The cave itself was divided down the center by a row of graceful columns, deeply fluted and tapering to their tops. They appeared to be joined solidly into the floor and ceiling.
Anaya let go of his hand and let him wander forward on his own. He went to the source of the gentle white light, the third column in from the water’s edge. A subtle glow and warmth emanated from the column.
Hesitantly Kith-Kanan put out a hand to touch the translucent stone.
He turned to the Kagonesti, smiling. “It feels alive!”
“It is,” she beamed,
The walls to the right of the colonnade were decorated with remarkable bas-reliefs, raised carvings that depicted elven women. There were four of them, life-sized, and between each relief was a carving of a different type of tree.
Anaya stood close beside the prince, and he put an arm around her waist. “What do these mean?” he said, gesturing at the reliefs.
“These were the Keepers of the Forest,” she said proudly “Those that came before me. They lived as I live now, guarding the Wildwood from harm.” Anaya went to the image farthest from the pool. “This was Camirene. She was Keeper of the Forest before me.” Anaya moved to the right, to the next figure. “This was Ulyante.” She slipped sideways to the third figure. “Here is Delarin. She died driving a dragon from the wildwood.” Anaya touched the warm stone relief lightly with her fingertips. Kith-Kanan regarded the carved image with awe.
“And this,” Anaya said, facing the figure nearest the pool, “is Ziatia, first guardian of the wildwood.” She put her hands together and bowed to the image. Kith-Kanan looked from one relief to the next.
“It is a beautiful place,” he said with awe.
“When I am troubled, I come here to rest and think,” Anaya said, gesturing around her.
“Is this where you’ve been these past weeks?” he asked.
“Yes. Here, and in the wildwood. I—I watched you sleep many nights.” She looked deep into his eyes.
Kith-Kanan could hardly take it all in. This beautiful cave, the many answers it provided and the mysteries it held. It was like the beautiful elf woman before him. She had provided him with answers this night, but in her deep eyes were even more mysteries and questions unanswered. For now, he gave himself up to the joy he felt, the joy at finding someone who cared for him, someone that he cared for. And he did care for her.
“I think I love you, Anaya,” Kith-Kanan said tenderly, caressing her cheek.
She laid her head on his chest. “I begged the Forestmaster to send you away, but she would not. ‘You must make the decision’ she said.” She clasped Kith-Kanan with frightening strength.
He tilted her face up to his and bent down to kiss her. Anaya was no soft and timid elf maiden. The hard life of the wildwood had made her tough and strong, but as they kissed, Kith-Kanan could feel the tremors echoing through her body.
She broke the kiss. “I will not be a casual love,” she vowed, and her eyes bored into his. “If we are to be together, you must swear to be mine always.”
Kith-Kanan remembered how he had searched for her in his dreams, how frightened and alone he’d felt when he couldn’t find her. “Yes, Anaya. Always. I wish I still had my starjewel, but Voltorno took it with my other belongings. I wish I could give it to you.” She did not understand, and he explained the significance of the starjewel.
She nodded. “We have no jewels to give in the wildwood. We make our most sacred vows in blood.” She took his hand and knelt by the pool, drawing him down beside her. Laying her palm against the sharp edge of the rock, she pressed down hard. When she pulled her hand back, it was bleeding. Kith-Kanan hesitated a moment, then he too cut his hand on the hard, glassy rock. They joined hands once more, pressing the wounds together. The blood of the Silvanesti House Royal flowed together with that of the forest-born Kagonesti.
Anaya plunged their joined hands into the water. “By blood and water, by soil and sky, by leaf and limb, I swear to love and keep you, Kith, for as long as I walk, for as long as I breathe.”
“By Astarin and E’li, I swear to love and keep you, Anaya, for all my life.” Kith-Kanan felt light-headed, as if a great weight had been taken from him. Perhaps it was the weight of his anger, laid across his shoulders when he’d left Silvanost in a rage.
Anaya drew their hands out of the water, and the cuts were healed. While he marveled at this, she said, “Come.”
Together they moved to the rear of the cave, away from the pool. There, the glassy stone walls ended. In their place was a solid wall of tree roots, great twining masses of them. A sunken place in the floor, oval-shaped, was lined with soft furs.
Slowly, very slowly, she sank into the furs, looking up at him with eyes full of love. Kith-Kanan felt his heart beat faster as he sat beside his love and took her hands into his. Raising them to his lips, he whispered, “I didn’t know.”
“What?”
“I didn’t know that this is what love truly feels like.” He smiled and leaned closer to her. Her breath was warm in his face. “And,” he added gently, “I didn’t know that you were anything but a wild maiden, one who liked to live in the woods.”
“That’s exactly what I am,” said Anaya.
She and Kith-Kanan talked of many things in the night and day they spent in the secret cave. He told her of Hermathya and of Sithas, and he felt his heart lighten as he confessed all. The anger and frustration were gone as if they’d never existed. The youthful passion he’d felt for Hermathya was completely unlike the deep love he now felt for Anaya. He knew there were those in Silvanost who would not understand his love for a Kagonesti. Even his own family would be shocked, he was sure.
But he didn’t dwell on that. He filled his mind with only good thoughts, happy thoughts.
One thing Kith-Kanan insisted upon, and to which Anaya eventually agreed, was that she tell Mackeli of his true origins. When they left the cave and returned to the oak tree, they found the boy sitting on a low branch, eating his evening meal.
When he saw the couple, he jumped from the branch and landed lightly in front of them. He took in their happy faces and the fact that they walked hand-in-hand, and demanded, “Are you two finally friends?”
Anaya and Kith-Kanan looked at each other, and a rare thing happened. Anaya smiled. “We are much more than friends,” she said sweetly.
The three of them sat down with their backs to the broad oak’s trunk. As Anaya told Mackeli the truth about his past, the sun dodged in and out of the clouds and red autumn leaves fell around them.
“I’m not your brother?” Mackeli asked when she had finished.
“You are my brother,” Anaya replied firmly, “but we are not of the same blood.”
“And if I was taken from my parents,” he went on slowly, “who were you taken from, Ny?”
“I don’t know, and I never shall. Camirene took me from my mother and father, just as I took you.” She looked to the ground, embarrassed. “I needed a girl child to be the next Keeper of the Forest. I moved so hastily, I didn’t take time to notice that you were a boy.”
Kith-Kanan put an arm on Mackeli’s shoulder. “You won’t be too angry?”
Mackeli stood up and walked slowly away from them. His ever-present hood slipped down, revealing his white, Silvanesti hair. “It’s all so strange,” he said, confused. “I’ve never known any other life than the one I’ve had in the wildwood.” He looked at Anaya. “I guess I’m not angry. I’m…stunned. I wonder what I would have been if I—if Anaya.”
“A farmer,” said Anaya. “Your parents were farmers. They grew vegetables.”
She went on to explain that once she realized she’d taken a boy-child instead of a girl, she tried to return the infant Mackeli to his parents, but their house was abandoned when she went back. So she had raised Mackeli as her brother.