Magic in the Storm

Two

Two

Heart pounding, blood racing—he was free. Crouching down against the neck of his horse, Apollo, they moved as one. Skirting low branches, leaping over fallen trees, they flew through the forest, taking the sharp turns that threaded them through the closely growing trees.

The wind was hard in Morgan’s face, making his eyes water and his hair fly behind him. This was magic. This was true magic, and nothing could compare. If he closed his eyes, he could almost imagine himself speeding across open fields, down long straight roads, through towns and villages—riding away, far, far away.

Ah, they were approaching the stretch where there was an arrow–straight path through the trees—that beautiful straight–away where they could really run, at least for a short distance. Apollo increased his speed. Morgan knew that the horse was looking forward to this part where he could really stretch out his legs and gallop at full force. Morgan, himself, loved it because he could almost imagine himself free of these towering trees that pressed down on him constantly, never letting him go.

Morgan whispered into Apollo’s ear, “Yes! Go, boy, go.” He encouraged the horse, praising him as they approached the last tree that held them back.

A burst of fire exploded directly in front of them, the sound echoing in his ears.

Morgan’s arm shot up to protect his eyes and face. The horse reared and twisted under him, but instinct kept Morgan seated. He held on as tightly as he could as Apollo fell back onto his forelegs.

Within moments, Morgan was down, off the horse’s back trying to figure out what had just happened. His heart’s pounding reverberated in his ears.

The ground beneath his feet began to rumble with thunder, before the sound could even reach him. Morgan had never felt anything like this before—it was the strength of the earth, just barely contained.

But there was more. There was something… As the thunder rolled away, he heard it, like a voice in the rumbling of sound. It’s coming, be ready!

Morgan spun around, looking everywhere, but there was nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing but the forest surrounding him and the tree in front of him, from which smoke lazily snaked up into air. Following the trail of smoke through the thick canopy of trees, Morgan noticed wisps of grey clouds overhead.

A storm.

The tree had been hit by lightning. But there was more. The message had been clear, but he still didn’t understand it. What was coming?

Whatever it was, Morgan was ready. He had been ready for years. A sudden chill made him shudder for a moment, but it passed quickly. Could this be it? Could this be what he had been waiting for his whole life?

No matter what, he would be ready.

He turned back to Apollo. The horse was still shaken, so Morgan reached down inside of himself for calm.

Yes, that would help him too. It would help him be ready for whatever it was that was coming.

Slowly, gently, he stroked the horse’s soft muzzle, letting the calm flow from his hand into the animal. The horse settled down, but Morgan didn’t. Another flash of lightning lit the deepening gloom that was spreading through the forest in anticipation of the storm. The wind ruffled his hair.

He had work to do. If there was going to be a major storm, he would have visitors seeking his protection—many, many of them.

ANOTHER DEEP ROLL of thunder shook the walls of the old barn, while the wind outside howled with fury as it picked up strength. The door to the barn smashed open and closed behind Morgan. The wooden building groaned at the onslaught.

Apollo whinnied and stomped his hooves in agitation. Morgan turned toward the horse, following his line of vision, but there was nothing—nothing other than a barn full of creatures of every sort.

There had better not be any fighting. Prey and predator were jammed into this too small space, but it would just be for a short time. Surely, they could control their instincts until the storm was over—they had before. But Apollo was clearly agitated.

“What…?” Morgan began, when from somewhere deep within the forest, he heard another horse shriek out in fright. This was followed by a loud crash, and an agonized scream.

One that sounded almost… human.

Morgan froze. How could that be? There was no one in this forest besides him. Neither his cousin nor his old nanny, who sometimes came to visit him, would ride out on a day like today. It must have been an animal.

Still, it was an animal in need. Morgan could almost feel the creature’s pain radiating out, calling to him for help.

And there was something else entwined with the need. Deep within him, he felt the same sensation he had had earlier—a sense of anticipation, of beckoning, of portent.

He looked down at the tiny foal in his arms. The poor thing was shaking with fright, and his mother was gently nipping at Morgan’s shirtsleeve—reminding him that he had been in the middle of doing something when the scream had distracted him.

Looking quickly around the barn filled with the animals he had brought with him and those which had come there on their own, Morgan swallowed a moment of panicked frustration. How were they all going to fit? If any more came… but there would be more, at least two—the horse he had heard and… whatever else had made that scream.

But there just wasn’t space!

Morgan squeezed into Apollo’s stall. The small pile of hay in the front corner would have to do for now. Gently settling the foal in the soft hay, he turned back to his horse. “Sorry about this, but you’ll just have share.”

The horse whinnied resignedly.

With the foal settled, Morgan turned to look for Oberon, his black Labrador.

“Oberon!” Morgan called out. His loud, deep voice caused some of the smaller animals to scurry for cover.

The dog trotted out of the last stall, where Morgan supposed he had been settling in the new litter of pups that a vixen had just brought in.

“I need you to watch over the animals. I’ll be back soon.” The dog barked his assent, and Morgan knew that he was leaving the creatures well cared for.

As soon as he stepped out of the door, Morgan was buffeted by the strong wind. Despite the urgency of the situation, he stopped and took a deep breath of the fresh air basking for a moment in the wonderful anticipation of the storm.

The expectant feeling he had sensed earlier overcame him once again. It was so close. He reached out with his mind. What was it? Then a thought stopped him.

Could it be? Could it be the destiny his nanny had whispered about as she had soothed him to sleep when he was a child? Could it possibly be exactly what he’d been waiting for all these years?

A flash of lightning arched overhead, sending a shiver of anticipation shooting through him. He loved a brilliant storm. It made him feel vibrantly, joyously alive. This new sensation just added fuel to his exhilaration.

Whatever it was that was coming, he would meet it head on.

He set off, running through the forest, weaving in and out of trees, avoiding the branches trying to reach out and grab hold of him. As a clap of thunder shook the ground, he exulted at the sensation. It was incredible to be out and a part of the storm.

His muscles flexed and flowed like the wind as he skipped over fallen debris, ducked under low branches, and moved rapidly through the closely grown forest. Flashes of waving branches caught his peripheral vision, but he kept moving forward toward whatever it was that had called out to him. He was moving toward his destiny—he knew it deep in his heart.

He ran faster, eager to get there—until a large half–fallen tree brought him up short. Morgan urgently shoved his shoulder against the trunk, frustrated at the delay. He needed to get through—now.

Amidst the rustling of the leaves and his own heavy breathing, he heard the horse’s agonized whinny again from somewhere to his left. The tree was wedged in tight. It wouldn’t budge. He would have to find another route, and quickly; the cries were becoming more distinct, urgent. His heart pounded in his ears as he doubled back, looking desperately around for a break in the growth. Within a minute, he found another path, and ran along it as fast as he could.

The sounds were closer. They almost seemed to be grunts or groans rather than cries, but he knew of no animal that would make such sounds. He was nearly there!

Finally, shielding his face with his arms, he leapt through the undergrowth into a newly made clearing. A flash of lightning illuminated the scene before him, but as he stood there panting, he could barely believe his eyes.

A sense of brilliant auburn hair glinting in the lightning—red and a touch of gold mixed in with the soft brown. Deep blue clothed arms reaching out from a slender form.

A girl?

Disappointment dropped in Morgan’s stomach. It wasn’t his destiny that had been calling out to him. His destiny didn’t lie with a girl.

It had been a trick, a cruel trick. He wanted to shout out his frustration. To scream down the heavens. How could this happen? He’d been so sure…

He took a deep breath and pushed aside his disappointment. The woman needed his help. She had called out to him and he, as always, would do everything he could in response.

Morgan took a step closer to her, his eyes flitting around the open space all around her. How odd it was that the trees held back, away from her.

She looked up at him then—and Morgan’s breath caught in his throat. A vibration hummed through his body. Through her pain–filled eyes there was something—something familiar. It was as if he knew her. Surely he’d never met her before. He certainly would have remembered meeting such a beautiful girl.

Her face was framed on one side by a lock of hair that had fallen from the loose knot at the top of her head. If it were not for the contortion of pain on her face, she would have been the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Tears slid over high cheekbones and down creamy white cheeks, falling toward pink lips.

A rush of heat rose within him, and he pulled his eyes away from her face with difficulty.

Pushing aside these peculiar feelings, he focused his mind instead on rescuing her. He instantly saw her problem—a tree had fallen onto her leg, pinning her down. She was trying to push it off, but it was an impossible task, and she moaned and cried with the effort and pain.

She looked up at him again as he approached her, a gust of wind blowing her radiant hair from her face.

He was struck by the allure of her shining green eyes, her tears magnifying the brilliance of their color. The exact color of new leaves in spring, they were filled with a pain that touched his heart.

Squatting down next to the young woman, he stroked away the tension in her face. As he did so, however, heat surged again into his hands and down his body. He swallowed hard, looking deeply into her eyes. They were as familiar to him as his own, and their depths pulled him in. These were eyes he could drown in.

But not now. Now he could feel her pain as if it were his own. He had to help her.

Running his thumbs across her forehead, he wiped away her fears, all the while holding her gaze. Making his voice as soft and soothing as possible, he said, “Be calm. It is all right. I am here.”

He felt her give a deep, shuddering sigh as she quieted, as every animal did at his touch. He then moved to the tree. It was a good–sized one, and had probably been standing in this forest for more than fifty years. Straddling it just next to her, he fitted his hands underneath as far as they would go, and bent his knees.

His eyes still fixed on hers, he said quietly, “When I lift, pull your leg out.”

She nodded her understanding, tears still streaming down her face as a testament to her pain. He took a deep breath, focusing his energies. Muscles knotting at the effort, he lifted the enormous tree trunk.

It was not much, merely a few inches, but it was enough.

The woman quickly backed away so her leg came out from underneath. As soon as she was clear, he let go, and the tree fell once again with a thump and a rustle of leaves.

Morgan knelt next to her as she sat crying softly. He admired her for her forbearance. Still, he did what was natural to him, calming her once again with a stroke of his hands down soft pale cheeks. He knew just how to calm her, how to make her feel better—and it thrilled him that he knew this.

“Calm, now. It is all right,” he said, looking deeply into her eyes and willing his voice to soothe her and ease her fears.

Her breathing slowed, but he could sense that she was still in a great deal of pain.

He moved back to her injured leg and lifted her skirt away just enough to bare her calf. Luckily, the bone had not broken through the skin. All he needed to do was to lay her leg straight once more, the bones aligned with each other.

He wrapped his hands around her delicate leg, to ease away the pain and mend the hurt. He could already feel the tattered tendons, nerves and bone obeying the heat of his touch as they moved together…

And then he stopped, snatching his hands away as if they were burned by her skin.