“Oh, thank you! I’m sure they will cause some stares 270
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in Samhayne, since they are not at all the current mortal fashion, but they are the most beautiful things I have ever worn.”
Gunnar settled his horse and joined them at the fire, asking about their journey. Each of them told him a portion of it, and he laughed heartily when he heard about Darion doing dishes at the farmstead. They spent the rest of the evening talking nonchalantly about everything, except the test Gwynn would shortly face, by mutual consent, putting it out of their minds. Later, Darion and Gunnar volunteered to keep watch through the night, since they were camped so close to the road, Darion saying that they were better suited to sense the approach of anyone unfamiliar in time to disguise themselves. Shae agreed, realizing that no matter what his personal feelings were about the practice of magic, their keen senses would allow them to know if anyone was coming close sooner than he would. He slept soundly, if a little wryly, at the idea of two Pathani watching over him and his charge.
The next day went much the same until Gwynn stopped abruptly in the early afternoon and began to study the area around her. In front of them was a ford across a broad, shallow stream, and on the other side, a grove of willow trees grew against a rocky overhanging cliff, their roots reaching down to the water. “This is where my father camped. He could tell there was a storm coming, and he thought it would make good shelter.” After fording the stream, she dismounted and walked to the base of the cliff.
“He made a fire here, had dinner, and was playing a song he had written for Asheri. Aere likes to roam during storms; she heard his song and came to get him.” Now that she had found the place where her father had been taken, Gwynn was not so sure about her course of action. There were more questions presenting themselves to her with every breath she 271
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took. Seeing her uncertainty, Shae asked the Pathani to look after the horses before he took Gwynn’s hand and led her to the edge of the stream. “What is it, little one? Something is bothering you; talk to me.”
“I know what I need to do, and I know exactly how to do it, but…” her voice trailed off.
“But?” Shae prodded.
“There are other things that worry me, things I have thought about since we left Heralith; I keep remembering what Elisan said about my actions having effects I could not foresee on the lives of others. I said then I didn’t care if my father got to live his own life, but it’s not true. I am afraid of what effect this will have on us.” Gwynn dropped his hand and wrapped both arms around his waist. Her expression was so haunted; the only choice he had was to hold her in return. “What if having my father back means I wasn’t on the road to Rathgarven that night? What if Talon didn’t find me, because I wasn’t there to find? You might have died, and I wouldn’t have you now. That terrifies me. I can barely bring myself to consider it. I’m selfish. I want my father back, but I want you with me, too.”
“I’m glad you are a little selfish, but I think you are letting Elisan’s words bother you too much. If I’m standing right next to you, how can I be anywhere else but with you?
Everything will be fine. Do what you need to do. Tell me how I can help or what you need from me.”
Gwynn rested her forehead against Shae’s chest, taking comfort in his solid presence and his faith in her. “Just tell me everything will be all right, and I will believe you,”
she begged. “My best friend wouldn’t lie to me, right?”
“Never! I know you can restore your father to his stolen life. I believe it, and so must you.”
“Thank you,” she whispered. “Let me think about 272
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how things should be and listen to the songs here for a bit before I begin.”
“Do you want to be alone, or would you like me to stay with you?”
“Alone, I think,” Gwynn sighed, stepping regretfully out of the protective circle of Shae’s arms. “I should probably put everything out of my mind, except my goals for my father, and it will be easier that way.”
“As you wish.” Shae squeezed her shoulders in encouragement and slipped away while she stared off into the distance, striving to organize her thoughts.
When Gwynn returned to her friends and father a short time later, there was no hesitation or anxiety in her expression. She took her father’s arm and seated him near the cliff where Gryffyn’s memory told her his fire had been.
“We should all be out of sight; I don’t want him to sense what I am doing once he becomes aware of things again.
Although, I don’t know if I should just bring him to himself and then push things forward to the next morning, or if we should just watch over him through the night.”
“I think it would be better for someone to keep him company through the night and prevent him from playing the song that attracted the Aeldive’s attention,” Darion suggested. “I can do that easily enough and simply seem to be another traveler also seeking a dry spot and a fire.” His handsome features flickered and dissolved into those of a weathered, middle-aged mortal, and Freesa became a very ordinary horse.
Gwynn led her companions a short distance away, so the willows screened them and the horses from Gryffyn. She seated herself on a rock and tuned her Harp, looking at the faces regarding her. “I don’t know how this is going to feel to everyone. I’m sorry. I have never tried something like this.”
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“We will all be fine,” Shae reassured her once more.
“Do what you must.”
She took a deep breath, letting the songs in the grove wash through her. At first, Gwynn simply echoed what was around her, the late afternoon of high summer in the Merton Hills. Then she began to work backwards, playing the songs of mid-day and then of morning. To those watching and listening to her, it began slowly, the sun impossibly creeping backwards toward the east. When Gwynn mastered the repetitions required, the pace of the music grew more rapid, and before long, day and night began to follow upon themselves more rapidly than swallows in flight. Impressions of wind, rain, sun, heat, and cold began to be felt by those in the grove of willows, but it all passed too quickly to suffer any true effect. Finally, Gwynn’s fingers grew still upon the strings.
It was evening, with an unsettled spring wind smelling of rain and the odor of wood smoke filling the grove. She commanded their silence with a look and crept forward a few yards through the trees. Seated next to a crackling fire was Gryffyn, but a different Gryffyn; he was playing a sprightly tune on his harp while he watched a pot over the fire, his eyes sparkling with the music, and a chestnut mare was dozing complacently a few yards off.
“You did it,” Shae breathed in her ear. “He looks well.” Gwynn nodded vigorously in agreement, not wanting to take her eyes from her father. There was the man she remembered, full of life and spirit. She could have remained frozen forever, just reveling in the sight of him.
Darion touched her lightly on the shoulder, holding up a rabbit. “This should be enough to get me an invitation to the fire,” he whispered. He faded away to the north and, a few moments later, called to Gryffyn while not yet to the 274
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edge of the firelight, his voice mimicking the broad Middlelands accent. “Good evening traveler! Would you share your fire and ledge against the rain coming? I have a rabbit that I will share for supper.”
“Of course,” Gryffyn called back, rising to his feet.
Gwynn shivered with delight at hearing the rich timbre of his voice. “Please, be welcome. I was just starting to despise the idea of being huddled here alone against a storm; these things go better with company.” He offered his hand to Darion saying, “I’m Gryffyn ap Daffyd of Inishmore.”
“A bard? Well met, indeed, sir. I’m Polis, son of Keelin.” Gwynn grinned at Darion’s use of their previous host’s name. He took off Freesa’s tack and fashioned a spit for his rabbit while asking where Gryffyn was bound
.
Gryffyn told him that he was bound for Inishmore to bring his daughter back to live with him in Samhayne. “That’s a long trip. I have only been to Samhayne once in my life; a huge noisy place it was, too,” he said ingenuously, and Gwynn got the feeling that Darion very much enjoyed his masquerades. “I like the quiet of hunting in the hills much better than places full of people.”
Shae must have thought the same, because he whispered to her, “I have the feeling he has played with unsuspecting mortals before.”
“And if not Darion, how many other Pathani might have done the same?”
He shuddered. “I refuse to think about it!”
Darion’s ruse seemed to be well thought out, however, because when Gryffyn began to play his harp after they had eaten, the tunes he played had nothing to do with his feelings for Asheri. She also noticed that woven in and out of his songs were subtle requests to the wind, asking it to push the rain around them. Her heart warmed, since she realized he was doing it for the sake of his new companion’s 275
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comfort, rather than his own. Gryffyn was not a man, who would have asked a storm to go around him, but he was a man who would redirect it, rather than have it fall on the head of some poor hunter, who had ranged far from home.
Gwynn was grateful too, because that meant that none of them would suffer a sodden night watching over her father.
The night remained windy and chill, but no rain found them. After Gryffyn had banked the fire and bade “Polis”
good night, Shae drew on his cote, and took Gwynn’s cloak to her, wrapping it around her shoulders. “It’s not summer here now,” he said quietly, “you need to stay warm. I would be happier if you would lie down and get some rest. I can awaken you early in the morning.”
“No. I feel better watching over him.”
“Well then, let’s at least be more comfortable.” Shae brought their bedrolls, unrolled them, and folded them in half, making a cushion. “There is no reason to sit on the rocks all night. You should eat something, too,” he directed, putting some cheese and bread on the blankets between them. Gwynn cat-napped against Shae’s shoulder during the night, but never for long, since she kept waking up to make sure her father was still where he should be. When the sky in the east grew pale, she began to accept she had succeeded and that he was free.
Once it was full light, Darion saddled Freesa, making just enough noise at the end to awaken Gryffyn. “Thank you for your hospitality,” he said softly. “It was an unexpected treat. Safe travels, Gryffyn.”
“You too, Polis,” Gryffyn said through a yawn, watching his guest mount and splash through the stream, heading south.
Darion, having shed his glamour, rejoined his friends shortly, after doubling back once out of Gryffyn’s sight.
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“That went well,” he said, stealing up next to Gwynn and taking a seat while she watched her father break his fast before breaking his camp.
“Oh yes,” she agreed. Gryffyn rode off to the northwest, his daughter following him to the edge of the willows, looking after him until he was lost to view, her eyes radiant with joy. Then she returned to her friends and shed her cloak before picking up her Harp. “I suppose it is time for us to go back where we belong, as well.”
When Gwynn began to play, the process seemed the same to her friends, only this time, the sun sank appropriately in the west. If anything, it went faster, the passage of time seeming to become a continuous blur of color and sound. Things settled back to their proper place, a late summer afternoon, with the waves of heat rising from the road where it passed out from under the shade of the trees. “Oh, well done, Gwynn,” Darion said. “I cannot wait to describe your success to Elisan.”
Gwynn didn’t answer, and Shae realized she was shaking violently. He reached for her while the color drained from her face, and her legs went out from under her. He caught her when she collapsed and eased her to the ground while Darion snatched the Harp tumbling from her hands.
Gwynn’s eyes were open, but they were focused on something much further away than her friend. “Little one, please, answer me,” Shae beseeched. Darion knelt beside them, and Shae exchanged an anxious look with him, wondering if Gwynn releasing Gryffyn from the Aeldive’s spell had caused it to rebound on herself. “What do you think is wrong?”
“I do not know.” The anxiety in Darion’s voice matched Shae’s, and he laid a hand on Gwynn’s cheek.
“Forgive me, but I must know where you are.”
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Shae hated the idea that Darion was prying into his friend’s thoughts, but he realized with a sinking heart it was probably the only hope they had of knowing what had happened. “What did you learn?” he asked tightly when Darion removed his hand from Gwynn’s cheek. “Is she well?” “I believe so, physically at least,” Darion’s voice was hesitant, “but her mind is very confused right now. By setting her father back on his intended path, many things changed for her too. She now remembers a life that she has never lived, but the old memories are also there, and they are at war with the new ones. It seems trying to reconcile them to each other has taken her awareness of everything else.”
Darion’s words struck Shae like a punch to his gut.
“Do—do you think she will stay like this?”
“I know that this must be very hard for her to understand, but Gwynn has a strong will. We must have faith that she will find her way back.”
“Faith? Is that all you can offer?” The frustration in Shae’s voice rumbled through the willows like distant thunder.
“It is all any of us can offer.”
Shae groaned and gathered Gwynn into his arms, his words urgent, but quiet, meant only for her. “Little one, what have you done? Always thinking of others and never considering the cost you will bear. I promised you all would be well. Don’t you dare make me a liar. I can’t endure that.
You must find your way back to me; I won’t survive losing a charge a second time to something I cannot fight.” So great was Shae’s fear for Gwynn and his own despair that he failed to notice how long he held her, that it grew dark, or that Gunnar started a fire. The only thing he knew was that she was somewhere he could not reach, in a place too far away for him to help her. It took him a moment to realize Darion 278
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was speaking his name.
“Shae, please, let me make her comfortable near the fire.”
“No!” he roared, surging to his feet with Gwynn still in his arms, his anguish and wrath pouring out in a torrent of furious words. “Don’t touch her! Haven’t you done enough to her already? If you cared for her as much as you say, you would have left her alone to live her life like the rest of us mortals. Instead, you found it more amusing to toy with her whenever it suited you! I wish you had never—”
Shae stopped himself, knowing that recriminations would do nothing for Gwynn, but the soul-searing fact that none of this would have happened if Darion had not found them in the rel ar and insisted that they come to Heralith was gnawing ravenously at him.
“I know.” The pained expression on Darion’s face reminded him of the ease with which the Pathani could hear another’s thoughts. “You can place no more blame on me than I have already put on myself.”
“I’m sorry,” Shae sighed wretchedly, following him and sinking down next to the fire with his slight burden. He knew Darion felt like he did, but it did not restore her to either one of them. “Gwynn had to learn things about her Harp, and you had no power over what we saw that day in the forest. I am angry at the situation, not you. Besides,” he added with a miserable attempt at a smile, “neither one of us will ever be able to deny her anything she desires; will we?”
“No, I think not. Gwynn is wound too tightly around our hearts for us to contemplate that.” Darion’s expression was wistful while he stroked Gwynn’s hair.
Shae always believed the night of Rashelle’s deat
h to be the longest night of his life, but he suddenly realized, no matter the eventual outcome, it would be this one that haunted his dreams. Returning to the embittered, nearly 279
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broken man he had been before Gwynn saved him seemed inevitable if she didn’t recover, but Shae had come to hate the lost, grieving soul he had been for so long. That will not be the ways of things, he told himself fiercely. If she cannot find her way back, I will watch over her until she is gone and then be done with it. There was no dishonor in following her into the Shadowlands, as I have already sworn my life for hers. So be it, Gwynn ferch Gryffyn, Shae pledged silently; in life and in death, I shall always be at your side.
Once in the depths of the night, Gunnar and Darion tried to convince him to put Gwynn onto her bedroll, but Shae refused. Finally, when the eastern horizon began to brighten, Gwynn gave a deep sigh and lifted her head. Her gray eyes were hazy in the pale light while they slowly found Shae’s, but they were looking at him with recognition. “Little one,” Shae breathed, hardly daring to hope, “have you come back to me?”
“I think so,” she whispered hoarsely, “was I gone long?”
“Far too long for me to like. It is a little before sunrise, and it was yesterday afternoon that you brought us back to our own time. Much longer and I might have offered up a prayer to your Lady, something you should never make me do. I don’t like having to appeal to anyone for help.” His voice was a mixture of relief and reproach.
Gwynn managed a feeble grin when Shae helped her sit up. “I’m sorry. I’ll try never to do that to you again; I promise,” she murmured, nestling her head in the hollow of his shoulder. She looked at Darion and Gunnar across the fire. “I didn’t mean to make anyone worry; I was…very far away.”
“Darion told me you were remembering new things while the memories of what you had already lived were confusing you, and it took you someplace we couldn’t 280
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