"Yes, there is. I die as Silver Hand. You live."
"Ciaran, no! I... oh, God, it's an impossible choice!" Fallon sobbed, tears streaming down her cheeks. He'd never loved her more.
"No, Fallon. It's a hard choice, a painful one. And you know, deep in your heart, that it's the only choice we can make." He held her, stroked her hair. "What would happen if your brother died? The land taken away from you, put in the hands of some greedy fool like Phineas Butler? Think of how his people suffer under his rule. He's bled the land white, turned his tenants into starved shadows, with nothing to shield them from the winter except rags."
"God in heaven, don't—" she begged for mercy. He could have none. He went on ruthlessly, tearing away any illusions.
"Hunger, hopelessness, even eviction. That's the fate that will befall every person on Misthaven land if their master hangs as a smuggler, a murderer. Is that what you want, Mary Fallon? To condemn them all to death? Siobhan and her babes? Tom Dunne and little Caitlin?"
"No! Of course not! But—"
"Their survival has depended on your family for hundreds of years. You've never failed them. Can you turn your back on them now?"
"This is hopeless!" Hugh ground out. "How the devil can I live with myself if you hang because of me—my rashness, my stupidity?"
"Your courage?" Ciaran said quietly. "You held this estate together when it was on the brink of ruin. You risked your neck to give the people under your protection decent lives. And you'll spend the rest of your years doing the same thing—sheltering them from monsters like Butler and Redmayne, giving them a chance to watch their children grow up, fed and warm and healthy. Every soul on Misthaven will bless you for it. So will I."
"God, what can I do? Desert the people who depend on me, or... or allow you to sacrifice yourself?"
"I choose this path of my own free will. It's my sacrifice. My honor to do this for a man I respect above all others."
Hugh attempted to speak, but it came out in a ragged groan. "But what about Fallon? I've done this to her. Hurt her again. Failed her."
"Not that," Ciaran denied fiercely. "Never that. You love her, and you love this land enough to do the only thing you can. Live."
Torment contorted Hugh's face, his eyes desperate. "I won't surrender in this. I'll find some way to save you. I swear it."
Panic bit deep. "Don't do anything foolish, or all this will have been in vain," Ciaran said fiercely. "We'll both die, Misthaven will be lost, and Fallon will be alone. I need to know that you'll be there to comfort her after..." He hesitated, not able to put it into words. A loss so great, a love too new, a pain too fresh. "Promise me."
Hugh swore under his breath then nodded. "I won't endanger Misthaven. That vow I give you. But I'll move heaven and earth to try to get you free."
Ciaran reached out, grasped Hugh's hand tight. "I'm proud that you were my brother even for a little while."
Hugh closed his other hand over Ciaran's, holding it in both his own. "When you and Fallon married and I found you in the chapel, I all but went mad thinking it was a disaster. I didn't realize that you were the only man in Ireland who could be worthy of her love. I only wish I'd had a chance to know you better." Hugh broke off with a strangled sound, his eyes over-bright.
"I know," Ciaran glanced from Hugh to Fallon, his heart full. "Hugh, leave us... a moment."
Ciaran could see exactly how much it cost him to turn away, this man of nobility and courage who had risked so much, given others so much. It was almost impossible for him to accept anything in return. But loyalty to the people under his protection would bind him, keep him safe. And his brotherly love for Fallon, freed after so many years, would help to heal her.
Hugh crossed to the door, knocked on it. The soldier beyond let him out. Ciaran watched him disappear, feeling a bond with this honorable man, love for him, regret. And he prayed that Hugh would find a way to make peace with the sacrifice that had to be made.
Ciaran turned back to the woman he loved, her tortured eyes cutting his heart. He forced a smile. "I fear I'll have to have a word with these legend weavers of yours, my love. Redmayne lost a soldier or two charging down into the labyrinth, but he came out unscathed. The enchantment promised that any enemy of Ireland—"
"Don't make a jest of this! And don't ask me to watch you die!" Fallon choked out. "I don't think I can do it—even for the people I love."
Ciaran peered down into Fallon's eyes, engraving every line and feature on his memory to carry with him like a talisman when the noose bit into his neck. "I came to you with nothing—not even the memory of my own name. You made me fall in love with you, Fallon, and with this land. The way the mist shimmers atopCaislean ag Dahmsa Ceo,the tales of courage and bravery spun by bards generations ago. And the people, with their dreamer's hearts and their work-battered hands, their haunting music and simple wisdom."
He feathered his thumb across the creamy velvet of her cheek. "From the beginning, I wasn't certain why I'd come here—what unseen force had led me to this castle. Why the fates brought me here. Now I know."
"You came to teach me how to love again," Fallon said. "To make me remember..."
"I'll always be grateful for our time together—an infinitely precious gift. But the fates didn't put me here only to love you. When Butler fled, and I knew the castle was safe, I felt so restless, as if something was left unfinished. Now I know why. Don't you see? This is why I'm here. To die in Hugh's place. To shield the people of Misthaven from ravenous wolves like Redmayne. The night you went to the castle, you tried to conjure up a hero, Fallon, to do battle for you. Let me be that hero now."
"But I didn't know I would love you," she cried. "That it would hurt so much. This isn't what I-I expected. Ciaran, I don't want a hero anymore—some fairy tale made of mist and magic. I want you. Your arms around me late at night, your laughter in my ear when I awaken in the morning. I want forever. A lifetime."
Could she possibly know how much he wanted the same things? To love her, to free her from grief, from sorrow, from the make-believe world where she'd sought refuge. To listen as she cradled his children before the peat fire and spun out the glorious tales of Cuchulain and Deirdre of the Sorrows. To create a life together, and never be alone.
There were no words of comfort he could offer, no way to salve the pain. He could only stroke her tear-damp face, will her to feel how much he loved her—a love as eternal as her castle in the mist, as honorable as the hero she'd dreamed in her heart, as beautiful as the land that had molded her into a woman of compassion and courage.
