Page 7 of Child of the Grove

Chapter Six

 

  "Tayer, we're lost. We'll never find our way back. "

  "Oh, do be quiet, Hanna. I'm trying to think. "

  "But what about bandits? We could be killed. Or worse!" The girl's voice rose to a piercing wail.

  "Hanna!" Tayer turned in her saddle and glared at her cousin. "There are no bandits in the Lady's Wood. And if you'll just be quiet for a moment, we may be able to hear the horns and find our way back to the hunt. "

  Hanna sniffed but stopped wailing. All her life she'd followed the older, stronger-willed girl and now habit conquered fear.

  "If we could only see the sun, " Tayer mused, standing in her stirrups and squinting up into the thick summer foliage, "at least then we'd know which way we were heading. " But the sky was overcast and what showed through the leaves was a uniform gray.

  "It'll probably rain. "

  "Oh, Hanna!" Tayer's laugh lightened the wood's darkness for a moment, and it almost seemed the birds fell silent to hear. Songs without number had been written about the laugh of the Princess of Ardhan. Every bard in the kingdom, and not a few from outside, had tried to immortalize the sound. They'd never quite managed it. As had been said more than once, the sound, although beautiful beyond compare, was nothing really without the princess. Strands of gold wove through the thick chestnut of her hair, flecks of gold brightened the soft brown of her eyes, and a sprinkle of gold danced across the cream of her cheeks.

  She was the youngest of the three children of the king, the only daughter, and the image of her dead mother.

  The king counted her amongst the treasures of his kingdom.

  Hanna's pale, delicate beauty had always been overshadowed by her cousin's-what chance had a violet against a rose, even one just barely budded-but she appeared content living in the light of reflected glory.

  The four generations since the death of Milthra and Raen had wiped out all overt physical resemblances to the hamadryad in the Royal House of Ardhan, but nevertheless differences remained. When Rael, at sixty-four, took his mother's road and followed his beloved into death, he had looked like a man of less than forty. His son was seventy-five when he finally married and one hundred and thirty-five when he died. The blood of the Eldest could not keep Lord Death away indefinitely, but it certainly delayed his coming.

  In those four generations, the Lady's Wood had become just another forest, distinguished only in that Royal Law forbade the cutting of any living tree within its boundaries. In this generation, it had become the favorite hunting ground of the Court.

  A bird with snowy white plumage, startling against the deep green of the forest's summer canopy, had separated Tayer and Hanna from the rest of the hunt. Tayer had thought it so unusual, and so beautiful, she rode off after it to get a better look; Hanna trailing, as always, along behind. When the bird disappeared, seemingly between one tree and the next, they were in a part of the forest completely unfamiliar to them and hopelessly lost.

  A certain heaviness in the air, a waiting stillness, said Hanna's fear ol rain was not wholly brought about by depression. The horses' ears lay flat and the animals had to be urged down the trail. Heavy underbrush clutched at the girls' clothing and the horses' legs with sharp, damp fingers. No birds sang and even the leaves hung still. The sounds of the horses' hoofs on the forest floor were muffled and indistinct.

  Silence shrouded the forest.

  Thunder shattered the air.

  The horses went wild. Hanna screamed and dropped her reins, but Tayer hung grimly on and fought to control her plunging mount.

  For what seemed like hours, Tayer's world collapsed to the space between her horse's ears, the reins cutting into her fingers, and the saddle trying to escape from between her legs. Finally the mare stood, trembling but calm, and Tayer turned to check on her cousin.

  She wasn't there. She wasn't anywhere in sight.

  A trail of broken branches and crushed underbrush showed the direction Hanna's horse had taken in its panicked flight and Tayer thought she could hear, very faintly, her name being called in desperation. Over and over.

  Concern and anger chased each other across Tayer's face as she stared at the destruction. Finally, she sighed and swung out of the saddle to better guide the mare around on the narrow trail. She dearly loved Hanna but sometimes wished the girl would learn to cope on her own. It never occurred to her that she dominated Hanna's life so thoroughly there was rarely anything, besides Tayer, for Hanna to cope with.

  "She rides as well as I do, " Tayer muttered to Dancer, the mare, maneuvering until they could get off the trail at the same place. "There's no need for this. " She remounted and urged the horse forward.

  Dancer picked her way delicately along the line of destroyed underbrush, avoiding the spiky ends of broken branches. Tayer kept her eyes on the forest ahead, hoping for a view of her cousin's pale blue jacket amid the greens and browns.

  The second crack of thunder was, if possible, louder than the first. This time Dancer would not be controlled and she took off on a panic-stricken flight of her own. Tayer could only try and keep her seat and pray the horse wouldn't stumble and fall. A branch whipped her across the face and her eyes filled with tears.

  When she could see again, it was too late to avoid the heavy limb hanging low in the path of the frightened animal. Tayer had only a brief glimpse of bark and moss and leaves and then the branch swept her from the saddle. Gasping for breath, and more frightened than she'd ever been in her life, she was miraculously unhurt by the blow and would have walked away only badly bruised had the trees not been so close together where she fell. She screamed as a stub of wood slammed needle-sharp into her shoulder and then the back of her head came down on a protruding root, almost as hard in its gnarled age as stone. For a while, she knew no more.

  Drifting in the gray mists just this side of unconsciousness, Tayer felt strong arms lift her effortlessly and cradle her against something that smelled of leather and earth. She giggled weakly, for although she was securely held, the tip of each foot dipped to touch the ground with every step her rescuer took and it struck her as funny that one so strong could be so short. She tried to open her eyes, but the lids refused to obey. Her head lolled back against the stranger's shoulder and the gray turned black.

  When the darkness lifted for the second time, she felt herself upon the softest of beds where gentle hands cleaned and treated her throbbing shoulder.

  These were not the hands that had carried her; she was sure of it although she had no idea of how she knew. Beneath these hands her body trembled and it seemed she had waited all her life for their touch. She gave herself up to the golden glow they wrapped about her, but the reality of her injuries could not be denied for long and pain pulled her from that sanctuary.

  As she became aware of the ache in her shoulder and the fire that burned in her head, she also became aware of an arm across her back raising her lips to touch the edge of something wet and cool.

  "Drink, " said someone softly, and she did, never even considering questioning the voice.

  The cup held only water, but drinking it she thought she had never tasted water before. It was like drinking light, or liquid crystal, and it washed all the pain away. The sound and smell of the forest was around her still but, rather than feeling the terror her recent experience should have demanded, she had never felt so safe. It reminded her of being very young and held securely in the circle of her mother's arms. As her head was gently lowered, Tayer opened her eyes.

  Sunlight slanted down through the leaves of the tree that towered above her.

  She struggled to her elbows- helped by that same arm across her back, which withdrew as she steadied-and looked around.

  She lay in a clearing ringed with silver birch in their full summer glory and filled with soft golden light. Either the storm had ended or it had never penetrated the circle. The stillness here was peaceful, not ominous. Thick grass covered the ground w
here she rested-soft and springy and unlike any she had ever seen before.

  And he who went with the voice. . . Never had Tayer seen a man so beautiful. His hair fell to his shoulders in a white so pure it surrounded his head with a nimbus of light. His skin was the color of old copper and his body was so well proportioned he seemed more an artist's conception than a real man. And his eyes. . . Tayer caught her breath when she met his eyes. It looked as if the sunlight poured through them as it did through the leaves of the birch above her and she felt herself sinking into the glory of the other world they showed.

  She could have stayed within those eyes forever, but her arms gave out and she collapsed to the grass, the spell broken.

  "You are weak, " he said, stroking her forehead.

  "Rest. " Tayer felt his touch resonate through her body. Her soul sang, a harp string he had played upon, only she did not, as yet, understand the song.

  "Who are you?" she sighed as her eyes closed.

  "I am Varkell, " came the answer. "I am a part of the Grove. "

  She wanted to ask if she would see him again, but her mind felt wrapped in amber and she couldn't get her voice to work. The last thing she saw was a corn-passionate smile and then she slept.

  When she awoke, she was in her bed in the palace.

  "But you believe me. "

  "Of course I believe you. " Hanna adjusted her sling and settled more comfortably amongst the pillows on the lounge. "It's exactly the sort of thing that would happen to you. " The faintest shade of resentment colored her voice and she punched at an overstuffed pink square with her good arm. "Like something out of a fairy tale. "

  Tayer turned from the window, where she'd been straining her eyes to see the distant line of trees, and smiled dreamily. "That's exactly what it was like.

  Like something out of a fairy tale. "

  Hanna sighed. The healer, a man of undeniable skill but little imagination, had explained that the silver-haired man with the leaf-green eyes was probably a hallucination caused by the bump on her cousin's head. He'd also said that the scar puckering the smooth curve of Tayer's shoulder was an old wound, long healed. Hanna hadn't argued, because it wasn't her way, but she knew there had been no scar when they rode out for the day's hunt. And if the part about the wounded shoulder was true, she saw no reason to doubt the rest.

  "Maybe he was a woodsman, " she said in her most matter-of-fact tone, knowing full well that no woodsman would dare to venture so far into the Lady's Wood.

  "He said he was a part of the Grove, " Tayer declared, soft lips curving at the memory.

  "But no one has been to the Sacred Grove for years, not since the Lady died.

  No one even knows where it is! And I should think, " Hanna added, remembering long hours of lessons,

  "that if a priest tended the Grove, the Scholars would've told us. "

  "There were birch trees all around, and green and gold sunlight, and the music of the wind in the leaves. "

  Hanna gazed at her cousin in astonishment. Tayer was staring into space, her eyes focused on something Hanna couldn't see, her head cocked to hear a song Hanna couldn't hear.

  "He was so beautiful. " Tayer's voice caressed the words. Her hand reached out to stroke a cheek that wasn't there. "He looked into me. "

  "The Lady was very beautiful, " Hanna said thoughtfully, trying to bring Tayer's experience into line with what they'd been taught about the Grove, "and tall, with silver hair and green eyes and her sisters were the same.

  Maybe it was one of the other hamadryads who tended you. Are you sure it was a man?"

  Tayer's eyes lost their dreamy look and gained a mischievous sparkle.

  "Oh, I'm very sure, " she said, standing and shaking out the red velvet folds of her skirt. "He was naked. I can't stand to be inside any longer, I'm going for a walk in the garden. "

  "Naked! You never mentioned that before!" The princess turned in the doorway and ran a finger up and down the vines carved around the frame. "Would you have mentioned to your father and brothers that the man who found you unconscious in the woods was naked? Besides, it didn't seem important at the time. " Then she laughed and was gone.

  "Well it would have been important to me, " Hanna muttered at her cousin's departing back.

  "What would've been important to you, little one?" asked Mikhail, entering the room through the other door.

  "The man Tayer met in the woods was naked. " "The hallucination?"

  Hanna got to her feet. "I don't think she was seeing things, " she said with a conviction that was quite unlike her.

  Mikhail took his sister firmly by the shoulders and sat her back down. "Tell me about it, " he commanded.

  As he listened, Mikhail paced. He was fair, like Hanna, but where she was the pale gold and blue of early morning he was the tawny gold and violet of a sunset. Like all the children of the Royal House, he was tall, for height was one of the Lady's gifts, but where Hanna and his cousins were sapling-slender he had the bulk of an ancient oak. Although generations removed and thinned by marriage, the power of the tree was still his. Coupled with his massive frame, this heritage gave him the strength to create legends. His black sword was dwarf-crafted, the only such blade in the kingdom, and the tale of how he won it was sure to be told any time men gathered and ale flowed. Mikhail found the tales an embarrassment and would retreat, ears burning, from any praise. As he told Tayer's brothers; "It's no great feat to split a man in half with one mighty blow when you're twice his size with the strength of the Lady and a magic sword to boot.

  " As the only warrior in the royal family, both by choice and inclination, Mikhail commanded the Elite.

  He moved restlessly from window to window as Hanna told him of the scar and of all she and Tayer had discussed that morning. From the way he twisted and crushed his heavy leather belt, Hanna could tell he wasn't pleased with Tayer's strange experience.

  "Has there ever been a man in the Sacred Grove, Mikhail?"

  "Not that I ever heard of, only the Lady and her sisters. And the Lady is dead and her sisters are asleep. "

  Hanna sighed and shook her head. "So if it was a man, Tayer must have been seeing things. " And if those were the kind of visions a bump on the head caused, she would be more inclined to fall off her own horse in the future. The visions caused by a broken arm were tedious in comparison. "Still, we could've been in the right part of the forest. "

  "By King's Law, " Mikhail reminded her, "no one has been to the Grove since the Lady died. " He raised a foot to kick a delicately carved footstool out of his way, thought better of it and stepped around. "Not even those of us who bear her blood know its location. "

  "But we all know it's in there, " Hanna insisted. "We all know it isn't just a story. "

  "Aye. " Mikhail stopped his pacing and stood at the window where Tayer had stood earlier, his gaze also trying to pierce the dark line of trees. "But I've hunted all over that area, been through the forest and to the Great Lake on the other side, and I've never found the Grove. "

  "Perhaps it didn't want to be found. " "Perhaps. "

  "Do you think Tayer was seeing things?" He turned from the window and looked down at his sister. His face was troubled. "No. "

  And they both remembered the scar. The healer had insisted that Tayler had carried the mark since childhood, but they knew better. "Where is she now?"

  "She went for a walk in the gardens. " Hanna watched her brother's departing back with concern. He thought no one suspected, but she knew him too well to be fooled. There were times when his love shone from his eyes like a beacon and Hanna wondered how Tayer had not been blinded by the intensity of the light. Tayer, used to being adored, had never noticed.

  On his way to the garden, Mikhail considered all that Hanna had said. Tayer was vain and willful, he was not the sort to let love blind him to another's faults, but she had never been a liar. She'd never even had to resort to the small lies children use to m
ake themselves important; from the day of her birth she'd been the darling of the court. If Tayer said she saw a naked man in Lady's Wood, then that's exactly what she saw.

  But why did she not want her father and brothers to know? He could think of only one reason.

  He scowled and growled low in his throat, so frightening a young servant hurrying by on some errand of her own, that she dropped the tray she carried and pressed herself against the wall one fist in her mouth to stop a shriek.

  Mikhail stared at her in astonishment, then, realizing that her terror was directed at him, blushed and bent to retrieve her tray.

  "You mustn't mind me, " he said, wincing inwardly as the girl continued to stare at him with wide eyes.

  "No, milord?" She gave a tiny, jerky bow as she took back her tray.

  "No. I was thinking of something else and didn't even know you were there. "

  He smiled down at her, the last of his anger fading behind his embarrassment.

  She tried a tentative smile in return. "As you say, milord. "

  It suddenly occurred to him that he had no idea of which garden Tayer had gone to and there were at least half a dozen scattered about the palace. "You, uh, haven't seen the princess, have you?"

  Although Hanna was equally a princess, the princess could only refer to Tayer.

  "Yes, milord. I saw her enter the small walled garden behind the new archives in the south wing. "

  "Thank you. " Mikhail smiled again and headed toward the maze of corridors that would take him to the recently added south wing.

  The servant stood for a moment, watching him go, her expression remarkably similar to that Mikhail's sister had worn moments before. The emotional entanglements of royalty were not her concern, but the look on his face when he mentioned the princess sent shivers down her spine. She sighed and went on her way, wishing that someday, someone, would look at her like that.

  Mikhail stepped into the late afternoon sunlight of the garden and the color drained from his face. Tayer lay crumpled on the path, pale skin made paler by the deep crimson pool of her skirts. He dove across the tiny courtyard and threw himself to his knees by her side, a trembling hand reaching out to touch the smooth column of her throat. Beneath his fingers, her life throbbed fast but sure.

  "You called, milord?"

  "No, I. . . " Mikhail looked up at the gray-robed Scholar. The noise he'd made as he moved had not been a call exactly, but. . . "Uh, I mean yes, I called. Get a healer. The princess has fainted. "

  "In bed for a week? But I feel fine!"

  "Of course you do, Princess, which is why you were taking a nap in the roses. "

  "I just fainted. "

  "Precisely my point. " The healer motioned for the maid to close the heavy brocade curtains and, with the room darkened, waved a candle before Tayer's face. "Follow the light with your eyes, please. "

  "The Lord Chamberlain's wife faints all the time and she doesn't have to stay in bed. "

  "Just with your eyes, Princess. Don't turn your head. The Lord Chamberlain's wife is a weak, foolish woman who thinks fainting makes her interesting. You have received a nasty blow to the head. Not the same thing at all. " He blew out the candle. "In bed for a week. No riding for a month. " "A month?"

  "A fall from a garden bench is one thing, a fall from a horse is something else entirely. It is, if you recall, what got you into this mess in the first place. "

  "Oh, please, you can't mean it. " Tayer looked up at him through her lashes, her lower lip beginning to quiver. Women less beautiful than Tayer had destroyed whole countries with that look. The healer, however, was more concerned with the way her pupils were dilating as the maid threw back the curtains and flooded the room with light.

  "Of course, I mean it, " he said, apparently satisfied for he turned to go. "I always say what I mean. No riding for a month. "

  Tayer pleaded, pouted, and petitioned her father, but the verdict stayed the same: visits around town in a litter were permitted but riding was not.

  One could not go to the forest in a litter.

  Used to being active, the princess was unbearable as an invalid. With riding denied her, there just wasn't that much that she could do. She had little interest in statecraft and the public duties of the third child of the Royal House were few and far between.

  "If I have to set one more stupid tapestry stitch, I shall scream!" Tayer leaped to her feet and darted about the room, almost bouncing from the walls.

  "There must be something else I can do. "

  Hanna sighed and bent to retrieve the skeins of silk now widely scattered and hopelessly tangled.

  "I know, " the princess dropped back into her chair in a most unprincesslikc manner, "I shall garden. "

  "Tayer, what are you doing?"

  Tayer glared up at her brothers and jabbed her ivory handled trowel into the damp earth. "Even you two should be able to figure that out. I'm planting roses. "

  Davan pursed his lips. "They'll never grow there; not enough light. Why don't you leave gardening to the gardeners and do something you're capable of?"

  She threw the trowel at him. Then, just to be sure he knew she was truly annoyed, followed it with the tray of seedlings.

  Eyrik laughed.

  She stood and dumped the contents of her watering pot over his head.

  Only Hanna noticed how often Tayer went to the one window in the palace where the dark line of the forest could be seen in the distance. No one heard her call out his name in her sleep. Hanna bore the brunt of Tayer's dissatisfaction. She was expected, not only by Tayer but by everyone else in the palace, to keep her cousin entertained and cheerful. She not only suffered from Tayer's moods but from the accusations that she could have done something to prevent them.

  "I love Tayer, " she sighed to Mikhail one evening, "but there have been times lately when I haven't liked her very much. "

  "How can you say that?" Mikhail protested. "You've always been like sisters.

  You should be glad you can help her. "

  "There are times, " Hanna said sharply as she hurried down the hall in answer to an imperious summons from the invalid, "when I don't like you very much either. "

  Mikhail stood and stared in astonishment as Hanna slammed the door to Tayer's room behind her. "What did I say?"

  When the month finally ended, a great picnic was arranged in celebration of Tayer's official return to health. The king allowed Tayer to convince him that such a picnic could only be held in the lee of the Lady's Wood. Officially, because the shade beneath the trees would be welcome in the heat of the afternoon. Actually, because, unlike the healer, the king was not immune to his daughter looking up through her eyelashes and quivering her lower lip. He knew his weakness, however, and he was grateful she wanted such an insignificant thing.

  If any of the court considered a two-hour ride for a picnic a little extreme, they kept silent. As the king had allowed himself to be convinced, so did the court. And if truth be told, after the last four weeks, the court was as glad Tayer was mobile as Tayer was herself.

  A large and merry company set out from the palace in the early morning. In the midst of the crowd, the laughter, and the sunshine it was easy to miss seeing that Tayer's gaiety had a brittle edge and that Mikhail smiled grimly if at all. Hanna noticed, but, as usual, no one noticed Hanna.

  Mikhail didn't know who, or what, Tayer had seen in the forest that day but he knew that whether spirit, demon, or mortal man, it had bewitched her. He had no doubt she would try to lose herself in the woods that afternoon and attempt to find the creature. Silently he vowed, and swore on his sword, that he would not take his eyes off her until she was safely back in the palace and far away from the naked man with silver hair and green fire in his eyes.

  Keeping an eye on Tayer turned out to be difficult; she flitted from person to person like a nervous butterfly. Mikhail's efforts were further hampered by the duties expected of him as a P
rince of the Realm. It wasn't easy being charming, witty, and vigilant all at once.

  When the sun was at its zenith and its warmth- combined with a large and excellent lunch, sent on its way with several gallons of good wine-was putting many of the party to sleep, he noticed Tayer disappearing amongst the trees.

  With a curse, he leaped to his feet and, paying no attention to the drowsy protests rising from those about him, ran after her.

  The forest seemed unnaturally still. Not a leaf rustled, not a bird sang, and although Mikhail was barely thirty feet from the meadow-and could, in fact, still see brightly colored robes and gay pennants-not a sound from that direction could he hear. Motes of dust danced in rays of sunlight, but they danced alone. There was no trace of Tayer.

  Loosening his sword in its sheath, Mikhail bent to study the ground. Very faintly, for the moss and leaves were already shifting to fill the track, he saw the print of his cousin's foot. And then another. The trail shifted, and twitched, almost as if it had a mind of its

  own, but Mikhail was one of the best trackers in Ardhan and this was no ordinary hunt. Soon he was running, his eyes never leaving the ground.

  He didn't see the root that tripped him. He would've sworn there was no root there. It came as a great surprise to find himself suddenly stretched full length upon the forest floor, the wind knocked out of him and his chin digging a trench in the sod. He lay there for a moment catching his breath, and then for another moment strangely unwilling to rise. The silence and sunlight washed over him in green-gold waves.

  The forest had welcomed Tayer. The moment she stepped beneath the trees the force which had pulled her this way and that, keeping her on the knife's edge between fear and longing, disappeared. Only the longing remained and a gentle tugging which directed her feet.

  As she walked deeper into the Lady's Wood, on paths she had no doubt were created just for her, a breeze came out of the stillness, caressed her bare arms and ran unseen fingers through her hair. When the path disappeared, she unquestioningly followed the breeze. It drew her through a ring of silver birch and then left on errands of its own.

  Tayer had never seen a more beautiful place. The sunlight poured down into the clearing like liquid gold. It had a tangible presence in the air and spilled out of the buttercups scattered in the thick grass. As Tayer stepped into the center of the circle, she felt the light fill her, like rich wine in a crystal goblet. The birches that surrounded her, all but one majestically old, glowed with their own inner light.

  "You have come. "

  From the one tree still straight and smooth he stepped, and for Tayer the light in the clearing dimmed in the glory of the light that flowed from him.

  He was just as Tayer remembered.

  She stepped forward to meet him, hands outstretched and trembling.

  "You were not a dream, " she said softly, thankfully. "You were not a dream. "

  And Varkell, who was a part of the Grove, with silver hair and eyes that held an unworldly green light, looked very human as he drew her into his arms.

  "Nor were you. "

  She'd left Varkell's side only because he'd told her she must, but every part of Tayer's body still sang with his presence. Even outside the Grove, there was a lushness in the air; a glory in the ordinary things; in trees and shrubs and moss.

  New words, she decided, will have to be created to describe how I feel.

  "Princess. "

  Any other day, the ugly little man perched on the fallen tree would have sent her screaming for her guards but today, today he couldn't possibly be a threat. She paused and fearlessly met the glow of his eyes. Her nose wrinkled as the fires damped down to an unusual shade of red-brown.

  "Do I know you?" she asked, struggling to hold the teasing edge of a memory.

  He spread rough hands and scowled. "Is it likely?"

  "No, " Tayer admitted. He was obviously not a member of the court and she knew few others, but still there lingered the thought that she had met him before.

  "If you go past that big pine, Princess, you'll find your cousin. Perhaps you should gather him up as you go. "

  "Thank you. " She smiled and followed his pointing finger, barely five steps beyond him before the lingering radiance she moved in drove the meeting from her mind.

  "Not yet, " Doan snorted, watching the slender figure disappear, "but soon. "

  Struggling through the green and gold wrapped about him, Mikhail first became aware of bird song-second of a woman's laughter more beautiful than the song. He opened his eyes to see Tayer standing over him.

  "You've picked a strange place for a nap, Cousin, " she said, extending a hand to help him up. "Did the ladies of the court prove too much for you?"

  "I didn't choose the place, " Mikhail replied, rubbing his eyes and glaring about him suspiciously. The forest, so still before, had come alive with sound. The sunlight no longer fell heavy and somber but slanted through the trees at a rakish angle.

  "The time. . . "

  "It's late afternoon. Come, " she tucked her hand in his, "we'd best get back if we don't want to be left behind. Listen, they're blowing the horns for us. "

  Mikhail listened and in the distance he heard the king's horn.

  "I don't understand, " he began, looking down at Tayer as they started to walk, and then he stopped and grabbed her shoulders. "Your clothes! They were red and brown this morning!"

  Both tunic and pants were now a pale green with golden trim.

  Tayer smoothed the cloth over her hips and smiled. "He made this for me, out of new leaves and sunshine. "

  She had never looked so beautiful, nor, Mikhail realized, so complete. Her eyes shone and there was a gentleness about her that had not been there before. She looked as if a great artist had taken the unfinished canvas of her and made it into a masterpiece.

  A little overwhelmed, and not sure he liked the change, Mikhail allowed her to lead him from the forest. He didn't mention the clothes again and neither did she. No one else noticed, although their absence provided food for the palace gossip mill and evoked more than a few thoughtful glances from the king.

  Over the next few weeks Tayer sang around the palace. Nothing could dampen her good spirits. Rumor had it that she was in love. Rurnor didn't know the half of it.

  One afternoon, when Mikhail was on duty, for even in peace the Elite still trained and its commander was expected to attend, the ladies of the court went to the forest for wildflowers. They returned that evening so heavily laden, those who had remained behind laughingly accused them of having stripped the Lady's Wood of blossoms.

  Tayer brought back only a single buttercup that glowed with an inner light. A light that endured until Mikhail ground the delicate flower under his heel.

  Hanna was at first pleased with the change in her cousin-Tayer had never been less demanding nor more affectionate-but as the weeks passed her pleasure dimmed. Tayer made it clear she no longer needed anyone but the creature of light she carried in her heart. With no real position in the palace beyond that of Tayer's companion, Hanna found herself completely unneeded and even longed for the days when Tayer had blithely ordered her life. More than ever, she felt mousy and insignificant beside her cousin. Whether this was due to the new depth and gentleness in Tayer's manner or the sudden mature light of her beauty, Hanna was not sure, but she found she didn't like it.