Dragonfae & The Soul Catcher Read Online Free PDF Page A

sleep. The shadows in her small cottage often brought back memories of shame and degradation. She pushed the evil men to the back of her mind. I survived and I need never set eyes on a man again.
    Here in daylight, serenity surrounded her within the beauty of the Singing Forest. She watched birds chatter and move between the boughs, jumping from elm to prickly holly. From time to time, field mice would venture too close to Brew, twitch their large ears, and scuttle back to their homes.
    Brew never left her side for very long. Thalia sighed and reached for the sleek black cat. “Brew?” She rolled into a sitting position and searched the meadow. “Brew, where are you?” She got to her feet and peered into the long shadows cloaking the forest. Perhaps he had left to hunt. She bent to pick up her basket, and rearranged the collection of herbs and mushrooms piled on top of a mass of nuts. Today she had visited the walnut tree and collected the splitting green fruit. In truth the walnut tree had been her salvation from hunger. She patted the lattice grey bark of the ash tree. “I will return tomorrow.”
    Taking the normal path towards the little cottage, Thalia broke into song. Today everything in the forest celebrated summer. The rich scent of flowers, damp leaves and the tang of raspberries surrounded her. Ferns, lush and green sprouted in huge clumps. Brightly coloured fungi adorned moss covered trees and delicate white butterfly orchids bloomed in abundance. Magyck filled her, completed her, and, lately, burst forth in uncontrollable streams. She pushed a lock of hair behind one ear and sighed. The previous night she had unsuccessfully tried a spell to produce a small light globe. Without warning, uncontrolled magyck had bounced out of the window and hit the apple tree, ripening the fruit in an instant. The few spells she practised daily would not consume this abundance of power. She stopped to rest the heavy basket on a tree stump and gazed up through the green canopy of trees. I wish I had someone to teach me, Cymbeline.
    What was that? Every muscle froze. The hair on the back of her neck bristled. She strained her ears to catch the sound. The wind tousled her hair and with the rustling of leaves came the deep voice of—a man. Panic closed Thalia’s throat, stifling a scream. She gripped a silver birch tree, fighting for breath. A man—here in the Singing Forest. How could this be possible?
    Men feared this forest. The evil Erik, his expression belying the trepidation inside, had left Thalia on the edge of the woods, too afraid to step beneath the shade of the trees in this sacred place. She had driven the wagon with her meagre belongings away from the soldiers at a gallop, not caring for her own safety. No. This place of the goddess Cymbeline, and now her sanctuary, would not allow a man to enter.
    The voice came again. Thalia turned her head. The Singing Forest covered many miles, and she had yet to explore in that direction. Taking hesitant steps she moved along the unfamiliar path. A mass of yellow butterflies rose up from a cluster of dog violets and danced on the breeze. The sound came again, a soft voice speaking in deep, melodic tones.
    Thalia turned to stare across a small, grassy clearing dotted with blue wing-faced orchids and waves of buttercups. On the perimeter of the woods stood a giant of a man not a pace away from Brew. Oh goddess. She swallowed and pressed hard against the trunk of an ancient oak tree. Taking a deep breath she peeked through the surrounding bracken. Heartbeat pounding in her ears, she drew her magyck around her, and slipped from tree to tree to get closer. You will not hurt my cat. Fear gripped her belly. The king sent this man. No other knows I live in the Singing Forest. Bile rushed up the back of her throat. She fought the desire to run. I cannot leave Brew with this stranger.
    The man bent at the waist and rested his large hands on his hips, his soft words carried on the breeze.