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The moon was waning; the reams of pale light that heralded sunrise unfolding across the skies. He walked along the cliff face, to where the shrubs ran wild in the summer. Stooping at the familiar spot, he pulled back the dense ferns that covered his visior pool. Sitting cross-legged in front of it, he focused on the waters.
When his mind touched the surface of the pool, it shivered. Pictures tumbled in fast. He saw Veldor rousing his men, leaving the inn. The picture shivered again and changed. He saw Egremont leaving the settle in the midst of night, and then some sort of confrontation between Egremont and Veldor. Finally he saw Veldor riding toward The Strangeling.
The light faded. He brooded on what the images meant. The pool lit through again. Egremont's face appeared. He raised his hand in a sign of peace and smiled, his message traversing the space between them.
Greetings, Bron. You do well in your task, as we knew you would. You are the one, as I always believed. When you reach The Strangeling, seek the spire, for that is the place, but remember—the spire takes the form of death. Farewell. We are with you.
Bron nodded, lifting his hand to capture the blessing Egremont sent him, and then the image was gone.
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CHAPTER SEVEN
Maerose woke to sunlight streaming in from the open shutters. It had the quality of late autumnal sun, bright but wary. In the distance she could hear wood being chopped. She eased up on the bed and noticed a dish of milk by the bedside. She smiled and picked it up. It was warm and dusted with nutmeg. Drinking hurriedly, she set the dish down and tried to put some order into her messy tresses, before pulling on her abandoned clothing and boots. The petticoats and the borrowed shirt she wore were hardly decent, but it didn't matter, not here with Bron. She wandered to the doorway, setting her dish down on the table as she went.
She'd been outside the evening before to visit the privy, but this was the first time she'd seen the place in full sunlight. The day had a nip in the air but was struggling to be bright, the sunlight picking up the array of colors on the autumn leaves in the distant forest. The rocky crags surrounding them seemed to reach up around them like a crown, and between the cave and the distant crags, a haze of light shimmered. His veil. Could she have passed through it if she had tried to escape? Would he have let her? It didn't matter now, for in her heart she knew her destiny was indeed with him. Whatever tasks and challenges that brought, she would have to face them.
Bron was chopping wood at a block, close to a wooden hut where goats and chickens ran outside. He was stripped to the waist, his hair tied loosely at his nape with a piece of twine. His broad back and shoulders flexed, the muscles stretching, working hard as he split branches into manageable logs with his axe.
She stepped through the doorway and onto the narrow wooden porch. Glancing around, she took in the wooden frontage he'd built on the cave, the scattered pine trees between the crags. Further along the cliff face, outcrops of fern marked the spot where rock turned to ground. The place where he worked was covered with dark, mossy grass, and he had made use of the sheltered spot to build cover for the animals. She pulled the baggy shirt close around her, smiling as he turned toward her, setting down his axe when he became aware of her presence.
He strode over and lifted her into his arms.
She laughed as her feet left the ground, clinging to him with her head against his, closing her eyes and savoring the moment. If only it could be like this forever.
Make it last. She heard his voice in her mind.
"Here in the sunshine,” he said aloud, “the moment.” He drew back to look at her, nudging her with h
is chin so that she faced him. “The moment will last forever in our hearts; it will give us strength."
"You can tell what I am thinking?"
"Only sometimes, only when it is about our connection.” He turned serious. “It's so much more powerful than I expected.” He lowered her to the ground, but did not let her go. “Much stronger."
"Is it strong enough?” She hardly dared to ask, but the question had weighed heavily on her mind since the day before, when she had been forced to consider everything from the power of their physical love to the evil force of darkness that would be unleashed on Samhain.
"I think it will, if we welcome it.” He bent to kiss her mouth. When his tongue touched against hers seductively, encouraging her to open herself to him, her skin fluttered, her intimate flesh clenching in response, her body instantly ready for union with his.
"When must we leave here?” she asked, as he eased back.
"At dawn tomorrow. The journey is long.” He picked up his shirt from where it hung on the makeshift porch, and pulled it on. She watched regretfully as his chest was covered, her hand immediately going to touch him again afterward, to keep the contact constant. He rested his arm around her and drew her away from the cliff face, leading her across the mossy grass.
She stared at the mystical curtain of light as they neared it. “What is it?"
"Sunlight. The reflection creates an illusion. It is a gift of the sun god.” He gestured to the sky where the sun reigned supreme, despite the autumnal bite in the air. “The elder way is to recognize the power in all things, to respect it. Through study, meditation and growth of the soul we learn to channel the power in all things."
"So, the sun god has given you this light to use here?"
"In a sense, yes. It is more like a negotiation, based on faith."
She'd heard whispered conversations about the magic of the elders and the rituals they underwent in order to create their spells. And yet the way he explained it, it sounded much more simple and pure than she might have imagined.
"Nature's power is all around us,” he continued, “it is there for us to channel, if we choose. The gods above us who look after all the lands are represented by the sun and moon, for they guide and lead us to all we need."
She listened to him speaking, carefully absorbing what he was saying. It was not so far from what they believed in the village, but it was a more direct belief, a certainty that she had not felt when they offered prayers for a good harvest at home.
"The god of the sun is fiercer and more powerful, the moon goddess is more gentle but subtle in her female power. The sun god needs to rest to restore his strength, but the goddess of the moon is always by his side, watching over him and watching over us, and she is at her strongest when he takes his rest, ready for his next rising."
