Saerla’s tension, aye. Her concentration, all intermingled uncannily with her determination. Fragile, did Saerla often seem, despite the armor and weapons she so frequently donned. But now Rhian felt her strength, like the granite that lay beneath the green turf of this place they loved.
Rhian shot a glance across Saerla’s back and met Moira’s gaze. Moira looked as incredulous as Rhian felt, her lips pressed together in a tight line, her gaze wide with wonder.
They had both witnessed Saerla enfolded by the Sight before. Rhian did not think she’d ever seen her seek a Vision this way.
Saerla’s fingers, clutching hers, suddenly tightened. “Sisters, lend me your strength. Gi’ me your power.”
Power? Rhian did not think she possessed any. Not at least anything akin to what she could feel now within Saerla. Rhian had kindled many a fire in her life, and nurtured them. They started with a spark, reached out for fuel and air, grew and fed and gathered heat.
So did the magic inside Saerla. Rhian, catching but the edges of it, ceased to breathe with wonder. She closed her mind to the beauty of the glen and gave herself over to the sensation.
Suddenly they were one, the three sisters MacBeith. Aye, so, they’d always been linked. Close. Now it was as if they shared one life, drew one breath. The bonds that united them stretched deep into the earth beneath their feet, to the glen below, to the ring of stones behind them and the grave beside which they stood. Da’s grave. He was here with them.
Rhian could feel him just as she could feel the magic inside Saerla. Strong, but like the mist above the loch on a soft day, it swirled.
Take what ye need o’ me, sister,Rhian thought at Saerla, and felt the pull as her sister did just that. The magic inside Saerla re-formed and made a picture.
Rhian could see only the edges of it, a flickering of light. Movement and dark and brightness. Not enough to tell—
But Saerla engaged. The power reared up inside her so she rose onto her toes. Fully taken by the Vision, sheSaw.
Rhian dared not breathe, for fear of spoiling it. She could feel Moira from all the way on Saerla’s other side, doing the same. They stood so, eyes closed, anchored to the rock and the magic in the stones, and to each other, until Saerla made a choking sound and went down.
She fell so suddenly, so abruptly, that Rhian felt it like a blow. Saerla crumpled, and her fingers pulled from Rhian and Moira’s, breaking their connection. Rhian exclaimed and went down on her knees beside her sister.
“Saerla?”
Saerla lay half on her back with her eyes closed and absolutely no color in her face. She did not appear to be breathing.
“Saerla!” Moira cried, her voice sounding like that of a bird, echoing Rhian’s own. “Rhian, by God! Do something.”
Rhian laid her hands on her sister’s breast. A healing gesture it was, one she had used instinctively many times with many patients. She had touched Leith just so.
Now she felt the healing flow from her own fingers into her sister, and for the first time recognized it for what it was.
Love.
Da! Da, help us. Help me save her.
Saerla did not stir beneath Rhian’s hands. Rhian leaned closer, seeking, seeking…
A hint of a breath, the thud of a heartbeat.
“Saerla,” Moira sobbed.
She could not be gone, this beautiful sister of theirs. Not like this. They had already lost so much.
Rhian closed her own eyes, massaged her sister’s chest with imploring fingers, and called,Come.
She might have been calling her father still, or Saerla herself. Something else came. She felt it surge up from the green turf beneath her knees and from the stones. From Moira.
Strength. Healing.
Saerla twitched beneath her hands. Low but strong, her heart began to beat. Breath surged into her lungs.
Rhian opened her eyes and looked at her sister. The wind still buffeted the three of them here on the ground. It stirred Saerla’s bright hair. It seemed to flutter her eyelashes when she opened her eyes.
“Aye,” Rhian crooned. “Aye, wee love, ye are back wi’ us.”
