Tangled (Handfasting) Read Online Free PDF Page A

lifted her chin. “Fey mayhap, and I wished it was anyone but your Ian to
talk to you, but not mad.”
    Maggie
sat down hard on the trunk, uncaring of tusks or branches digging into her
thigh. “Another lass has gone missing.”
    “Aye,
young Ysenda.”  He nodded. “A wee mite of a thing, just as you said, and if you
know where she is, there’s not a soul who cares where the knowing came from, as
long as it takes us to her.”
     
    Again,
she rode a horse, to make the going swift. A rare privilege to these
highlanders but the ache to her head from the jolt of it hurt so bad she could
barely see. Not that the seeing was any good. It all looked the same, the roll
of the land, the harshness of thorny gorse and heather.
    Few
rode, even Talorc was afoot, off-times jogging, leading her mare.  The others,
throngs of people, swept out in long lines, sweeping the area. Most walked,
some had donkeys or ponies. Bagpipes played soul-full notes, as a draw for the
lass.
    Maggie
closed her eyes, fought heaving her last meal and felt grace when her ride
halted.
    That’s
when it came to her, as sharp and clear as a bolt of lightning.
    “Stop!” 
She whispered, not opening her eyes, not looking to see if any listened. “Quiet.”
    Talorc
promised not to tell about her dream, or that she had a ‘feeling’ about where
the lass was, so she didn’t know why they all listened to her, how they even
heard her quiet words, but they did. By signal or look, she didn’t know, her
eyes were closed, but as quick as she spoke the long line of people on either
side of her had stopped. The music wheezed to a close.  Nothing but the sound of
the breeze and a slight whimper.
    “There”
she opened her eyes.  “Do ya’ hear that?”  But they all just stared at her.
    Maggie
slipped from her horse, turned to see the same land as in her dream and she
knew, knew where to look, though half-afraid the lass would be gone, or not
there yet or that the terrifying black cloud would be hanging over the spot. 
Still, she turned and pointed.
    “What?” 
Talorc whispered from beside her.
    “Look,”
she told him and knew the moment he saw, down below them, crumpled on the
ground, what looked to be a pile of plaid that blended so well with the ground
you would miss it if you weren’t certain it was there.
    “Oh
my lord!”  A woman cried. “It’s my Ysenda!  My girl!” 
    As
quickly as they had stilled, everyone shouted and raced for a way down the
steep drop.  One man took no notice but leaped to the ground below, fell then
ran with a hitch to each stride.  Hurt but not halted.
    That
mound of fabric rose, stood, a young girl swaying with weariness.
    “Mama?” 
A meek cry, but there. “Is that you?”  And she tried to run to them, stumbling
and pulling herself up. Her cries threaded through the hoorahs of others.
    Maggie
slipped down, cross-legged, onto the ground, her head in her hands.
    “You
found her, Maggie.”  Talorc crouched beside her.
    “No,
not me.”  Tears blossomed as she felt the fear ripple through her. “The poor
child.  The poor, poor lass.”
    “The
poor lass might have been lost for good if not for you.  We were concentrating
our closer to her home.  We’d not have found her.”  He brushed her hair from
her face. “If not for a fine faerie, do you think?”
    She
swatted at him. He pulled her onto his lap. “No, you’re too big for a faerie. Could
be a Sidhe,” Caught her wrists, held Maggie close while he watched the people
fuss over Ysenda. He continued to tease. “No, not a Sidhe either. It’s a Valkyr,
you are, like the northerners speak of.”
    Laughter
brought pain. “You’re cruel!”  She complained.
    “Not
so cruel to let others know what you were about.”  He was serious now. “I’ve
not told them of your dream, of Ian.”
    “What
of when I asked them to be silent?”
    “You
heard her cries.”
    She
let loose a breath she hadn’t known she held. “Thank you.”  She