Not used to doing this work, her patience was frazzled by the time she mounted up. Finally on her way, she got her bearings and headed for the ridge.
It wasn’t far, and as she got closer, she expected to see him standing at the top, watching for her. She could hardly contain her excitement. Scanning the ridge, she found it empty, but pushed on hoping he was on the other side. Once she arrived, her heart sank with disappointment. Where was he? He must have continued on, but when? How far ahead had he gone?
Mild panic that he had left her set in, but she tamped it down. They still shared the bond, and she could find him easily. Opening to him, dismay caught her breath to encounter a thick barrier. She concentrated on cutting through it, but found it too deep to penetrate.
With cold comprehension, she recognized the cause, and her stomach clenched. A wall of grief cut him off from her. She staggered under the weight. He carried it like a cloak of protection, a dark and solid presence, cutting him off from the rest of humanity. She understood how it hurt him. It went deep, too deep to break.
She hated to find him hurting so much, and there was nothing she could do. In sudden comprehension, she spurred her horse to a gallop. Without hope, Bran would never wait for her, and with the barrier, she didn’t know how to find him.
She reasoned that he couldn’t be too far ahead, and tried to think where he would go. He would probably head straight for Turner to explain what had happened. Turner was the last person she wanted to see, but she hoped to catch up to Bran long before that.
The line of trees came into view late that night. With the moon and stars to light the path, she continued on, hoping to find Bran there with the rest of Turner’s men. Her hope turned to ashes, to find the deserted remnants of a camp.
But he had been here. She felt traces of him everywhere. It brought a certain amount of comfort, and she decided to rest for a few hours. She unsaddled her horse and readied her blankets. The water gave her nourishment, and she determined only to sleep a few hours before starting on the trail again.
Before closing her eyes, she found the new star in the sky. With the Kalorians gone, and Bran so far ahead, she experienced a sudden stab of loneliness. It was a poor consolation for all she had gone through, but she was determined not to wallow in self-pity. She had a job to do, and no matter what happened, she’d find Bran and make things right.
In her need, she reached out to him, and managed to find a small crack in the barrier. It was probably there only because he slept, but it gave her a chance to touch him, even if he was asleep. She poured her love through the crack and felt an immediate response.
The barrier came partway down and she reached out to his essence in quiet greeting. Longing drenched her with sweet abandon, and she sent a pulse of steady reassurance that she was there, that he didn’t need to grieve for her.
Like a dream she felt his arms around her, his warm breath stirring the hair on the top of her head. She breathed in the scent of him, luxuriating in his embrace. The steady beat of his heart was like a symphony to her ears, and she relaxed into the curve of his neck.
Sometime later, she awoke, disoriented to find herself alone. In quiet realization, it disturbed her to be so close to Bran and yet so far away. With frustrated energy, she gathered her things and set out in the early hours of dawn, determined to catch up with him.
She couldn’t bear to be apart. Not after all they’d been through, and all she’d given up for him. It sent an ache through her chest to know he grieved so deeply and all she wanted was to hold him in her arms. As the hours passed, she imagined each step bringing her closer to him. But with each turn of the road, disappointment became her constant companion.
It seemed he ran away from her as quickly as she tried to reach him. The bond was useless, and with his barriers set in place, it was stronger than before. As evening fell, she reached the outskirts of the city and her heart lifted. She hurried through the streets toward the inn where they’d first met up with Jax.
Passing this way brought back the terror of their escape from the king’s soldiers, but she brushed it off. Things were different now. The king was dead and the supply of sym probably thin, if not completely gone. She couldn’t sense anyone using it, and relaxed her tense shoulders.
Relief swept over her at the welcome sight of the inn. Hoping he’d be there, her heart swelled with anticipation. She turned the corner to the back entrance and found the window to Bran’s room dark. Disappointment crashed over her, but maybe he was asleep? The stairs creaked underfoot, and she held her breath and knocked.
No one came. Even though she’d expected it, her heart still broke a little. Remembering where Bran had left the key, she pried up the floorboard and sighed with relief to find it there. With a surge of hope, she inserted the key and opened the door.
The room was empty, but full of his presence. He had been here, and probably spent the night. That meant he was a full day ahead of her. She sighed with bitter resignation. How many days before he stopped long enough for her to catch up?
She stabled her horse with money from the stash hidden in his room, and kept the grove water with her. She couldn’t take a chance on losing it, not when she needed it to plant the seed. At least she was sleeping in a real bed tonight, and that took away some of the sting. The pillow carried Bran’s scent, and sometime in the night, she dreamed that he slept beside her.
****
Morning came, and Teya blushed, remembering the turn her dream had taken. His kisses had felt so real, and her response full of passion. She flushed to realize that in his sleep, Bran had no barriers, and the bond between them opened freely. It encouraged her, yet frustrated her at the same time.
With the barriers down between them, he had to know she was close. Maybe now, she could finally reach him. She sat up, opened the bond, only to meet a solid, unyielding wall. This time, he seemed even more determined to block her out, and her shoulders sagged with discouragement. What was he thinking? Couldn’t he realize she was here?
She shook her head, trying to see it from his point of view. If he really thought she was gone, these ‘dreams’ would be torture for him. It made sense that he would block her out if it caused him pain.
Disheartened, yet resigned, she released her hold on the bond, determined not to push him further away than she already had. She only hoped it didn’t take much longer to find him.
If Bran went to Turner, he had probably gone yesterday. She debated that course as well. Chancellor Turner would know how to find Bran, but she couldn’t trust him. What if he decided to detain her? More than that, she didn’t want anyone to know she was here. The Kalorians and the Songbird were gone, and that was the way she wanted to keep it.
What would Bran do now? Where would she go if she were him? She’d go home. The more she thought about it, the more right it seemed. He could have crossed into Braemar yesterday, but there was a slight chance he would be going today. If she went straight to Braemar, she might catch up with him. She hoped that was the case, because once he made it to Braemar, she had no idea where to look for him.
****
Bran woke, slightly disappointed that he hadn’t dreamed of Teya. That made two nights in a row that she hadn’t troubled his dreams. He didn’t know which was worse. In his dreams, she was real, but waking to find her gone was like losing her all over again.
He swallowed. He didn’t know how to let her go. The only thing that would banish thoughts of her was hard work. That’s why he had volunteered for the Southern Boundary. It was about as far away from the Old Country as he could get, and the climate was hot and dry. Not a place most people wanted to go. But at least in that place, there were no reminders of her.
Rasmussen thought Bran was joking when he first requested it, but agreed willingly enough. Bran’s command of the language made him invaluable. There was always room for another translator willing to help the people in distributing medicine and food, and building schools and homes, along with countless other pr
ojects. The work never seemed to end, which was just what he needed right now.
His train left at noon, but Bran was already packed and ready to go, so he spent the morning prowling through the house. He regretted the fact that he was leaving it empty again. It was a nice place, but he was never home much, and wondered if he should sell it.
The rooms were comfortable, although sparsely furnished, but airy and light with large windows that let in lots of sunshine. When he’d first bought it, he’d imagined raising a family here, but now the only family he could see himself with included Teya, and that would never be.
He ambled through the back courtyard and out into the trees. A soft breeze ruffled his hair, accompanied by the trilling of birds. The woods behind the house were the main reason he’d bought the property. It amazed him to realize that he owned half the forest and part of the mountainside spread out across the area. It was a beautiful place, and deep in his heart, he didn’t want to give it up.
The gurgle of a small stream welcomed him and he stopped, letting the water run through his fingers. The solitude of the glade always brought him comfort before, but now it seemed to weigh him down with memories of another grove.
This time, instead of pushing the memories away, he embraced them, feeling again the wonder of Teya’s song. The song they had sung together in the grove. He remembered the haunting melody that whispered over him in a warm embrace and filled his soul, heightening the awareness of his senses.
With deep concentration, he closed his eyes and sang the notes he could recall, but only got so far before losing the tune. How did it go? He tried again. The first few notes came easily, but he faltered over the next and lost the tune again. His heart began to race.
All at once he knew he had to find that melody. It was all he had left of her, and he didn’t want to lose it because it meant he’d lose her. He couldn’t lose that too. With determination, he tried it again with a stronger voice.
He got even further this time and was on the verge of remembering the entire thing when he lost the direction and floundered. Out of the blue, another voice caught the unfinished melody. A sweet, pure voice that belonged to the one person he thought he would never see again.
Bran jerked shakily to his feet and spun around. There, not more than ten feet away, stood the most beautiful vision he had ever seen. His throat constricted in surprise, and he could scarcely believe his eyes.
“Teya?” Trembling, he closed the distance between them. As he reached for her, she fell into his arms. “It’s really you!”
She smothered him with kisses, and he finally closed his mouth and kissed her back. Deep inside, the black cord of grief cracked open and a shock of awareness flooded his senses. She became a part of him, tied through the bond with a connection that could never be broken. Her love resonated with his, augmenting his own until all he felt was liquid fire.
“Teya.” he pulled away, breathless and nearly out of his mind.
“I’m here to stay,” she answered his unspoken question. “I didn’t go…I’ve been trying to catch up with you ever since the grove was taken. I didn’t know where you were.”
He had no idea. Had she been trying to reach him all this time? “The dreams…that was really you?” She nodded, and a strangled gasp tumbled from his lips. “Of all the... I can’t believe it. You were here all along... Teya…don’t ever leave me again.” He took her in his arms and held her as tight as he dared without hurting her.
“I didn’t,” she mumbled against his chest.
Bran groaned deep in his chest, then smiled crookedly and pulled away to catch her gaze, hardly daring to believe she was here. His voice lowered to a husky whisper. “I love you Teya. If I start kissing you again, I won’t stop.”
“Bran,” she said, breathing his name like a prayer. “It’s all right. I don’t want you to stop. Ever. We belong to each other. Now and forever. I didn’t tell you before, but the bond…it makes us…life-mates. What you call married.”
Bran’s eyes widened and his mouth dropped open. “What?”
“The ceremony in the grove…it’s a joining of heart and soul,” she explained. “I belong to you, and you belong to me. We always will, because of our love.”
He didn’t know what she expected, but she held her breath as if waiting for him to explode with anger. Instead, he began to laugh. A small chuckle at first, then with more abandon until she joined him and laughter rang through the trees. He picked her up off her feet and twirled her around in wild abandon, until they fell in a tangle of arms and legs.
With tender devotion he kissed her again, marveling that such a beautiful creature belonged to him. He had many unanswered questions, but put them aside. All that mattered now was that she was here and they were together.
With nothing held back, their souls met in a torrent of cascading light. The bond sharpened and augmented the feelings of love between them, lifting them to a place beyond understanding.
Bran felt the familiar burning of her power, but this time it enfolded him in a warm embrace, welcoming him in a cataclysmic deluge of light and love. He entrusted her with everything that he was in a mutual sharing of heart and soul. Together, they soared on wings of light, exalting in this holy union of love.
She had chosen him, and in her sweet embrace, he was finally home.
****
Later that day, they planted the seed in a simple ceremony. Teya chose to plant it in the glade where she had found Bran that morning. Already nourished by their union, the glade held a special magic that would cultivate and nurture the seed.
She poured the water she had carried so many miles into the carefully turned well of earth, then placed the seed deep inside this womb of life. For a moment, she caught a glimpse of light that stretched upward into the heavens, connecting mortal to immortal.
With Bran’s help, she covered the seed with dirt, and began to sing the song of Creation. Bran joined her with his beautiful baritone voice, anchoring her lilting tones solidly to the dark earth beneath their fingers. The song resounded through the glade, piercing every living thing to the core.
As the tones faded to a reverent finish, a small beam of light angled through the forest from the heavens, and illuminated the earth over the seed like a benediction.
In this soft glow, the warmth of love arose, and a small green shoot extended above the ground. The light expanded in an ever-widening circle. Where the light touched, the nature of the glade changed, taking on vibrant tones of color in glowing hues.
The light encircled Teya and Bran, suffusing them in a symbolic link to the heavens. When the light dissipated, Teya caught her breath, her heart full of wonder. This new grove sparkled with a light of its own, surrounding and nurturing the young shoot of a Silver Tree.
The song of Creation echoed all around. The earth shook, sending small tremors through the soles of her feet that filtered upward to flow throughout her entire body with an echoing thrum. Next to her, Bran trembled, and they held fast to each other, witnesses as well as participants in this extraordinary event.
It was a new beginning in a new age. This tree was a union of both heaven and earth, much like her and Bran. It didn’t need magic to survive, just air and water. The cycle of life would go on, and with the birth of the Tree, the song of Creation would never end.
Epilogue
The young woman pushed through the undergrowth, searching for the path she had known as a child. It had been much easier to find then, but maybe that was because she was smaller. Today was her twenty-first birthday. The day chosen for her return.
Humming to herself, she let her thoughts drift, and suddenly there it was, stretched out before her like a red carpet. Smiling, she stepped to the path, fused with a rush of anticipation. For years, she had been awaiting this day.
Green ferns and mountain geraniums hung over the edge of the path, straddled by wild roses and dainty columbine. The trees branched overhead in leafy shadows and the breeze carried the scent of dark earth
and pine. It had been raining earlier, but the sun broke through the clouds every now and then, lighting the shadowed way.
The path turned, and as she came around the bend, opened up into a beautiful shining glade. Even though it was a cloudy day, the glade seemed brighter than the rest of the forest. In the clearing at its center, stood the most beautiful tree she had ever seen. Larger than she remembered, it reached upward, towering above her in unequaled majesty.
The thick trunk was smooth and silvery white. Green leaves shimmered with glistening silver sparkles, giving off light that had nothing to do with the sunshine. When the wind shifted, the leaves rustled in faint musical tones, and she caught her breath. She knew that melody. From the edge of her memory she remembered her grandmother singing it to her many times when she was small.
The tree spoke to her in a way she couldn’t express, as if she were linked to it somehow. She reached out and laid her palm against the smooth bark. It was surprisingly warm, and the perfumed scent caught at her senses with a profound feeling of peace. Like she was home.
She remembered the story of how her great-grandparents had planted the seed a long time ago. Teya and Bran. They brought it from another place that was gone, taken from the earth by magic.
The seed had sprouted because of their love, and grown in this beautiful garden to keep watch over them and their posterity. It stood like a sentinel, guarding their love forever. That was the story. When she was young, she used to believe in magic, but that was a childhood fancy. Magic was only something told in tales. It wasn’t real.
Yet, standing here in this grove, she could almost believe in it again. This place was different. The rest of the world may be turning sour with darkness and strife, but here, it was as if life had begun anew. This place held hope.
She sighed, and the tree seemed to shift in response, sending a faint intimation of melody. The musical tones grew and reverberated through her mind, then went deeper into her skin. With a smile and a rash sense of buoyancy, she let the notes trickle off her tongue into the air. The leaves caught the tones of her clear voice and played with them in a counter-melody that sent shivers up her spine.
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