Jonmarc and Carina had already made their offerings to the Lady at sunset in Dark Haven's chapel. Now all that remained was the ceremony. Like most things in Dark Haven, the ritual differed here from what they had seen in Margolan or elsewhere, following more ancient sacred ways.
"It's time." Gabriel said solemnly, and leaned forward to open the doors. A crowd awaited, and voices buzzed as the guests turned to watch them enter. Jonmarc took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. He flashed an impudent grin at Carina before sobering and taking his place beside her as they walked to where Taru stood. Taru wore the brown robes that marked her as one of the Sisterhood mages. In her right hand, she held an oak staff, and she wore a stole of evergreen twigs plaited with strips of oak bark. Together, the icons of immortality and ancient magic were powerful symbols. At Taru's feet was a circle of braided cloth, and in its center, a mat of oak leaves. The mage had requested that Jonmarc and Carina each give her a garment they had recently worn to make the strips that became the braid, making the magic highly personal. Jonmarc had no magic of his own, but he felt a shiver go down his spine as he and Carina stepped into the circle and knelt facing each other.
Chanting in a language Jonmarc did not recognize, Taru struck her staff on the floor behind him, and then turned it in her hands to strike the floor behind Carina with the opposite end. Jonmarc felt a sudden wind sweep along the ground, and by the way Carina's eyes widened, he suspected that her magic gave her the power to see something more dramatic. Turning the staff as she chanted, Taru marked four corners of the warding, one for each of the Light Aspects. When she had returned to her original position, she laid the staff aside and lifted an oaken chalice adorned with a band of silver that wound from the lip to the base. She filled the chalice with red wine, and lifted it to the four corners. "Blessed be the elements. Wine from the soil." She swirled the cup, and a flame flickered over the chalice. "Fire from the sun." Drops of water fell from her cupped palm into the chalice. "Waters of the oceans." The air over the cup stirred, descending into the wine to form a vortex. "Winds of the sky."
"Do you consent to be bound in life, in death and in the dark places between life and death,
joined in body and soul?"
Jonmarc's gaze locked with Carina's. "We do."
Taru took Jonmarc's left hand, turning it palm up. She withdrew a dagger with a moonstone hilt and an obsidian blade from her belt. In one smooth motion, she opened a thin cut to form half of the Lady's symbol on Jonmarc's palm, and flicked droplets of the blood into the chalice. She took Carina's hand and made a cut in the shape of the symbol's matching half, adding her blood to the chalice. Then she pressed their hands together so that their blood combined to form the Lady's mark, and took the mantle from around her neck, wrapping it four times around their wrists. "Drink."
Jonmarc had spent enough time around mages to recognize the tingle of strong magic. He felt it sear through the joined blood between their palms, even as he felt Carina's presence slip against his mind. She smiled at the secret they shared, that she was a few days pregnant with his child. Then he felt the familiar burn of her magic healing the cut Taru had made, and Carina laced her fingers between his.
"Rejoice," Taru said. "You are joined in the law of the kingdoms and in the presence of the Lady, in life and in death-and beyond." She removed the stole from their wrists, and when they released their clasped hands, the cuts had healed into thin, white scars. Behind them, the crowd began to clap and cheer as Jonmarc and Carina rose to their feet. Jonmarc took Carina in his arms and kissed her. The ritual bond heightened his awareness of her, and it felt as if her thoughts and emotions flitted just beyond his grasp. He could only imagine the strength of the bond for those who shared magic as well as love. "Congratulations." Gabriel handed Jonmarc his shirt as well as his swordbelt and weapons, which Jonmarc accepted with a sense of relief. "May the Lady in all Her Aspects bless you now and always."
The guests crowded around them to wish them well. Riqua and Rafe were present, as were Kolin and Tamaq. Vigulf, the vyrkin shaman, added his blessing. Laisren stood arm in arm with Lisette, looking none the worse for the injuries he had sustained in the battle against Malesh. Jonmarc felt the absence of Yestin and Eiria keenly, and although the days of mourning were completed, he knew it would take a long while for the feeling of loss to lessen. Near the wall, Raen swayed to the music with her eyes closed, singing silently. From the cold spots in the room and the inexplicable drafts of air, Jonmarc was certain Raen was not the only one of Dark Haven's ghosts that was present, although she alone was visible. The head of the wine guild and the other town dignitaries were present, along with the vayash moru and vyrkin who had fought alongside
Jonmarc and Gabriel. Even Jonmarc's old friends Maynard Linton and Jolie had managed to arrive in Dark Haven for the wedding. But as Jonmarc moved among his guests, more than once he heard the others whisper an unfamiliar word, and he turned finally to Gabriel. "Who are the 'mogorifi'?"
Gabriel looked at him. "You and Carina. It's an old word. It means 'the changed ones.' There are legends about a few who stand between the living and the undead, who are both and neither. In the legends, the mogorifi are guardians." He gave a pointed glance at the puncture scars on Jonmarc's neck. "You returned alive from making Istra's Bargain. Carina returned as a mortal from Malesh's attempt to turn her. Either one would be rare, to say the least. For the two of you together," he shrugged, "it's not unreasonable to view it as highly significant."
The implications of Gabriel's comments were more than Jonmarc wanted to think about. "Oh, and just so you know," Gabriel continued, "the only ones who aren't aware that Carina is expecting are the mortals. The vayash moru and vyrkin can sense a shift in the life force like that." He smiled. "Congratulations, to both of you."
Jonmarc slipped his arm around Carina's shoulders as musicians began a round of lively tunes and drew her out on the dance floor for the circle dances, enjoying her laughter as they wove through the complicated steps. As the dance concluded, a hush fell over the room. Jonmarc turned to see an unfamiliar vayash moru in the doorway. He tensed, unsure whether the newcomer was friend or foe.
"That's Alfarr," Gabriel said in a low voice just behind him. "He's the keeper of the torches in the Lady's chapel beneath the manor house. He's kept them lit for hundreds of years, but he rarely ventures out. This is highly unusual."
Had Alfarr been mortal, Jonmarc would have supposed him in his middle years, with dark black hair edged with gray at the temples. He moved with a dignified confidence, and something in his eyes hinted at a burden long carried. Alfarr stopped in front of Jonmarc and Carina and made a low bow.
"Peace and blessings to you both." His voice had an unusual accent, one Jonmarc could not place. Alfarr met Carina's eyes. "Now I can rest, because my vision has come true. Twin daughters will each bear a son. One will wear a crown, and the other will wield a sword, and together they will challenge the abyss." Carina's eyes widened. "Twins," she whispered.