Their absorption was broken abruptly by a cry from Iriana. ‘Melik! Oh, my Melik.’ As she ran forward, the cat struggled out of Aelwen’s unresisting arms and was scooped up into the Wizard’s familiar, safe embrace. Though tears ran in profusion down Iriana’s cheeks, her face was radiant with happiness. ‘I thought you were dead,’ she sobbed as she stroked the soft fur. ‘I thought I had lost you too.’
Iriana’s reunion with her cherished companion broke the enthralment that had held the other two. Even as Aelwen slid down from her horse, her beloved ran forward with a choking cry. Then they were in each other’s arms, and to Taine, it was as if all those years of loneliness, of yearning, of not belonging, had never been.
‘Oh, my love—’
‘I thought I would never see you again—’
‘I can’t believe it’s true—’ They were both talking at once, their words tangling with kisses.
The Cailleach stood to one side and smiled. The joys of bringing such happiness far transcended Uriel’s threats and warnings - whatever the cost to herself.
Kelon walked along in a daze of weariness and unreality that had come in the wake of his fight with Ferimon. In one way he regretted parting from Danel and her outlaws. Now that he was on his own once more, he was very lonely without them. But he could not desert Aelwen, though how he could ever hope to find her in this vast tract of wilderness, he did not know. The glowing sphere floated on ahead of him, tantalisingly out of reach, luring him towards some unimaginable fate.
Hunger gnawed at him and fatigue dragged at his bones. He was finding it increasingly difficult to keep his eyes open, so when he heard the sound of voices, he wondered if he was dreaming. He followed the globe forward to where the undergrowth thinned - and walked into a nightmare. A clearing, a lake, light and horses. A young woman embracing a cat, an old woman looking on with a benign expression: all of these details were noted and forgotten in an eyeblink. He only had eyes for the couple embracing in the centre of the clearing.
Aelwen had found her lost love - and all Kelon’s dreams and hopes crashed down in ruin.
The sight of them together seared into his mind like poison. Oh, she had never been his; had never given him any encouragement but good, honest friendship. He had always known where he stood. And yet . . . How could he be blamed for yearning, for wanting, for hungering? So he had persuaded himself that given time, he must succeed with her. Taine had been gone for years - how much longer would she continue to wait for a lover who clearly would never return? Chances were that the wretch was dead. He was almost certainly dead. So Kelon had told himself over and over until, eventually, he had come to believe it.
The truth almost brought him to his knees.
There had never been anyone else for him - and for Aelwen, there had never been anyone but Taine. He was a fool. He should have known better. A crimson mist of anger boiled up from some dark place inside him - though he knew not whether he was more angry with Aelwen for not loving him, or with himself for his folly in loving a woman who would never return his love. Alil, sensing his mood as horses were wont to do, squealed out a strident challenge to the unknown black warhorse in the clearing. Aelwen tore her eyes from Taine’s face, and saw Kelon.
He had been watching her for so many years now that he recognised every emotion that chased across those expressive lips and wide, green eyes. Surprise; delight at seeing him safe; dismay that he should have the joy of their reunion tarnished. But the pity was by far the worst - and in that instant, Kelon knew he could not stay, could not bear to watch them happy together, hour after hour, day after day. Every time he looked at Aelwen, worked with her, spoke with her, it would be plain that she felt sorry for him. Even their friendship could no longer exist now, for with the sudden appearance of Taine, everything had changed.
Better to go, and keep his pride. It was all he had left.
Aelwen, who had recovered her equilibrium, hastened towards him, her hand outstretched. ‘Kelon, thank providence you’re safe. It’s good to see you, my friend.’
‘I can no longer be just your friend.’ Coldly, Kelon knocked the proffered hand away.
Hurt and anger flashed in her eyes, tightened her mouth. ‘I never led you to believe you could be otherwise.’
Despite all his rancour, how could he deny it? And seeing her standing there, her eyes stormy with distress, how could he hate her? ‘I know.’ He sighed. ‘I know. You can’t help who you love, any more than I can.’ Then he glanced across at Taine, who was watching the exchange, wary and alert as some forest animal whose mate is threatened. Kelon had no trouble hating him.
His mouth thinned to a bitter line as the future seemed to unroll before him: sooner or later there would be words exchanged between himself and Taine, then blows - there was a chance that one of them would die. And he still would not have Aelwen’s heart.
‘I can’t stay.’ The words were out of his mouth almost before he realised what he was saying.
‘Here.’ He thrust the leading rein of the packhorse into her hands, then, not without a dreadful pang, he gave her Alil’s reins. ‘I can’t take them with me. The ferals eat horses. You’re better able to protect them. You seem to have found yourself among friends.’ He could not keep the sneer out of his voice. ‘I’ll take the provisions, if that’s all right. I’m sure these folk have more.’
A frown darkened Aelwen’s face, and her eyes grew hard as flint. ‘Curse it, Kelon, don’t be stupid. I don’t care if you’re angry, or upset, or disappointed, you can’t go marching off alone into the wildwood. You’ll die.’ She gripped his shoulders. ‘There’ll be someone else in time. Someone who’s meant for you. But that can’t happen if you get yourself killed.’
He twisted out of her grasp. ‘There was never anyone else for you.’
‘Kelon, stay, please,’ Aelwen begged. ‘It’s too risky out there. What about the Phaerie?’
‘I don’t have to worry about Ferimon at least.’ He shrugged. ‘I killed him.’
‘What? Kelon, wait.’
But he turned and walked away, grateful when the trees swallowed him in their shadows and hid her from sight.
Sorrowing, Kelon walked, neither knowing nor caring where he went. Climbing the steep bank, he came to the trail and crossed it, heading north-west. With his eyes fixed on the ground, he walked in a black haze of loneliness, misery and self-pity, his thoughts whirling with images of Aelwen in Taine’s arms; the incandescent joy on their faces; the aura of absolute unity that surrounded them. And himself, standing on the sidelines, alone and ignored.
‘Watch where you’re going!’ Kelon jumped, his heart hammering, and heard the sound of a soft female laugh. There in front of him was Danel, the leader of the ferals.
Kelon swore, his temper snapping. Her laughter was one humiliation too many, and he rounded on her savagely. ‘What the bloody blazes do you think you’re doing?’
She shrugged. ‘When you left, I thought I would stalk you in case that spell you were following got you killed.’
‘Then you could loot my gear and take the horses after all.’
She shrugged. ‘Well, you wouldn’t have been using them.’
He looked at her coldly. ‘I’m sorry my survival has proved such a disappointment.’
‘We gamble on our survival every day.’ Danel threw up her hands in exasperation. ‘Will we find food? Will the shelters hold up to the weather? Can we stay warm enough and keep our bellies full enough to live to see another sunrise? Or will the Hunt come in the night and lay waste to everything we’ve become?’ Her voice sharpened with a harsh edge of bitterness. ‘We do what we must - and sometimes that’s not enough.’
For a moment the jaunty courage left her stance, and she looked weary and beaten and sad. For the first time, Kelon looked at her closely and realised how thin she was: how pale, hollow-cheeked and pinched with the cold. The ragged clothes she was wearing must offer little protection from the elements. In that instant, his heart went out to her. She seemed so young for her responsibilities. She put his own troubles in perspective, he realised. Shame flooded over him as he contrasted her courage in the face of such appalling difficulties with his own self-pity over nothing more than a broken heart. The Phaerie viewed ferals as nothing but vermin, a dangerous nuisance to be exterminated wherever possible. He had never truly understood that they were people too, with the same feelings and physical needs as their masters.