See Prologue (A) for Disclaimers

Chapter Twelve

Shallan was a good boy at heart, and Eleni knew it well: the only way to assure that he would not spread tales of his adventures once they arrived home was to show him the truth, and to impress on him that there were people depending on his silence.  And so the decision was made to take Shallan back to Wood's Heart.  It would both to give the boy time to recover from his frights and -- in Eleni's wise opinion -- demonstrate how great a danger his actions had placed others.  

An hour later, as they were finally preparing to return home, Eleni asked her grandson, "Do you understand now, love?  Do you understand why you cannot tell anyone of your little adventure tonight?"

Shallan nodded, his eyes wide and -- for perhaps the first time ever -- truly solemn.  He had been utterly fascinated by the village hidden deep within the Wood, and by its residents and the histories they confided to him.  He learned more about the world outside his own small town in that hour than he had in all the years of asking questions of travelers.  He learned of evil and of love, of magick and the price paid for defying gods and sorcerers, of the danger of fighting the good fight -- and of simply being born in a shape that had not been seen in the mortal world for enough centuries that it was considered legend.

Shallan grew up in that hour, and became the child that one would have expected from Eleni's bloodline, though his exuberance was not quelled.  He was not an unintelligent boy and, as Eleni had known would happen, he knew that his fascination would not be the guaranteed reaction of the other townsfolk outside the forest.

His voice was soft now as he answered, "I do.  People might be scared of them, even though they're good, because they're not like us.  They might try to hurt them.  The way Chino Blackhair did."

Eleni nodded, but it was Rhianna who spoke next.  The little boy had been instantly smitten by her fair looks when he saw her, so his attention was riveted to her as she told him, "Yes, Shallan.  And though the magick protects us, our greatest defense is secrecy.  So long as no one knows we are here, we need not fear them.  If even one person who meant us ill found his way into the Wood, we would be in great danger.  For eventually others would come, and more after them . . ."

"And eventually," Ordan put in softly from behind her, "there would be too many.  And then we would be lost."

Shallan's gaze went to Jorek, who stood at his father's side, his eyes as wide and innocent as Shallan's own.  The boy had been openly welcoming to Shallan, who now felt as if he had a new friend as well as someone to protect.  Shallan nodded at Ordan, and at Rhianna.  "I understand.  I won't tell anyone," he vowed solemnly.

Rhianna smiled.  "Thank you, Shallan," she said.  "We owe you much."

Shallan gave her a smile in return and asked his grandmother, "But can I come with you now, when you come to trade for things?"

Eleni smiled.  "I don't see why not," she agreed with a look at the villagers.  They all looked relieved and amused, to varying degrees.

Niirin smiled at Shallan and tapped him lightly on the head.  "Be welcome to the Wood."

~*~*~*~

Sharak frowned at the assemblage of people in the town's center.  They all looked very solemn, and not a note of music was to be heard.  He glanced at Pasha as she came to a stop beside him, hoping she might have some idea of what was going on.  She frowned as well, then lifted her chin, nostrils flaring as she sought out the scents that drifted up to them on a cool breeze.  Abruptly, her eyes narrowed.  "Eleni," she murmured.

Sharak's frown grew, turning into confusion.  "The tavern-keep?  From the town outside the wood?"

Pasha's nod was all the answer he got.  The girl started down the path before him, her feet finding the half-hidden steps with an ease that bespoke excellent night-vision.  Sharak cursed under his breath and found his way down a bit slower, as he lacked that gift.  By the time he reached the crowd, Pasha had made her way deep within it and he was left to search out the faces he knew.  Thankfully, they seemed to be towards the outer rim.

Welcome back, Ruh's voice said calmly in his mind.   Are you sure you wouldn't like to take the rest  of the evening?  It's nearly dawn.

Sharak sent the mental equivalent of a glare to the tiger.   I was . . . busy.

Ruh's snort was audible as well as mental.   So we heard.

Sharak nearly stopped mid-step to aim a confused look at his friend, but Dar spotted him first, waving him over to their little group with a small motion.  "Pasha said the tavern-keeper was here?" the sorcerer asked.

Dar nodded.  "It seems she's known about Wood's Heart all along, since she was a child.  She trades with them."  He smiled slightly.  "And then her grandson decided to discover the secrets of the Wood."

Sharak frowned.  "The boy found his way here?"

Tao chuckled.  "Not quite.  He found his way into the Wood -- and then he got lost."

"Ruh found him," Miren put in.  "And he told Dar when Eleni arrived and said she was looking for him."

Sharak nodded, pretending to not be confused.  "Ah."

Across the "square," Pasha was listening with interest to a similar narrative from her parents.  She cast a friendly glance to Eleni and her grandson, the latter of which seemed a bit dazed by the sheer amount of information that had been pressed on him.  He also, she noticed with an amused smile, seemed more than a bit enthralled by Rhianna.  She approached the other woman as Eleni settled Shallan on her broad lap for a snack before they set out for home.

Rhianna turned to her with a small smile of greeting.  Pasha paused as she got up close to the woman, her eyebrows rising as she caught the swirl of new scents on Rhianna's skin and clothes.  It would seem that she hadn't been the only one to have an extra bit of fun this night.  And . . . with the BeastMaster, no less.  Now that was interesting . . .

Rhianna saw the speculative/amused expression on Pasha's face and blushed.  She blushed deeper as the young woman leaned in and murmured, "Tomorrow, ye are t' tell me  everythin'."

Pasha turned her attention from Rhianna to Ordan, noticing the lingering scents of anger and attraction about the handsome man, as well as the way he was looking at Rhianna.  She smiled slightly and added, "Or mayhap ye'd best tell Ordan.  It may be enough to finally get him past his own fears."

Rhianna frowned, then she glanced at Ordan.  Their eyes met across the table, and held.  Rhianna felt something pass between them that she had never sensed before, at least not this strong.  And never maintained for this long.  Ordan's gaze seemed almost molten as it held her own, and very slowly he smiled.  Not much, just the lightest touch to the corners of his mouth, but Rhianna interpreted it with her heart as well as her mind.

She didn't know if Ordan had guessed what had happened between her and Dar, or if this was just a natural development, but she welcomed it.  She smiled back at him, just as softly.

From a distance away, Dar noticed the interaction and smiled in approval.

~*~*~*~

An hour later, long before the sun was ready to crest the horizon (despite Ruh's teasing to the contrary), Eleni and Shallan were on their way back outside the forest, and Wood's Heart was settling down.  The tables had been cleared, the food distributed evenly amongst the denizens, the torches put out.  The nonresidents of the village melted back into the surrounding forest with quiet murmurs and rumbles of thanks and parting, and the children clung sleepily to parents who took them back to their homes to be put to bed.

Sharak declined Pasha's offer of a shared bed for the night with a soft kiss, much to Ruh's amusement.  Dar, Tao and the sorcerer helped Ordan carry a few wayward supplies to the house, while Rhianna carried the only slightly lighter burden of Jorek, who was almost fast asleep.  Kodo and Podo went with them, and Ruh went to find a suitable perch for the evening.  Finally, the only people left in the square were Tao and Miren, the former having returned from Ordan and Rhianna's house when Miren didn't follow them in.

The young woman was seated on the far edge of one of the permanent benches, in the center of the square, close to the fountain.  She sat leaning back slightly, her eyes cast up towards the sky.  Tao smiled as he approached her.  "Looking for pictures?" he asked lightly.

Miren looked at him and smiled, then looked back at the star-strewn expanse above them.  "Looking for answers."

Tao frowned slightly and sat down next to her.  "What kind of answers?"

Almost absently, he reached for her, his hands settling on her shoulders and gently working at the knots he could feel under her skin.  Miren sighed, repositioned herself so that the task was easier, and considered for a moment before replying.  "Just . . . answers," she said finally.  "Why the world works the way it does.  Why things happen as they do.  How a place like this . . . people like this . . . can exist."  She paused and turned her head slightly to look at the man behind her.  "People like you, like Dar and Sharak, who help a stranger without asking or desiring anything in return.  And Ricenne, who sacrificed her Self to protect people she'd never even met."

Tao sighed slightly, changing his grip so that his hands slid down her arms and then circled around to become a light embrace.  Miren relaxed into his hold, her weight warm against his chest.  Tao curved one arm over her arms, about her torso, and rested his other arm just under the curve of her belly.  He could feel the baby stir in her womb, kicking out slightly, almost sleepily.  He smiled again and rested the side of his head against Miren's.  "People who care are not as difficult to find as you think," he said quietly, into her ear.  "You just lived in the wrong place to look."

Miren chuckled slightly.  "Not something you need to tell me, dearest."

Tao smiled and laid a light kiss against her hair.  "I know.  But perhaps something you need reminding of.  The world is a far warmer place than you've known, Miren."

She nodded.  "I know.  Now."  Miren smiled and tilted her head back a bit, nestling into the crook of his shoulder as she looked back up at the stars.  "And my child will never need to doubt it.  This place . . . it will be a good home."

"That it will," Tao murmured.  "And you will be a wonderful mother."

Miren turned her head slightly, angling so that she could look at him.  "Do you think so?"

He nodded, smiling softly.  "I have no doubt of it," he told her.  "You truly know the value of love and security.  You would be a gift as a teacher to any child."

She smiled softly and shifted her position so that she could stroke the fingers of one hand lightly against his cheek.  She said nothing for a long moment, then murmured, "Thank you, Tao.  For everything."

"And you, Miren," he answered.  "And you."

~*~*~*~

Sharak wanted to face his ghosts at daybreak, but his body's reminder of the effect of too much wine stopped him.  Once that was past, however, he made his way to what was to him the true heart of the Wood, leaving before Dar could corral him into speaking about whatever was so clearly on the young BeastMaster's mind.   Now the sorcerer hesitated at the door of the small cottage, then reached out and knocked before he could lose any of his hard-won resolution.

Ricenne sat in an ancient-looking rocking chair.  She had been sewing at some point, but her vacant gaze when he arrived at the door told him that the task had lain forgotten for a time as invisible threads pulled her attention away.  Now she blinked and turned slightly to look at him with a curious, polite smile.

Sharak entered the one-room cottage, feeling the comfort it offered despite his private grief at seeing it.  This was a place where small magicks were worked, where healing draughts were made, where tears were dried -- even if the cause for each and every one of them was lost in the Elneseyrna's dreams moments later.  Somehow, despite all the changes that twelve millennia had wrought on both of them, this place still felt like what he remembered of her working quarters in the Sorcerers' City.

Sharak smiled and approached her.  "What were you dreaming of, Ricenne?"

The Elneseyrna smiled.  "Flowers," she answered.  "Flowers drifting in mist and clouds, and making everything bright and warm . . ."  She paused, frowning as he reached her and knelt in front of her.  "That name," she murmured.  "I think I remember it . . ."

"It's yours," Sharak told her.  "Ricenne.  Daughter of Elric and Mynia, of the Kisitli Valley.  Your father was a woodsman and your mother was an herb-woman.  She taught you about potions and teas --"

She smiled softly.  "Vevrina for fever and heart's-root for grief," she recited.  "Dragon-flame for the eyes and misiris for pain. . ."  Her gaze became distant again.  "All the flowers drifting by and clouds to carry them far from home, dancing through the moonlight and the stars . . ."

Sharak placed his hand atop hers, his fingers slipping through the space between her own until they were entwined.  He opened his mind and let his Power slip down the link between their bodies, calling to her, pulling her attention into the cooler light of reality.  He felt the stirring of her mind, the eddies of dreams and visions calming, stilling slowly. . .

Her eyes cleared and Ricenne looked down at him.  ". . . Sharak?" she whispered.

The shapeshifter smiled, fighting tears of relief.  The Power wouldn't keep her grounded for long, but it might be long enough.  It had been Pasha's comment that made him recall her reaction to touching his mind the previous night.  "Yes, Ricenne," he said.

She frowned, her eyes wondering as she reached out her free hand and touched his face.  "It is you . . .  This is not part of my dreaming?  I felt -- I felt something calling . . ."

Sharak shook his head.  "No, dearest.  You're awake."

Ricenne smiled slowly, then shook her head.  "How long?" she asked quietly.  Her eyes never left their roaming of his features.

"Since last I saw you, or since I arrived in the Wood?"

"Both."

"A thousand years, and just two nights."  Sharak dared to reach up and touch her face.  Her skin was soft as flower- petals, untouched by either time or the madness that reigned in her mind.  "So long . . .  I'm sorry.  I'm so sorry. . ."

Ricenne shook her head.  "You called to me," she said slowly, feeling the tug of Power still.  "You woke me . . ."  She chuckled.  "It still feels like a dream."  Then her eyes filled with tears, the precious water slipping unnoticed down her cheeks.  "Oh gods . . . Sharak . . ."

He wiped the tears away, taking her into his arms as he whispered urgently, "Hush.  Hush, dearest.  Please . . . don't cry . . ."

She held him tightly, reveling in the feel of him against her body, of his arms just as tight and secure about her.  But the tears would not stop.  "I wanted this -- for you -- for so long.  It was part of why I made the spell.  I'm so sorry -- it was all my fault --"

Sharak pulled away slightly and took her face in his hands.  "No," he told her firmly.  "Don't say that.  Never, never say that.  The Ancient One and his damned laws are to blame, not you.  Never you."  He kissed her forehead, then her eyes and cheeks.  "Never you," he repeated, and finally, after millennia of waiting and wanting, kissed her lips.

Ricenne let out a soft sound, surprise and hope overwhelming her mind and soul, and then kissed him back desperately.  Their mouths moved almost in a contest, each seeking to capture the taste and essence of the other, to express with their bodies what words could never have said and at the same time to lock this moment away in memory where it would never be lost.  They pulled apart only for the need to breathe, and rested their foreheads against one another, hands still touching each other's faces and shoulders.

"I missed you," Ricenne whispered.  "For so long, so very long. . .  Oh gods, Sharak -- I love you.  I have always loved you.  I never meant to hurt you, in any way."  She lifted her head slightly to look at him, their gazes locking.  "If I had known -- I would have watched you and Amerys together and buried my heart in the deepest well -- if it would have spared you this.  Both of you."

Sharak shook his head and kissed her again, softer this time, pleading and soothing.  "Everything happens for a reason," he whispered.  "Everything.  There have been times I cursed the Ancient One for what he did -- to me, to you, to her -- but if he had not . . ."  Sharak took a breath and forced himself to continue.

"If he had not, I would not be the mentor to Curupira's BeastMasters, and the creatures and folk of this Wood would have no guardian . . . and I would not have been granted the time to get past my foolish pride and arrogance and see  you."  He touched her face gently, tracing its lines as if to commit them to memory.  "I love you," he told her, and heard her breath catch.  "I have loved you for the past five thousand years."

"Sharak. . ."  Ricenne touched his face gently with her fingertips, then repeated the motion he had done earlier, kissing his forehead, then eyes, cheeks and lips.  She was silent for a moment, fighting tears, then whispered, "You know the price of the enchantments I've laid on the Wood."

Sharak nodded.  "Is there no way to break them -- without leaving the Wood defenseless."

Ricenne shook her head.  "The magick is tied to me.  It cannot be broken except by death or Pelagia's choice -- and neither will ever come.  The price of losing the enchantments would be too great."  She sighed, then smiled softly.  "Have you seen Wood's Heart, Sharak?"  He nodded.  "There are so many now -- and they have made a home, a true home.  They are . . . my children, Sharak.  As close as I have ever come, or will ever come.  I am mother and healer to them, though most times I am only barely aware of it."

"But you remember," he whispered, his heart aching.

She nodded.  "I remember everything," she answered.  "Always.  It is only that the dreams cloud the memories at times . . ."  She frowned and whispered, "They're calling to me now.  The magick needs the dreams for it to stay whole."

Sharak nodded.  His very soul rebelled against losing her after so brief a time, but there was no other way.  Quietly, he told her, "I will find a way, my beloved.  Some way to release you and still protect the Wood.  I swear it."

Ricenne smiled and touched his face softly, her eyes filling with tears again.  "I would expect nothing less.  I love you, Sharak."

He nodded, tears making their way to his eyes as he kissed her one last time.  "And I love you.  Never forget that."

Ricenne smiled.  "How can I?" she asked.  "It is the one dream I have always cherished."  She sat back and released her hold on waking.  Her fingers relaxed where they lay atop his hand on her lap, and when she smiled again, it was the Elneseyrna who looked down at him, maternal, curious, waiting.

Sharak smiled painfully, his throat closed against words by tears, and lifted her hand to kiss it gently.  The Elneseyrna watched the handsome young man stand and walk to the door.  He left without a word, but she assumed she had given him what he needed.  It was so hard to recall sometimes.

She looked down at the sewing on her lap and picked it up, gathering the thread and regarding the stitches critically.  How like a chain of flowers they seemed . . .  She smiled and lost herself in her dreams once again, leaving a world of sorrows and regrets behind her.

Epilogue

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