FOREVER ENCHANTED

by Maggie Shayne

  She bit her lower lip and battled tears. It didn't matter. It didn't matter what it meant. It was over between them. One way or another, it was over.

  Tate had arranged a circle of blue candles around a flat stone table just outside the mansion's walls. Upon the table he'd piled any number of objects. Foodstuffs, and crystals, and even gold coins and flowers picked from the vines that crawled over the stone walls. Honeysuckle and wild rose. The circle of candles glowed in the amber light of dawn, and for once, the wind seemed to have stilled. Amazingly, the candles were not blown out by the breeze that usually rushed in from the lake.

  Bridin and Tristan sat upon the ground, just inside the circle. He on Tate's left, and she on his right. Not close enough to touch, she thought miserably, but perhaps that was for the best. She hadn't exchanged more than a stilted, cursory greeting with Tristan this morning. He seemed preoccupied and brooding. Probably worrying about the battle ahead, she assumed, and wished she didn't believe he was this troubled over his feelings for her, and her motives in turning him down, instead. But she did believe it. She knew she'd caused this worry in his eyes, and it cut at her soul. When Tristan looked at her, his heart was in his eyes. It was all she could do not to melt into his arms and confess her love.

  "Ancient Wizard of Shara," Tate intoned, standing upright between them, close to the stone altar. "We thank you for permitting us the use of your haven. And we leave you these offerings of peace and goodwill between us."

  There was a soft rumble, much like distant thunder, though not a single cloud marred the blue perfection of the sky above.

  "We ask your blessing as we take our leave now. Know that we go in peace, and wish you no harm."

  Again the rumble, louder this time. Tate closed his eyes, nodded slightly. Almost as if that thunder were speaking to him.

  In a quieter voice Tate said, "It will be done."

  The rumbling sound died away. The breeze picked up, and the candles were snuffed by a single cold waft of wet wind. Tate lowered his hands to his sides and turned to face Tristan. "The wizard wants it known that he was wrongly accused, Tristan. Seems Bridin's good name isn't the only one you'll have to restore. He harmed no child, loved them as if they were his own, and his spirit is trapped here in this place. He cannot rest until his innocence is proven to his people."

  "It's been nearly a hundred years," Tristan said. "Everyone knows by now that it was malnutrition and not the wizard making the children ill." And from the distance, that rumble began again. Tristan searched the skies, and nodded. "But it ought to be a matter of public record," he added. "The wizard's innocence should be written down, and his banishment stricken from the records of Sharan history. I'll see to it."

  "I knew he was hurt by being wrongly accused," Bridin said. She got to her feet, brushing the grass and twigs away from the clothing she wore. The pine green tunic, brown leggings, and suede, knee-high boots were back in place. Around her waist was a belt and scabbard, and her own sword hung heavy against her thigh. Her hair was caught up in a tight braid at the back of her head. And the tunic had a hood, which she would pull up when they reached the other side. No need announcing her identity to those who would love to see her dead. She'd march into Vincent's chambers under her own power, not dragged by rebellious mobs.

  "It should be perfectly safe to leave now," Tate said. And he led the way to the corkscrew path, and the boat bobbing in the water at its base.

  "We have one stop to make first," Tristan said.

  Bridin glanced sideways at him, and saw something in his eyes so sad that it made her heart clench. "Where?"

  He said nothing. Just took hold of her hand to steady her as she climbed into the boat.

  Tristan and Tate waited at the edge of the woods behind her sister's home while Bridin went inside to say farewell. She tried valiantly to keep her eyes dry as she hugged her little nephew and kissed his cherubic face for what might be the very last time. Then lowered him into his cradle and turned to Brigit.

  "I just don't understand this," Brigit went on, continuing with the stream of objections she'd begun raising from the moment Bridin had told her she was going back. "You haven't found this man you came looking for. When you came here, you said you wouldn't return until you did."

  Bridin shook her head, averting her eyes. "I've run out of patience," she said. "It's been six months and I've seen no sign of this man. I'm tired of waiting. That's all."

  "No, it isn't all." Brigit clasped her sister's hands in hers, searching her face. "What's changed, Bridin?"

  Lifting her chin, Bridin met her sister's eyes. She sighed heavily, knowing it would do little good to lie. Brigit would only worry all the more. Best to tell her at least a bit of the truth. Not where she was going once she arrived on the other side, or what she planned to do. Brigit would never let her leave if she knew that. But a little of the truth might ease her mind.

  "Tell me, Bridin."

  Bridin nodded. "I've learned that the people are suffering terribly under Vincent's rule. And you know I can't stand by and let that go on. I'm their princess, Brigit. It's my duty to go back and do what I can to help them."

  "And just what do you think you can do?"

  She shrugged. "I won't know that until I get there."

  "But it's dangerous for you there! Bridin—"

  "Brigit, please. I have to do this. Nothing you can say is going to change that, and you're only making this harder than it has to be." Brigit's gaze faltered, and she lowered her eyes. "Hug me, sister, and wish me well. We'll see each other again. I promise you that." And they would. Be it in this life... or the next, Bridin added silently.

  Smiling weakly, Brigit hugged her sister hard. "You're so stubborn," she said, and Bridin heard the tears in her voice. "I love you. Please be careful. Jonathon needs you, you know."

  Bridin nodded and returned the embrace before pulling herself free. "I have to go now."

  Brigit clung to her hands, but Bridin moved slowly away until only their fingertips touched. Then she turned and hurried out of the house, barely making it through the door before the tears burning in her eyes spilled over.

  Tristan held her hand in his as they crossed through the doorway to the other side once more. Otherwise she wouldn't have been able to pass through. Her mother had willed it. She couldn't return without the two pendants that Tristan now wore. So she couldn't have returned here without him.

  Mother had known of the protective powers those pendants possessed. And she must also have known of the dangers Bridin would face here in Rush. But Bridin didn't need the protection of the pendants now. She wasn't the one who would ride into battle against a deadly enemy. Tristan needed the pendants more. Bridin would surrender herself and accept whatever Fate had in store.

  She squeezed the hand that clung to hers, and Tristan turned to look into her eyes as they stepped together through the doorway. He didn't look away as they emerged on the other side. And neither did she. Though she could feel the differences here. The air smelled differently, softer and lighter somehow, and scented with heady fragrances. The sunlight felt warmer, pure heat and fire on her skin.

  Like the fire in Tristan's eyes.

  "Bridin, I—"

  "Bridey-girl! Lord, but I've missed you!" She jerked her gaze from Tristan's as Raze limped into the clearing and wrapped her in a bear hug that wasn't as powerful as it had been once. She hugged him back, closing her eyes, wanting to curl into his familiar arms and cry until she fell asleep. Just as she'd done as a child. But she wasn't a child anymore, was she? No, she was a woman now, facing a woman's problems. A leader's choices.

  Raze released her and stepped back, scanning her face with his pale cornflower eyes. "Girl, you look tired. Thin." This was punctuated by an accusing glare at Tristan.

  "It's only the stress of worrying about my people, Raze. Tristan's done nothing but watch over me. I wouldn't even be here if not for him."

  Raze frowned at her, slanted his gaze to the side, to meet Pog's
questioning one. Pog simply shrugged and elbowed his way in for a hug. "I've thought about you every day, cousin."

  "And I you, Pog," she said. "But how did you know to meet us here?"

  Pog nodded toward Tate. "Tristan's man told us you'd likely be coming back soon. We've been camped nearby, waiting."

  He hugged her hard, then let her go and searched her face, his own eyes grim. "Bridin, I'm afraid the news isn't good. The people—"

  She held up a hand. "I know what's been happening," she said. "They've turned against me. They blame me for their suffering. They believe I'm knowingly allowing it to go on, while living in luxury somewhere safe. I know, Pog."

  "I'm sorry," he said. "I've tried to explain, but—"

  "There's nothing you could have done." She sighed heavily, blinking her eyes dry, unwilling to shed tears in front of any of them. "It amazes me, how fickle their loyalties can be."

  "They were tricked, my lady. They'd never have turned against you without the deceptive skills of... his kind."

  She felt Tristan tense behind her. Felt it even before he spoke. "My brother is as much my enemy as yours, Pog. And I'm just as determined to restore your cousin's good name as you are."

  Pog rolled his eyes. "Of course you are. I'm sure you intend to retake the kingdom only to undermine your own rule by vindicating Bridin's name. Makes perfect sense."

  "It makes no sense whatsoever," Tristan said softly. "But that's what I intend—that and more."

  Again that puzzled glance exchanged between Raze and Pog, while Tristan's eyes burned into her back.

  She turned slowly, met his gaze, and heard her heart whisper, I love you. Her enemy. Always had, and likely always would, no matter what this day brought.

  And she saw the same thing shining in his eyes. But he covered it quickly, breaking contact when Tate cleared his throat.

  "My lord, the forces I've gathered are awaiting you deep in the forest, near the crystal caverns. We must go to them now. The sooner the better."

  Again his gaze sought Bridin's, caught it, held it.

  "My lady," Pog said, "we have safe refuge for you on the Dark Side. You'll be protected there, but we must go now—"

  Tristan shook his head. "Find another place, Bridin. Gather up your loyal ones and find another haven. If I have to think of you... there... I—" He shook his head.

  She lifted her hands, clasped his. "I promise you, from my heart, Tristan, I will not linger there."

  "Not even one night," he said.

  "No. Not even one night. You have my word. I don't want you dwelling on this, Tristan, and becoming distracted. I'll go there long enough to gather those loyal to me. No longer."

  "And where will you go?"

  Bridin closed her eyes. It didn't matter where. He'd be with her. In her heart, in her soul. His eyes haunting her mind. "I will send word, Tristan, as soon as we've set up camp."

  He shook his head. "Not good enough. Suppose something happens to you en route? No, I need to... Wait. There is a waterfall. Follow the river north, from the far side of the dark realm. No one will venture that far in search of you. Behind the cascade, there are caves, and you could remain hidden there for weeks, if necessary. The water is pure for drinking, and there is game and fruit in abundance nearby."

  She closed her eyes, envisioning the place while her heart twisted. Knowing she would never see it. "It sounds perfect, Tristan."

  "You'll go there?" He cupped her cheek, tilting her head up, searching her eyes.

  "You know that I can take care of myself, Tristan," she said, and then she smiled, though it felt shaky. "Even against a great wizard, I manage to hold my own. I do... what I have to do."

  His fingers threaded into her hair. "Then do it, Bridin. Take care. Be cautious. Stay hidden. Dammit, stay alive until this is over. I want you around, fighting over this damned kingdom with me until we're both a hundred and six."

  Her lips trembled with the lie as she nodded. And then he pulled her close, very suddenly, and kissed her. His mouth was warm, wet, and possessive. Almost as if he didn't want to let her go. And when he released her, he just stared into her eyes for a long moment. He lifted his hands to his neck and removed the pendants there. And then he lowered them both over her head. She heard Pog's soft gasp of surprise.

  "I'll convince you, Bridin," he whispered. "You'll see."

  She caught his hand in hers before he took it away from her neck, and then she removed one of the pendants, and pressed it into that hand. "Wear this one," she told him. "And be safe."

  He clasped the dainty pewter fairy in his fist, nodding hard. "I'll wear it... and when I feel it warm against my skin, I'll be thinking of you."

  Her declaration of love for him leapt to her lips, and she bit it back. But she didn't think she could hide her feelings. He must see them in her eyes. He must hear the cries of her heart.

  "Be careful," he told her. Then he turned abruptly and strode away into the forest, with Tate following close behind.

  "What in tarnation was that all about?" Raze asked, staring after Tristan with a frown.

  "Come on, my lady," Marinda muttered, grasping her hand and tugging. "The Dark Side lies in this direction. Come. Hurry, now."

  Tristan marveled at what he saw when he made his way to the crystal caverns deep in the heart of the forest of Rush.

  Shara, he corrected in silence.

  Then he returned to his scrutiny of the clearing that looked to most eyes like a meadow tucked away within a great forest. The entrances to the caverns didn't show. There were tunnels in the ground, covered over by brush and brambles. The caverns honeycombed within the hill that rose at the valley's back, though not a soul would know that by looking.

  One of his men had played here as a child, and discovered this place purely by accident. And briefly Tristan wondered how many other wonders this enchanted realm still held hidden within her jeweled cloak. How many other discoveries were waiting for a child's curiosity to find them? And that made him think of Bridin, of exploring these forests with her at his side, and making each new discovery together. It would happen. He'd make it happen.

  He drew his mount to a halt and surveyed the area. Several fires snapped and sparked in the valley now, by daylight, but Tristan knew the men would be smart enough not to burn any by night. In one area men sat together, whittling wood with their knives to create long, straight arrows. Over one fire, molten iron bubbled like lava, as it was poured into molds the shape of arrowheads. And the steady rhythm of hammer striking anvil rang like the beat that kept them all functioning, as the smithy forged steel rods into broadswords.

  It was easier to work out here than within the caves. And Tristan knew there were lookouts posted, and should anyone venture near, these men and their equipment would vanish into the earth more quickly than a frightened mole. Only the ashes of their fires would remain, leading any enemy to believe they'd camped here briefly and then moved on.

  The lookouts had spotted Tate and Tristan as they'd ridden in, but Tate had whistled a particular bird's call, which must, Tristan assumed, be their idea of a password.

  Now he sat astride his horse in the very center of all the bustle, and waited as, one by one, men spotted him there. Their eyes would narrow, heads tilting to the side as each elbowed or tapped the man beside him. And within a few seconds, every eye in the place was resting upon him.

  And then someone shouted, "Tristan!"

  There was a roar, and they all ran forward at once, shouting and reaching up to clasp his hand when they got close enough. Moonshadow reared and danced, snorting and pawing the ground, swishing his tail in agitation. Tristan was glad he was mounted, else he may well have been trampled by his own men.

  "Tristan's returned!" someone shouted above the din. "Cease the work! Tonight we celebrate!"

  Tristan's mount was led toward yet another hidden entrance to the caverns, this one large enough to accommodate them both once the vines concealing it were pushed aside. Men surged around and bes
ide him, and he found himself in a darkened room as one man rushed around lighting lamps, and another entered from the left, rolling a barrel of ale before him. Several more arrived with carved wooden mugs, and more came bearing instruments. Fiddles and fifes, even a mouth organ or two. Man after man pumped Tristan's hand and welcomed him home. Someone shoved a mug, spilling over with ale, into his free hand.

  Lord, but he'd never seen such a hasty change of pace in his life, from working under the sun, to merriment in the confines of darkness. And yet, it happened now, before his eyes. Men danced, and sang, and drank to victory.

  And seeing this, he knew how very long they'd been without any cause for celebration whatsoever. And so he let it go on. Eventually every man had greeted him, and he was allowed to recline in a shadowed corner and observe the festivities without taking part. He didn't feel like celebrating. This was just the beginning of the battle, not the victorious outcome. If only Bridin were here. Without her, there seemed no cause at all to celebrate.

  The men making music slowed their pace, changing to a soft love song that Tristan recognized as an ancient Celtic one. And he realized that in all the years he'd known Bridin, he'd never danced with her. He'd never crooned the words of this love song to her while holding her in his arms. He'd never...

  He was being foolish. Within the next few weeks Bridin would be back in his arms again. He'd see to that.

  The thought made him smile.

  He shook himself as a hand closed on his shoulder. "Tristan, my lord, have you heard me?"

  Tristan blinked away his thoughts of Bridin, and focused on the man before him.

  "The men... they want you to speak, my lord. They want to know of your plan, and where you've been and all."

  Tristan nodded, and rose slowly to his feet. The room went quiet as he made his way to the fire near the center.

  She rode into darkness. Raze, Marinda, and Pog had her mare waiting, hidden nearby. She'd missed Crystal, and stroked her sleek, lily white neck as she rode slowly, following where Pog led. And gradually the forest grew darker. It was a different sort of darkness she felt closing in around her. A heavy, suffocating kind. The air became stale and cold as they moved on, and finally they emerged into the place where she knew Tristan had been raised. An abandoned village. A ghost town of sorts. With twisted, black-barked trees whose leaves were palest yellow. The vegetation here seemed watery, colorless. White and sickly green. Skinny and drooping, all of it. Even the vines that draped down like specters from the branches under which they passed, trailing their clammy fingers over her face. Spiderwebs. Bridin pushed their touch away from her, shivering in revulsion as she neared the building she knew at once.