A Lost Touch of Magic by Amy Tolnitch

By Amy Tolnitch

Hidden in the stone partitions of chateau MacCoinneach is the doubtless quiet realm of Paroseea, but probability now stalks the halls of the citadel, looking vengeance and patiently looking ahead to the go back of the fallen laird. while the ghost of Padruig MacCoinneach’s liked sister sends him again to the highlands and a existence he forswore, he gives you to do something to save lots of his final sister and reduction his extended family. He by no means anticipated, however, that he must marry his ally’s daughter, Aimli, whom he deems either a reckless baby and a effective temptation. jointly they're going to need to triumph over their anger and doubt to discover belief, love, and finally protection for themselves and their clans.

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He opened his eyes wide and coughed as heat shot through his body. ” Magnus’s eyes twinkled. ” Padruig took another sip. ” He eyed Magnus. ” “Aye. ” He spat onto the ground, then lifted a knowing gaze to Padruig. ” Laird. A title he once wore with pride and lost through arrogance. Padruig gritted his teeth and nodded. ” 23 Amy Tolnitch Magnus eyed him closely. “Twill not be easy to take MacCoinneach. Grigor has many loyal to him. Particularly after . ” He fell silent and looked away. Padruig’s throat burned with something other than the potent drink.

Could she somehow be the key to vanquishing Vardon? Sebilla clung to that hope and let her body relax, buoyed by the soft, warm water. For the span of a few moments, she let herself believe that they would succeed in regaining control of Vardon. Before he did something that would bring angry outsiders to the portals of Paroseea. Before he killed more innocents in his quest for power. For if Sebilla knew naught else, she knew Vardon would not stop with simple revenge. He had always lusted for more.

After lighting a brazier set on the terrace, she retrieved a wide copper bowl and a box filled with various plants, herbs, and other sacred objects. She poured clear water from the pool into the bowl, and set it over the fire, then added pinches from her cache. Borage, fennel, fumitory, pennyroyal, rosemary, and mugwort. Lastly, a sprinkle of amber fragments. The water began to simmer and swirl, changing colors as it did. Blues and golds melted into greens, finally leaving the center clear. Sebilla sat cross-legged on a cushion, closed her eyes, and stretched her arms to her sides.

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