"It would have been beautiful, Fallon," he whispered, his voice ragged. "A forever to love you. But sometimes the tale ends before we wish it to. Remember how you told me the story of Deirdre and Naosi?"
She nodded. "I-I thought it was beautiful... until now. Love hurts too much. I wish I'd never let myself..." She broke off with a choked sob. "No, I could never wish that. I just never knew the truth—why Deirdre couldn't go on without him."
He smiled at her, a smile filled with pain and love, aching at the thought of Fallon's loss, her grief, the knowledge that she would have to face it alone, in the bed they had shared. "You won't die as Deirdre did, of a broken heart. You're strong, Fallon. As strong as the cliffs by our castle. This place has made you that way. You'll hold your head high, lady. Sorrow won't break you. And you'll live a long life, a full one."
"What life? How can I do it without you?"
"I know you don't think so now, but in time Misthaven will heal you. That, and the knowledge that whatever happens in the future, we both found what we were searching for at your castle by the sea. You found a way to trust again, and discovered the love of your brother. You stepped through the gateway of your legends into the world of the living. And I—I had the privilege of loving you, if only for a little while. I had no life, no memory before you found me, Fallon, healed me. I consider it an honor to lay that life down to save everything you love."
"But I love you most of all."
"You taught me that no one who ever really loves this place ever leaves it entirely, no matter where they go—to the New World or to the life hereafter. They leave a piece of themselves behind." Ciaran stroked her cheek. "Don't you know I'll be with you every time you feel the kiss of the mist on your face?"
She clutched him tight, as if she were trying to meld them into one being, one soul. Didn't she know her love already had? When she pulled away, she looked stronger somehow, more beautiful than ever. He had never loved her more.
"I'll find some way to save you, Ciaran."
Dark dread spilled through Ciaran, terror for her. Was there anything that would stop this valiant woman from attempting to snatch him from death? Anything that would make her cautious? Protect her?
He groped for something that might give her pause. Suddenly an idea came to him, infinitely sweet and precious and—most astonishing of all—possible. The thought awed him, filled him with hope.
"You can't risk yourself, love. What if..." His hand slid ever so gently to her belly. Was it possible it felt fuller? Or was it only that he wished it were so? "There's a chance, just a chance, I've left a part of myself with you. A child made of our love."
A faint spark of joy, hope flickered in Fallon's eyes. "It's too soon to tell—" She stopped. Her lips trembled. "You're using it against me, to tie my hands. To stop me."
"I'd like to believe that you carry my child. It might be true, Fallon. Everything about our love has been so magical. From the very first."
"Magic." Her voice was sorrowful. She drew away from him, a broken laugh stealing from her lips. "I-I brought you something. I'm not certain why. I just wanted you to have it." She slipped one hand beneath her skirts, drew out a soft bundle.
He ran his fingertips over the stitches she'd set into the shirt with such love. "It's beautiful. I'll wear it—" he couldn't finish. Was it cowardice in him—the comfort he took in the fact that he could wear this gift when he strode out of this cell to meet his death? All he knew is that it would help give him the courage he needed to leave his lady behind.
"There is something else," she said, a flush darkening her cheeks. Within the billows of the shirt he found another object wrapped up in a lace-edged handkerchief. Hard, heavy, it lay in his palm.
Ciaran folded back the bit of linen, and what he saw there made his throat constrict. Cabochon jewels glinted red on ancient, mellow gold. "The cloak brooch of Ciaran of the Mist," he whispered. "No, Fallon. I can't take this from you. What if Redmayne gets his hands on it?"
He tried to force it back into her hands, but she thrust them behind her back and shook her head.
"At first, I'd hoped the enchantment would protect you somehow, that you'd—I don't know—vanish in a puff of mist before they could kill you. I've discovered there is another reason I brought it instead. This belonged to a hero, lost centuries ago. Now it belongs to the bravest man I know."
The door opened, and the young soldier cleared his throat. "You'll have to leave now, madam."
Ciaran caught her in his arms one last time, the edges of gold cutting into his hand. "You can't leave Ciaran's cloak brooch with me, Fallon. The legend—you're supposed to keep it, pass it down through the generations."
She gazed up at him, a lifetime of fairy tales in her eyes, the magic of myths and legends softening her lips. Yet he knew that at long last, Mary Fallon realized they were make-believe. His lady had stepped forever into the real world. The certainty filled him with stark regret.
"Then you'll have to find a way to live, won't you?" she said. "Bring it back to me."
She pressed a parting kiss on his lips, then turned and left the cell. Ciaran stood there, clutching the ancient talisman, foreboding gnawing his nerves. Both she and Hugh would fight with all their might to save him. Put themselves at risk. There was only one thing to do. The sooner this was over the better. He hid the brooch in the billowy folds of his shirt then went to the door.
"You!" He called out, hammering at the thick wooden panel. "Guard!"
The youth opened the door.
"Tell the captain I wish to see him. There is something of importance I need to ask him."
"Aye. I'll tell him." The guard shut and locked the door again, returning with Redmayne in an astonishingly short time.
The captain's eyes betrayed the slightest hint of curiosity, amusement, until his gaze flicked to the lace-edged handkerchief Ciaran still held in his hand. Something shifted, ever so slightly, in the captain's look, his voice a little softer. "There is something you needed to ask me about, MacDonough?"
