“If he saved your life, it is no doubt because he endangered it in the first place,” Kiernan objected.
Murdoch refused to defend himself. They had to accept him as he was—a man without words who could prove himself only through action. He’d spilled his guts for Lis and the gods. He had no desire to repeat the performance for disbelievers.
“You look through eyes clouded by affection. You do not see my sister as she really is,” Ian admonished Kiernan. “Consider that Lissandra has done what the rest of us could not—returned with both Murdoch and the chalice. That he managed to deliver her safely despite her willfulness speaks well of his ability to deal with her as no other can. My concern lies in the chance of losing the one man who’s capable of controlling her.”
Murdoch allowed himself a laugh at Ian’s perspective. It felt good to have at least one man who understood him—and Lis. “To risk Lissandra is to risk my soul,” he admitted. “But as she has made clear, she is my equal and my match. You must give her the same freedom to do as she wishes as I have.”
Lissy tugged one of his fists free from where he’d hidden it, and wrapped her slender palm around his fingers. He watched proudly as she glared at the room bursting at the seams with muscled men. “I have no idea what Murdoch intends,” she said, “but I have seen what he is capable of, and I will do whatever he asks if it means restoring Aelynn to normal. The gods are truly with him.”
He lifted his eyebrow and looked down at her. “And if I tell you that you must stay here, where it is safe?”
“I will follow anyway,” she said sweetly.
That succeeded in raising an uproar of discussion that carried well into the evening hours.
Thirty-one
Letting his spirit roam, Murdoch studied the stunted growth of what should have been his mother’s lush field of wheat. He’d sought her out as soon as he was able, but she wasn’t home. And apparently she refused to return home until he left. Which he wouldn’t do until he’d earned the right to the Oracle’s residence. He came by his stubbornness fairly.
His brash statement to Ian about the broken volcano had been based on his visions, but he needed to plant his feet in the soil and feel Aelynn in his veins before he could even grasp the scope of the problem here.
The volcano hadn’t quaked since their arrival two days ago, but he didn’t remember the smoke being as thick and constant in his youth as it was now. The ashes raining down on the land reminded him of the poor Breton village after he’d nearly destroyed it with the unintended fire.
So far, his mother’s people and the landless rebels who defied the Council had left him alone out here. They were waiting and watching to see what he would do. Word had spread quickly of his claim to the title of Oracle. As ever, he was caught between the worlds of his amacara’s powerful family and the voiceless one of his parents. He didn’t know how to bridge the gap between the two classes any more than he knew how to heal the dying land.
From his spirit’s lofty perch on a celestial plane, he studied the distant elevation. Until these last few years, the volcano had been quiet. It had not unleashed its fiery power since the times of the Ancient Ones. The blackened lava had eroded in the winds and rain of the centuries, revealing the skeleton of earth and stone beneath the molten ash. Jungles grew up the mountainside now. Coffee and cinnamon trees flourished on the lower foothills, but higher up, the soil was too thin for farming, and fiery fissures had opened.
With his feet rooted firmly on the earth and his spirit free to roam, Murdoch’s conviction grew that the gods had merely tested his obedience with the tor. Now they would test his strength and wisdom—and his confidence in himself. He was inexorably drawn to explore Aelynn’s uppermost reaches.
Not only his fate but the fate of Aelynn rested on his shoulders. Until now, he’d thought an Oracle simply another pampered leader who told people what to do. He hadn’t realized that in actuality, an Oracle stood between life and death—just as a warrior must do.
Persuaded that he’d learned all he could and that only one solution was possible, Murdoch emerged from his trance, uprooted his feet from the wheat field, and replaced his hoe in the shed where he’d found it.
He returned to the Oracle’s cave, which Ian had politely left for his use. The Council was having tantrums over Murdoch’s access to the sacred residence, but even they had to agree that since he’d returned the chalice to the island, he wasn’t likely to sell it to the highest bidder, so the island’s treasures were presumably safe with him.
They might think differently if they could see him now.
After wrapping the sacred object in old velvet, he tucked it into a canvas satchel. He prayed that he understood its purpose.
He added foodstuffs from the larder to the satchel, along with herbs and unguents. Dylys had taught him well, and he knew her cabinet inside and out. She hadn’t taught him all that Ian and Lissandra—as potential Oracles—had needed to know, but he’d listened and learned just the same. He prayed fervently that he understood the gods’ intent, and that he could carry out his task without mishap.
With care, he wrapped his swords in cloth and canvas that would shield them from tarnish and deposited them in the hidden chamber behind the cave’s inner room. He verified that the Sword of Justice, the island’s other treasure, was still safe in its hiding place, then laid his weapons alongside it. If he understood the gods, he would no longer have need of such blades.
He was at peace with the idea. A warrior had to be strong, and he’d proved the strength of his sword arm. By using physical prowess to accomplish what he believed, he had almost sold his soul. Now he had to prove the strength of his convictions by other means.
Night had fallen by the time his preparations were complete. His step was light and quick as he took the path through the temple grove and up the mountainside, the same path he’d traversed as a child, when the island was his entire world.
If he was wrong, this might be his last exploration.
Lissandra bent over the young Diviner and her newborn daughter and tucked them in while the proud papa looked on. “She is so beautiful. You are very fortunate.”
The mother beamed despite her exhaustion. “She is fortunate that Aelynn sent you home in time to assist in my labor.”
“I should never have waited to take my wife into town. I knew the nearest Healer was too old to climb these hills. It’s all my fault,” the father said gruffly.
Lissandra smiled and touched his burly arm. “You tended your crops as you must if you wish to feed your family. There is no shame in that. Perhaps Aelynn saw that I was home and sent the child early so your wife might be up and well in time for the harvest.”
Tears sprang to the young man’s eyes, and he hastily hid them by rubbing as if he had a lash in one. “Aelynn be praised,” he muttered.
His wife had fallen sound asleep and could not repeat the prayer.
“Return Aelynn’s gift by helping others when you can,” Lissandra said. Swaddling the newborn to give it security and warmth, she left her in her loving father’s arms.
The young family had a long night ahead, one she would normally have shared so the parents could learn about their new bundle of joy from experienced hands.
But she had sensed Murdoch climbing the mountain and could not linger. Even though they had not said the vows, the bonds of amacara held them, and she felt the direction of his pull. She’d sensed him even when she’d been engrossed in the child’s delivery. The inner connection that had opened between them in Glastonbury was disconcerting at times.
Murdoch’s excitement told her he’d found a solution, and she wanted to be there to watch—should he survive the ordeal. The cliff was impossibly high, the path much too tortuous. He could crash into the sea before she reached him.
Heart thudding, she stopped in the village to tell the local Healer of the birth so she could send someone to help the new parents.
What should she do now? She was unaccustomed to making
her own choices.
The path down to her home would take hours. She was exhausted and drained by the daylong process of bringing a child into the world. She needed rest. But she wouldn’t get any while the man she wanted more than life itself pretended he was a mountain goat and climbed to Aelynn’s peak on a dangerous journey.
That Murdoch had left her the choice of whether to follow him invigorated her more than sleep. She could dutifully tend to her people as her mother had taught, or she could risk following Murdoch on another heart-stopping adventure with the potential for either disaster or blinding success.
She chose Murdoch. Whatever happened, she wanted to be at his side, to see the world through his eyes so she could open her mind to new ideas that her previous isolation prevented.
Requesting food and drink of the Healer, Lissandra partook of some and added the rest to her sack of herbs. She rubbed her feet briskly with a refreshing unguent, let the Healer massage her shoulders to relax the muscles, then set out into the night as if it were dawn.
Murdoch was risking his life for Aelynn. She just didn’t understand how or why. Her Finding skill seemed connected more to Murdoch than to the object in his knapsack, but once she took the dusty lane out of the village, she identified the chalice he carried.
Dawn had thrown out its first orange glow before she felt him stop to rest. Weary in every bone of her body, she’d like to do the same, but not until she’d caught up with him. His desire poured through her like the flow of hot lava.
Once they said the vows of amacara, she would never be able to resist his call again. She no longer feared taking that step. When done freely—by choice—it was not bondage, but a covenant. It seemed as natural now as it had seemed unnatural before.
She arrived as the dawn hit the mountainside, illuminating the lightning-sculpted boulder below her. The sun’s light disappeared as she slipped into a canyon between walls of ancient lava near the peak.
He’d timed his trip well. No one would have noticed their progress between jungle and canyon at night. And now that it was day, no one could see her behind the wall. If they were missed, they could be Found, but who would miss them? It wasn’t as if either of them stayed in one place for long. It was rather exciting knowing they could escape from the demands of an entire population and find privacy up here.
Stripped to the waist, Murdoch was waiting for her when she arrived. As always, his bare torso loomed large, even against a mountain backdrop, but it was the peace in his eyes that took her breath away.
Taking her heavy satchel and setting it aside, he wordlessly wrapped her in his embrace and poured his Healing energy into her aching bones. She all but melted into the familiar hard planes of his chest and shoulders.
“You are a woman above all others, and I adore you with all my heart and soul,” he murmured, stroking her back.
“If you brought me here because you could not restrain your lust a moment longer, I will push you off this mountain,” she warned, although she didn’t mean a word of it. To be in his arms was a pleasure she could never have too much of.
He laughed gently into her hair, then, with his finger, lifted her chin so he could kiss her. Desire flowed through her lips and tongue and downward, feeding the air she breathed and the blood warming her womb.
“Too soon, you will not be able to climb this hill,” he murmured, stroking her belly. “I had to do it now. I cannot wait while the Council debates our future. The island’s balance must be restored immediately.”
She studied him with interest. He looked peaceful, accepting, not worried or anxious. Weariness crinkled the skin about his eyes, but their color was still the bright blue his ring had once been, startling against the dark hue of his face. She stroked his stubbled jaw, and he smiled in the manner that made her bones melt all over again. “In what way is the island out of balance?” she asked.
With a bleak look, he gestured at the peak. “The volcano is awakening.”
Alarm was her first reaction. The smoke did seem to be thicker, blacker, but then, she’d seen it at her mother’s funeral and accepted it as an omen from the gods. “I don’t understand.”
“Feel the heat rising through your sandals.” He waited for her to test the soil.
She frowned. “Perhaps the earth’s crust is just thinner in this place.”
He shook his head. “I felt it down below, too. The effect has apparently been gradual. You haven’t noticed the severity because you haven’t been away as I have. Besides, I feel the earth’s energy more than you do. The heat is roasting the soil, killing the crops from below, and the ash and smoke are keeping out the sun’s warmth, changing our weather.”
“We’ve known there was danger, of course,” she said slowly, feeling her way around his explanation. “But one can’t put a lid on a volcano. If it is really awake, must we flee?”
He hugged her tighter and pointed at the ground. “I draw my strength from Aelynn and the volcano’s power. Your mother didn’t destroy me so much as separation from my home did.”
Lissandra pondered the mystery until his perception seeped into hers, and she stared at him in wonder. “While you were here, you drained the heat and fire and kept the volcano in balance. Once you left, the energy had nowhere else to go!” Which confirmed that her mother had been terribly wrong to banish him. She hugged her elbows to contain her sorrow at the years they’d lost.
He nodded. “While I was gone, the pressure built.”
“And how will you release it?” she asked, images of steam and fire filling her head. “Throw a tantrum and blast the stars?” Perhaps her mother hadn’t been wrong. Perhaps Murdoch had needed those years away to understand how fragile their world was.
“I could do it that way.” For a moment, mirth erased the solemnity of Murdoch’s gaze. “But there are more pleasant alternatives. How do you think I unleash my fire when I do not let my rage explode?”
Lissandra blushed clear from her hair roots to her toenails. “Our lovemaking releases Aelynn’s fire?”
“That’s one theory. Ian and the Council will not approve. What do you say?”
“I say we test your theory.”
If possible, Murdoch’s eyes glowed an even brighter blue as he gathered her in his arms and swept her from her feet. “I have the traditional herbs and unguents with me. There is a small grotto with heated water waiting inside.” His mockery fled, and his expression grew more serious than she had ever seen it as he asked the words she had thought never to hear: “Will you marry me?”
Thirty-two
“Marry? Here? Not in the temple?”
Murdoch chuckled as he lowered Lis to a bed he’d made of his sack and the heavy blanket he’d brought for this purpose. He heard no displeasure in Lis’s voice, only perplexity, and his relief knew no bounds. She wasn’t concerned about marrying a muddled man from a farmer’s home so much as the proper conduct of the ceremony.
She believed in him more than he believed in himself—or in this new self, leastways. “We can marry again in the temple, if you wish, but we’ve already created a non-Aelynn child. We don’t need the spirits of our elders from the altar. Or Ian’s permission. If I am the chosen one, then I must lead as I see fit.”
She accepted that with a nod and curled against his shoulder when he lay down beside her. Long ago, this land had been under water. Even now, soft sand filled its hidden caverns. The blanket gave as comfortably as any mattress.
“And will you tell me why we must say our vows here, above the world, in such an unorthodox manner?” she asked.
“It won’t be entirely unorthodox. We have a grotto and incense and the traditional herbs and wine. The only thing different is the location. If I am to draw off the volcano’s heat, I would rather expend the flames high above habitation, where I can cause no harm. I’ve learned not to explode fireworks around other people,” he said with sadness, squeezing her waist.
“How did you become so wise?” she murmured sleepily. Her long lashes swept
her cheeks as she closed her eyes.
“From you.” He kissed her lids. “From the chalice. From spending hours with no thoughts but Aelynn’s. We’ll rest now. The moon is full tonight. It will be an auspicious start for our future.”
“Have I told you how much I missed you these last days?” She settled in more comfortably against him.
“Have I told you how much I love you?” he returned, but she was already asleep and didn’t hear his heart-spoken declaration.
He didn’t know if a man as cynical and battle scarred as he was deserved the love of a woman as understanding as Lis, but he knew a rare and precious gift when he was given one. If the gods allowed him to claim her tonight, he could do no less than return the gift by saving the island—or die trying.
“Ohhhh, this feels so nice. It’s a good thing we slept first, or I’d fall asleep and drown.” Lissandra leaned back in the sandy volcano-heated pool inside the cave. Steaming water lapped at her breasts and soothed muscles aching from the climb. Her legs floated effortlessly, brushing Murdoch’s.
The desire between them seemed capable of turning the pool water to steam.
To keep the pressure building inside her to a minimum, she tried not to look at him too often. After they’d woken from their nap, they’d dined on cheese, dried fruits, and toasted bread, not exactly a wedding feast, but she tasted nothing while enrapt in fascination with Murdoch. His dark hair brushed his powerful shoulders, and his beard-blackened jaw emphasized the luminous quality of his blue gaze. She didn’t think she could get enough of staring into the brilliant blaze of his eyes. His mobile lips quirked every time he caught her staring at them, as if he recognized the absurdity of this mark from the gods on a man once destined for black deeds.
Sitting beside him where she couldn’t gawk so easily, she was enthralled by the muscular power of the arm dwarfing her shoulders, the iron-thewed thigh pressed against her soft one, and the proud jut of his masculinity just below the water’s surface. Heat obviously did not wilt Murdoch’s ardor. She understood now how fire fed his energy.
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