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  Remember The Magic

  Donna Fletcher

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Remember the Magic

  All rights reserved.

  Copyright 2011 by Donna Fletcher

  Printing History

  Berkley Sensation edition / January 2004

  Cover art: The Killion Group

  eBook Format by A Thirsty Mind Book Design

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  http://www.donnafletcher.com/

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  Chapter One

  Silence surrounded Sydney. A strange buzzing sound resonated in her foggy mind and she was unable to focus on her surroundings. A whispered breeze stroked her face and she breathed deeply of the strong scent of pine, birch and berries.

  She was home.

  She stretched her hands out beside her, feeling the thick carpet of grass. She eagerly splayed her fingers in the silky blades and allowed their energy to seep through her. Her vision began to clear and it wasn’t long before her eyes focused on the clear blue sky dotted with bright white puffs of clouds and a brilliant sun whose warmth kissed her face.

  A glance from side to side brought a smile to her face.

  The familiar woods completely embraced her. The tall trees sprouted fresh green leaves, the wildflowers had barely blossomed and the thick green grass was at its freshest.

  Spring and Sydney had arrived in the Highlands together.

  With one last splay of her fingers through the green grass she pushed herself up. Her vision was completely clear and so was her foggy mind.

  “Are you all right?” the soft voice asked.

  Sydney turned and her smile widened. The tiny fairy, who expressed concern for her, sat sprawled out on a large stone. Her head wreath sat askew, the tip of her one wing was bent and her soft blue gossamer dress was twisted around her plump little body.

  Sydney immediately went to her aid. “I should be asking that of you, Beatrice.”

  She helped untwist her dress but gave no thought to her bent wing or tilted wreath—both were common traits for Beatrice. The tiny fairy had watched over her and the Wyrrd family for as long as Sydney could remember, and that was a long time considering Sydney was over six hundred years old.

  Beatrice brushed at her dress after Sydney helped her to stand and attempted to right her head wreath with no success. It remained tilted, resting just above one eye.

  “We made it,” Beatrice said joyfully. “And I must say it is good to be home. I do not know why I enjoyed the 1500s so much. It held such turmoil, strife and bloodshed. Yet there was something about the land and the people that were remarkable.”

  Sydney agreed with a nod. She had been barely two hundred years old in the 1500s. It was a time in her life that held such promise. There was so much to learn, knowledge to gain, life to be lived.

  “Of course,” Beatrice added with a woeful look, “it was not a good time to be a witch.”

  “Was it ever a good time to be a witch?” Sydney thought on her own question. Through the years she had learned it was best not to let people know of her true nature, her beliefs, and her knowledge. And while in the future witches were not persecuted the way they once had been they were also not accepted, as they rightfully should be.

  Witches’ beliefs dated back to the dawn of time and if understood and practiced correctly the world would not be in the turmoil it had consistently been in. But that was not a debatable issue at this time. This was a time she would need to protect herself from the ignorance of common beliefs. Mainly, that witches were in league with the devil.

  The answer was obvious and Beatrice gave no reply. She instead addressed their present and immediate issues. “At least Tempest and Michael sent you back dressed for the occasion and placed you not far from home.”

  Sydney stood and laughed softly. Her dress was familiar though seasoned with her present taste. It was soft cotton in a pale apricot color. It flowed down and around her body, accenting her shape that had shifted over the years but at least had maintained a certain dignity. Her waist remained slim; her breasts, average in size, retained a modicum of firmness and her hips rounded nicely above long slim legs thanks to her five feet, six inch height She certainly was not a youthful two hundred years old but she held her age nicely.

  Pale yellow embroidered Celtic knots trailed along the rounded neckline and down the middle of the long sleeves and then again around the hem. Soft leather sandals covered her feet and her glorious long dark hair lay in a braid to the center of her back.

  “What now?” Beatrice asked, rising up to flit in front of Sydney.

  Sydney lost no time in taking charge of the situation. “We go to the cottage and then we must discover the date of our return.”

  Beatrice agreed with a quick nod and flew ahead of Sydney, on the lookout for any possible danger.

  Sydney gave thought to her present situation and her reason for returning in time. Two powerful witches and friends—Tempest and Michael—had gifted her with a second chance at love. Tempest was an ancient witch born with the dawn of time. She was the Ancient One. Her powers were unsurpassed and she only took on those students she chose to teach over the years.

  Sydney had been lucky to be one of the chosen ones and Tempest had taught her well.

  She had been pleased to be able to offer her own assistance when Tempest required help. A warlock Tempest had once loved and banished until a time he was given a second chance had returned to her and Sydney gave prudent and much needed advice to her. In appreciation for all she had done for the two powerful witches, together they had opened a portal in time and returned her to a time and place where she too would have a second chance at love.

  Duncan.

  Her heart beat with the thought of him. He had been a clan chieftain, a brave warrior and an honorable man. She had loved him with all her heart and he had loved her, but when he had discovered that she was a witch he had warned her not to use any spells on him. She had attempted to explain that any spell cast could only prove successful if it benefited the individual. No spell that caused harm could be cast.

  Harm none was the belief of the Craft. But then there were those who practiced the dark side and caused the burning times to descend upon the innocent.

  She thought he had believed her, but something had gone terribly wrong and she had fled, feeling if she stayed she would only bring him harm. That had been almost five hundred years ago. Now she had returned to try again.

  Beatrice flitted in her face, her full cheeks flushed and her smile wide. “The cottage is as it was. It waits for you.”

  Sydney did not think that the sight of a small, one-room cottage could cause her excitement. But then it was more the memories the place held that made the return so pleasant than the actual cottage itself.

  She made her way a few feet ahead through the dense woods to a small clearing and came upon the cottage. She stared in awe. It was made of stone and covered by a thatched roof. Windows occupied either side of the thick wooden door and a stout stone chimney stretched up from the thatched roof.

  Several minutes passed before she moved and she purposely took slow steps. She had not expected to see this home again and she had not expected the onslaught of memories. A tear threatened to spill, but she took a deep breath and refused to give it reign. She had grown in power and knowledge in the last few hundred years and looking back she could understand her youthful mistakes, and how necessary they
had been. How would she have learned if she had never made mistakes?

  And now she had a chance to correct a youthful mistake.

  She smiled at the thought and grew eager, her steps hurrying her to the cottage door. Her hand hesitated only a moment on the metal handle and then she entered with a flourish.

  Beatrice flew past her, flitting from corner to corner sprinkling the place with a protection of fairy dust. “It pays to be careful.” She flew under the narrow bed to toss a handful beneath and was expelled in a flash, her own hard sneeze sending her flying across the room to land in a small black cauldron.

  Before Sydney reached her the little fairy stood up and braced her plump arms on the lip of the cauldron. Her crooked wing was a bit more crooked and her head wreath completely covered one eye. She pushed it up and out of her way, forcing it with a hard shove to rest on the back of her head. “Dusting confined places always does that to me.”

  Sydney laughed. She was so very glad to have Beatrice with her on this sojourn. She did not feel so alone. She had a friend, a good, dear friend who would be there for her when needed.

  “The place looks good,” Beatrice said and flew up and out of the cauldron.

  “I agree.” Sydney gave the room a glance, noting that it looked as she remembered it. A single bed with a straw mattress sat tucked in one corner of the room. Wooden chests in various sizes were spread throughout, a fair-sized one sitting next to the bed with several candles in holders on top of it. A wooden table sat in front of the stone fireplace though there was enough room for a wooden rocker in between. Several barren tree branches rested on the overhead rafters and dried bunches of herbs tied solidly hung down from them. A narrow table to the left of the door held crocks of roots, bark, berries and more, and to the other side of the door closer to the bed hung pegs that held several garments.

  Sydney laughed again. “My wardrobe certainly has improved over the years.”

  Beatrice gave her a thoughtful smile. “Do you think you will have a problem with a limited wardrobe? I know how much pride you take in your appearance.”

  “With a few extra adjustments of my own I think I will do just fine.”

  Beatrice pushed at her tilted wreath. “Then Tempest and Michael returned you with your full powers intact?”

  Sydney’s eyes rounded. “I had not given that thought.”

  She felt a brief moment of panic. What if she had returned with the limited powers of a young witch? She had, after all, been given a second chance to right her youthful mistake and wouldn’t that mean with the powers she had possessed at that time?

  “Only one way to find out,” Beatrice said and flew over to plop down on the bed out of Sydney’s way. “Make magic.”

  Sydney did not waste a moment. With a brief wave of her hand the fire was lit in the fireplace, the candles flickered brightly and water bubbled in the cauldron that hung from the hook in the fireplace.

  Beatrice shook her head. “Amateur stuff.”

  For a moment Sydney appeared deflated, but only a moment. She pushed up her sleeves, walked over to the crock of berries, scooped up a handful and marched out of the cottage.

  Beatrice followed close behind, rubbing her two tiny hands together. “This should be good.”

  Sydney stood a few feet from the cottage and extended her hands out. She turned in four directions and gave a respectful nod to the brilliant sun before she cast a spell that only a powerful and knowledgeable witch could successfully cast.

  “Hear me forest; hear me call; to all those creatures large and small; come take from my hand so that you may know; 1 am friend and not foe; I will protect; I will provide; know that from me; you need never hide.”

  Sydney waited for the animals to approach her. If they did not then her powers would be severely limited. She waited patiently, hoping, praying and then...

  She smiled, for a rabbit peeked from behind a thick thatch of bushes. A bird swooped down, ignored the berries but tested her pledge of friendship and snatched a loose thread off her dress. A wide-eyed doe stood beside a tree for a moment, her two fawns tucked safely behind her and when she felt it was safe she and her fawns approached Sydney and fed from her hand. Other animals soon gathered around her and those who feed on berries ate from her hand, those who did not she offered water from the rain barrel beside the cottage.

  Beatrice grew teary-eyed, for it took powerful magic to call the animals of the forest to you and offer them protection.

  Each creature now knew that Sydney would at any time provide and protect them.

  Sydney sent a silent blessing to Tempest and Michael for allowing her to retain her full powers and with a pleased smile she turned to Beatrice.

  All color suddenly drained from the tiny fairy’s face and Sydney stilled, knowing something was wrong—then she heard the snarl.

  Sydney turned slowly around and her breath caught. There only a few feet away stood a black wolf. He was the largest wolf she had ever seen. He was well fed, his fur shiny and smooth, his eyes a brilliant green and his teeth sharp and threatening. He had to be the alpha male of his pack and yet Sydney got the feeling he was a loner, traveling a solitary path.

  “I offer you shelter and protection when needed,” she said softly and picked up the crock she had filled with water from the barrel and that remained half full and took a few steps toward him to place it on the ground. She then backed away.

  The black wolf growled for a few seconds more, and then accepted the offering. He finished the water, stared at Sydney’s bright green eyes then turned and disappeared into the forest.

  She knew they would be friends.

  Beatrice wiped her perspiring brow as she flitted in front of Sydney. “I was uncertain there for a minute.”

  “As was he.”

  “But he accepted your offer and this is good for he will protect you as you will protect him.”

  Sydney felt pleased. “Yes, we will help each other and I am relieved to know that my powers are fully intact.”

  “This is good, for we have much work to do,” Beatrice said, determined. “It is time to reunite you and Duncan.”

  Sydney placed a hand to her stomach to still the flutter. “I wonder when in my relationship with Duncan that Tempest and Michael returned me to. Is it before we met, is our relationship in progress?” She shook her head. “This is what I must discover.”

  “You have a plan?”

  “Better than a plan, I have a spell.”

  “Wait,” Beatrice warned. “Let me check the area.”

  It was very necessary that Sydney remember where she was and the beliefs of the era. Some believed in the old ways but hid their beliefs out of necessity; others believed the lies they were fed. It was so much easier for the ignorant to lay blame on the innocent when times turned difficult. How simple it was to use fear to cause mass hysteria thus causing chaos and the burning times.

  Beatrice lighted on Sydney’s shoulder. “The animals linger to watch you, but I neither see nor do I sense any humans nearby.”

  “Good, then it is safe.”

  Beatrice flew off to rest on a nearby tree trunk and watch Sydney cast the spell that would seal her fate.

  Sydney slowly raised her hands to the sky, parted them until it looked as though she cupped the blazing sun in her hands and then she spoke clearly and distinctly.

  “Powers of light; powers of time; bring to me he who once was mine; have him remember me; and remember the magic that used to be; unite our hearts once again; so that our souls may fully mend; when our joining is as one; know the magic has begun.”

  She closed her eyes as she lowered her arms to her sides and a single tear slipped from her eye. “I have done it and it cannot be undone. It begins and no one can stop it now. I have one chance, only one chance.”

  Beatrice watched Sydney walk off into the forest and let her be. She needed time to herself. Beatrice would wait and be there for her when necessary.

  Sydney walked into the woods, her th
oughts heavy along with her emotions. Was she doing the right thing and what of Duncan? How would he feel? She had not thought this through. She had simply accepted the second chance given her. She had no choice now but to see it through.

  She continued walking without regard to her destination or her surroundings. Her only thought was of Duncan and when she would see him again. It could be weeks, days or minutes.

  Her head came up swiftly thinking she heard footsteps. She saw no one, but a tingle ran over her body and she tensed.

  Someone was in the woods with her.

  Chapter Two

  Sydney remained still, listening to her surroundings. The forest seemed to accommodate her for it remained as quiet as she did. Not a leaf swayed or a bird chirped or an animal budged. And whoever was in the woods with her listened with the same stillness for not a sound could be heard. Her only choice was to carefully survey the surrounding area and see if her heightened awareness could help her discover her unknown visitor. Slowly she turned her head to the side and glanced at the strand of trees and flourishing bushes, catching a dark shape hovering near a large stone.

  His eyes were sharp and intent upon her.

  “You follow me,” she said. “I wish to be your friend and I think you want me as a friend.”

  The black wolf kept his bright green eyes on her, his head low, his legs braced as if ready to attack or flee in haste.

  Sydney remained calm for she understood the animal meant her no harm; he was but curious and strangely enough protective of her. She sensed it in him and felt the same for him.

  “What shall I call you?” She thought on it as he kept a steady eye on her. “You deserve a powerful name for you are a powerful creature. An ordinary name will not suit you.” She thought a moment more then smiled. “I think I have a good name for you.”

  She cautiously approached him, her steps slow yet steady. “Finn. He was a great Irish warrior, a legend, and none could match his daring, magic or knowledge. His power was unsurpassed.”

  He made no move to run; he remained as he was, prepared to fight or flee.