Kith-Kanan was surprised by the loathing they all expressed. Deciding it did not behoove him to anger Mackeli’s friends, he changed the subject. “Braveheart, how did you come by your name?”
Braveheart gestured to White-Lock. Kith-Kanan wondered if he’d committed another social breach by inquiring about the Kagonesti’s name. White-Lock, though, didn’t seem upset. He answered, “Braveheart was born mute, but his skill as a hunter and fighter earned him his adult name.” Amusement danced in the hunter’s eyes. “Are all your people so curious, Kith?”
Kith-Kanan looked chagrined. “No, White-Lock. My curiosity has gotten me in trouble before.”
They all laughed, and the four Kagonesti hunters stood up. White-Lock brought his hands up to cover his heart and then held them out palms-up, first to Mackeli and then to Kith-Kanan. The boy and the prince returned the gesture.
“The blessings of Astarin upon you both,” White-Lock said warmly. “Give our respects to the keeper.”
“We shall, White-Lock. Blessings upon you all,” Mackeli returned.
“Good-bye” Kith-Kanan called after them. With a last wave from Otter, the hunters disappeared into the forest.
Mackeli gathered up the uneaten food and stowed it back in the tree. Kith-Kanan remained standing, looking after the departed Kagonesti.
“They’re a strange lot,” Kith-Kanan mused aloud. “And they certainly don’t care for their more ‘settled’ brothers. I thought the others I met were a lot less primitive.” He chuckled. “And the way they talked about Anaya—as if she were a goddess!”
“They are good elves,” Mackeli said when he returned. “They only want to live in peace with the forest, as they have for centuries. But most humans treat them like savages.” The green eyes that looked up at Kith-Kanan were hard. “And from what you’ve told me about your people, the Silvanesti do no better.”
Several more weeks went by. The episode of the Kagonesti stayed with Kith-Kanan, and he continued to think on Mackeli’s words. However, he was growing more and more worried about Anaya. He questioned Mackeli, but the boy remained unconcerned. Though Kith-Kanan knew she could take care of herself, he still fretted. At night, he began to dream of her deep in the woods, calling to him, saying his name over and over. He would then follow her voice through the black forest, but just when he thought he’d found her, he would wake up. It was frustrating.
After a time Anaya began to monopolize his waking thoughts as well. The prince had told her he was her friend. Was it more than that? What Kith-Kanan felt for the Kagonesti woman was certainly different from what he felt for Mackeli. Could he be in love with her? They had barely gotten to know each other before she’d disappeared. But still the prince worried about her, and dreamed about her, and missed her.
Kith-Kanan and Mackeli were sleeping outside the tree one pleasant night. The prince slept deeply and, for once, dreamlessly—until something unseen tugged at his mind. He opened his eyes and sat bolt-upright, turning his head from side to side. It was as if a sudden clap of thunder had wakened him. Yet Mackeli slept on beside him. Night creatures chirped and whirred softly in the forest, also undisturbed.
Kith-Kanan straightened his tunic—for he slept fully clothed—and lay back down. He was completely awake when the nameless something called to him once more. Drawn by something he couldn’t see, the prince got up and crossed the clearing. The going was not easy, since the silver moon had set and the red moon was almost down. It was an eerie crimson orb just barely visible through the trees.
Kith-Kanan followed the path to the spring. Whatever was pulling him brought him to that place, but when he arrived, there seemed to be no one around. He dipped a hand in the cold water and threw it on his face.
As the Silvanesti prince stared at his reflection in the pool, a second dark image appeared in the water next to it. Kith-Kanan leaped back and turned, his hand on his dagger hilt. It was Anaya, standing a few feet away.
“Anaya!” he uttered with relief. “You’re all right. Where have you been?”
“You called me,” she said evenly. Her eyes seemed to have a light of their own. “Your call was very strong. I couldn’t stay away, no matter how I tried.”
Kith-Kanan shook his head. “I don’t understand,” he said truthfully.
She stepped closer and looked up into his eyes. Her unpainted face was beautiful in the red moonlight. “Your heart spoke to mine, Kith, and I could not refuse to come. We were drawn together.”
At that moment, Kith-Kanan thought he did understand. The idea that hearts could speak to each other was something he had heard about. His people were said to be able to perform a mysterious summons known as “the Call.” It was said to work over great distances and was reputed to be irresistible. Yet Kith-Kanan had never known anyone who had actually done it.
He stepped closer and put a hand to her cheek. Anaya was trembling.
“Are you afraid?” he asked quietly.
“I have never felt like this before,” she whispered.
“How do you feel?”
“I want to run!” she declared loudly. But she didn’t move an inch.
“You called to me too, you know. I was asleep in the clearing just now and something woke me, something drew me down here to the spring. I couldn’t resist it.” Her cheek was warm, despite the coolness of the night. He cupped it in his hand. “Anaya, I have been so worried about you. When you didn’t come back, I thought something might have happened to you.”
“Something did,” she replied softly. “All these weeks, I have been meditating and thinking of you. So many feelings were tumbling inside of me.”
“I have been troubled also,” the prince confessed. “I’ve lain awake at night trying to sort out my feelings.” He smiled at her. “You’ve even intruded on my dreams, Anaya.”
Her face twisted in pain. “It isn’t right.”
“Why not? Am I so unappealing?”
“I am born of the forest! For ten times the length of your life I have lived in the Wildwood, on my own and of my own. I did not take Mackeli until a short time ago.”
“Take Mackeli? Then, he is not your brother by blood, is he?”
Anaya looked at Kith-Kanan desperately. “No. I took him from a farmer’s house. I was lonely. I needed someone to talk to….”
The emptiness in her eyes, the pain in her voice, touched Kith-Kanan’s heart. He gripped Anaya’s shoulders with both hands. In return, she put her arms around his waist and embraced him passionately.
After a moment, Anaya pulled back and said softly, “I want to show you something.” She stepped into the pool.
“Where are we going?” he asked as he joined her in the cool spring.
“To my secret place.” She took his hand and warned, “Don’t let go.”
They slid under the water’s surface. It was as cold and as black as Takhisis’s heart in the pool, but Anaya swam down, kicking with her feet. Something hard brushed Kith-Kanan’s shoulder; he put a hand out and felt solid rock. They were in a tunnel. After a moment, Anaya planted her feet on the bottom and thrust upward. Kith-Kanan let himself be pulled along. Suddenly their heads broke the surface.
Treading water, Kith-Kanan looked around in wonder. A soft, white light illuminated a vaulted ceiling that rose some fifteen feet above the pool’s surface. The ceiling was smooth and pure white. All around the edge of the vault were painted the most beautiful murals Kith-Kanan had ever seen. They showed a variety of woodland scenes: misty glens, roaring waterfalls, and deep, dark forests.
“Come,” Anaya said, drawing him along by the hand. He kicked forward until his toes bumped rock. It was not the sloping bottom of a natural pool. Kith-Kanan felt round-nosed steps cut into the rock as he and Anaya climbed out of the water.
The steps and floor of the cave were made of the same stone as the ceiling, a glassy white rock Kith-Kanan couldn’t identify.