“Wait! Don’t go!” he cried. “Our business is not yet concluded!”
“Oh, aye, it is, dark one,” she replied. “Your phallus will be a grand tribute to your time among us. You are a living legend, dark one. All Arcus will hear your tale. Bards will sing your song. None will ever forget the Lord of the Dark. I shall see to that.”
“I care for none of it. I only want to live in peace with Rhiannon.”
“Then call back your last feather wisely.”
“Why can’t you give it now and send us where we need to go, Lavilia?”
“Because, for one thing, you do not yet know where that is, and for another, though I
do
know, were I to do as you ask, you would be leaving a loyal friend at the mercy of a reckoning that you have created. Eternal happiness cannot be bought with betrayal. You must live out the destiny you have created for yourself and others before you can be free. Remember…all of this could have been avoided but for your impetuous nature. There is no room for such as that here now.”
She spoke of Marius, of course, and she was right. He could not leave his friend, the Ancient Ones, and all the helpless creatures of the Forest Isle at the mercy of Ravelle.
“I must get back,” he knew, bolting toward the strand.
“Wait!”
she shrilled. “What have I just told you of impetuousness? Have you not heard one word I’ve said? Take one more step before I’ve finished with you, and I will call back the contract and let you flounder on your own—you and your Rhiannon—to sink or swim as you will!”
“Then please be brief,” he sallied. “You were the one who said Rhiannon isn’t safe there for long.”
“Rhiannon is your soul mate, Gideon,” she said. “The female that began this nightmare with you eons ago was not. Had you not fallen, Rhiannon would have had lovers, but she would have walked through her life never knowing she had another half who would make her whole. You get only one soul mate for all eternity. All other romantic partnerships you engage in involve kindred spirits. These are souls attracted to your sphere, souls that through one similarity or another attach themselves to your aura. Hangers-on blinded by your light. They can be very intense relationships, like the one that damned you, dark one, but no other save this one—your Rhiannon—is your true soul mate. Think back…You knew it the minute you set eyes upon her, didn’t you? You knew this one was different.”
“Yes, but how can that be? I am…I
was
an angel created to serve the Arcan gods. How can I even have a soul?”
“Ah, but you do—a gift of the gods along with the gift of free will that has damned you. The gods expected you to obey the spirit side in you. Instead, you turned to the flesh, which is why the gods pursue you so relentlessly. It wasn’t so much the woman, as it was that you betrayed their trust. This they will not abide. And so they cursed you and sent the watchers to enforce your punishment. I will tell you one last thing for free. It is something that you know already if you’ve been paying attention, so it is no hardship, but something you haven’t really taken deep enough to heart…You will have no peace until you free yourself of the watchers. They, too, are eternal, but of a lower form. Unlike you, they are possessed of neither soul nor conscience, which makes them very dangerous.”
Gideon was beginning to think he’d asked the wrong question. She was right. Much of this he knew, but it had never really sunken in the way she presented it now.
It seemed to be her parting gift. There was wisdom to be gained in it somewhere, if only he could see it. Oddly, there was some comfort in what she’d said even if he didn’t fully understand it.
“Hail and farewell, old friend,” Gideon said. “If you are through with me, needs must that I return to the Forest Isle. I left without letting Rhiannon know in order to avoid a confrontation. If we are under siege, she will be frightened, and Marius will have need of me.”
“Then go, dark one. We will not meet again. Call back your feather when you will, and then our days are done.”
I
t had to be the longest night Rhiannon had ever spent. Not wanting to leave her alone at the lodge while he made his rounds, Marius had unchained Sy from the chimney corner and sent the faun on the errand instead. That had been hours ago, and Sy hadn’t returned. It was still several hours before dawn, and Marius had grown restless. It was plain he was concerned about the faun’s tardiness. He needed to go and look for him himself, but he dared not leave her alone long enough to do so, though she pleaded for it.
“If you want to go, please do so,” she urged him. “I am quite capable of fending on my own. I shan’t go off like I did the last time, I assure you. Believe me I have no desire to meet whatever we felt out there earlier.”
“I gave Gideon my word that I would not let you out of my sight until he returned,” Marius said. “We do not know what we are facing here, but I do know Ravelle, and he is a force to be reckoned with. I cannot leave you on your own to deal with that. I wouldn’t even if I hadn’t given Gideon my word.”
“But what of Sy?” she persisted. “He should have been back long before now, you said so yourself. Suppose something has happened to him?”
“Sy is a simple creature, easily distracted. I am hoping that is all this is. I am worried about the Ancient Ones. I do not like that they have gone inside themselves. I have only seen this twice before, the
silence of the forest,
and on both occasions catastrophe followed.”
“I do not understand it,” Rhiannon said. “Can you not call them back?”
“Folk tend to dismiss the Ancient Ones as mere trees, plants that grow and mature, and are cut down for firewood and for other creature comforts to serve man. They are so much more than that. Inside those aged tree trunks live spirits that are eons old, male and female, possessed of sage wisdom and compassion for all living things. Think of them as gods of the wood. The watchers will not harm them—not even to chastise Gideon. Their magic is great and inexhaustible. You’ve seen their shrines. They are to be respected, not terrorized and driven inward. They are gentle, harmless creatures for the most part, though I have met my fair share of those who have become disgruntled for one reason or another, and vindictive. These matters are usually handled amongst themselves, however. I rarely need to interfere. But such as these are vulnerable to the dark forces that lurk on every plane of existence since time began, and in their weakness, fall prey to such entities as Ravelle and his ilk. This is what worries me.”
“There has to be something we can do,” Rhiannon said.
Marius studied her for a moment. “You are a fearless sort,” he said. “I envy Gideon. You are well-matched.”
“I do not know if I am fearless or just foolhardy,” she said, “but I would follow him no matter where his footsteps lead. Did he not follow me into Outer Darkness? Could I do less? Whatever this is that we have brought down upon you is my fault, and I will do all within my power to set it to rights.”
“It was not your fault that the watchers cast you into hell, lady,” Marius said. “Fault doesn’t enter into it. Ravelle needs no provocation to set his sites upon me. We are old adversaries. He seeks out his victim’s most vulnerable spot to attack—never the victim himself. This way the wounding is crueler. In my case, it is my charges here—the Ancient Ones and creatures of the wood that I am duty bound to protect. I know each and every one of those trees in that forest on a personal level. Over time, they have become part of me, and I have become part of them. It is as if we have become one entity. I know no better way to explain it. He knows that whatever he does to them will pain me more than if he dealt a direct blow to me. I fear that is what is happening here now.”
“Is there nothing we can do?”
“We wait until Ravelle makes his next move. Then we shall see.”
Rhiannon said no more. She didn’t understand the demon’s glamour. Was Ravelle among them in the physical sense? It had certainly seemed that way when Marius had led her back to the lodge earlier, or had the demon merely projected his image into their midst?
She sipped the sassafras tea Marius had brewed, and nibbled at the hearty little breakfast cakes made of unborn grains, whole wheat, and honey that were a staple on the isle, and waited. But when the fish-gray streamers of first light finally broke over the forest, and the silence that had fallen over the trees like a pall hadn’t lifted, she knew that whatever the mystery surrounding the demon’s glamour was, there would be a reckoning.
By midmorning, the storm clouds hovering overhead were so dense and threatening, Rhiannon was having difficulty justifying that night had given way to morning. Marius went often to the threshold, shielding his eyes from the dusky glare that promised a deluge, searching the air for some sign of Gideon’s winged profile in bold relief against the roiling clouds. But it was nearly high noon before that image plummeted through the clouds dodging lightning bolts and disappeared inside the canopy of still branches bearing motionless leaves.
Marius seized his quiver and slung it over his shoulder. Snatching his longbow, he hesitated in the open doorway. “Remain here,” he said. “He needs my arrows, and I cannot be distracted over you if I would prevent calamity here.”
She had given up trying to make the sky give birth to Gideon, and Marius had seen Gideon before she did. She ran to his side. “Marius, please…” she pleaded, wanting to go with him.
The forest lord’s posture clenched, and he showed her a side of his nature she had never seen and wished never to see again. His dark eyes smoldered like live coals, and his jaw muscles began to tick in a steady rhythm. There was murder in those eyes. They were immutable, their message unequivocal. In spite of herself, she gasped.
“Lady,
stay
!” he demanded. “Do not think to defy me. The watchers no longer care to wait for him to enter a woman to strike. They are not only after blood, they hunger for his very soul! Distract me now and they surely will have it! Now, do not cross this threshold.”
Well, well, the Lord of the Forest has a temper,
she realized, but the thought was scarcely out when Marius, loosing a string of expletives, stripped off the quiver, tossed down the bow, and began tearing at his clothes, ripping them off and flinging them every which way. It was almost as if he was compelled to strip naked before her. There was no shred of modesty in him. It was as if she wasn’t even there.
It took Rhiannon a moment to realize what was happening. Marius had become like a man possessed in the throes of the strange frenzy that had left him standing before her in all his erect magnificence, his body, like burnished bronze gleaming in the glow of rushlights set about in sconces on the roughly hewn walls. Her breath caught in her throat and she backed up apace, for the last boot had scarcely sailed through the air when a blinding streak of white-hot silver light, like liquid mercury, surged around the naked forest lord before her, lifting him into the air.
“Mica on his throne!” Marius gritted out through clenched teeth as he came down not as a man, but as the centaur. “Now see what you’ve done!” he seethed.
Snatching the quiver and bow he’d hurled down when the transformation began, he burst through the lodge door that was barely wide enough to accommodate his bulk, knocking over a chair and trestle table in his path, and galloped out into the jaundiced midday twilight, a roar like nothing human Rhiannon had ever heard echoing after him.
She staggered to the open doorway and leaned against the jamb. The arrows left Marius’s longbow in rapid succession so swiftly she saw only the blur of their motion as he disappeared into the forest. She could scarcely believe her eyes. How had that happened? How had he shapeshifted into the centaur when it wasn’t moon dark? Whatever the phenomenon, after what she’d seen in Marius’s eyes, she would not leave the lodge, though she ached to run to Gideon, to see for herself that he’d come through the watcher’s barrage unharmed. She longed to tell him what had occurred to her as the perfect solution to their dilemma, but what she had just witnessed with Marius had rooted her to the spot.
Rhiannon sank to her knees in the doorway. Outside, the lightning flashed in snakelike columns streaking across the clearing, illuminating the stiff-limbed trees standing in their unnatural aspects. Neither a branch, nor twig, nor leaf moved in the deathly stillness that had fallen over the forest, as the heavens opened, dumping torrents of rain upon them—oak and pine, rowan, ash, and whitethorn alike.
She shut her eyes against the blue-white glare, and the next thing she knew she was in Gideon’s arms. Raising her up, he crushed her close, then held her away, his wild eyes raking her from head to toe. They hadn’t missed Marius’s clothing strewn about. He cast a hard eye toward the disheveled pile of buckskins and cambric, then turned his dark gaze upon her.
“What happened here?” he said, shaking her gently. “What did you do to bring out the centaur?”
“What did
I
do?” Rhiannon cried, twisting in his arms.
“Aside from during the dark of the moon, Marius does not shapeshift unless he is sexually or emotionally challenged. What set him off?”
“Well, it certainly wasn’t sexual,” Rhiannon defended. “He’s been agitated since you left. A strange silence fell over the forest. He wouldn’t leave me because you asked him not to, so he sent Sy to make his rounds for him. When Sy didn’t return he became edgy. Then when you finally did return and he set out to help you, he told me not to leave the lodge. I didn’t want him to leave me alone. I was about to ask him to take me to you with him, and he…he…I don’t know. I’ve never seen anything like what happened! He threw off his clothes, and the next thing I knew the centaur charged out of here all but knocking that door off its hinges. What is going on?”
“I do not know,” Gideon said, raking his hands through his hair. “I only wish I did.”
“Where is Marius now?” Rhiannon asked.
“I do not know that either,” said Gideon. “He stomped off into the wood like a madman after he fired on the watchers. Sy is nowhere to be found, and the silence of the trees can only mean calamity. He suspects Ravelle, as do I, and I know we must leave here. We’ve brought enough down upon Marius, but the rune caster was right, I cannot abandon him now, when he needs me, especially since I’ve caused this nightmare.”
“Gideon, we need to talk. I think I’ve figured out a way for us.”
He took her by the arm and led her to the pool chamber. “That will have to wait,” he said. “I have to find Marius and see what’s to be done out there. If it is Ravelle that we’re dealing with, we need to send him back to Outer Darkness where he belongs. Marius cannot do that on his own, neither can I, but maybe together…At any rate, I need to help him, and I cannot do that with you underfoot. I want you to stay here, where you are safe, while I see to it. Will you do as I ask, or must I lock you in? Never mind. I think I will lock you in, in any case. Ravelle is able to shapeshift as well. He takes many forms. He is very clever at it. Remember what happened in the astral, when you thought that creature was me. Ravelle is able to do the same magic. If he were to get hold of you now and spirit you back into Outer Darkness…No! I will lock you in until I settle this. You haven’t slept. While I am gone, refresh yourself in the pool and rest. We can ill afford to take chances now. I have but one feather left to call back, and we will need that to buy our freedom when needs must.”
“There has to be some way that I could distinguish between you,” Rhiannon pleaded. The thought of being locked away in the pool chamber terrified her. What if the catastrophe both Gideon and Marius feared came to pass and neither of them returned? She would be trapped. There was no rear exit to the pool chamber except underwater, and she had no idea how long a stretch it was to reach another air pocket, or where it would take her even if she did.
“There would be no physical difference,” Gideon responded. “Demeanor is the only way, just as it was in the astral, when you finally knew that entity was not me. Ask a question—something only I would know, but it will not come to that.”
He crushed her close in a smothering embrace, cocooning her in his wings. She could feel the pent-up sexual energy flowing through his dynamic body. She could feel it in the pressure of his hard roped torso, in the tightness of the corded muscles in his biceps and well-turned thighs. Their oaken circumference was so perfectly sculpted it was as if they had been turned on a lathe, every sinew, every ligament a conduit for the sexual stream flowing between them in their oneness.
The bruising hardness of his erect penis leaned heavily against her pubic mound as he drew her closer still, finding her lips with his warm, searching mouth. His hands roamed over her body through the fine homespun shift Marius had provided, lingering upon the turgid peaks of her nipples poking through the fabric.
“Gods above, but you are beautiful,” he murmured, working the hard nubbin on one breast between his thumb and forefinger.
“Gideon, please don’t lock me in here,” she pleaded. “Lock the outer doors if you must, but do not leave me trapped in this pool chamber.”
“Were you and Marius both out of the lodge at the same time earlier, no matter how briefly?”
“I went for a walk and he came to fetch me back when the trees went silent,” she replied.
“Was that before or after Sy went missing?”
“After, why?”