Her enthusiasm, coupled with Matt’s own soft petition, caused an explosion that blew Winter clean off her feet, and ignited the upper tree limbs. The light from the fireball reflected in her shocked face.
“Curses, curses, curses!” she cried, jumping to her feet and running farther up the tote road, out from under the burning treetops. The sparking embers caught on the wind, and one tree after another started igniting.
Holy hell, the whole mountain was catching fire. Matt stepped back into the shadows of the flaming forest, lifted his arms skyward, and silently commanded the wind to cease, the clouds to gather, and the rains to come in a torrential downpour. Within minutes he was drenched to the skin, as was Winter. She was looking at the smoldering destruction through the rain, her mouth gaping wide enough that Matt feared she might drown.
He lowered his arms and the rain stopped just as suddenly as it had begun. Kenzie came slinking out of the woods, also soaked to his skin, and padded up to Winter. She folded at the knees to sit on the ground, wrapped her arms around the panther, and buried her face in his soggy fur. “I can’t control it!” she wailed to her pet. “I’m going to kill us all before I figure out how to save us.”
Dammit, she was right. If she didn’t get control of the magic by the winter solstice, Kenzie would definitely get his wish to die—right along with the rest of mankind! Why in hell couldn’t she work the magic?
His wife’s bout of self-pity lasted a good ten minutes before she finally felt the cold seeping into her wet clothes and started shivering. With one last sniffle, which she wiped on her sleeve, she stood up and continued her journey up the mountain. Kenzie fell into step beside her, and Matt moved back onto the path and followed just out of sight, but not out of earshot.
“I know you were drunk the other day, and I forgive you for chasing me,” she told her pet.
And there it was again, that unwavering compassion that had drawn Matt across centuries.
Kenzie could have really hurt Winter without meaning to, and yet she was just that quickly, just that simply, forgiving him.
She suddenly glanced over her shoulder, and Matt quickly stepped into the shadows. “Where do you suppose that rainstorm came from?” she asked Kenzie, staring up at the treetops. “Do you think Providence is babysitting me?”
Somebody sure as hell had to, Matt decided. But maybe he would leave that task to Pendaär, since the old man was so hell-bent to mentor his heir. That would leave Matt free to help Greylen and Robbie search for whoever had cut the pine.
“Matt and I are married,” she continued. “Don’t growl,” she said with a laugh. “We made it legal in Las Vegas two days ago, and for our wedding night I slept on the couch in his Utah office and he slept on the floor. Wasn’t that romantic?”
The panther curled back his lips in a grin, turned and started walking up the mountain again.
The first hint of daybreak was just starting to show as Winter stepped into the clearing at Pendaär’s cottage. Matt worked his way around the edge of the clearing while Winter and Kenzie mounted the steps to the porch, but she didn’t even get to knock before the door suddenly opened.
“It’s about time ye showed up,” Pendaär said without preamble. He took a step back and pointed at Kenzie. “Yer black demon can’t come in with ye.”
Kenzie sat down, looked up at Pendaär, and licked his lips.
“How did ye get soaked?” Pendaär asked, just now noticing that Winter was also drenched and shivering.
“There…ah, a quick-moving rainstorm hit when we were walking up. It must have been part of a squall line. It didn’t rain here?” she innocently asked.
Pendaär sighed and turned away from the open door as Winter and Kenzie disappeared inside.
Matt immediately darted from the trees to the side of the cottage and sat down with his back to the logs under a window. He pulled his sword from his belt and set it on the ground, ran his hand over his wet clothes to change them into his ancient—and dry—plaid, then wiggled his finger at the window sash until it opened an inch. He then pulled his knees up to his chest and huddled inside his warm plaid as he settled in to listen.
Winter stepped into the cabin with a sigh of relief, and Gesader immediately padded over and squeezed between the cookstove and the wall to lie down and soak up the heat. Winter walked to the fieldstone hearth, unbuttoned her jacket and slipped it off, and hung it on a peg on the mantel to dry. “I’
ve visited the pine tree,” she said as she held her hands toward the warm fire. “It’s very weak.”
Daar came over to stand beside her. “I wouldn’t know,” he said, also staring into the fire. “I’ve lost my ability to sense its energy. In fact, I can’t feel anything now, other than my achy old bones.”
Winter turned to face him. “I’m sorry, Father,” she whispered. “I didn’t know that when I hugged the pine tree you would lose your power.”
For a moment Daar continued to stare at the fire, then shrugged. “I had to lose it eventually.”
He turned his head to look at her. “I was pleased when it happened, actually,” he said, and Winter realized how old he suddenly looked. “Because it told me ye had accepted yer calling.” He clasped his hands at his waist and shifted uneasily. “Do ye understand all that goes with it, lass?”
“I understand,” she said, turning to gaze back at the fire. “You forgot to mention the other day, though, that if I have a baby I would have to give up my calling.” She looked at him. “Nor did you think to warn me that if I fall in love but don’t have children, I will have to watch my mortal husband die right along with everyone else I love.”
Daar looked down at the floor. “I knew ye’d figure that out on yer own.” He looked up. “But ye accepted yer calling anyway.”
“Yes,” she said. It seemed he had nothing to say to that as he continued to stare into the fire.
Winter took a tiny step away and also looked down at the flames. “And I married Matt Gregor two days ago,” she said.
Daar whipped toward her. “Ye what!”
“And I’m pregnant,” she added without looking up.
He lurched back with a gasp. “Winter! What have ye done!”
She faced him and crossed her arms under her breasts. “It turns out that Matt is actually Cùram de Gairn,” she calmly continued. “And that he came here not with the intention of destroying mankind, but to seduce me into helping him right an old wrong.”
“And ye let him!” Daar shouted, his wrinkled face turning a blotchy red. “Did ye know the bastard was Cùram when ye married him?”
“Aye.”
“And ye did it anyway!”
“Aye,” she calmly returned. “Because I love him.”
“Ye can’t love him. He’s a soulless bastard who will do anything to get what he wants.”
“He’s far from soulless, Father.” She dropped her arms to her sides. “He’s actually trying to fix the mess he’s made.”
“I bet he is,” Daar snapped, “by killing the trees.” He waved an angry hand at her. “And now he’s stolen yer power by getting ye pregnant, so we have no way to fight him.”
“I don’t want to fight him,” she whispered. “I want to help him. He’s lost hope, Father. Couldn’
t you feel it in the air when our pine began to weaken? Didn’t you sense the chill wind coming this way? It was when I hugged the pine that I realized it wasn’t anger or revenge driving Cùram, but despair. He was willing to let mankind die because he had lost hope.”
“Iswilling!” Daar snapped. “Not was. And he’s succeeded, hasn’t he, if he married ye and got ye with child.” He pointed a crooked finger at her. “Ye let yer heart overrule yer head, girl.” He shook his head and turned away. “Love is a curse that’s always interfering in our work.”
“No,” Winter said. “Love is the strongest emotion of all. It’s what will save us, not doom us.”