Free Highland Sorcerer by Clover Autrey Page A

Charity scraped
her teeth across her bottom lip. "A little. This was in the
center." She traced a spiral in the dirt then added a jagged line
shooting off its end. "It glowed. Do you know it? Will you be able
to get the bands off of him?"
    "That's Aldreth's mark, her family's
symbol. 'Tis very old, very powerful. The mark of the High Sorcerer
of Alduein. If 'tis that which binds my brother, he could not
overcome it. 'Tis a wonder he was able to break free long enough to
travel upon time. Do ye remember more? If I can see what
combination the witch has spelled it with, I may be able to unravel
the binding properties enough to get him free."
    Charity's stomach dropped like a stone.
"I'm sorry. I don't remember."
    Forehead puckered, Edeen's lips pinched
tight. "Mayhap I can help. I can guide ye to the memory of
it."
    As an empath, sifting through memories
should pose no challenge, but…Charity wasn't crazy about letting
someone traipse freely around inside her head. She hadn’t been too
thrilled when she thought Toren had felt her emotions when she had
felt his. It was just…personal. "Okay."
    Edeen's eyes narrowed.
    "Yes, I'll do it."
    "Just like that?"
    "Just like that. I've told you, I came
here to help Toren."
    Frowning, Edeen nodded and reached for
her hand. When Charity stiffened, Edeen smiled. "'Twill not be
painful."
    "Okay, yeah. It's just—" She shook her
hands. "It's a little weird."
    She wasn't sure what she expected, but
the quiet nothing wasn't it. Edeen closed her eyes so Charity
guessed she was meant to do the same.
    And sat there,
waiting…expectant.
    She opened one eye to see if anything
had changed. Edeen remained across from her, serene, breathing
evenly, with her eyes still closed.
    Charity closed her own again and
thought of Toren. She worried about him. Every moment she spent
safe here in this stupid wigwam, he was suffering beneath Aldreth's
hand—and she hadn't even healed him in this renewed timeline, given
him the respite he'd traveled so far through time to
receive.
    He still suffered at this moment with
broken ribs and with the way his body hung from his wrists it had
to be excruciating.
    Maybe she shouldn't have changed
things, but rather left the original timeline alone.
    An image of their first meeting flooded
her mind, where she had healed him and something indefinable passed
between them. Charity ached for that connection again, for his
strength and compassion, even his vulnerability and fear of what
might become of his people should he give in.
    Once more she saw him as he'd been in
the dungeon. Aldreth torturing him while he hung from the gray wall
by the bands glowing at his wrists.
    Charity started.
    This was it. Edeen had somehow guided
her back to this memory. The girl's magical touch was so light, so
subtle, she hadn't known the girl was present or was in fact
prodding her to where she needed to go. Amazing talent.
    All right then. Let's do this. Charity
focused everything she had on the glowing bands. Her vision
sharpened, seemed to zoom in on Toren's wrists. The veins at the
inside of his wrist that she could see, pulsed blue. His skin was
red and swollen. She looked at the thick leather bands, at the
glowing forms.
    Triangles with slashes. Crescent moons
facing each other. She couldn't make out the other half of a
squiggly line that curved around to the front, hidden next to the
gray stone. They needed to see the rest of it.
    Aldreth plunged a hand upon Toren's
chest. He stiffened, screamed. Charity's sight jerked to his pained
face, her heart swelling with compassion for him. Anger at the
witch. This wasn’t happening now, she reminded herself. It was only
a memory. She forced herself to look away and focus on the symbols.
His wrist pulled against the band, twisted—
    Charity fell forward. Her palms crushed
the ground. Edeen had fallen beside her, her breathing labored. Her
face was too pale. She didn't look good at all.
    Charity felt the girl's neck for her
pulse.
    The blanket