“Then…it’s not mine?” It hurt to consider it. The garden had been her friend most of her life.
“Of course it’s yours. It wouldn’t be here if it didn’t resonate with you.”
“Then what are you saying?”
Something in the air between them. Something in Glorianna’s eyes. Compassion? Knowledge? Caitlin couldn’t put a name to it, but she understood with unshakable certainty that whatever happened in the next minute would change her life—and would change the world.
“I think you should find out where this garden is rooted. Where you’re rooted. It isn’t here, Caitlin Marie. I’m not even sure this is one of your landscapes. This village and the surrounding land should be one of the pieces of the world that is in your keeping, but something isn’t right here. And I don’t think this is really home.”
“No,” Caitlin whispered. “It’s not. We never quite fit in Raven’s Hill.” A different place where the other girls wouldn’t see her as a sorceress and the boys wouldn’t think of her as the new village whore? “How do I find this place?”
“Let’s take a look inside the garden.”
Michael was the only person who had seen her garden—and Michael hadn’t understood. This was different, exciting, strange, terrifying.
“At this time of year, it’s not at its best,” Caitlin said, twisting her fingers as Glorianna studied each bed.
“No, it’s not,” Glorianna said absently. “You’ll have to work on that. You want balance reflected through the seasons, just as you want a balance between the currents of Light and Dark. This.” She stopped in front of a stone. “This came from the White Isle.”
Caitlin gaped for a moment. “How can you tell?”
“I can feel the island’s resonance in the stone.” Glorianna studied the stone a moment longer, then looked at Caitlin. “Why did you put it here in the garden?”
Flustered, Caitlin felt her face burn. “My aunt Brighid used to tell me about the White Isle and about Lighthaven, which is the heart of the island. For a while she thought I might be accepted into training there, but…”
“You don’t belong to Lighthaven,” Glorianna said with such careless certainty it took a long moment before Caitlin felt the pain of that statement. Then Glorianna looked at her and she had the same light-headed feeling that the world was changing right under her feet. “Lighthaven may hold the Light, and it may provide you with a place to rest and renew the spirit, but I think you’ll find the heart of the White Isle in a different place.”
My place. The yearning that swept through her was so fierce, she felt as if she could ride that sensation to another place. Another life.
“No no no,” Glorianna snapped, grabbing her and giving her a hard shake. “You haven’t been trained yet to take the step between here and there. And since none of us knows where this garden actually stands, we’d have no way to find you.”
Grounded. Jammed back into her skin. Shoved back into this village that deadened her heart.
“You should have let me go,” Caitlin whispered.
“Not yet,” Glorianna whispered back. Then she stepped away and said briskly, “Let’s take a look at the rest.”
“Not much left of it, is there?” Lee said, shielding his eyes as he studied the remains of the cottage.
“No, not much left,” Michael said. The winter clothes he’d be needing soon. The books he’d carefully selected and scrimped to buy so that he could share them with Aunt Brighid and Caitlin. The little treasures he’d accumulated over the years and couldn’t carry with him. All gone. His life, his boyhood, all burned away.
Nothing left of me here, he thought. Nothing left for me here. Except, hopefully, my father’s legacy.
Stepping around broken, burned timbers, Michael looked up at the one corner that still appeared to be fairly intact. But even if they hadn’t been touched by the fire itself, would the books have survived?
Only one way to find out.
“If we can steady a ladder up to that spot, I think I can get what I’m looking for,” Michael said.
“We can set a ladder up there right enough,” Nathan said, “but it won’t take much to have the rest of this place coming down on us.”
“It will hold long enough,” Michael said softly, pouring every drop of his luck-bringing into those words. A dark tune playing here. The same tune he’d heard during the years he’d lived in the cottage, with only a sprinkle of bright notes coming from Nathan. Just like always.
Lee met his eyes for a moment, then helped Nathan and Kenneday find the most solid spot for the ladder.
Oh, the wood was weak and trembled under his feet when he eased his way across what was left of the attic. A board cracked ominously as he pulled the box out of its special cupboard. Carrying the whole box would add too much weight to his own—and the image of Rory Calhoun impaled on stone suddenly filled his mind. Two boys were saved by the death of another. He didn’t want to repeat that particular tune by saving the books but dying in the process.
“Lee,” he called. “Come up the ladder so I can hand these over to you.” He opened the box and took the books out one at a time, stretching as far as he could and moving as little as possible to pass the books to Lee who, in turn, handed them down to Nathan and Kenneday.
“Careful,” Lee said as Michael finally eased his way back to the ladder.
Wood creaked and groaned as Michael started down. The wood supporting the top of the ladder suddenly broke, and he might have fallen among all the broken timbers if Lee and Nathan hadn’t been holding the ladder steady.
“Go,” Lee said, looking at Nathan. Kenneday was already outside, his arms full of books.
Nathan shook his head. “He said it would hold until we were safely away, so it will hold.”
As soon as Michael had both feet on the floor, Nathan took one end of the ladder and Lee took the other. He followed them out, and as he cleared what had been the threshold of the front door, the cottage gave out a sound of creaking, wailing, agonized groaning.
Lady’s mercy, Michael thought as the rest of the roof and attic flooring that had supported the box of books came crashing down.
“I told you it would hold long enough,” Nathan said to Lee. Then he looked at Michael. “What comes next?”
Michael shook his head and watched the two women walking toward them. Glorianna looked upset. Caitlin looked dazed, like she’d tumbled into a tree while running flat out. “I think what comes next is up to them.”
“Aunt Brighid,” Caitlin said, lightly brushing her fingers over her aunt’s hand. “Auntie, it’s me. Caitlin Marie.”
Not so bad, the doctor had said. The cuts and burns had not been significant, and Brighid was a strong woman.
It looked bad enough to her.
Then Brighid stirred, opened her eyes. “Caitlin?” Her hand shook as she raised it to touch Caitlin’s face. “Caitlin Marie? I saw you disappear. I saw…”
“I know,” Caitlin said hurriedly. “I know. But I found a way back. Michael, too. He’s here. See?” She half turned in the chair by the bed and looked up at her brother.
“Aunt Brighid,” Michael said.
“You came,” Brighid said. “You got my message?”
“Yes,” he replied.
Currents of power suddenly flowed through the room as the third person moved to a position at the end of the bed where she would be clearly visible.
Caitlin watched, helpless to understand what was happening while Brighid and Glorianna stared at each other.
“I am Belladonna.”
Brighid sucked in a breath and coughed it out, a rasping sound. “You’re a sorceress like Caitlin, aren’t you?”
“I’m a Landscaper, like Caitlin,” Glorianna replied. “We are the bedrock that protects Ephemera from the human heart.”
“Lady of Light,” Brighid whispered. “You…could show her who she’s meant to be?”
“I can show her.”
“There’s nothing for her here.”