Read Online Outcast (Book Two of the Forever Faire Series): A Fae Fantasy Romance Novel by Hazel Hunter - Free Book Online
Authors: Hazel Hunter
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of food into Ryan’s rooms, but set it down as soon as he saw his face. “What now?”
“The Rowe sisters.” Ryan gestured for the spell tracker to sit in the chair opposite his. “I need you to take a closer look at them. Do you have your crystal with you?”
“I have been carrying it of late.” Wallace removed a black cloth from his vest pocket and unwrapped it to reveal a small, opaque shard. “What do you wish to see?”
“Their past,” Ryan told him. “Take me to their childhood.”
The blacksmith spread the white cloth over his hand, and placed the shard in the center of it. As he murmured in the ancient tongue, the crystal came alive with shimmering light. The shard rose from the cloth to hover over it, slowly turning and sprouting new angles. When he had finished the spell, the shard had expanded into a whirling, glittering sphere.
“Open,” Wallace said, deftly moving his hand through the silver light. The crystal elongated and flattened. When it formed a two-sided oval mirror, he touched his fingers to the crystal surface. “Kayla and Tara Rowe, as children.”
Ryan watched as a young girl appeared. She held a blanket-wrapped infant, and watched an older man packing suitcases in the back of an old car.
“Aren’t we going to wait for Mama?” the girl asked the man. When he didn’t reply, she tightened her arms around the infant. “Daddy, what if she comes back, and we’re not here?”
“She’s not coming back, sweetheart.” The man took the infant from her, which made the baby cry. He ignored her screams as he strapped her into a safety seat. “Now get in the car. Go on, Kayla. I want to be in Georgia by tonight.”
“There,” Wallace murmured, and pointed to a barely perceptible, dark glow surrounding the car seat as well as the young girl. “Spell trace from the curse placed on them. To be so visible it must have been cast just before this event.”
“Can you see earlier?” Ryan asked, but when Wallace passed his hand over the surface it filled with a thick, dark seething smoke.
“More enchantment,” the blacksmith said, drawing back his hand. “The spell not only cloaks the children, it forms a barricade around the time of the casting. Whoever cursed these children made sure no one would ever discover who did it, or why.”
Wallace didn’t have to tell Ryan that such safeguards were almost always invoked to protect a changeling.
“Take me to their home in Florida, and show me the rest of it.”
The dark mass cleared, and more images appeared on the mirror. This time it showed young Kayla giving bottles to the baby Tara, and changing her diapers, and bathing her. Ryan noticed the man always hovered somewhere in the background, not helping the girl but never taking his eyes off her.
“Would you take her, Daddy?” Kayla asked as she finished feeding the infant. “I need to do my homework.”
The father’s mouth thinned. “Then put her in the playpen. She’ll only scream if I hold her.”
Kayla’s eyes swam with tears, but she carried the baby to a high chair, and put some cereal on the tray before she started reading a text book and making notes on a sheet of paper.
The baby, Ryan noted, didn’t touch the cereal, but watched her sister as closely as the father had.
Wallace summoned more images that showed the father, drinking himself unconscious, the baby teething, and young Kayla falling asleep in class. He watched the times the children had gone hungry as their father spent his wages on drink instead of food. Somehow Kayla always managed to find something to feed Tara, even if it meant asking a neighbor for a cup of milk, or stealing some fruit from a grove on her way home from school.
Many times he saw Kayla crying in her bed, but always sobbing into her pillow so that the baby in the crib beside it would not wake. He also watched her sneaking money out of her father’s wallet while he sat unconscious in his chair, a half-empty bottle still clutched in
“The Rowe sisters.” Ryan gestured for the spell tracker to sit in the chair opposite his. “I need you to take a closer look at them. Do you have your crystal with you?”
“I have been carrying it of late.” Wallace removed a black cloth from his vest pocket and unwrapped it to reveal a small, opaque shard. “What do you wish to see?”
“Their past,” Ryan told him. “Take me to their childhood.”
The blacksmith spread the white cloth over his hand, and placed the shard in the center of it. As he murmured in the ancient tongue, the crystal came alive with shimmering light. The shard rose from the cloth to hover over it, slowly turning and sprouting new angles. When he had finished the spell, the shard had expanded into a whirling, glittering sphere.
“Open,” Wallace said, deftly moving his hand through the silver light. The crystal elongated and flattened. When it formed a two-sided oval mirror, he touched his fingers to the crystal surface. “Kayla and Tara Rowe, as children.”
Ryan watched as a young girl appeared. She held a blanket-wrapped infant, and watched an older man packing suitcases in the back of an old car.
“Aren’t we going to wait for Mama?” the girl asked the man. When he didn’t reply, she tightened her arms around the infant. “Daddy, what if she comes back, and we’re not here?”
“She’s not coming back, sweetheart.” The man took the infant from her, which made the baby cry. He ignored her screams as he strapped her into a safety seat. “Now get in the car. Go on, Kayla. I want to be in Georgia by tonight.”
“There,” Wallace murmured, and pointed to a barely perceptible, dark glow surrounding the car seat as well as the young girl. “Spell trace from the curse placed on them. To be so visible it must have been cast just before this event.”
“Can you see earlier?” Ryan asked, but when Wallace passed his hand over the surface it filled with a thick, dark seething smoke.
“More enchantment,” the blacksmith said, drawing back his hand. “The spell not only cloaks the children, it forms a barricade around the time of the casting. Whoever cursed these children made sure no one would ever discover who did it, or why.”
Wallace didn’t have to tell Ryan that such safeguards were almost always invoked to protect a changeling.
“Take me to their home in Florida, and show me the rest of it.”
The dark mass cleared, and more images appeared on the mirror. This time it showed young Kayla giving bottles to the baby Tara, and changing her diapers, and bathing her. Ryan noticed the man always hovered somewhere in the background, not helping the girl but never taking his eyes off her.
“Would you take her, Daddy?” Kayla asked as she finished feeding the infant. “I need to do my homework.”
The father’s mouth thinned. “Then put her in the playpen. She’ll only scream if I hold her.”
Kayla’s eyes swam with tears, but she carried the baby to a high chair, and put some cereal on the tray before she started reading a text book and making notes on a sheet of paper.
The baby, Ryan noted, didn’t touch the cereal, but watched her sister as closely as the father had.
Wallace summoned more images that showed the father, drinking himself unconscious, the baby teething, and young Kayla falling asleep in class. He watched the times the children had gone hungry as their father spent his wages on drink instead of food. Somehow Kayla always managed to find something to feed Tara, even if it meant asking a neighbor for a cup of milk, or stealing some fruit from a grove on her way home from school.
Many times he saw Kayla crying in her bed, but always sobbing into her pillow so that the baby in the crib beside it would not wake. He also watched her sneaking money out of her father’s wallet while he sat unconscious in his chair, a half-empty bottle still clutched in
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