She recalled the old Abenaki story of how the first winter came to the People of the Dawnland. Glooskap had left his people for a time to take care of other projects. While he was gone an Ancient One, a great magician, came from the far Northern lands where it is always cold. He brought the first frost to the land. Glooskap's children shivered with fear and cold. Until then it had always been summer, now the lakes and streams were hard. They could not fish.
Glooskap finally heard the cries of his people. He brought another magician, from the Always-Summer lands, to chase the cold magician away. They made a pact between the cold and the warmth; each would visit and hold sway for six months.
Glooskap taught his children how to stay warm during the months of cold. He taught them how to bend willow branches to make snowshoes so they could continue to hunt even in deep snow. He showed them how to tan the hides of the animals they caught so that the fur stayed on; it would keep them warm. He taught them how to save and preserve nuts, berries, and meat so they would not starve.
Melodi always saw the promise of spring in the first snowfall. As the Penobscots knew, nature was in balance. Winter and summer must have their day.
With a light heart, Melodi ran through the fine flakes to the shore of the lake. The wind died down as she reached the edge of the water. It became a calm reflection of the sky above. Over the water, Melodi watched, entranced, the flirtatious fall of snow before it became one with the lake.
Renewed, refreshed, and ready to return to her studies, Melodi didn't pay attention to the path she took on the way back to her cottage. When she found herself crossing a shaft of yellow light, made misty by the falling snow, she realized that she'd taken the path closest to the main house.
She paused for moment to peek into a window. A small fire glowed from the grate. It lent its soft glow to the lamp on the piano, illuminating the man sitting there. Melodi saw a reflection of her own deep concentration in Darien's face as he alternately touched the piano keys then put pencil to the sheet in front of him. The small drift of paper surrounding him amused her. She was unexpectedly grateful that he seemed to have found something besides singing to move his life along.
She left him to it. To intrude now might disturb his act of creation.
Her cabin seemed bereft when she reached it. The magical interlude of pagan dancing in the snow was replaced by a more thoughtful introspection caused by seeing Darien hard at work.
"So he's an egotistical idiot," she murmured as she sat at the table once more. "Face it, you haven't sensed this depth of feeling with anyone since you broke off with Joe."
She let her head sink to her crossed arms on the table. What would it be like to wake up cradled in the circle of Darien's arms? She drifted off to sleep.
Was that chocolate she smelled? She started fully awake at the sounds of plates rattling from the kitchen. Brushing the sleep from her eyes, Melodi walked to the doorway. She knew who she'd find before she saw him.
"Before you say anything, I knocked but you didn't answer," Darien said, his face clouding. "I came in because I was afraid you were in another trance. Since you were snoring, I figured you were fine."
Melodi folded her arms and leaned against the doorjamb.
Darien fidgeted with the forks he held in his hands. "I brought a peace offering." He held a chair out for her at the table.
"What kind of peace offering?" Melodi asked, still bemused from sleep. The scent of chocolate tickled her nostrils again.
With a flourish, Darien pulled back the towel covering a pan in the center of the table. Wisps of steam carried a mouth-watering aroma.
"Chocolate Decadence," Darien announced. He thought he'd better give her a lot. It might help him swallow the crow he was having with his own helping.
Melodi picked up her fork then put it down again. "This is a bribe, isn't it?"
"Absolutely," Darien said, "as well as a celebration."
"What about the apology? I thought that was part of this scheme."
"Right. I sounded like an ignorant jerk this morning. I'm sorry if I insulted your friend or his grandfather."
Melodi cut him off. "I don't need this. Tell it to Joe."
"If I had his phone number I'd call him right now."
"I'll dial, you talk." Melodi left her untouched food on the plate and went to the phone. She dialed without looking up the number then held the handset out to Darien; a challenging gleam lit her eyes.
"Thanks." Discomfort nagged. He couldn't remember the last time anyone had made him apologize for anything.
Joe Larkfeather's unmistakable baritone thrummed through the wire. To Darien's surprise, Joe cut him off before he could identify himself.
"Darien, is Melodi with you?" Joe said.
Mouth agape, Darien gathered his wits about him. "Yes, but how did you know it was me?"
"That's not important. Once my grandfather heard your story, he was concerned for you. I was just about to call when the phone rang. Listen. You and Melodi must stay together tonight. Grandfather believes your souls may be in danger."
Mindful that he'd been about to apologize for his earlier disbelief, Darien bit back the words of sarcastic bias that leapt to his lips. "Joe, you're entitled to your own brand of spirituality but I don't think it has any bearing on what's going on here."
"Don't you? Haven't you felt the tug of the lake and woods? Hasn't the eagle and loon called to you to let go of your modern self and fly?"
Joe's words struck a deep chord in Darien. A tremor shook him. Even as a boy he'd come here in search of simplicity. More recently, this place had been a respite from his hectic schedule. He'd be damned if he'd admit that to Melodi's former lover.
"Look Joe, I think what's going on has a simple explanation. I've been sick. Melodi has been working too hard. There's nothing mystical in that." He kept his voice even, though the desire to shout his denial of everything Joe said rose up in his throat.
"It doesn't matter whether you believe or not." Joe's voice held a hint of sadness. "Grandfather believes the two of you have been brought together to complete a spirit journey that was cut off, unfulfilled, at an earlier time. He also senses an evil presence that could keep you from completing the circle. It could pull you out of this world."
"You're talking nonsense. I called to apologize for my earlier remarks. I am sorry if I offended you, but that doesn't make me a mark for transformation, or whatever you're proposing."
"What you want or believe has little to do with it." Joe sighed. "Please, just do what I ask. Keep Melodi close to you during the dark hours. Whatever you do, don't play that tune again. Grandfather and I will be there at first light." He ended the conversation by cutting the connection.
Melodi was polishing off the sweet confection on her plate when Darien turned back to her. Her eyes twinkled with speculation, having heard only one side of the conversation she had to guess at what Joe said. Darien wasted no time in filling her in.
"I respect Joe and his grandfather," Melodi said when he finished. "Especially Grandfather. Whatever your personal beliefs may be, that man carries wisdom and strength that comes from deep within himself. He's dedicated his life to the spiritual well-being of his people." She paused. "Though I have an understanding of Penobscot mythology and history, I have no intention of spending another night under the same roof as you"
"Scared?" Darien taunted.
"Of what, you? Don't flatter yourself." Scared of my own reactions to you, Melodi thought with a tremor. "I don't see what night or day has to do with the phenomenon. True, I have experienced it more than you, and in the evening hours. But the other day it was full morning when you heard the tune and fainted."
Darien attacked the food in front of him while he considered her remarks. The tune remained the key. Their brief discussion with Joe at the University had shed no light on where it might have come from.
That tune Joe had played, the courtship song, that had promise. How it would translate into a composition for modern ins
truments? It gave him a whole new perspective on writing music. Maybe he could incorporate some ancient sounds into his newer ones.
"Darien? You're wandering without benefit of the tune. Come back."
He looked into Melodi's grinning face. It was a nice face. He wanted to touch it and taste it again. His fingers twitched. He wanted to gain her trust. Making another pass at her wasn't the way to go about it.
Instead, he spoke about music. "I was thinking about the flute melody Joe played for us. It was similar to the tune we know, but an essential quality was missing. When you played our tune in that acoustically perfect room, it was still beautiful, but had lost its power to move us. Why?"
"Could it have something to do with this place?" Melodi ventured. "If we are experiencing some kind of 'soul-cycle' that's reached us from thousands of years ago, perhaps the land itself remembers."
Darien strove to keep the skepticism from his voice. "I'm not sure I subscribe to that. I do know that ever since we left here this morning, something tugged at me to return."
"You felt that, too? I thought it was just my romantic nature taking over," Melodi said. "There have been times in the course of my studies when my friends and even colleagues have accused me of romanticizing the past, of not being objective enough about it. That's why this dissertation is so important to me. It's derived strictly from hard data. Except for a certain amount of scholarly speculation, my main theory is based on facts. Once it's accepted, I'll be able to shake off the reputation of not being a serious scholar."
Melodi's intensity grabbed Darien. It reflected the same passion he felt when he sang, the same emotion he'd experienced fleetingly this afternoon while composing. He understood the degree of importance Melodi placed on her dissertation, but couldn't help but wonder if she'd lost something in the process. She had a sense of humor and a lightness of being that he couldn't quite identify, but she focused all her energy on her work. Didn't she ever have fun? He pushed that aside for the moment and remembered the other reason he'd baked today.
"Look." Darien pulled two folded sheets of paper from his pocket and smoothed them on the table between them.
"I saw you at the piano this afternoon, is this what you were working on?"
"I wasn't sure I had it in me," Darien confessed. "This started coming to me and I couldn't stop it. It had to be written down."
Melodi smiled, then the light left her face. "Will you be singing this?" she asked, her voice quiet.
No one but his doctor and his agent knew that he would never sing in public again. Somehow Melodi had guessed.
He shook his head. Echoing her quiet tones, he said, "That part of my career is over. You'll be happy to know that the worst of my illness is over too. You can quit threatening me with the hospital."
"I was only guessing," Melodi said, her voice devoid of sympathy.
Darien silently thanked her for that; pity was something he could do without.
"Curiosity won out," she continued. "I'm a researcher by education and inclination and you presented me with a mystery. The information I could glean was sketchy and Doc kept your conversation to himself. In spite of that, I came up with an educated guess that you wouldn't hide in the wilds of Maine, canceling a prearranged concert tour, unless you had a serious problem. Is it permanent?"
Darien caught a glimpse of acceptance and understanding strength in Melodi's eyes. He held onto that vision.
"Yes."
She nodded, "Then it looks like you've made a good start on a new, improved Darien Stewart. When can I hear it? Have you got lyrics yet?"
Melodi turned the conversation to the future. Darien put his past behind him. Sure he had regrets, regrets now tinged with excitement. The anticipation of climbing back on the ladder and fighting his way to the top again acted like a tonic to his bruised ego.
"Grab your recorder and come up to the house with me. Help me celebrate, Melodi."
How could she refuse? They had just bared a good portion of their deeper selves to each other. A soothing sense of destiny flashed through Melodi. Sharing this moment with Darien was -- right.
It wasn't every day that a person had a soul-defining moment. She was honored. Okay, so maybe she just happened to be the only person around for him to talk to. Even with that, something vibrated between them. Something that warred with, yet at the same time complimented, the way she saw him.
"Let's go." Her smile matched his as they left the cottage.
"You must have been pretty sure of me," Melodi said moments later as they entered the kitchen. A tray of crackers and cheese sat close by a bottle of wine on the table. She found his optimism amusing. He'd gone to a lot of trouble on a long shot.
"Let's just say hopeful. Come on, it will only take me a moment to get the fire going again." He picked up the tray. Melodi followed him down the hallway with the bottle and glasses.
The firelight cast an intimate glow over the room. Darien sat at the piano bench and pulled Melodi down beside him.
Hesitantly at first, then with more confidence, he played his new song. The first time through he played it as written. After that he embellished, adding more rhythm here, another chord there.
Melodi listened intently through the first run-through. Then she put her recorder to her mouth and played the main melody to Darien's counterpoint.
In a lyrical flight, the flute-like song from Melodi's instrument flew around and drew out the fire of Darien's piano playing. At last he stopped. His fingers remained motionless on the keys while the recorder played his song. It rose softly on the last note, then quivered into silence.
Melodi's breath quickened now that the song was over. Darien's thigh pressed hers with a casual intimacy that set her heart pounding. She dared not look him in the eye, she felt open, without protection.
His music had touched a chord in her, different yet similar to the song of her mind. This music pulled her body to his -- set her on fire because it was from him. She couldn't sit next to him any longer. Her hands trembled, the recorder gripped between them. Any minute now he'd notice.
"Hungry?" She rose and attacked the crackers and cheese.
"First tell me if you liked it." Darien remained motionless at the piano as if only Melodi's opinion could release him.
Melodi stared into the fire before she answered. A flippant remark touched her lips, but she could not treat this matter lightly. Not only her were own feelings involved, but Darien's confidence as well.
"Thank you for letting me be the first to hear it and play it with you. I loved it."
Her sincerity released Darien. He joined her on the couch and poured them both a glass of golden wine.
"A toast to many more," Melodi offered before Darien could speak.
He clinked his glass against hers. A crystal note sang out at the touch and grew. Melodi looked at Darien. Had he heard it, felt it?
The tune, her tune, grew out of that pure note. It started soft yet clear, and expanded until it surrounded the fire and the sofa. The air around them swelled with the sound. Magic, destiny, caressed her.
"Darien," she whispered.
He held her free hand. "I hear it. Look, the room, it's starting to fade."
"Don't let go of me," Melodi pleaded. She felt no fear, just uncertainty.
Darien's warm hand gripped hers. "I'm here. My god, look at the fog. The same pearly fog as before."
Melodi shivered. The sofa, the glasses, the fireplace all disappeared. The only thing left was Darien and the soft light diffusing through the surrounding fog.
Chapter Eight
The deep mist lifted. Scents arrived on a gentle breeze. Cedar trees, fresh grass, and heated rocks dazzled Melodi's sense of smell. She turned to Darien and started in surprise. The eyes were his, and the face, but nothing else.
"Darien?"
His clothes were tanned hide. "Clothes" described the loincloth wrapped around his waist and hips. His hair glistened in long plaits. Muscular tanned arms sprang from well-developed shoul
ders. Deerskin wrapped his legs; decorated moccasins covered his feet.
"Melodi, you're here, but different. I should be calling you something else. You are -- Little Raccoon, and I am," he paused. Wonder and eagerness warred with each other. "I am Walks With The Wind."
"Pinch me," Melodi ordered.
Darien laughed and pulled her into his arms instead. She struggled but only for a moment.
"You want to know if this is a hallucination? I feel more alive now than I ever have before. No, I will not pinch you. Feel this instead," he said.
His arms tightened around her. Her nipples peaked on the hardness of his chest. This was real. Her heartbeat fluttered a counterpoint to the steady beating in Darien's chest. Their lips were close. Melodi waited for the kiss that she craved, but it didn't come. At least not at once. Instead, a flicker of soft warmth teased her as his tongue traced the outline of her mouth.
As his lips feathered onto hers, Melodi's senses sharpened. The sunlight burned like fire onto her head -- the ground beneath them cradled her with the strength of Nature's bounty -- the giggling banter of the stream as it skittered its way to the ocean -- all these things clarified into this instant.
No less was she aware of Darien. Where her hands touched his back, they found smooth skin over taut muscles. His skin carried the memory of wood fire and warm summer breezes accented by a faint scent of musk that dizzied her. As his mouth plundered hers, her soul rose to meet his on a flight at once grounded in the earth and one with the sky.
If she was dreaming, she's happily stay asleep in this little piece of paradise.
She didn't resist as Darien laid her back on the soft grass. Whereas she had fought against her attraction to him in the house, she had no desire to do so here. They were meant to be lovers at this time and in this place.
Her last shred of composure fled as Melodi opened her mouth to Darien's searching. He groaned at her surrender and pulled away to stare into her eyes. Perhaps he was looking for an answer, or a prayer. His mouth opened as if to speak. Whatever he asked for, Melodi knew she would grant without reservation. The sun seemed to stop as she waited for his words; his soul touched hers through their gaze.
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