rosebud lips. Pity she's such a heartless b***h.

"What do you want?" asked Samantha. "Haven't you done enough to Sinclair? You got the amulet you wanted so why are you still punishing him? He's a good man and he doesn't deserve what you've done to him."

A sneer distorted the image of perfection as Melisante replied. "Oh, you poor little human. You've quite fallen under his spell, haven't you? But really, I hope you aren't under the illusion that Sinclair could ever love you. He is a wizard of immense power who could have any woman he wants. Sure, he might pay you attention now, but then again, it's not as if he has any other choice. Not to mention, after having had me, do you really think he could settle for a large cow like you?"

A part of Samantha understood Melisante played upon her insecurities. It didn't make it any easier. She could handle the insults, but her disregard to Sinclair incensed her. How could this spoiled witch do this to Sinclair, a man she once claimed to love? Samantha would have happily throttled the witch given the chance. "You got what you wanted. Let him go. Hasn't he been punished enough?"

"Isn't that cute? Look at you, a simple human with no power trying to save him. Stupid girl! He might dally with you now. After all, it's been three years since he's been with a woman, or should I say, made love to me." The image in the mirror sighed. "I do miss him, you know. He was quite the lover, virile and knowledgeable about a woman's body. I truly enjoyed our lovemaking. Such a shame he had to have principles. He would have made an excellent consort. But enough reminiscing. Come closer."

A finger beckoned from the mirror and despite herself, Samantha moved forward. What the heck? She tried to halt but her limbs wouldn't obey, her legs kept shuffling her in the direction of the mirror where a green haze leaked from its surface. Terror engulfed her. She had no doubt if she touched that green mist, something bad would happen, and she tried to stop herself, but her body was no longer under her power. It kept moving forward. This is a nightmare come to life, only worse since I can't wake up!

With a loud yowl, Chance bolted into the room, her fur standing erect from her neck to her tail, her little face scrunched in a snarl. She bounded over to the mirror and jumped. The mirror hung too high and the feline slid down the wall. Changing tactics, the little catter grabbed Samantha's dress in its teeth and tried to tug her to safety, but she didn't have enough weight or strength and was instead dragged along with Samantha as the witch's power drew them both forward, closer and closer to the mirror.

Wearing a wicked smile, the sorceress beckoned with a crooked finger. The outer tendrils of the mist reached towards Samantha. She raised a hand to ward it off but screamed in pain as the most horrible burning sensation ripped through her.

Strong arms nabbed her and dragged her away from the green mist, yet the agony continued to burn and she whimpered, too overcome to speak.

Sinclair, his face a hard mask and his eyes flashing in fury, held her cradled in his arms as he snarled at the mirror. "Reverse the spell."

"Why would I do that?"

"This matter is between the two of us. Why not come over for a visit instead of playing games with innocents?"

Barely conscious, Samantha could only watch the unfolding events, trying not to succumb to the misery engulfing her.

Melisante puckered her pretty lips into a pout. "Oh, Sinclair. How I've missed you. As I was telling your little champion here, it's such a shame you are a man of principle, for none of my lovers since has ever been able to satisfy me like you did."

"You b***h! If I'd have known how black your heart was I would never have touched you. When I get out of here you are going to rue the day you betrayed me and hurt Samantha!"

"Yes, well, I highly doubt that's going to happen now, as I believe my work here is done." Melisante blew him a noisy kiss and with a nasty cackle, disappeared from the mirror, the green mist dissipating with her.

What a shame she didn't take the pain with her. Her lids fluttered shut, closing out the world but not shutting away the pain.

"Samantha! Samantha! Come on, open your eyes dammit!"

As if through a distant tunnel, Samantha could hear Sinclair talking, but try as she might, she couldn't open her eyes or answer him. The poison and the agony spread while lethargy overtook her limbs and mind. From a distance she heard a horrible wailing, but by the time she realized it was her, she thankfully lost consciousness.