Page 50 of Dragon Mine (Dragon Kings 2)
Brandr looked at the Dragon King. Claire screamed as if in more pain than before. Brandr returned his hand to her belly, and she quieted. He felt the contraction moving through her body, but more importantly, he discovered why the bairn had yet to be born.
He swallowed and looked at the couple once more. “Usaeil’s magic caused you to conceive. That magic guaranteed the babe would live to term. But it’s also her magic that’s causing the bairn to remain in your womb.”
“If she wasna already dead, I’d kill her again,” Con said from behind him.
Rhi caught Brandr’s gaze. “Can you help?”
“Do you feel the Fae magic?” he asked.
Rhi shook her head. “Usaeil must have made sure none of us could.”
“I have no’ felt it,” V said. “And I’ve tried.”
Brandr shrugged as he looked at Claire and then V. “I’ve never done this. I’m no’ even sure I can.”
“Please,” Claire begged as her face scrunched in pain with another contraction.
Brandr drew in a deep breath and closed his eyes as he focused on the Fae magic. He called it to him. It clung to the infant in Claire’s womb, refusing to let go. Brandr felt it draining the life from the bairn.
He deepened his focus and demanded that the magic listen to him. The first time it brushed against him, he nearly gagged. It was Dark Fae magic. The evil was sickening, and the more it obeyed him, the more he felt as if he were suffocating. But he didn’t stop. He had to get all of it or the baby would die.
Little by little, he gathered the magic until he had all of it. When he lifted his hand from Claire’s stomach, the magic covered his arm like a black mist. He tried to look at Claire, but his eyes were fuzzy, and his knees started to buckle.
“I’ve got you,” Con said as he supported him.
Brandr suddenly found himself in a chair, dimly aware of the shrill cry of a bairn.
“You did good, son.”
He wanted to tell Con to shove it, but oddly, the words affected him. Brandr didn’t have the energy to think about that now. He concentrated on the magic that crept up his arm. He wanted it gone. His attempts to shake it off were in vain. Then he felt himself falling, sleep pulling him under.
