“And I think this conversation would be best held in a well-stocked pub,” Michael said. “But we’re not likely to be finding one here, so…” He raked his fingers through his hair.
“We do have some brandy,” Shaela said. “For medicinal purposes.”
Lee brushed a foot from side to side to create a narrow path that was clear of the pebbles and fist-sized stones made from Glorianna’s anger. He worked his way up to the gate and past the gate. Once he was inside the walls that surrounded Lighthaven, he turned and looked at all of them. “Then I suggest we all have a large glass of medicine before we talk about this. We’re going to need it.”
Michael cradled the glass of brandy and stared at the dark liquid, waiting for someone else to ask the question, voice a concern, do something. But Lee and Glorianna, who were the only ones in the room who might have the answers, seemed content to drink brandy, stare at nothing, and brood.
“All right,” he said. “What happened out there?”
Glorianna and Lee looked at him. Then Lee said, “In response to some powerful heart wishes, the White Isle shattered into two landscapes, separating Lighthaven from the rest of the island. Right now, that’s all we know.” He turned to his sister. “Isn’t it?”
Glorianna nodded. “And we know Lighthaven is one of my landscapes, and I’m almost certain the rest of the White Isle is one landscape that is in Caitlin Marie’s keeping.”
He waited, but they didn’t say anything more. “What happened to the horse and driver when things…changed?”
“That mist-covered lake might not look so big from the other shore,” Lee replied. “Not likely to be a puddle-jump, but—”
“Did a man die when this happened?” Michael’s voice sharpened. “Is that what the two of you are trying not to say? That because people had an argument and some harsh words were said, the world changed and a man died because of it?”
Shocked gasps. One of the women—maybe Caitlin—whimpered.
“We don’t know,” Glorianna said, giving him the courtesy of looking him in the eyes. “I don’t think a chunk of the road suddenly disappeared out from under the carriage, dropping man and horse to the bottom of the lake. I think it’s more likely the landscapes altered, and Ephemera created a moat, of sorts, around Lighthaven.”
Suddenly Michael realized what she wasn’t quite saying: The lake was that unnatural dark patch in the sea, the place where Glorianna had fainted in his arms. Somehow, Ephemera had plopped Lighthaven in the middle of that dark patch, which Lee and Glorianna were now calling a lake. And since that made no sense to him, he focused on something he hoped wasn’t quite so slippery to grasp.
“So the driver might be standing in the same spot, wondering why the road is suddenly leading right into a lake?”
“He could be.” Glorianna took a healthy swallow of brandy. “Or he could have stared at it for a minute or two and then driven back to Atwater as fast as he could.”
“To tell them what?” Brighid asked.
Michael studied his aunt. She looked pale, and she had to be hurting still from the injuries caused in the fire. It would have eased his own nerves a bit if she’d gone off to rest. But he hadn’t known, and she had never said, that she had been more than a Lady of Light, that she had been their leader.
She belonged here. He could see it. Even in pain, even in distress over the things that had happened, there was an ease in the way she held herself, as if the land itself nourished something inside her—something that had starved during the years she had lived in Raven’s Hill.
He’d had no idea what she had given up in order to answer the plea of a young boy who had been desperate to avoid being put in the orphan’s home and just as desperate not to lose his little sister, the only family he had left.
Brighid caught him looking—and returned the look.
Power in her eyes. The kind of power that had been kept hidden all the years she had lived outside these walls. Maybe—he glanced at Merrill, making a quick judgment of the way she was watching Brighid—had been kept hidden all the years she had lived here as well.
“We won’t know that—or what’s on the other side of the boundary—until one of us is standing in the other landscape and looking at the lake from that side,” Glorianna said in response to Brighid’s question. “The problem is, we don’t know if the rest of the White Isle is the landscape on the other side of the lake. And Caitlin hasn’t had the training to know how to take the step between here and there to reach one of her landscapes or her garden, so—”
“She’s not going back to Raven’s Hill,” Michael said fiercely. “Especially not alone.”
“Her garden isn’t rooted in Raven’s Hill,” Glorianna said. “It never was. Our immediate problem is how to get across a lake of undetermined size with neither boat nor oars—and no idea of what now resides in that lake since it’s still a dark landscape.”
Michael shuddered. The weeds that floated just beneath the surface had looked similar to the seaweed that had marked that patch of dark water, but Lee had felt reasonably certain the water was fresh, not salt. Different…and yet the same.
So Michael took a long swallow of brandy and wished there wasn’t a reason to wonder…and worry…about what might be waiting for any fool who tried to cross that lake.
Lee dug in his jacket pocket. “I’ve got a solution to that particular problem. Kenneday gave me this.” He held out a compass and grinned at his sister.
Glorianna looked at the compass and started hooting with laughter while everyone else just looked puzzled.
“I asked him for something small that I could carry and use if I needed a way back to the ship. So he gave me this.”
Glorianna almost got herself under control—and then got the hiccups.
“One shot—hic—bridge?” she asked.
Lee nodded. “It should put me on the deck of the ship. If I leave now, I shouldn’t be too far behind the driver and whatever story he’ll be telling. Might even get there ahead of him. I’ll reassure Kenneday that we’re all in one piece, then have him help me get a wagon and maybe a rowboat. We couldn’t see the other shore because of the fog, but a person should be able to cross that distance.”
“Depends on the heart, doesn’t it?” Glorianna said cryptically. She set her glass aside and scrubbed her hands over her face. “All right. If you’re feeling up to it, it would be better to get ahead of the wildest stories. We’ll figure out what should be connected and how once we know what we’re looking at.”
“Done.” Lee stood up and headed out of the room.
“If I’m not here when you get back, don’t worry,” Glorianna said as he opened the door.
He shut the door with a control that was worse than a slam. “And where will you be, Glorianna Belladonna?” Lee asked, turning back to face her.
She narrowed her eyes at him. He just stared back. Michael admired the backbone it took for a man to do that.
Glorianna looked at Merrill. “Do you have riding horses here?”
“Y-yes,” Merrill stammered. “They’re not fancy, but we have some.”
She turned those eyes back on her brother. “The Magician and I are going to ride the perimeter of this landscape and find out what it has and what it lacks.”
He was so surprised by her plans for him that he inhaled the fumes of the last swallow of brandy and coughed until he thought his eyeballs would bounce right out of his head. Of course, then he got a double whack on the back, which helped neither cough nor eyeballs.
“If you’re done with killing me, then get me some water,” he wheezed. He heard someone scrambling. Not either of the two who had been whacking him, but someone with a kinder heart.
Then Caitlin was kneeling in front of him holding a glass of water.
“Drink it down now. There’s a lad,” she said.
I’m not seven, he thought, feeling surly enough to think it but still having enough sense not to say it.
He took the water and drank
it down—and got his breath back.
“It’s settled then,” Glorianna said.
“Now that you’ve settled things to your satisfaction, kindly satisfy the curiosity of the rest of us,” Brighid said.
Michael, hearing her voice edge toward the cold side of discipline, winced. Glorianna, however, just watched his aunt, as if looking for something no one else could see.
“I won’t know precisely until I ride the perimeter, which, I suspect, will take no more than a day,” Glorianna said. “I’m guessing Lighthaven is now an island within an island. The connection between this Place of Light and the rest of the island was already fragile.” She nodded at Merrill. “That, I think, was your doing. Your heart fears the world beyond these walls. You wanted Lighthaven to be unreachable, untouchable.”
“And you wonder why?” Merrill asked. She waved a hand toward Brighid and Shaela. “Look what the outside world does.”
“I didn’t say you were wrong, Merrill,” Glorianna replied. “I’m simply explaining.” She waited, then she closed her eyes, as if she needed to shut them all out in order to make a decision. When she opened them, she looked at Brighid. Only Brighid. “The White Isle has been split into two separate landscapes. Maybe more. Until a Bridge comes in and establishes bridges that can connect those landscapes to other places, they stand apart from the rest of the world and each other. In Ephemera’s attempt to balance the heart wishes that altered the White Isle, the Dark currents that had been cast out of Lighthaven have now formed a lake that keeps the Light from being touched by the outside world.”
“That isn’t right,” Brighid said quietly. “The Light should not be hidden away.”
“It should be protected!” Merrill protested.
“A beacon of hope must be seen, Merrill, or it cannot shine in the dark and warm the hearts that need it most.” She focused her attention on Glorianna. “What must we do to touch the world again?”
“Glorianna?” Lee asked softly.
She waved a hand in his direction. “Go. Travel lightly.”
She waited until Lee was gone before leaning back in her chair and looking up at the ceiling, as if she needed a moment to mentally step away from all of them.
Michael watched her. There were fine lines at the corners of her eyes. Had they been there before now, or had the strain of this journey cut those lines into her skin? Was he partly responsible for those lines? Was Caitlin, with her childish tantrums that created consequences not easily fixed—if they could be fixed at all?
“Is that how it is then?” he asked no one in particular. “People do foolish things, or say things in anger that they would regret in a clearheaded moment, and the world changes?”
“Opportunities and choices, Magician,” Glorianna said, sitting forward. “Every day, every person makes a hundred small choices. Most of them are not so clear-cut as choosing between Light and Dark. There is so much room in the gray spaces of the world. But when weighed at the end of the day, that heart leans a little more toward the Light or the Dark—and then resonates a little closer with the Light or the Dark. Make enough choices, one way or the other, and the day comes when you have grown beyond who you were and it’s time to take the next step in your life’s journey.”
“To cross over to another landscape, you mean?” Michael asked.
“The world doesn’t care if you call it crossing over to another landscape or if you believe a spirit will remove a key from your heart and tell you to choose the lock that will open the door to the next stage of your life. What matters is that where you end up will match the resonance of your heart, good or bad, Light or Dark.” She rested her forearms on her knees and clasped her hands loosely in front of her. Then she looked at each of them in turn. “Life journeys. On the way, you are influenced by others, helped by others, harmed by others. Some things happen because you have earned them. And some things happen because cruelty flickers through the Dark currents and rises up without warning, causing harm, causing pain, causing tragedies that can devastate one person or an entire village. What I feel in this room is a conflict of hopes and dreams and desires. No one who stood at that gate is innocent of shattering the White Isle. And no one is more to blame than the others. So many choices were made to bring you to this moment. Now that you know what your choices can do, make the next ones with care.”
She pushed up and went to the door.
“What about you, Glorianna Belladonna?” Brighid asked. “Are you accepting responsibility for the choices you made?”
Oh, the look in Glorianna’s eyes when she said, “I always accept responsibility for my choices.” Then she slipped out of the room and quietly closed the door.
Chapter Twenty-two
Michael spread the blanket at the top of a gentle slope that led down to the lake. Maybe he should have offered to set things up where there was a bit of shade, despite the coolness of the day, but right now he needed to feel the sun’s warmth seeping into him, and he didn’t think Glorianna, despite being so fair-skinned, wanted to hide her face from the sun today either.
“You’re more practical than my brother,” Glorianna said as she walked up to him, her saddlebags over one shoulder.
“How so?” He smoothed the last corner, feeling more awkward than the first time he’d had a private picnic with a girl. Woman, really. She had been older than him and knew a few things he was more than willing to learn. Still, that first time with a new girl, when a boy wasn’t sure if he’d get a hand cracked across his face or if the girl would smile and say “more,” always made the heart beat a little harder.
“Lee would have put the blanket on the slope and then gotten stubborn about moving it until he’d spilled something on himself. You chose flat ground.”
“I prefer eating food to wearing it.” The image flashed into his mind, of him dipping his fingers into whipped cream and mounding it, ever so gently, over her bare breasts. No need to add a berry on top because the berry—
“Are you all right?” Glorianna asked. “You look flushed.”
“I’m fine.” He shifted on the blanket and sat in a way he hoped would hide just how fine he was feeling.
She waited for a beat, then set the saddlebags down on the blanket. “Why don’t you set out what’s there while I get the rest.”
He winced at the tone but didn’t offer to get up and help. Despite feeling troubled by what he had seen during their ride that morning, this was the first time they had been alone since he’d showed up on her island, and he was hoping for a little romance before they got back to Lighthaven’s community. He didn’t want to scare her off by having her notice just how ready he was for a little romance.
“This is a clever idea,” he said with hearty enthusiasm as he lifted the container of cold chicken out of one saddlebag, followed by the water skin that had been nestled beneath it. Judging by the way her eyebrows rose, maybe he’d sounded a bit too hearty. “Well, it is,” he muttered.
“No one has ever thought to fill up a water skin and put it in the ice house overnight, and then use it to keep food fresh when you’re traveling?”
“If someone has, I haven’t heard of it.”
They divided the food, then settled down to eat.
As long as he kept his eyes away from the lake, he could enjoy having a picnic with the woman who heated his blood and warmed his heart, and could imagine them having more times like this, a lifetime of days like this. But the lake always intruded.
“It’s not a natural fog, is it?” he asked, turning his head to look at the lake—and the fog that still shrouded its surface.
“Since that is the nature of this lake, you could call it natural,” Glorianna replied.
He shook his head. “If it was just fog, it would have burned off by now.”
Setting aside the bones of the chicken leg she’d devoured, she delicately licked her fingers clean. Watching her just about broke his restraint.
“Fog obscures,” Glorianna said. “It hides things—dangerou
s pieces of ground…or dangerous facets of a person’s nature. It’s also a warning about the nature of a landscape, that the Dark currents are strong there.”
“Lady of Light, have mercy,” Michael murmured, dropping his head to his raised knees.
“Michael?”
Her hand on his shoulder, a comforting stroke. He turned his head to look at her. “The place I wanted you to see is called Foggy Downs. They’re good people, Glorianna. I was hoping you would know how to help them.”
“Wanted me to see?”
She was closing herself off from him, backing away emotionally. He could see it in her face. When she stretched out on her back and stared at the sky, he knew he’d slipped badly, but he wasn’t sure what he’d done to upset her.
Then he thought about what he’d said and just sighed. No point chiding himself for words being taken in a way he hadn’t meant. At least he knew how to fix this.
He packed up the remains of their meal and set it aside. Then he stretched out beside her, propped on one elbow so he could see her face.
“I still want you to see it,” he said quietly. “I want that for myself and for those people. But I’m beginning to understand how much weight you already carried on your shoulders, and now you have more. I don’t want to add to the burden more than I’ve already done.”
She’d been staring straight up, ignoring his closeness even though his face must have blocked half her view of the sky. Now she frowned, and those green eyes shifted to look straight into his.
“Ever since I met you, you’ve been helping my family in one way or another—and putting aside your own tasks to do it. You haven’t been on your island looking after your own because you’ve been looking after me and mine.”
She gave him an odd look. “What makes you think one is different from the other?”
Am I yours? Something in him shimmered with joy, and for a moment he could have sworn the air tasted sweeter and the sun shone brighter. Suddenly, this delicate connection between them was more important than anything else in the world. Her feelings were more important than anything else.