Free Mortal Magick by Patty Taylor

would be kind enough to help her find her way back to Colin and the campfire. Sharp pains raced across the top of her forehead, making her brows cease. Everything became fuzzy. She smacked her cheeks trying to stay awake. Sleep beckoned. She struggled, fighting to hold back the built-up dam of tears waiting to burst. Thoughts of Beth and home filled her mind.
    Her body trembled, and she sprawled on the ground sobbing. Hot tears stung her eyes. Emotional defeat finally took over and won.
    Cold and miserable, she held her head up and sniffled. “Please, is anyone out there?”
    Still, no one replied. She must have imagined the male voice, hoping that Duncan would show up. Exhausted, she laid back down, resting her cheek against a cold clump of something slimy. Please let it be a bed of green moss .
    Her fingers shook, clutching the slim handle of the sharp object she’d fallen on top of. She squeezed the smooth wooden rod while rubbing her eyelids with the backs of her other hands.
    She blinked, her eyes still blurry. She swore she spied two immense splayed hooves shuffling back and forth in front of her. She opened her mouth to scream and realized she’d lost her voice.
    “Duncan, me good friend. Ye need to keep a better eye on this stubborn young wench.”
    She did hear someone. The stranger sounded amused. She blinked several times trying to focus and find Duncan.
    “Aye, I’m afraid the lass seems to be somewhat a determined sort.”
    Keara heard Duncan’s deep voice as her eyes closed and a thick blanket of darkness settled over her.
    Duncan knelt, checking her pulse in the side of her neck with his fingers. He noticed uneven welts on her face. His nostrils flared with fury. The mere thought of Keara’s perfect face flawed by the hands of the evil Gabrielle, made his body shake with rage. Taking the arrow with the golden tip from her hand, he broke it in half between his fingers.
    “She’ll be fine come morn.” Tiny gnarled fingers grabbed his wrist.
    Duncan jerked his head and peered into a pair of beady emerald eyes gaping back at him. His good friend Darby stood beside him. Born part Fae and part brownie, the mischievous wee character usually kept himself busy tendin’ to the needs of wild creatures and concoctin’ healin’ potions from the bounty of nature’s forests. The frizzy haired three-foot little man peered over top of a crooked pair of broken spectacles in dire need of repair.
    “That wee scratch will heal soon enough.” His bronze-skinned face wrinkled with a scowl. “Aye, ‘tis the poisonous seed that treacherous witch planted in yer friend’s mind ye need to be worryin’ about.”
    Duncan clenched his fists, and a low growl rumbled deep in his throat. “Just what did ye witness, Darby? I swear, if that wicked Gabrielle so much as . . .”
    “Calm down, friend.” The little man removed a tiny acorn-shaped bottle from a pocket in front of his frayed waistcoat and handed it to him. “'Tis a wee bit more drops of one of me favorite sleeping potion in case ye be needin’ em.”
    Darby chuckled. His pint-sized feet shuffled through crisp fallen leaves and found a stocky stump to sit on. With a grin on his face, his fingers reached for a leaf floating like a feather in front of his face. “The bonny lass is a might feisty one. Ye’d have been proud if ye’d seen the way she stood up to the she-devil. Aye, and a good job she did at that.”
    Duncan gritted his teeth, attempting to remain calm. He knew from past experience Darby was the type who enjoyed being humored. Patience was one virtue Duncan failed to possess. He remembered the first time he laid eyes on Darby. After the initial shock of transforming into the nocturnal beast, Darby stood by him and coached him through the difficult transitioning period. Even the animals that roamed the forests fled in fear from the sight of his beast. He owed the brownie a lot for helping him over the years. The codger was well over a few centuries