But after the terrible Invictus massacre that had stripped Ethan of his family, the stream had mysteriously dried up. No one, in any of the Nine Realms, understood the cause, though the most powerful of the fae, like Vojalie, had detected an ancient fae magic at the top of the now-non-existent waterfall, near the eastern monolith of the gorge.
Vojalie had shared some of her thoughts before leaving Ethan’s house, that she had for a long time believed that an unknown, but very powerful fae had magically dammed up the stream and turned what used to be a lush resort into an abandoned, overgrown, weedy hollow.
As Samantha mulled this over, something within her faeness knew Vojalie was right and now it would seem that the increase in Invictus pairs and the strange disappearance of the stream might just be connected.
Each time Samantha thought of the recent vision that involved Sweet Gorge, she had a strong prescience that something critical would soon take place there and that she would have a role to play as well.
She shivered slightly as she considered the possibility of being more and more involved in Bergisson.
You okay? Ethan pathed.
You could sense that?
She felt him sigh as he shifted to fly around an old tree stump. My frequency is tuned into you now. It’s hard not to know what you’re feeling one minute out of two.
She could feel his distress as well, his concern for her and his ever-present anxiety about Bergisson. I know what you mean. I’ll try to calm my thoughts for now.
Probably a good idea.
She did just that, and gave herself to the phenomenal experience of flying through his realm, held so firmly within his arms, and moving at a swift pace through a variety of terrain from woodland, to pasture, from hamlet to town. Crossing Bergisson river sent a cool sweep of moist air flowing over her, which felt wonderful.
Finally, the Guildhall grounds, from the day before, came into view. Today, all the tents were gone and only a handful of cars dotted the parking lot.
He moved slower on descent.
The female figure, on top of the highest building dome, moved slightly with the breeze, the metal wings free to swing back and forth.
As he flew her to the double-arched doors, standing wide with lights mounted on either side, several women entered the building.
I’m glad you’re with me, she pathed.
I am, too. I’m feeling what you’re feeling, that the Guildhall has meaning to you and that I should be with you as well. This was the right choice. I didn’t mean to seem so harsh earlier.
Well, I’m sure that won’t be the first bump we encounter.
He chuckled softly, a good sign, as he touched down and brought her onto the light-colored pavers in front of the doorway.
Though she’d been in the building briefly the night before, she hadn’t explored the depths of the building, which she understood contained a variety of rooms meant only for fae use.
When the Invictus had attacked, the realm-folk had filed quickly and quietly, by long habit, into a vast underground system that had several secret, guarded exits well over a half mile distant in some places. Vojalie had told her that if necessary, she and several of the fae, could have gotten everyone to safety. But they were reluctant to expose these tunnels because of the Invictus and the possibility of traitors like Ry.
Vojalie, who had gone on ahead by just a few minutes to arrange the use of the central domed room, waved a greeting at the top of a short flight of carpeted stairs. The building was very quiet.
As Samantha mounted the stairs, she became acutely aware of Ethan, that he stood right behind her, very close, one hand on her hip. She felt his possessive need of her like waves of heat pouring off sun-drenched rocks.
She looked up at him and he met and held her gaze. It’s always there, this desire between us, this need.
He smiled ruefully. Yeah, it is.
His personal frequency reached for her and sent fingers touching places within her own fae frequency that ignited a sudden desire of her own. He didn’t try to communicate telepathically and in this moment anything verbal wasn’t necessary at all.
In so many ways, her situation with Ethan, with being a blood rose and a powerful fae, had complicated her life in ways she was just beginning to understand.
*** *** ***
Ethan had been in the fae-guild many times, especially the main banqueting hall for their annual dinners. But he could count on one hand the times he’d been upstairs, the place the powerful fae of his realm gathered to restore themselves, to refresh their power, to discover new abilities.
As Mastyr of Bergisson, he could go anywhere he liked. No door was closed to him, including the central meeting room, which the fae treated with deep respect. Both he and Samantha moved around the space, though in opposite directions.
The holiest of holies traveled in a circle around a central domed ceiling. In the center of that dome another portion of the ceiling rose an additional twenty feet, which made up the minaret, visible from outside.
What couldn’t be seen clearly, unless a person flew directly overhead, was the roof of the minaret, on which the winged woman stood. Thick, clear crystal, in an intricate pattern, constructed this portion of the Guildhall, visible only from inside the room.
Vojalie had once told him that great power could come from the right fae standing beneath all that crystal. But even she didn’t possess that kind of power. Whether Andrea, with abilities acknowledged to match Vojalie’s, could have accessed the power of the crystal would never be known since Andrea had refused testing repeatedly.
Vojalie said that during the day the sunlight shone in a kaleidoscope pattern, shifting as the sun moved overhead. At night, given the lit wall sconces that surrounded the large circular area, no patterns emerged. He imagined only during a very bright moon, at exactly the right angle, significant designs would emerge, and only then if all the lights were out.
“Ethan?” She called to him from across the room. Vojalie stood near the central circle.
He turned toward Samantha, who smiled as she held her hand out to him. He moved toward her as though by a familiar path that his feet had known for centuries. He took her extended hand. “What is it? Everything okay?”
“Yes, of course. Vojalie said you could do this with me. She even thought I might need your help.”
He glanced up at the crystal ceiling. “She wants you tested? Right now?”
“Yes. Do you have a problem with that?”
He shook his head slowly. “No, I suppose not.” Vojalie was in charge of this part of the show, but his reticence came from the significance of the test.
He crossed with her, heading toward Vojalie and stepping down into a second circular tiled area in the center of the room, sunken by about a half foot.