Belladonna (38 page)

"Like the Den butting up against the part of Elandar where the waterhorses dwell?" Michael asked.

"Yes, like that. The waterhorses are demons and live in a dark landscape. The Den is a dark landscape inhabited by humans and demons. Both are mine, and they resonate with each other."

He brushed a finger over her fists, pausing at the line made where they were pressed together. "It's a wonder, isn't it, that two places physically so far apart can be reached just by stepping over a line."

She separated her fists, leaving a fist-sized gap between them. "Boundaries are formed between the pieces of the world that belong to different Landscapers and also between places that belong to the same Landscaper but don't resonate with each other in a way that forms a border. Those require bridges in order for people to cross over from one to the other. Even then, a stationary bridge can be created only between two landscapes that
want
to be connected. The hearts in both of those places have to want something that forms a link. Do you understand, Michael?"

"I think so." He frowned at her fists, then tapped one. "Lighthaven." Tapped the other. "The rest of the White Isle. Two ...

landscapes ... now. Two Landscapers."

"Yes," she said softly.

"So ..." He tapped a finger on one fist, then formed an imaginary arch to the other fist. "Lee makes one of his bridges and connects —"

"No." This was going to hurt him. She knew him well enough now, could feel the depth of his heart and know this would hurt him. "Heart wishes are powerful magic, Magician. A true heart wish can change your life. It can change the world. In those moments when Ephemera was manifesting the heart wishes that were reshaping this part of itself, two women said in anger, 'I don't want you.' And they meant it, Michael. They meant it." She lowered her fists, watched him physically brace for the verbal blow.

"These two landscapes will reject each other because the hearts that Ephemera used to define these landscapes had rejected each other. So these landscapes can't meet. At least, not right now. Maybe never. Lee could build a thousand bridges to connect Lighthaven to the White Isle, and every one of them would fail."

"But ..." He sank to his knees. "Does Caitlin know?" She crouched in front of him.

"No. And there's no reason to tell her. Not yet."

"She's not a child," Michael said, the snap of temper in his voice. "Don't you think she should know what she's done?"

"Not yet." She touched his cheek. He immediately reached up to press her palm against his face, holding on to the contact.

"She's been told for so long where she doesn't belong. Let's find the place where she does belong. I said it yesterday, and I'll say it again. No one who stood by that gate was innocent, and no one is more to blame than the others for what has happened to the White Isle."

"I started this," he said, his voice rough with the clash of emotions. "I started this by writing a letter sixteen years ago."

Who would have guessed the man would even think
of wallowing in blame, let alone actually do it? "Opportunities and choices, Magician. You wrote a letter; Brighid chose to answer it. And she chose to have the three of you live in Raven's Hill. She could have brought you back here to the White Isle and found a family willing to foster the two of you if it wasn't possible for you to live with her at Lighthaven."

He let out a sharp, bitter laugh. "The demon-spawn children? Our new 'family' would have thrown us in the sea as soon as Brighid was out of sight."

That he believed the words was a weight on her heart. But she gave him a light kiss and stood up. "As a child, you believed that," she said briskly. "As a man, it's time to adjust some of those beliefs. Let's go."

She meant to ride on to the buildings enclosed within their stone wall. Like the Landscapes' walled gardens. Something to think about since no other Place of Light had shut itself away quite like this. But the lake pulled at her, and she reined in a man-length from the edge and studied the black water.

Brighid had been Lighthaven's anchor at one time. While the Guardian's heart had maintained the simple way of life that suited a Place of Light, Glorianna suspected the ebb and flow of feelings within the community of Sisters had been more natural.

For one thing, there must have been children in order for the bloodlines to continue. Therefore, there must have been lovers, however temporary.

Now Merrill was the anchor. And Merrill, so fearful of the feelings that lived within the human heart, had managed to deny the Dark currents so strongly that Ephemera had created a dark landscape to provide an outlet and a balance.

A shimmer of thought, a butterfly of feeling fluttered through her. Something there. Something to remember.

Then the moment was gone, and it was time to face the next part of the journey — and all the troubled hearts now stirring up the currents in this landscape.

Merrill brought in a tray and set it on the table before studying the woman who stood at the window, staring out at the gardens they had both helped plant so many years ago.

"Does it
look the way you remember it?" Merrill asked.

"Yes," Brighid answered quietly, sadly. "It hasn't changed."

"I kept it as it was. Shaela wanted to change some things, but I was the leader, and I kept it the same."
For you.

"Why didn't you let it change?" Brighid asked, turning away from the window, the dried tracks of tears still visible on her face.

"The songs that mark the waxing and waning of the day should remain the same because they are tradition. They ground the heart and give us the comfort of knowing that these same words have flowed through the air and seeped into the land going back to ancestors who are nothing more than myth. But living things should change, must change. Shaela loves you in ways I never did, never could. You should have let her change the gardens, Merrill. The two of you should have planted something new."

"But now that you're back ..." Something in Brighid's face strangled the rest of the words.

"I'm not staying," Brighid said. "Something is missing. Has always been missing. I was destined for Lighthaven, and I did my duty and came here. As much as I loved this place, it was like a shoe that should have fit but always pinched a little. I don't know why." She paused, then sighed. "You blamed Michael for writing the letter asking me to come to Raven's Hill."

"I didn't blame you for leaving. You were obliged to stay with the children and —"

"I chose to stay."

The steel in Brighid's voice reminded Merrill of why Brighid had been chosen as their leader at so young an age.

Brighid shook her head. "Leaving here wasn't a completely selfless act. Yes, the children needed me, but I also needed to go, and that letter gave me a reason to leave."

"What was out there that you couldn't find here!" Merrill cried.

"I don't know!" Brighid's voice rang with frustration. "Life. Love. Maybe something as simple as lust. I don't know. I never found it." She pressed the heels of her hands against her temples. "I never found it. Just like Maureen never found whatever her heart needed. She loved Devyn. I know she did. But it wasn't enough. And Caitlin ..."

"Doesn't belong here," Merrill snapped, feeling the sting of rejection all over again. They were back to where they were sixteen years ago. Despite what Brighid said about things changing, nothing had changed. Nothing. "Even the other sorceress said so.

"Guide of the Heart," Brighid murmured. "I never thought I would stand face-to-face with a true Guide of the Heart."

Everything should have been wonderful, but it was all breaking apart.

Merrill looked down at the cuff bracelet she had worn for so many years, thinking it had meant...

She pulled it off and held it out. "You gave me this. When you left. A family heirloom, isn't that what you said?"

"That's what it is," Brighid replied.

"You gave it to me as a reminder of what we had meant to each other, what we might have meant if you hadn't..." She trailed off.

"I gave it to you as a farewell gift," Brighid said softly. "I never intended to come back to the White Isle."

Merrill dropped the bracelet and turned, knocking into the table as she rushed to the door. Before the sound of the slamming door faded away, she heard the crash of cups and saucers hitting the floor.

Michael took a seat between Lee and Kenneday, more relieved than he wanted to admit that he was no longer the only man at Lighthaven.

"Never saw anything like it, in all my years at sea," Kenneday said. "One minute the deck is clear; the next, this one is standing behind me. And then, when we're standing on the shore of a lake that hadn't been there a couple of days ago, he's calmly transferring all the gear we had packed in the wagon onto this bit of an island only he can see."

"That's not quite true," Lee said, helping himself to some bread and cheese. "There are times when everyone can see the island."

Kenneday just snorted.

Michael helped himself to some of the food on the table and said nothing. Clearly everyone had had an exciting time over the past couple of days.

"It was the strangest thing," Brighid said, responding to Caitlin's question about the different table. "The leg just gave way. It must have been loose — may have been loose for years — and getting bumped with the weight of a tray on top of it was enough to break that leg."

Michael noticed the look exchanged by Glorianna and Lee, then did a quick survey of the room. Where was Merrill? Wouldn't Lighthaven's leader want to be here for this meeting? Besides his aunt Brighid, the only Sister in the room was Shaela.

"So," Lee said, accepting a cup of tea with a polite smile, "the lake does, in fact, circle Lighthaven. Dark, cold water. Weedy, boggy. I spotted animal tracks going to and from the water, so I think we can assume the water is drinkable. Might be fish in there that are edible. And we confirmed that you can see Lighthaven from the White Isle shore."

"Like a dream it is," Kenneday said. "Like something that fades away as soon as you reach fork.

That got Glorianna's attention. "It's doing the same thing that the White Isle did?"

"We didn't get in a boat to find out, but my guess is it will do the same thing in that you can see it from a distance, but it will fade away completely before you get close to it," Lee said. "I'm wondering if that's the nature of this Place of Light. Maybe it was never meant to be found. Maybe it was meant to be like a dream — you take comfort in knowing it exists, but its allure is even more potent because so few people can reach it."

"Being hard to reach isn't the same as being impossible to reach," Glorianna said. "And some people will need to find it."

"Why?" Shaela asked. "We're supposed to remain apart from the turmoil of the world."

"How many of the Sisters were born here?" Glorianna asked.

Not many, if any,
Michael thought, watching Shaela take in the significance of the question.

"A resonating bridge would work," Lee said. "Stationary bridge won't hold between the two landscapes — I did try to create one — but a resonating bridge isn't keyed for specific landscapes. Thing is, since people around here don't know about landscapes and bridges, we'd want something no one would mistake for something else."

"Too bad you can't put a pair of Sentinel Stones in the middle of the lake," Kenneday said, cutting another hunk of cheese off the wheel. "Be romantic like, taking a boat out with the dawn breaking and the mist on the water, and those great black stones rising up from the middle of the lake, and you watching that shore that looks as wispy as a wish and not knowing if it will fade away completely or become real." He glanced around at the people now staring at him and cleared his throat. "Just a passing thought."

"Tell us about these Sentinel Stones," Glorianna said.

When Kenneday just squirmed under her intent stare, Michael jumped in. "You've seen them. You've got a pair of them as the gate — bridge — between the Merry Makers' bog and the Den. Walked between them in order to cross over."

Now Glorianna
and
Lee were staring at
him.

"Those are common in this land — in Elandar?" Lee asked.

"Common enough," Michael replied warily. "Every third or fourth village has a pair of them in the field beyond the village proper."

"Tell them what the Stones do," Kenneday said giving Michael an elbow in the ribs.

"It depends," Michael said, not sure if he needed to be more worried about Glorianna or Lee jumping on him. "Sometimes you walk through the Stones and nothing happens. Sometimes you don't go anywhere... but things change." Oh, this was starting to sound familiar in an unfamiliar sort of way. "And sometimes a person walks between the Stones and disappears. Sometimes for a few days — and sometimes forever."

Glorianna sat back and blew out a deep breath. Lee scrubbed his hands over his face.

"They've got resonating bridges all over this landsc— country, and they don't know what the things do," Lee said.

"In point of fact," Michael said testily, "we do know what they do. We just never knew
why
things happened to people when they walked between the Stones."

Lee looked at Glorianna. "A pair of those Stones would take care of the problem of people recognizing the bridge." His eyes shifted to look at Michael and Kenneday. "And if the storytellers were to spread a new 'legend' about Lighthaven and why it disappeared, then we'll have an explanation for everyone."