Belladonna

Chapter Twenty-two

Michael spread the blanket at the top of a gentle slope that led down to the lake. Maybe he should have offered to set things up where there was a bit of shade, despite the coolness of the day, but right now he needed to feel the sun’s warmth seeping into him, and he didn’t think Glorianna, despite being so fair-skinned, wanted to hide her face from the sun today either.

“You’re more practical than my brother,” Glorianna said as she walked up to him, her saddlebags over one shoulder.

“How so?” He smoothed the last corner, feeling more awkward than the first time he’d had a private picnic with a girl. Woman, really. She had been older than him and knew a few things he was more than willing to learn. Still, that first time with a new girl, when a boy wasn’t sure if he’d get a hand cracked across his face or if the girl would smile and say “more,” always made the heart beat a little harder.

“Lee would have put the blanket on the slope and then gotten stubborn about moving it until he’d spilled something on himself. You chose flat ground.”

“I prefer eating food to wearing it.” The image flashed into his mind, of him dipping his fingers into whipped cream and mounding it, ever so gently, over her bare breasts. No need to add a berry on top because the berry—

“Are you all right?” Glorianna asked. “You look flushed.”

“I’m fine.” He shifted on the blanket and sat in a way he hoped would hide just how fine he was feeling.

She waited for a beat, then set the saddlebags down on the blanket. “Why don’t you set out what’s there while I get the rest.”

He winced at the tone but didn’t offer to get up and help. Despite feeling troubled by what he had seen during their ride that morning, this was the first time they had been alone since he’d showed up on her island, and he was hoping for a little romance before they got back to Lighthaven’s community. He didn’t want to scare her off by having her notice just how ready he was for a little romance.

“This is a clever idea,” he said with hearty enthusiasm as he lifted the container of cold chicken out of one saddlebag, followed by the water skin that had been nestled beneath it. Judging by the way her eyebrows rose, maybe he’d sounded a bit too hearty. “Well, it is,” he muttered.

“No one has ever thought to fill up a water skin and put it in the ice house overnight, and then use it to keep food fresh when you’re traveling?”

“If someone has, I haven’t heard of it.”

They divided the food, then settled down to eat.

As long as he kept his eyes away from the lake, he could enjoy having a picnic with the woman who heated his blood and warmed his heart, and could imagine them having more times like this, a lifetime of days like this. But the lake always intruded.

“It’s not a natural fog, is it?” he asked, turning his head to look at the lake—and the fog that still shrouded its surface.

“Since that is the nature of this lake, you could call it natural,” Glorianna replied.

He shook his head. “If it was just fog, it would have burned off by now.”

Setting aside the bones of the chicken leg she’d devoured, she delicately licked her fingers clean. Watching her just about broke his restraint.

“Fog obscures,” Glorianna said. “It hides things—dangerous pieces of ground…or dangerous facets of a person’s nature. It’s also a warning about the nature of a landscape, that the Dark currents are strong there.”

“Lady of Light, have mercy,” Michael murmured, dropping his head to his raised knees.

“Michael?”

Her hand on his shoulder, a comforting stroke. He turned his head to look at her. “The place I wanted you to see is called Foggy Downs. They’re good people, Glorianna. I was hoping you would know how to help them.”

“Wanted me to see?”

She was closing herself off from him, backing away emotionally. He could see it in her face. When she stretched out on her back and stared at the sky, he knew he’d slipped badly, but he wasn’t sure what he’d done to upset her.

Then he thought about what he’d said and just sighed. No point chiding himself for words being taken in a way he hadn’t meant. At least he knew how to fix this.

He packed up the remains of their meal and set it aside. Then he stretched out beside her, propped on one elbow so he could see her face.

“I still want you to see it,” he said quietly. “I want that for myself and for those people. But I’m beginning to understand how much weight you already carried on your shoulders, and now you have more. I don’t want to add to the burden more than I’ve already done.”

She’d been staring straight up, ignoring his closeness even though his face must have blocked half her view of the sky. Now she frowned, and those green eyes shifted to look straight into his.

“Ever since I met you, you’ve been helping my family in one way or another—and putting aside your own tasks to do it. You haven’t been on your island looking after your own because you’ve been looking after me and mine.”

She gave him an odd look. “What makes you think one is different from the other?”

Am I yours? Something in him shimmered with joy, and for a moment he could have sworn the air tasted sweeter and the sun shone brighter. Suddenly, this delicate connection between them was more important than anything else in the world. Her feelings were more important than anything else.

He shifted until he halfway covered her, so that, when she looked up, he was all she would see.

“If I’m yours, how would you feel about a few kisses?” he asked, giving her a smile that was equal parts playfulness and charm in an effort to lighten the mood.

She looked more amused than charmed. “Why are you so interested in kisses?”

He did his best to shift his expression to confused sincerity. “I’m a man.”

Laughter lit her eyes while she struggled to keep a straight face. “I suppose we could indulge in a few kisses.”

“Maybe more than a few,” he said, touching his lips to the corner of her mouth as he changed the tone of the song forming between them. “But not more than kisses. Not here. Not today.” He raised his head and saw the confusion in her eyes. “Not for our first time. For that, I want a bed…and candlelight. I want to drift on the scent of your skin and float on the touch of your hand. And in all the years to follow, when we’re laughing and quarreling and living, I want to see the memory of that first time shine in your eyes whenever I touch you, fill you, love you. I want that, Glorianna, for both of us. So, for today, I promise nothing but kisses.”

“Do you keep your promises, Magician?” she asked, her voice husky with desire.

He brushed his lips against hers. “I do.” And the truth of that was bittersweet. “I most certainly do.”

Then his mouth closed over hers, and he spoke to her in a language that had no need of words.

Who was this man who could kiss her and make the world melt away and still had the self-control to roll to his side of the blanket and say, “Best to stop now, darling, while I still have a few brains left in my head”? How could he understand so much and still understand so little?

But he understood the land, understood what he was seeing—and not seeing. It had sobered both of them after they’d gathered up their things and continued the ride.

No word was spoken, but they both reined in as soon as they came within sight of Lighthaven’s buildings.

“Well,” Michael said. “It could have been worse. There’s fresh water and fish in the streams. There’s woodland, so there’s game for food and wood for the fires. And there are meadows and pastureland and the acreage that’s been farmed.”

“The land is sound and can sustain itself,” Glorianna agreed. “Can the people?” She noted his reluctance to look at her and had her answer. Unfortunately, it matched her own opinion of the people who tended this Place of Light. “They hobbled themselves, Michael. The Places of Light tend to be separated from the world around them because, long ago, the Guardians who took up the task of nurturing the Light decided that a simple life helped the heart and mind remain at peace. But the people who live in those places usually are not without resources…or knowledge. They may live simple lives, but there is nothing simple about their skills. If isolated, they could survive.”

“Until they died out.” Now he looked at her. “I don’t know how it is in the other Places of Light, but I’m not blind to the look and feel of this place, Glorianna. Lighthaven belongs to the Ladies of Light. Men may come up from Atwater and the surrounding farms to do manual labor—of all sorts—” he added in a mutter, remembering the hungry, speculative looks he’d gotten from some of the younger Sisters while he was saddling the horses. “But they don’t live here. And I’m thinking we’re not going to find anyone outside this community on this land. Not a cottage, not a farm. No one.”

“My concern is more immediate,” she said. “How many of these women have ever nocked an arrow to a bow and gone out to hunt their dinner? How many have chopped down a tree or even chopped wood? How many have thrown a line in the water to catch fish? How many have tilled the land before they planted a kitchen garden? What about feed for the animals? Oats? Hay?”

He swore softly and scrubbed his fingers through his hair. “Well, can’t you—no, I guess it would be Lee, wouldn’t it—can’t he put in one of those bridges?”

“To go where?” She waited to see if he understood the question, but there was only confusion.

Reminding herself that, until a few days ago, his view of the world had been fairly linear, and a straight road between two places actually would have taken him between one place and the other, she dismounted and gave the horse a long rein so it could graze while she gave the man her full attention.

He hesitated, as if trying to figure out the reason for her action, then did the same.

“Borders and boundaries.” She fisted her hands and held them out, pressed together. “When two similar landscapes belong to the same Landscaper, they can be fitted together as a border—a place where people can cross over without using a bridge.”

“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 Landscapers’ 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. Foggy. 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 for it.”

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 fields 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.”

“And who are you expecting to come up with this story?” Michael asked, since he was beginning to feel like a mouse cornered by a pair of black-haired, green-eyed cats.

Lee cocked a thumb at Kenneday. “He’s already come up with the part about how to find the mystical island of Lighthaven. The least you can do is come up with the reason it disappeared.”

“So,” Kenneday said, looking thoughtful, “you steer a bit of a boat between the Stones, and if you’re worthy you’ll reach Lighthaven’s shore. And if you’re not, you’ll just keep going until you reach the other side of the lake and never find the island?”

“It will be a resonating bridge,” Lee said. “So, yes, you might keep going until you reach the other shore. Or you might suddenly find yourself on another lake in another part of Elandar.”

“Or on a river in some part of the world you’ve never seen before,” Glorianna added.

“Or you could find yourself sitting in your bit of a boat in the middle of a farmer’s potato field,” Lee said.

A startled silence. Then Kenneday said, “Well, that would be a crap on the romance of it, now wouldn’t it?”

Lee leaned forward a little farther to look at Kenneday. “Welcome to our part of the world.”

Michael slapped his hands on his knees. “This is all well and good, and I’m willing to try my hand at spinning a story, but you’re all forgetting one thing. How are we going to get two of those Stones and how do we plop them in the lake where they need to go?”

Another silence. Or maybe the room was full of sound that he couldn’t hear. Because now he looked at Glorianna Belladonna, who said softly, “Ephemera, hear me.”

She didn’t leave the room to see what she had done. Neither did Lee. But he went out, along with Kenneday and Caitlin, and walked down the road that now ended at the shore.

The Sentinel Stones rose up midway between the shores. Huge, black stones Michael knew hadn’t been there a few minutes ago. Stones that were both guard and doorway to a place that didn’t want to be touched by the world.

“Lady of Light, have mercy,” Kenneday whispered.

“I’m thinking when you stand in this place, the person you should be asking for mercy is called Glorianna Belladonna,” Michael said. Because she can remake the world. He glanced at Caitlin Marie, who looked so young and scared as she stared at the Stones. He put his arm around her. “Come along. Let it go for tonight. I’m thinking tomorrow is going to be another long day.”

She turned and pressed her face into his shoulder. “I’m scared, Michael.”

He kissed the top of her head. “So am I, Caitie. So am I.”

Hearts full of dissonance, unhappiness, yearnings. Glorianna drank the tea, wishing it were koffee, and let the hearts of the two women in the room flow through her. One needed to stay; the other needed to go. But there were other things that needed to be done first, so she gave Lee a pointed look.

“You’re going to need a bridge,” Lee said. Seeing their blank faces, he clarified, “A connection to another landscape. You’ll need supplies, a way to purchase things you can’t make or grow. And you’re going to need strong backs to help with some of the labor. Even if we could have done it, which we can’t, Atwater wouldn’t have been the best choice. My sense of the place was that the people wouldn’t be open-minded enough right now to being connected to another landscape in that way.”

Glorianna waited for some response, but neither Brighid nor Shaela disagreed with Lee’s assessment.

“So,” Lee continued, “is there another village on the White Isle that might be a suitable host for a bridge?”

There were advantages to talking to people who weren’t familiar with landscapes and bridges, Glorianna thought. Lee had already said he couldn’t create a stationary bridge between Lighthaven and the White Isle, but they needed a starting point to begin searching for Caitlin’s garden, and that meant finding another community of people on the island.

Brighid and Shaela exchanged a look.

“There is Darling’s Harbor,” Brighid said reluctantly, “but the people there have always been a bit strange.”

“And they’ve gotten stranger,” Shaela murmured.

“How so?” Glorianna asked, trying to remain calm. Darling’s Garden. Darling’s Harbor. Couldn’t be a coincidence.

“For one thing, during my years here, their young people would show up before the summer or winter solstice and bring a gift, then say they were going to be journeying and would we hold them in the Light,” Brighid said. “They always struck me as a simple people who were supremely confident that they were exactly where they were supposed to be.”

Glorianna felt Ephemera’s currents of power brush playfully against her own currents. She sat up straighter. There was one explanation for an entire village of people feeling confident that they were where they belonged, and it had nothing to do with them being simple.

“This village wouldn’t have a pair of Sentinel Stones, would it?” she asked.

“It does,” Brighid replied.

Glorianna knew that Lee was watching her, adding up the pieces as fast as she was.

There was a resonating bridge in the village of Darling’s Harbor, and the people there used it to go journeying. Some of them must have crossed over into landscapes beyond Elandar. Maybe they weren’t simple; maybe they didn’t want to admit they knew more about the world than the people around them.

“Anything else you can tell us about Darling’s Harbor?” Lee asked.

“They’ve gotten stranger,” Shaela said, more loudly this time. “Two or three times a year, a pair of them comes to Lighthaven, cap in hand, and asks if we’ve had news about the Seer, did we know when the Seer was coming back. A few years ago, when a bad storm swept over the whole island, they came to say the Seer’s house had been struck by lightning and burned clean to the ground, and should they be waiting to build another. Then this spring they came back to say they had built a new house and it was ready for the Heart Seer and did we have news of when she was coming.”

Glorianna’s heart beat fast and hard. “When did this start? How many years ago?”

Shaela shrugged. “A few.”

“How many?” When both women stared at her uneasily, she set down her cup and struggled for patience. “This started twelve years ago, didn’t it? They started asking about the Seer twelve years ago.”

Shaela frowned, but it was thoughtful rather than annoyed. Finally she nodded. “Yes, I think it was a dozen years ago that this started.”

Brighid gasped.

Glorianna nodded and said, “That’s when Caitlin found Darling’s Garden, wasn’t it?”

“But Caitlin’s not a Heart Seer,” Brighid protested. “Besides, that garden was hidden somewhere on the hill behind our cottage. According to stories, the women in Devyn’s family had found it a few times in the years since Darling first came to live at Raven’s Hill.”

“Caitlin isn’t a Heart Seer,” Glorianna agreed, “but she is a Landscaper who is a descendant of the Guide who had shaped that garden. That’s why it appeared for some of the women in that family. It came to them because they were Landscapers who no longer remembered how to go to it.”

“The garden acts as a separate landscape that can be imposed over another place, like my island?” Lee asked.

“Yes.” Glorianna looked at Brighid. “That’s why no one else living in Raven’s Hill could find it. It only existed on that hill for Caitlin Marie. The rest of the time it was here, on the White Isle. Where it had been created.”

“Looks like we’re going to Darling’s Harbor,” Lee said. “I’ll talk to Kenneday when he gets back from staring at the Sentinel Stones, and see if he’s sailed to that village.”

“We’ll wait until morning.” She wanted a few hours to go back to her own garden and make sure there was no sign that the Eater of the World had found Its way into one of her landscapes. And she needed to talk to Nadia.

Lee looked disapproving, since he knew her well enough to figure out the reason for the delay, but he didn’t say anything. Not much he could say since she knew he wouldn’t be turning in early either but, instead, would be making notes about the possible landscapes that might be connected to the White Isle or Lighthaven.

Lee pushed out of his chair, then proceeded to stack cups and dishes on the tray. He lifted the tray and smiled at Shaela. “Could I give you a hand with the clearing up?”

Not subtle, Glorianna thought as she watched Shaela stumble over the veiled order to leave the room, but not as blunt as he might have been.

“Your brother has a way about him,” Brighid said when they were alone.

“That’s one way of putting it,” Glorianna replied, smiling.

Brighid didn’t return the smile. “I don’t know how to say this.”

“You don’t belong here.”

Brighid closed her eyes. “I don’t belong here. I should…but I don’t.”

When Brighid opened her eyes, Glorianna saw confusion, but there was no confusion in the yearnings that came from Brighid’s heart. This heart needed the Light—and more than the Light.

“Do you need to live in this kind of secluded community?” Glorianna asked.

Brighid shook her head. “I’ve felt secluded in one way or another all my life. When I went to Raven’s Hill to take care of the children, I had hoped…” Her voice trailed off as sadness filled her face.

No, Glorianna thought. For a descendent of the first Guardians of the Light, the toil of the world would have been too hard to bear—especially living in that cottage. But there was a way for Brighid to live in the Light and meet the world.

“Do you feel well enough to travel with us tomorrow?” Glorianna asked.

“Well enough.”

“In that case, we’ll go to Darling’s Harbor to search for Caitlin’s garden.” Glorianna smiled. “And then I will show you Sanctuary.”