By the time they were ready to notice anything beyond each other, the sun was already high enough to peep over the shattered walls and into the ruined temple. Anvar sighed contentedly and reached over to brush a wayward curl from Aurian’s glowing cheek. “You were well worth waiting for,” he murmured softly into her ear.
Aurian grinned wickedly, “Suddenly, I can’t imagine why I made you wait so long!”
“You weren’t ready, my love,” Anvar said seriously-then he grinned back at her. “Apart, of course, from being the most irritating, stubborn, contrary wretch—”
“Well, of all the nerve!” Aurian spluttered—but he stilled her protest with a kiss.
“What happened to the child?” he asked her, when they could breathe again.
For an instant, Aurian’s expression clouded—then she lifted her chin determinedly.
“He’s beautiful,” she said firmly. “And he’ll be all right, I know he will, just as soon as we work out a way to get Miathan’s curse lifted.”
Anvar listened, with increasing sadness and concern, as Aurian told him about Wolf. He was about to reply, when:
“Welcome back, Anvar!” The voice in his mind came from Shia, of course, and Aurian’s wry smile told him that she was listening, too. “Aurian—I should warn you that they have started to look for you,” the great cat went on, and then her voice grew smug. “Otherwise, of course, I should never have dreamed of interrupting you—”
“You were listening!” Anvar felt his face growing warm, and looking across at Aurian, he saw her blushing, too.
“One could hardly help but hear you,” Shia snorted. “I would say that your emotions were broadcasting clear to the lands of the Xandim!” Her mental voice grew softer as she stopped teasing them, “I am so very happy for you both. Unfortunately, the world will not wait for you. Raven wants to talk—”
“All right, we’re coming,” Aurian sighed resignedly. “That is, as soon as we can flag down some Winged Polk to bring us across,” She rolled over, and swore, “Ouch! What on earth am I lying on?”
“Oh gods,” yelped Anvar in dismay, “It went right out of my mind. The Harp, Aurian! I have the Harp of Winds!”
“What?” Aurian yelled. “Why the bloody blazes didn’t you tell me before?”
Anvar grinned, “Well, I was somewhat distracted before . . . Here, let’s get some clothes on before we freeze, and I’ll show it to you.
“First things first,” Anvar returned the Staff of Earth to Aurian with a flourish, “I believe this belongs to you, Lady.”
Aurian’s expression of joy and relief as she took the Staff made Anvar smile. Then he held out the Harp to her, and her eyes went wide with wonder as she beheld its shimmering beauty.
“Oh, Anvar , . .”
Aurian reached out to take the Harp of Winds—and as she did so, Anvar was seized with a strange and powerful reluctance to let the Artifact out of his hands. The Harp too seemed to object to a change of ownership. Jangling vibrations ran through Anvar’s body as it thrummed discordantly. “No . . .” it sang to him. “No!” Almost of its own volition, it seemed to jerk away from Aurian’s outstretched hands, and Anvar went rigid with alarm as he saw her frown. A shadow seemed to fall between them . . . Then Aurian relaxed, and shook her head with a wry grimace. Once, more they stood in sunlight, and Anvar breathed again.
“Well, it certainly knows what it wants—and that doesn’t seem to be me,” said Aurian ruefully. “How daft of me—I should have known. Everything fits, Anvar. You won the Harp, just as I won the Staff—and frankly, of the two of us, you’re the musician.” She took a deep breath. “It couldn’t have worked out more perfectly.”
Anvar was amazed and humbled by such generosity of spirit. “But you were supposed to find the Artifacts,” he protested. Aurian shook her head, “No one ever said that, neither the Dragon nor the Leviathan. They just said that all three were needed. The Dragon did say that the Sword would be mine, but as for the others . . . Anvar, I’m truly glad you have the Harp. After what we’ve just shared, I couldn’t bear to think of the Artifacts coming between us,”
Anvar hugged her—gods, it seemed that he couldn’t get enough of touching her. “You’ll be able to use the Harp, if need be,” he promised, “I’ll make it behave—it’s just that it’s new to me yet.”
Aurian nodded gravely. “I know just what you mean. When I think of the struggle I had to master the Staff at first . . ,”
She sighed. “And speaking of struggles, it’s time we were moving. We need to have matters out with Raven, then I must get back to Wolf. And if we can enlist the help of the Xandim ...” She hesitated, her green eyes seeming to look far off into the distance.
“Then what?” Anvar prompted gently.
Aurian’s expression grew hard. “Then we go back north, to Nexis—and deal with Miathan once and for all—and Eliseth.” She shivered. “Gods, I’m so sick and tired of this endless winter of hers.”
Suddenly, Anvar had a wonderful idea. He was so brimful of wonder, and joy, at Aurian having accepted their love at last, that he wanted to give her something—some great, and wonderful, and special gift ... He turned to the Mage and grinned. “Your wish,” he said cheerfully, “is my command.” And lifting the Harp of Winds, he began to play. The wild, unearthly starsong of the Harp swirled forth, as the power of the High Magic pulsed through Anvar and went spiraling out into the world. High on the roof of the world, the snow of Eliseth’s winter began to melt, and the thaw spread out and out, across the territory of the cats and the lands of the Xandim. In the Jeweled Desert, the lethal, raging sandstorms faltered, and gem dust fell to earth like pattering rain. Warm winds alive with shimmering music spread across the ocean, as spring, at Anvar’s behest, came to the north-lands at last.
As Aurian realized what Anvar was doing, a slow smile spread across her face. For an instant, she remembered the filthy, beaten, cowering servant she had rescued so long ago, and she thought her heart would burst with love and pride. And she too wanted to give him a token of her love.
Putting a hand on Anvar’s shoulder as he played, Aurian summoned the powers of the Staff of Earth, and placed its heel upon the ground. And as its emerald radiance blazed forth, the mountains and the lands beyond grew green. Trees burst into leaf and blossom, and flowers sprang up beneath them, cloaking the earth in vibrant hues as chains of sorrowing winter fell away, and the land, like her heart, was reborn.
Aurian’s mind was awhirl with exultation. She grinned, imagining the wrath of the Archmage. Though much remained to be done, at last, at long last, she and Anvar had struck the first real blow against Miathan,
And far away to the north, in a high tower in the city of Nexis, Eliseth trembled.