“Are you stewing, brooding, pondering, or just letting a part of your brain float on the water?” Lee asked, settling on the other end of the bench.
“Anything tries to float on that water is going to get eaten,” Michael replied. “Doesn’t anyone ever feed those fish?”
“Sure. Doesn’t mean they won’t forage for themselves when the opportunity presents itself.” Lee studied him. “Still worried about Caitlin?”
Michael rubbed his hands over his knees. “Kayne seemed a bit too interested in a girl her age.”
“He’s interested,” Lee countered. “He’s also smart enough to know the male who is currently holding Caitlin’s attention is small, brown, and fuzzy.”
He grunted. Not an eloquent response, but better than admitting Lee was right about Andrew the dog being Caitlin’s companion for the foreseeable future. Then he sighed. “My heart aches because someone else is happy. Does that make me a ripe bastard?”
Lee said nothing.
Michael kept his eyes focused on the pond. “I respected my aunt Brighid because she came to help me and Caitlin when we needed her, and I suppose I loved her, but it was a duty love, if you take my meaning.” He glanced over long enough to see Lee nod. “I couldn’t hear the music of her heart. Crashing chords and odd rhythms, but not the melody, not the tone that usually gives me a sense of who a person is.”
“She wasn’t where she belonged,” Lee said quietly. He waited a beat. “What do you hear in her now?”
“A grand song. Something I never would have imagined was in her. Even before I listened for the song, I saw her face when we stepped off your island and she set foot in Sanctuary—and I realized I had never seen her truly happy or at peace with herself and the world around her. That’s a hard thing to swallow since I’m one of the reasons she didn’t have that peace.”
Lee leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. “She wasn’t happy at Lighthaven either, Magician. She knew she needed the Light, but that wasn’t the place for her. And yet she never went up to Darling’s Harbor to walk between the Sentinel Stones. I think that’s one of the differences between your part of the world and mine. You can avoid a resonating bridge and stay where you don’t belong. But it can’t be an easy thing to deny your own heart day after day, year after year. And in the end, you can’t deny it. Ephemera won’t let you.”
“She wouldn’t have abandoned two children.”
Lee nodded. “Having decided to help, she wouldn’t have left you to fend for yourselves—especially while Caitlin was so young. But we’re not talking just about your aunt. That’s the thing about heart wishes. You might have to travel through several landscapes—and spend time in each one, living and learning and changing inside—before you’re ready for the place you truly belong, the place your heart recognizes as ‘home.’ Brighid has found her place. So has Caitlin. What about you? Do you have the courage to cross over to the landscape where you belong?”
Michael turned enough to look at Lee straight on. “And you’re thinking you know where I belong?”
Lee shook his head. “Your heart does.”
He knew where he wanted to belong. Which wasn’t the same thing.
“My father left when I was…” Lee paused. “Well, I was so young I don’t have my own memories of him. My mother didn’t know if he had crossed over a bridge and couldn’t get back to us, or if he didn’t want to come back to us and had crossed over to a landscape where she didn’t belong. It was only a few months ago that we found information that makes us think he was killed because he had learned the wizards who were purebloods weren’t human; that they were really the Dark Guides.”
“It changed things, his leaving,” Michael said, having a clear memory of his father walking down the road, alone, for that last time.
“Yes, it changed things.”
“But your mother’s heart didn’t turn barren of everything but storms and rages.”
“My mother was where she belonged, in a house that had been in her family for generations. And my mother has always known the nature of her gift and the way of the world. She wouldn’t have stayed in a place where she didn’t belong.”
“Well, my mother didn’t stay either,” Michael said, hearing the bitterness in his voice. “Of course, where she thought she would end up by walking into the sea is anyone’s guess. Where she did end up was a pauper’s grave.” And it hurt. All these years later, it still hurt. “She didn’t love us enough to stay.”
Before Lee could reply, Michael stood up, signaling the end of talk.
Lee rose as well. “Shall we join the ladies?”
“Lucky timing on your mother’s part to be visiting Sanctuary today,” Michael said as they headed for the guesthouse.
“Luck has nothing to do with it,” Lee replied, smiling. “My mother’s sense of timing is uncanny—especially if you’re a young boy doing something you shouldn’t be doing.”
“Ah.” Michael hesitated, then decided this was good timing too. “Speaking of ladies, I noticed your sister has been absent from the tour of Sanctuary.”
“Something needed tending. She’ll be back soon.”
Where? Although unspoken, they both knew the question had been asked—and not answered. Still an outsider, Michael thought. And maybe I deserve to be.
As they approached Brighid and Nadia, he tucked that thought away in the far corner of his heart, hoping no one would be able to find it. Including himself.
“You shouldn’t be poking around there,” a male voice said. “The place isn’t safe.”
Glorianna turned and studied the man standing a few strides behind her. About Lee’s age, maybe a little older. Pleasant face. Old eyes that narrowed now that he had a clear look at her.
“You came with Caitlin Marie to look at her garden,” he said. He wasn’t standing in the right place to see it, but he looked toward the meadow. “That strange, rust-colored sand disappeared after you were here.” His eyes widened. “You’re a sor—”
“Landscaper.” She put enough emphasis on the word to silence him. “And a Guide of the Heart. Be careful of your words. They have more meaning than you realize.”
He hesitated, then moved closer. “I’m Nathan.”
Glorianna tipped her head. “You’re the anchor.” He frowned at her, but she smiled because there was a shimmer of recognition in his eyes. The word itself meant nothing to him the way she was using it, but the meaning did. “You remember what Raven’s Hill used to be.”
“I’m not that old,” he grumbled. But he also nodded. “My grandfather used to tell me stories. It was a good village, and a fairly prosperous one when the quarry was open. Fishing was better in those years. There was more game in the hills. And people were kinder.”
They can be again. “It wasn’t their fault,” she said gently. “Michael, Caitlin, and Brighid.”
“Of course it wasn’t their fault,” Nathan snapped. The snap was automatic—a habit established long ago—but underneath there was uneasiness and doubt. “A young girl can’t turn a fountain foul beyond any hope of cleaning or ruin a vegetable garden just by looking at it. A boy can’t bring someone good luck or bad just by wanting something to happen to someone. That’s all a load of—”
“Truth.” She watched his mouth fall open, then waited for him to regain his mental balance. He’d known it was true—had known Caitlin and Michael were capable of such things, but he hadn’t expected anyone to acknowledge what they could do without condemning them for it. “In many ways, it was unknowingly done, unwittingly done, and the legacy of unhappiness was inherited along with this house. But Caitlin is a Landscaper who can alter the world to some extent, and since the village was already predisposed to brand her a sorceress, they helped shape her and, in return, she helped shape the world they had to live in. But even she couldn’t influence Ephemera beyond a certain point. Because you were here.”