I wanted to shove them both in the pond I’d seen a hint of as we stopped in front of the house.
“You made it, I see,” Kostya said somewhat sourly, his gaze flickering between Drake — who I had learned that morning was his brother — and me.
“Shall we go inside?” Gabriel asked, taking May’s hand and leading her up the stairs.
I sent one last poignant glance toward the flower garden, my heart crying at the thought of it in the hands of Cyrene. “It wants someone who understands it, someone who will love it and nurture it,” I murmured as I slowly climbed the five stairs to the door.
“You OK, Sullivan?” Brom asked, waiting for me at the top. “You look kind of funny.” I smiled and gave his shoulder a squeeze as we entered the door. “I just really like this pl—” The world went black the second my foot crossed the threshold. I heard voices exclaiming, and someone calling my name, but it seemed to come from a long distance away. I turned away from the blackness, moving back out into the sunshine.
Another vision, I thought to myself as I went to the garden without consciously making the decision to do so. I hope this one doesn’t last too long. I’d like to see the garden for real before we have to leave.
As I reached the area where the garden had been, I realized that something was different this time. For one, the flowers and shrubs seemed to shimmer in and out of focus, and nothing like that had happened in the previous visions or dreams. For another, two people stood in the center of a tangle of greenery. As I moved past a young willow tree, I caught sight of a third person standing to my left, a dark shadow unmoving against a tree. A gardener or workman of some sort, I thought, and dismissed him as I turned back to the couple.
It was me… or rather, it looked like me, and I realized with a shock that it was the me of the visions, the person whose experiences I had felt and lived. She was smiling up at a man whose back was to me, but I could tell by the love shining in her eyes that it was Baltic.
I moved around to the other side of the willow, wanting to hear what they said, but not wishing to disturb the vision.
“That’s too many,” Baltic said, frowning at the me-Ysolde. She poked him in the arm, and his frown melted into a smile. “You’ll leave me no room for the house. We’ll have nothing but garden.” I looked behind me. The house was there, but like the flowers and shrubs of the garden, it seemed to shimmer and fade in and out of view.
I was seeing a memory of the land as it was before the house and gardens had been built.
“And here, Madonna lilies and pinks, heartsease and leopard’s-bane. Campion over there, against the wall, and daffodils and violets down by the pond. On that side, we’ll have beds of wallflowers and lavender, marjoram and roses, great long beds of roses of every hue. And we’ll have an orchard, Baltic, with apple trees, pears, plums, and cherries, and on the long summer days, we will sit beneath one and I will love you until you fall asleep in my arms. We will be happy here. At least…” A shadow fell over her face. She looked into the distance for a few seconds.
“Chérie, do not do this to yourself.” “I can’t help it. What if it was true, Baltic? What if I was his mate?” “Constantine wanted you as all males want you,” Baltic said, taking her loosely in his arms. “But you were not meant to be his mate.” “How do you know?” She looked troubled, and I understood the worry and guilt she felt at causing pain in another.
“I just know. If you were to die, I would cease living. That tells me you are my true mate, and no one else’s.” “But you don’t know—” “I know,” he said, catching up her hands and kissing her fingers.
She hesitated, and Baltic smiled and brushed a strand of hair off her face before pulling her past me, toward the place where the house now stood. “Enough of these dismal thoughts. I have something that will please you. I have designed the house. If you approve of it, it will be done by Michaelmas.” “I will get started on the gardens right away,” she answered, smiling up at him again. My throat ached at the joy in her face, at the love that shone so brightly in her eyes. “And there I will pledge my fealty to you, surrounded by the sweet-smelling flowers.” He growled something in her ear I couldn’t hear, and she ran off ahead of him, laughing, her long hair fluttering in the wind as he chased her out of my sight.
I held on to the tree for a moment, my fingers clutching painfully at the bark, possessed with a sorrow so great it seemed to leach up out of the ground.
A noise caused me to look up, and I noticed the third figure as he took a step away from the tree against which he’d been leaning. He dropped suddenly to his knees, his head bowed, his shoulders shaking as if he’d given in to the most devastating anguish, the grief that racked his body so profound, waves of suffering rolled off him, choking me with his despair and hopelessness. Mindlessly I stepped forward, driven to comfort him by the bond of one living being to another, even knowing as I did that this shadow figure was beyond my reach.
Gravel crunched beneath my foot and the figure looked up, getting clumsily to his feet. He stepped out of the shadows of the trees and my breath caught in my throat, my heart pounding so loudly I thought it would burst out of my chest.
“Ysolde?” His voice was ragged and raw, as if he’d swallowed acid. He stared at me in stark, utter disbelief.
“You’re… Baltic?” I asked.
My voice seemed to bring him from his stupor. He took a step toward me, stumbling, his head shaking all the while his eyes were searching me, searching my face, trying to tell if I was real or not. “It cannot be.” “I saw you in the park. You are Baltic, aren’t you?” “You… live?”
“Yes,” I said, chills running down my arms. He looked nothing like the man in the visions — except for his eyes. Those were the same onyx, glittering like sunlight on a still pond. “My name is Tully now.” He stopped a few feet from me, reaching out tentatively, as if he wanted to touch me, but was afraid to do so.
“Ysolde?”
A woman’s voice called my name. Baltic froze, then whirled about.
“That sounds like May,” I said, frowning as I gazed back at the house. “I wonder how she got here?” “Silver mate!” Baltic spat, running a few yards away from me as if he sought something.
May emerged from behind the tree, smiling as she saw me. “There you are. We’ve been looking all over for you. We thought something might have happened to—agathos daimon! It’s Baltic.” “Yes, he is sharing the vision with me,” I said. “How is it that you’re seeing it, too?” “Run!” May said, grabbing my arm and pulling me after her as she took to her heels.
“You don’t understand. I need to talk to him—” “Not here in the shadow world,” she yelled, her grip like steel on my wrist.
“Ysolde!” Baltic’s roar was filled with fury like nothing I’d ever heard.
“This way!” May jerked me brutally as I tried to stop, pulling me so hard I slammed into the side of the car, seeing stars for a few seconds.
“Whoa!” Brom said, hurrying over to me, concern written all over his face. “You just appeared, like, right out of the air! Sullivan?” “I’m all right. Just a little dazed.” “Baltic is here,” May gasped, throwing herself on Gabriel. “In the shadow world. He almost had her. We barely escaped.” “Then he will be”—as Gabriel spoke, the air gathered and twisted upon itself, stretching to form the figure of a man who leaped forward out of nothing—“soon upon us.” “Don’t hurt him!” I cried as Gabriel and Kostya both jumped on Baltic. “Let me talk to him—” “Hold him!” Drake ordered, coming around the far side of the car.