Darkfest. Part 1

DARKFEST.

By Amanda Ashley.

For all those who patiently -And not so patiently- Urged me to finish this tale, I hope you're as happy with The results as I am.

And especially for Ethan and Monique- I couldn't have done it Without you.

PROLOGUE.

They were afraid of him, but then, as far back as he could remember, people had been afraid of him. Even his mother had looked upon him with a certain measure of fear. He had learned to walk when he was but six months old, could converse with his elders by the time he was two, could turn water into ale at three.

As a child, he had not understood the amazement of his elders. He had thought all males were as gifted as he. He had been well and truly surprised to discover that those he came in contact with could not read his mind as he read theirs. His playmates, though few, stood in awe of his ability to create fire and summon thunder at his will.

He had cherished his unique powers, not knowing that, as time pa.s.sed, those who knew him would come to fear him, while others who were hungry for power would go to any and all lengths to learn the secret of his awesome powers, his eternal youth. Feared and held in suspicion by those who knew him, pursued by those who would steal his power, his very life, he had taken refuge inside his father's keep.

Now, three hundred years later, all those he had known in his youth were gone, and he alone remained, shut up in a prison of his own making at the top of a high mountain.

CHAPTER 1.

A distant land before recorded time.

It was midnight on the Eve of First Harvest and he stood alone on a rocky pinnacle of his high mountain, watching the villagers far below as they danced around a fire blazing in the middle of the square.No mere mortal could have discerned aught but the flames, but the wizard of Darkfest Keep could clearly see the face and form of each man, woman, and child, hear their songs of joy, their shouts of carefree laughter. He saw Adair, the cooper, flirting with a woman who was not his wife, saw young Muggins slip quietly into the shadows with the blacksmith's daughter. Old Henrew was telling ribald stories to a handful of young men, while Alys the midwife sat apart from the others telling a young maid's fortune.Such foolishness, the wizard mused, singing and dancing during the dark of the moon. He could have told them that all the singing in the world would not protect their crops from weevils or drought, or ensure a bountiful harvest. Dancing barefoot in the dirt would not make their women fertile, but who was he to vanquish their hopes and dreams, foolish though they might be?And when the crops failed and the clouds withheld their moisture, the villagers would take their courage in hand and climb the narrow rocky mountain path to his door. Cowering with fear, careful not to meet his gaze, they would plead for his help. They would bring him golden ears of corn and flasks of spiced wine, a lamb without blemish, the meager contents of the town's treasury. They would grant him homage and beg for his mercy. And if it suited his mood, he would accept their offerings and grant their boon, and they would hurry away, never meeting his eyes, careful to keep him from seeing that they made the sign against evil behind his back.Their fear amused him. He possessed many strange and wondrous powers, but, awesome as his talents might be, even he could not perform all the mystical feats of which they believed him capable.The sound of lute and tambourine floated toward him, borne on the wings of a gentle east wind. And then he heard a voice, her voice, as light as morning dew, as clear as crystal ice. A lovely voice that threaded through the darkness and twined around his soul like a fine silken web.Channa Leigh's voice.It tugged at him, pulling him nearer the edge of the precipice on which he stood, tantalizing him, calling to something deep within his soul as it did each time he heard it. He saw her clearly, sitting on the edge of the well in the center of the village square. Her father, Dugald of Brynn, stood near her side, proud and protective, but Darkfest had eyes only for the fair Channa Leigh. She wore a white ap.r.o.n over a simple blue dress. Her hair, as bright as the sun on a summer day, fell in rippling waves down her back and over her shoulders, glistening in the firelight like a river of molten gold.This night, her voice beckoned him as never before. Unable to resist, eager to more closely behold the face of the one blessed with the voice of an angel, he gathered his power close around him. He felt it coalesce and he drew it close, feeling it surround him, and then he stepped out into the darkness of s.p.a.ce, his body falling like a leaf from a tree, changing from wizard to wolf as he drifted downward to land, as light as dandelion down, on the ground.

"Sing another, Channa Leigh.""Aye, la.s.s, give us another!"Channa Leigh smiled as the crowd gathered around her urged her to sing another song. Singing was her one true love, her sole reason for living. Locked in a world of darkness, she had only her music to light her days.Hands clasped to her breast, she began to sing again, an ancient lullaby she had often heard her mother sing. A hush fell over the crowd, and even the rowdy young men near the tavern fell silent, until the only sound to be heard was her voice, the notes strong and true, blending with the whisper of the night wind and the faint crackle of the flames. The lullaby gave way to a ballad of love lost and found, the words sung with such feeling that many a woman wept silent tears, and many a man, too.There was a moment of awed quiet as the last note fell away, and then Channa Leigh heard someone gasp, heard someone else softly exclaim, "Look at that!"She felt the undercurrent of fear that ran through the crowd, heard their shuffling feet as they backed away from her."Hold still, la.s.s," her father called softly.Accustomed to obeying her father's every word, Channa Leigh did as she was told. And then, like a ray of brilliant sunshine penetrating a dark cloud, she felt a presence beside her."Dinna move, Daughter." Her father's voice trembled now. "Dinna move."She felt a pressure against her leg, the brush of thick, soft fur against her hand. "What is it?" she whispered." 'Tis a mountain wolf, the biggest I've ever seen."She should have been afraid. Mountain wolves were huge beasts, some near as large as a draft pony. They were predators without equal.She should have been afraid, yet she felt no fear at all as the big wolf circled her, his body pressing against her legs. She felt a stirring in the air, a whisper, like the mournful sighing of the wind before dawn. A tingling on her skin, like the touch of the sun after a cold winter. Before she had time to wonder what it meant, the chains of darkness fell away from her eyes. Too stunned to speak, she stared at the creature as he rubbed his huge head against her hand, blatantly begging for her touch. What magic was this? she wondered in awe. What witchery had fallen on her to restore her sight? Hesitantly, she scratched his ears, then ran her fingertips over his head and neck. She was rewarded with a low growl that rumbled like soft thunder. Startled, she drew her hand away, and darkness descended on her once more.The wolf whined low in his throat, his muzzle pressing against her arm. She blinked and blinked again, and as she sat there, her hand resting lightly upon the wolf's head, she realized that she was seeing the world through the wolf's eyes. Her own eyes widened with surprise as she noticed the wolf's eyes were blue. Who had ever heard of such a thing as a blue-eyed wolf?"Be still, la.s.s," Dugald warned softly. "Ronin has gone for his bow.""Nay!" Channa Leigh cried. "Nay, Papa, you must not kill it!""Are you daft, girl? 'Tis a wild beastie, not a pet."Slowly, her hand resting firmly on the wolf's head, she stood and turned toward the sound of her father's voice. "Papa? Papa, I can see you."Dugald stared at his daughter in astonishment. "Channa Leigh, what are you saying?""I can see you.""Channa Leigh?" A woman stepped out of the crowd, her pale blue eyes shining with tears."Mama? Oh, Mama, I can see."Mara stared at her daughter. "But... but... how is that possible?""I dinna know." Slowly, Channa Leigh glanced around, and she could see them all, the people she had lived with all her life, some whom she had never seen. " 'Tis a miracle."A miracle that ended when Ronin ran forward, his longbow clutched in his hand. Ronin, who was the best hunter in the village, who provided the village folk with meat summer and winter, who found game when no one else could.She shouted, "Nay, you must not!" as he put arrow to string and sighted down the shaft.With a graceful leap and a roar that seemed to shake the very pillars of the earth, the big black wolf disappeared into the night, leaving her in darkness once more.

He stood once again on the pinnacle of the mountain, shaken to the very foundation of his soul. Her spirit, as pure and clean as the light of dawn, had brushed his, and as their souls collided, the fetters of blindness had melted away and she had seen the world through his eyes. He had felt her joy as she looked upon the faces of her father and mother for the first time since an illness in childhood had stolen her sight. In those few moments, he had felt all of her pain, her sense of being shut off from the rest of the world, her yearning for a home and a family of her own.How was this possible? In three hundred years, he had performed countless miracles, healed the sick, coaxed rain from the heavens, but never had he plumbed the depths of another soul, nor had another see the world through his eyes.He gazed down at the villagers. They stood subdued after the incident with the wolf. Had he willed it, he could have heard their voices, read their thoughts, but he closed his mind against them, his whole being focused on the young woman who gazed sightlessly into the distance, her heart silently beseeching the great black wolf to return to her side.

CHAPTER 2.

He paced through the empty rooms of the great stone castle all that night, his mind in turmoil.He knew so much, and yet he knew so little.He had performed wondrous feats of magic, yet could not explain why a blind peasant girl had been able to see when she touched him.He paused in front of the looking gla.s.s that adorned one wall of his chamber, stared at the reflection before him as though it could give him the answers he sought, but he saw only what he had always seen: a tall man, broad of chest and long of limb. His hair fell past his shoulders, long and straight and black save for a narrow streak of gray at his left temple. His eyes changed color with the seasons-cold gray in winter, pale green in spring, deep brown in the fall. This night, they were the warm blue of a summer sky.She had touched him and seen the world through his eyes. How was that possible? Were he to touch her while in his human form, would the same miracle occur?He walked slowly through the great stone castle that was his domain. He had lived here alone all his adult life, watching the world change, watching the people in the village below as they went through the endless cycle of life and death.He had watched Channa Leigh grow from being a plump, pink-cheeked babe, to a long-legged girl, to a beautiful young woman. It seemed he had always watched Channa Leigh, that he had ever been drawn to the beautiful green-eyed girl who now stared at the world through sightless eyes.He paused in the great hall to stare up at the painting of his parents. His mother was as fair as his father was dark. She had been a pale, slender creature with light brown hair and eyes as blue as a deep mountain lake. His father had been darkness itself-dark of skin and hair and eyes. Dark of soul, some had said. The people of the village had called him the Dragon Lord of Darkfest Keep.Darkfest left the castle and wandered through the quiet night, bedeviled by questions for which he had no answers, knowing only that should he surrender to the darkness that dwelled deep within him, he would be forever lost, forever d.a.m.ned.In the days that followed, he tried to put Channa Leigh out of his mind, but it was impossible. Like the ache from an old wound, she came back again and again to torment him. He felt anew the touch of her small, gentle hand on his head, relived her wonder as she saw the world through his eyes. And because he had ever been selfish when it came to satisfying his own wants, a fortnight later he again changed into the guise of a mountain wolf and made his way down the mountainside to the village.He knew which house was hers, knew in what room she slept. But even had he not known, her warm, familiar scent would have beckoned him as surely as candlelight drew the tiny white moths.He hesitated a moment, weighing the risk of being discovered against the prize, and then dismissed the danger. He was Darkfest, more than a match for a few lowly peasants.Her window was open and he leaped effortlessly over the low sill, then padded soundlessly toward her narrow bed. She slept on her side, facing the window, one hand tucked, childlike, beneath her cheek. Her eyes were closed, but he knew them well, wide and innocent beneath delicately shaped brows, as green as the leaves of the pine trees that grew close together along the river. Her rich golden hair fell in a long braid over her shoulder. He lifted the heavy braid with his paw, closed his eyes, and breathed deeply. Her scent filled his nostrils, warmed every nerve.Would she wake if he dared to lie beside her? It was a temptation he could not resist. Lightly he jumped onto her bed and stretched out beside her, his back to her front. A low growl of satisfaction rambled in his throat as she snuggled against him.A sigh, soft as a summer breeze, whispered past her lips, ruffling his fur.Of what do ye dream, my Channa Leigh? he wondered, and closing his eyes, he covered her hand with his paw and let his mind meld with hers...At first there was only darkness, and then, gradually, the world brightened and he saw her walking along the river-bank, one hand resting on the head of a huge wolf. And she saw the world through his eyes. He experienced her wonder as she watched a gray squirrel run up a tree. She stopped to touch the soft pink petals of a brier rose, stooped to run her hands over the green velvet gra.s.s. Now and then she paused and gazed up at the sky, and then she moved on, her head turning slowly from side to side, examining everything she pa.s.sed-flowers, leaves, rocks, a fat brown caterpillar.He felt her fingers in his hair as her hand stroked the dream wolf's head. He had thought to change into his true form but decided against it now, afraid she might sense the change and awaken.In her dream, she sat down in the shade of a flowering oak, and the big wolf stretched out beside her, his head in her lap.As she stroked the dream wolf, he felt his own body tingle, his skin ripple with pleasure, as though she were caressing him and not the wolf in her dream."Isn't the world a wondrous place, my dark one?" she said. "I had forgotten how beautiful it all was." She ran one hand over the gra.s.s. "This is green. 'Tis a glorious color.And the earth. 'Tis brown, like Papa's cow. Oh, and look at the sky. "Its a wondrous shade of blue. As blue as your eyes."Time pa.s.sed. An hour, a day... in a dream, time had no meaning, not that it mattered. He had all the time in the world. Man or beast, in this world or in the world of Channa Leigh's dreams, he was content to rest there, by her side, to feel her fingers stroke his fur, to breathe in her scent, to imagine himself as a man at her side, his head cradled in her lap, his lips tasting hers...As if she knew his thoughts, the dreaming Channa Leigh pressed her fingertips to her lips. "Tell me, dark one, do you think I shall ever find a man to love?" She laughed softly, sadly. "I think Ronin has feelings for me, though he has never spoken them aloud." She breathed a heavy sigh. "But even should he care, what man would want one such as I? "What man, indeed, he mused. Just lying beside her, watching her sleep, made him ache with a need he had never indulged.In her dream, the big wolf rolled onto his back.He sucked in a deep breath, felt his desire stir to vigorous life, as she began to scratch the dream wolf's stomach. In three hundred years, he had never known a woman, never felt such a sharp stab of desire...A low growl rumbled in his throat as he took his paw from her hand, severing the bond between them. The dream dissolved, like a shadow running from the sun.Witch woman, he thought. What are ye doing to me?With a start, he realized she was awake."Oh!" Channa Leigh exclaimed. Her fear quickly turned to pleasure as she saw a ray of silvery moonlight filtering through her window, saw the huge wolf stretched out beside her. "What are you doing here?"He growled softly, then licked her hand.She shivered with delight at the touch of his tongue, warm and rough against her palm. Sitting up, she glanced around her room, one hand clutching the wolf's fur. There was her chair. Mama had made the cover in shades of blue, because blue had always been Channa Leigh's favorite color. The cross above her bed was delicately carved from dark wood. Black, she thought. The color was black, like the wolf. The quilt on her bed was dark blue; the curtains at the window were white with tiny red flowers. Colors. So many colors. She had learned them early and never forgotten them.She glanced out the window, her hand still stroking the wolf's coat. There was so much to see. "Would you like to go for a walk?"As if he understood, the big wolf leaped to the floor, stretched, then moved to her side of the bed, waiting patiently as she stood up and drew on her wrapper. Then, one hand fisted in the long fur at his neck, she tiptoed quietly out of the house lest she wake her parents, who would certainly object to her taking a walk in the moonlight with the wolf.The night was bright beneath a full lover's moon. Awed by the beauty of it, Channa Leigh walked through the village, stopping at each cottage, each shop. As a child she had been inside most of them, but the memory of how they looked had been lost.The big wolf paced slowly at her side, stopping when she stopped, sitting patiently while she stared in wonder at the small stained-gla.s.s window set high in the wall of the church. Lit by the lamp that burned from within, she recited the colors."Red. Blue. Green. Yellow. So beautiful." She paused to study the summer roses that grew alongside the midwife's house, ran her fingertips over the petals. They were soft, so soft." 'Tis just as I always dreamed it," she mused as they walked on, leaving the town behind, "and it's all so beautiful."She paused atop a gra.s.sy hill and sat down on a log, her hand stroking the wolf's fur. "Have you a name, I wonder?" She tilted her head to one side, and her braid fell over her shoulder. "What shall I call you, hmm?" She cradled his big head in her hands. "Magick," she decided. "I shall call you Magick, for truly, that is what you are."He growled softly and licked her hand."Like it, do you?" she asked, and her voice was like music in his ears.He laid his head in her lap, inviting her touch."Ah, Magick, isn't it a wonderful world? Look at the stars, shining so brightly. And our village, there, below. See now, there is the house of Lazlo, the baker. He has a son, you know." She sighed softly. "I've not seen his face since I was a small child, of course, but he has a lovely voice. And he has ever been kind to me."He licked her hand in an effort to draw her thoughts away from the son of Lazlo the baker. He knew the boy. Tall and lanky, with a shock of wheat-blond hair and guileless brown eyes. It startled him to realize he was jealous of her affection for that callow youth."Papa says there is a pool up here. Shall we find it?"She stood up, and he stood beside her. He knew where the pool was. When she had a firm hold on his fur, he led her farther up the hill."Are you sure 'tis this way?" Channa Leigh asked. She spoke to him as if was the most natural thing in the world, as if she expected a reply.A low rumble in his throat was her answer.And then, as they topped the rise, she saw the pool, shining like a crystal placed in a bed of green velvet The surface of the pool shone like a mirror, reflecting the light of the moon and stars."Oh, Magick," she murmured, "have you ever seen anything so beautiful in all your life?"And the big wolf, looking at the wonder in her face, the radiance in her eyes, knew he had not.

He stood before the hearth, gazing into the flames. The fire was his to command. It had no power over him; he could walk through it unharmed, call it forth from darkness. He could command the wind, call lightning from the sky. His powers were many and awesome to behold, yet inChanna Leigh's presence he had felt weak, defenseless, as vulnerable as a suckling babe. They had walked until dawn came to steal the darkness, and then he had taken her back home and seen her safely tucked into bed.Channa Leigh. Leaving her had made him ache deep inside, as if some vital part of his being had been cut away and left behind.He raised his hands and a small ball of fire leaped from the center of the hearth into his cupped palms."I am Darkfest," he said, his voice echoing like thunder off the stone walls that surrounded him. "Master of fire and flame. Show me the woman, Channa Leigh by name."The fire danced in his hands, became a shimmering sheet of flame, and there, like starlight reflected on the face of a still pool, he saw Channa Leigh's image.She sat at a rough-hewn table in her small kitchen, singing as she peeled potatoes and dropped them into a pot of water. He watched and listened, mesmerized by the sound of her voice, the quiet beauty of her face, the soft womanly curves evident beneath her coa.r.s.e clothing. He had a sudden urge to see her clad in silks and satins, with gems the color of her eyes at her throat and ropes of diamonds woven into the golden strands of her hair."Mama," she said, "do you think the wolf will ever come back?""I dinna know, child," her mother replied. "Perhaps we could send Ronin to hunt for it."Hope brightened Channa Leigh's face; then, with a sigh, she shook her head. "No. The beast would surely die in captivity. Sure and it would be cruel to keep it caged.""But, child, if we could capture the beast, and tame it, think what it would mean to you.""No, Mama... it wouldna be right. Besides, Ronin would probably kill it, don't you know, for the wolf has a fine pelt that would surely bring a good price...""Flame, begone." He could look at her no longer, could not see the yearning in her face, hear the resignation in her voice. Nor did he understand such sweetness, such tenderness, that would make a blind girl choose to remain blind rather than keep a wild beast against his will.Using all his considerable self-control, he banished her from his mind, determined to think of her no more.For three hundred years he had lived alone, complacent in his solitude, content with his magic. He would not let one evening in a woman's presence shatter his hard-won tranquillity.He would not.

CHAPTER 3.

Channa Leigh walked at Ronin's side, her hand resting lightly on his arm. She had been surprised the first time he had come to call, but she had soon come to look forward to his company. Now, he described what he saw as they walked... me colors of the leaves changing on the trees, a red fox scurrying for its hole, the fluffy white clouds drifting across the sky. It was pleasant, walking along the river, the leaves crunching cheerfully beneath her feet, but she couldn't help wishing it were the wolf at her side, allowing her to see the world for herself.Ronin patted Channa Leigh's hand. Her skin was smooth, soft. A fortnight had pa.s.sed since he had first found the courage to call on her. In truth, he had not given her much thought at all until Merick, the baker's son, chanced to remark that she was pa.s.sing fair. Ronin had noticed her comeliness for himself on the night of First Harvest. The beauty of her voice was something all those in the village took for granted, but that night he had seen her as a woman. For the first time, he had noticed the way the firelight played over her face. Her skin was smooth and clear, her body nicely rounded; her hair was the color of sun-ripened com. And so he had taken his courage in hand and asked her father if he might take her walking. Since that time, they had spent every evening together. It pleased him, not only because he had truly come to care for the fragile creature at his side, but also because he had bested his childhood rival, Merick, yet again.They had been walking for quite some time when they came to a fallen log and he suggested they sit awhile."Channa Leigh?"She turned toward the sound of his voice. "Yes, Ronin?"He cleared his throat. "In this past fortnight, I have come to care for you..." He cleared his throat again, glad that she could not see the blush staining his cheeks. "What I mean is, I think I love you, Channa Leigh. Will you marry me? I swear I'll make you a good husband. You'll want for nothing."A soft sigh escaped Channa Leigh's lips. She was not in love with Ronin. He was a kind man, a good man, and she knew he would care for her and provide for her. But she did not love him. She did not love anyone. She thought fleet-ingly of Merick, the baker's son, but he had never shown any interest in her, and she feared he never would."Please, Channa Leigh," Ronin murmured."Ronin..."He lifted her hand and she felt the brush of his lips on her fingertips. "Say yes, Channa Leigh."Why not say yes? It seemed no one else wanted her. She was far past the age when most girls were married. But would it be fair to marry Ronin when she did not love him?"Channa Leigh, what say you?"Honesty compelled her to say, "Ronin, you know I am fond of you, but I dinna love you.""But you may come to love me, in time.""Perhaps.""You'll marry me, then?"She sighed, a soft sigh tinged with resignation. "Aye, Ronin, I will marry you. In the spring." She lifted a hand to his face, let her fingertips trace his features. She had seen him only once since childhood, and that very briefly the night the wolf appeared in the village square. Ronin was a handsome young man, with light brown hair and brown eyes and, yes, a cleft in his chin, she recalled, running her finger over the gentle dip in his skin."Channa Leigh." He took her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. "Might I..." He swallowed hard. "Might I kiss you?"She nodded, her heart pounding with trepidation. She had seen two and twenty summers and never had she been kissed by a man.His lips were warm on hers, his touch as light as dandelion fluff. It was pleasant, she thought, quite pleasant."Come," Ronin said, suddenly exuberant. "Let us go back and tell yer kinfolk."

Dugald and Mara were pleased by the news of their daughter's betrothal. They had long hoped for just this match for their daughter, for Ronin was a kind man, one who would be patient with her affliction. As he was a strong hunter, she would never lack for meat at her table."Aye, you'll make a beautiful bride," Mara remarked, beaming.Dugald brought out a flask and they toasted the young couple. Ronin stayed to take supper with them, and they made plans for the wedding. Mara would begin weaving the material for Channa Leigh's dress on the morrow; Ronin would begin looking for a suitable place to build their house; Dugald would gather the best of his flock for her dowry.Later that night, still caught up in the excitement of the evening's events and unable to sleep, Channa Leigh gazed sightlessly into the darkness and wondered where the wolf had gone and if he would ever come to her again.

CHAPTER 4.

He heard of Channa Leigh's betrothal, as he heard of everything that happened in the village. He had shunned her presence and now she was betrothed to another. Stricken by the news, he shut himself away in his castle. He felt the changing seasons in the chill within the castle's cold stone walls, saw it in the changing color of his eyes as fall's brown turned to winter gray. He had ever hated winter. Below, the villagers gathered their children close. Huddled around their cozy hearth fires, fathers told and retold the ancient stories and legends of their people, while mothers sang songs and lullabies.Sometimes, when it seemed the long winter nights would never pa.s.s, when the loneliness grew more than he could bear, he took on the wolf form and ran with the pack that dwelled high in the mountains behind the castle. They accepted him as one of them, and he found solace in their company.Often, he felt compelled to go to Channa Leigh, but it was too painful to be close to her. Had he been less selfish, he would have sought her out so that she might again see the world through his eyes, but being near her only emphasized his loneliness, his separateness from those in the village.Now, he stood before the hearth, the light from the fire playing hide-and-seek with the shadows that lurked in the corners. He held his hands out to the flames, felt the warmth seep into him, but all the fire in the world could not ease his loneliness or chase the darkness from his heart and soul.He was like the shadows, he thought, torn between light and dark, between good and evil. There had been times, though rare, when he had refused to grant a boon to one of the villagers simply because it pleased him to refuse, because it gave him a perverse sense of power to know that he held the fate of the supplicant in his hands. There were times, when he stood within the cold stone walls of the dungeon where he practiced his magic, that he felt the darkness rise up within him. At those times, he felt the promise, the insidious lure, of the Dark Arts.Other times, when he had granted a boon to one who sought his help, he was filled with an inner light, with the satisfaction that came from helping one in need.But he had no thought for goodness or kindness this night. The Darkness rose up within him, thick and black and smothering. Turning away from the fire, he left the dungeon to stalk the dusky corridors of the castle, his long black cloak floating behind him like the smoky gray mists that sometimes covered the land near the sea.He caught a glimpse of himself in one of the windows, a tall, dark silhouette moving swiftly, silently. A solitary creature who belonged to no one, belonged nowhere but here, in a castle that was as cold and empty as his heart.He paused in midstride, nostrils flaring. Someone was coming.Descending the long spiral staircase, he crossed the great hall and flung open the door.Dugald of Brynn reeled back, his eyes growing wide. One hand, lifted to pull the bell, remained frozen in midair.Darkfest glared at the man. "What brings ye here at this hour, Dugald?"" 'Tis my wife," the man said. Lowering his arm, he took a deep breath, shoved his hands into the pockets of his trousers to still their trembling. "She's sick with a fever. Three days now."Darkfest grunted softly. "So, what is that to me?""Our healer has been unable to help. I thought..." Dugald took a deep breath. "I thought perhaps you might come and have a look at her.""Did ye?""Please, my lord. I'll give you anything you ask.""Indeed? And what if the price is dear?""Only name it, and if it's in my power to give, it will be yours."Channa Leigh's image rose in his mind. At last, a way to claim that which he desired. He shook off an unwelcome sense of guilt. Surely he deserved a special gift for the healing Dugald required."In time," Darkfest replied softly. "In time."

He caught her scent even before he entered the cottage, felt a warmth spread through him that had nothing to do with the heat of the fire radiating from the hearth in the corner and everything to do with her presence. She was sitting at her mother's bedside, singing softly.

"For the land that's most fair, 'tis where I shall fty,For my true love lies there, in a glen wild and high,And if I but wait, and yield not to despair,I know, by and by, my love will find meWaiting there,Waiting there..."

The pure, clear notes trailed off as they entered the room.She turned toward the door, head c.o.c.ked to one side. "Papa?""Yes, child."Darkfest stood silent behind Dugald. Channa Leigh had not asked if he had come in answer to her father's summons, but there was no need. She sensed his presence in the room. He knew it without doubt.Channa Leigh clutched her mother's hand. "Her fever is worse."Dugald laid a callused hand on his wife's brow. Her breathing was labored, shallow. Dark circles of pain shadowed her eyes."Can you heal her?" Channa Leigh asked, tears evident in her voice. "Can you?""If I cannot," Darkfest replied arrogantly, "then no one can."Dugald cleared his throat, afraid to ask the question that must be asked. "And what payment will you require?"Darkfest did not look at her, only spoke her name. "Your daughter, Channa Leigh."Dugald blinked at him. "What?""I will require yer daughter."Dugald stared at him in blatant disbelief. "My daughter!" A look of horror washed over the man's face. "But... but... she is not chattel, to be bartered back and forth like a lamb."" 'Tis my price.""But she is betrothed to another."Almost, he relented. But then he recalled the loneliness of the keep, the warmth of Channa Leigh's smile. It strengthened his resolve. "I will have the girl for one year. When winter comes again, she may return home and take her vows."Dugald shook his head. Not even to save his wife could he allow his daughter to go off with the dark wizard of the mountain."It canna be done," Dugald said. And then he glanced at his wife, lying so still and pale upon the bed they had shared for over thirty years. How could he abandon her now? Without the wizard's help, she would surely die.Swallowing hard, he looked back at the man standing tall and still, waiting for his decision. "Please, my lord, have mercy on us. My wife will nae forgive me if I trade our only child for her life."Darkfest shrugged. " 'Tis yer decision.""I have a fine ram, and a wee bit of gold.""I have no need of a ram," Darkfest replied brusquely. "And no need for gold.""Please," Dugald begged, wringing his callused hands. "Be merciful."Channa Leigh squared her shoulders. She knew what had to be done. Taking a deep breath, she said, "Papa, dinna fret. I'm not afraid. I will go with him and gladly, if it will help Mama.""Nay, child. Yer mother would not hear of it.""I have yer word, Channa Leigh?" Darkfest asked. "Ye will come with me, of yer own free will, and stay with me for one year?""Aye."Dugald looked at his daughter as if seeing her for the first time. "Nay, Channa Leigh," he said sternly. "I forbid it."" 'Tis done, Papa.""Leave me," Darkfest said. "Both of ye."Channa Leigh shook her head. "Nay, I wish to stay.""Come, Daughter," her father said.He reached for her hand, but she shook him off. "Nay, I will not leave Mama."Dugald looked at the wizard. " 'Tis sorry I am," he said apologetically. "She can be most stubborn at times,."Darkfest nodded. "Let her stay."Dugald pressed a kiss to his wife's brow, glanced fleetingly at the wizard, who loomed like a tall dark cloud at the foot of the bed, then left the room, quietly closing the rough-hewn wooden door behind him.Darkfest moved to the side of the bed and took the woman's hand in his. Her skin was hot and dry, her breathing labored. Why did they always wait until the soul was on the brink of flight to call him? Were they so afraid of him, so afraid of his power, his wrath? Well, they were right to fear him.He closed his eyes and summoned his power, felt it crawl over his skin as it gathered and coalesced, felt it swell and grow until it thundered within him, until he was aware of nothing else, only the power thrumming through every fiber of his being.He placed both hands on the woman's head, and then, channeling his strength into his hands, he began to chant softly."I am Darkfest, master of fire and flame. Spirit of evil, depart in my name."He felt the fever leave the woman, felt it burn through his hands, felt the weakness that had engulfed her as the sickness left her body and entered his, to be devoured by his strength.He took a deep breath, exhaling it in a long, slow sigh as he removed his hands from the woman. " 'Tis done."Channa Leigh stared at him through sightless eyes. "She's healed?" A wealth of hope lay in those two words."Aye. She will sleep through the night and when she wakes on the morrow, she will be well."Tears sparkled in Channa Leigh's eyes. "Thank you, my lord," she whispered tremulously."I have done my part." He clenched his hands at his sides, wondering if she would keep her word. Wondering what he would do if she did not. Did she but realize the power she held over him, she could have easily refused without fear of retribution. But she did not know. "Will ye now do yours?" he asked, and waited, hardly daring to breathe, for her answer."Aye, my lord," she said tremulously. "I will come to you whenever you say.""Tomorrow morn."She crossed her arms over her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, a shiver of unease shaking her slight shoulders. "As you will.""Exactly as I will," he said curtly, and left the room in search of her father.Dugald was standing near the hearth, head hanging, eyes closed. He looked up, a glimmer of hope in his deep-set eyes, as the wizard entered the room." 'Tis done," Darkfest said."You give me my wife, and take my daughter," Dugald said bitterly. He took a deep breath, and only his love for his offspring gave him courage to speak. "What will you do with her, with my Channa Leigh?""Whatever pleases me, old man."Dugald's eyes widened in horror as he imagined his only child at the mercy of the wizard's every whim. "She is but a child, innocent in the ways of men.""She is no longer your concern.""You will not... harm her?""I shall expect her on the morrow." Darkfest rose to his full height. "Do not think to betray our bargain, Dugald," he warned, his voice like frost on a winter's morn, "lest a worse fate befall your woman.""She will be there," Dugald vowed, his voice hoa.r.s.e. "On the morrow."Darkfest nodded once, and then he was gone.

Channa Leigh sat at her mother's bedside all through the night, her thoughts in turmoil as she tried to control the fear that engulfed her. All her life, she had heard tales of the master of Darkfest Castle. He was feared by all, for his powers were great. Some said he was the sp.a.w.n of the Dark One. Some said he was the Dark One.Why did he want her?What would he do to her, with her?Would she be enslaved in his castle, forced to serve the Dark One?Growing up, she had heard many tales of the wizard, each more frightening than the last. Shuddering, she wrapped her arms tightly around her waist. It was said he drank the blood of children, that he sacrificed virgins to his Master. Was she, then, to be the next sacrifice? Her mouth went dry at the thought. But no. He had promised to return her to her home the following winter. And yet of what value was the word of a man who served the Dark One?Slipping from her chair, she knelt at her mother's bedside and prayed for the courage to fulfill her promise, for the strength to withstand whatever evil awaited her at the wizard's hands.

He did not sleep that night but spent the dark empty hours till dawn pacing from one end of his dreary castle to the other. Soon. Soon, she would be here. What madness had made him demand Channa Leigh in payment? What was he to do with a blind girl? How could he endure her nearness day after day? Hear her voice, see her face, and know she was there only because of a vow made in exchange for her mother's life?A harsh laugh tinged with bitterness rose in his throat. In three hundred years he had never lain with a woman, nor felt a woman's hand upon his flesh. He could have demanded any woman in the village, but he had recoiled from the idea of bedding a woman who had no affection for him, nor did he wish to embrace a woman who did not want him in return. Better to remain alone than take a woman by force and see the revulsion in her eyes. No, he had never wanted a woman who had no true affection for him.Until now. Until Channa Leigh. What foolishness, what arrogance, had made him think he could be near her day after day without touching her? He doubted even his monumental self-control, forged through centuries of self-denial, would be enough to protect her from his l.u.s.t.A knock at the door. Though faint, it echoed like thunder in his mind.She was here.

CHAPTER 5.

Channa Leigh couldn't stop shaking. At home, at her mother's bedside, she would have said anything, promised anything, to see her mother well again. But now, standing here on Darkfest's doorstep, it was time to make good upon her promise."What is he like, Papa, this wizard?""I dinna know, Channa Leigh. No one really knows.""What does he look like? Is his face cruel?"Dugald frowned. "He is a tall man, with long black hair. His eyes are as changeable as the seasons. As for his face... 'tis a hard face, to be sure. I dinna know if you would call it cruel, but... 'tis hard. He is never seen without a cloak. A long black cloak that billows behind him like the hounds of h.e.l.l.""Papa, do you think-?" She bit off the words as the door opened with a faint creak.The wizard stood in the doorway, towering over them.He wore a loose-fitting white shirt, black breeches, and supple black leather boots. A long black cloak fell from his shoulders to ward off the chill of early morning. His eyes burned with an intensity that Dugald found unsettling. Fear for himself and his daughter turned his blood to ice.Dugald took an involuntary step backward. "I have brought my daughter, as promised." He studied the wizard's face. Was it cruel? The eyes seemed dark and cold; the mouth was set in a firm line; the jaw was firm and square and well denned, the cheekbones high and proud, the nose straight and sharp as the blade of an ax. "We..." He swallowed hard, unsettled by the wizard's unwavering stare. "We will expect her back in one year.""Aye, old man, that was the bargain.""You do not ask about my woman."One dark brow rose slightly. "She is well, is she not?""Aye," Dugald replied. Mara was well enough, though she had been inconsolable upon hearing that her dear Channa Leigh had to leave them for a time. You should have let me die, Mara had raged at him. Better that I should be dead than our daughter be at his mercy.Channa Leigh drew in a sharp breath as a large unfamiliar hand closed over her arm."Come," said the wizard."Fare thee well, Channa Leigh," Dugald said. He handed the wizard the small cloth bag that held his daughter's few belongings. "I will come for you when the year is up.""Fare thee well, Papa," she replied tremulously. "Will you not hug me good-bye?"She felt the wizard's hand fall away from her arm as her father stepped forward to embrace her."Be a good la.s.s," her father admonished softly, and she heard the unshed tears in his voice. "Remember yer prayers, at daybreak and eventide.""I will, Papa."He hugged her, hard and quick, and then he was gone, and she was alone with a stranger. Once again she felt the wizard's hand upon her arm as he guided her into the castle.She had never heard anything so frightening, or so final, as the sound of the heavy door closing behind her.He released her, and she stood there, lost and alone in the darkness. She knew he was still there. She could feel his presence looming over her. Hands clasped, she waited, wondering what was expected of her.Darkfest dropped the girl's belongings on the floor beside the door. "Can ye cook?" he asked."Aye.""That will be one of your ch.o.r.es on the morrow. Today, I will prepare our meals.""Have you no servants?" she asked, thinking it strange that such a powerful wizard had no one to look after him."No."A sliver of fear ran down her spine. She had not realized she would be alone in the keep with him. "I can prepare a meal," she said. "I enjoy cooking." It was something she did well, something that she had straggled hard to learn. Something that gave her a sense of accomplishment and self-worth."Come along then," he said. He walked slowly toward the kitchen, and she followed the sound of his footsteps, her feet learning the shape and feel of the cold stones.In the kitchen, he took her hand, wondering if his touch would enable her to see, but she continued to stare ahead, looking at nothing. Odd that in his wolf form, his touch granted her sight. What was it, he mused, that made the difference?Holding her by the hand, he guided her to the pantry and to the hearth, showed her where the cook pots were, the shelves that held the pewter plates and cups and bowls, the drawer that held the utensils and the linen. He guided her hand to the pump."Where do you keep the wood and the flint, my lord?" she asked.He blinked at her. He was master of fire and flame; he had no need of flint."Ye will have no need of them," he replied. "The fire burns day and night."She gazed in his direction, unseeing, unblinking."Is there anything ye need?" he asked.She shook her head. She had been blessed with a quick mind, a good memory. It would take her but a little while to learn her way around the kitchen; until she did, she would rather stumble around on her own than ask for his help."Call me when the meal is ready.""Aye, my lord."With a grunt, he left the kitchen; then, on silent feet, he returned to stand in the doorway, watching her. She moved slowly about the kitchen, one hand out in front of her. He was tempted to go to her aid as she ran her hands over the pans, looking for a particular size, but he stayed where he was, curious to see if she would call for help.She had the patience of a saint, he mused, as he watched her. By smell and by touch, she found the ingredients she desired. His amazement grew as he watched her prepare a pot of porridge, boil half a dozen eggs, and brew a pot of tea.He backed away from the door as she walked toward him."My lord Darkfest," she called. " 'Tis ready."He waited a moment, then moved toward the kitchen, making certain she could hear his footsteps.He approached the table and sat down. He waited for her to join him, and when she did not, he cleared his throat and said, "Come, eat with me.""I'd rather not.""I would rather ye did."She hesitated a moment, then made her way to the table and sat down in the chair across from him. "Shall I serve you, my lord?""I can do it," he said gruffly.He watched her while he ate, studying her face, the rich golden color of her hair, the delicate shape of her brows. She ate very little. Her hands trembled slightly. Did she fear him so much then? Ha! He knew the stories they told of him down in the village, that he drank blood and devoured children, that he sacrificed virgins to the Dark One. That he was the misbegotten son of the Dark One.He would have renounced it all as nonsense save for the fact that he did not know who his father was. Perhaps he was the son of the Dark One. Perhaps that was why he had lived so long, why he did not grow old; perhaps it explained his supernatural powers.Darkfest stood up when the meal was over. "Would ye like me to show ye the rest of the castle now?"She stood up. "Aye, I would."Taking her by the hand, he led her through each of the rooms on the castle's main floor."This is the great hall." He led her around the room, describing the huge stone fireplace that took up the entire west wall, letting her touch the long trestle tables where no one had eaten as long as he could remember. He led her to the raised dais situated near the east wall. Two chairs were located on the dais; a thick carpet was spread before the heavy oak chairs. She ran her hands over the heavy draperies that covered the windows.There were tapestries on the walls, three of which were embroidered with scenes he was glad Channa Leigh could not see. They had troubled him all his life. The first depicted a large black wolf being pursued by hunters. A spear protruded from the wolf's back; blood stained his fur, trailed behind him in the snow.The second tapestry showed a tall man clad in a flowing black cloak. Behind him, the dark sky was growing light as the sun rose over a craggy cliff. Surrounding the man were a dozen hunters armed with spears. Apart from the hunters stood a priest, a large silver cross raised over his head. Teeth bared, the man in the cloak faced his pursuers. It was the eyes that troubled Darkfest. Red eyes alight with defiance. The wolf's eyes.The third tapestry portrayed either a victory or a defeat, depending on one's point of view. A black wolf lay dead in the snow, surrounded by the hunters and the priest. A hooded man stood at the wolf's side, an ax poised to sever the wolf's head from his body.Darkfest guided her into the library, felt his face grow hot as he realized she would have no need of this room.He took her to the solarium, watched her smile as she took a deep breath, her nostrils filling with the scents of the hardy mountain flowers that bloomed and thrived even in the midst of winter.He bypa.s.sed his bedchamber and led her into the room that connected to his. It was a large square room. Once, it had belonged to his mother.Step by step, he guided Channa Leigh to the huge canopy bed, the table that held ewer and basin. There were two large chests in the room, one for her clothing, he explained, and one for extra bedding.A smaller room opened off this room. It had been his mother's sewing room.He escorted Channa Leigh down the narrow corridor to the garderobe, saw the color bloom in her cheeks as he told her what it was.When the tour was complete, he took her back to her own room. "I will get yer belongings," he said, and left her there.Channa Leigh made her way to the bed and sat down. 'Twas a huge place. She would not have been surprised to learn that the whole of her village could fit inside the main hall. She ran her hands over the mattress. The bed itself was bigger than her room at home.Home. A single tear slipped down her cheek. A year away from her mother and father, from Ronin, seemed a terribly long time, and yet it was a small price to pay for her mother's life.She shook off her melancholy and thought about the wizard instead. What did he want of her?Frightened and restless, she stood up and began to pace the room, her feet moving slowly over the floor as she memorized the dimensions of her chamber, her hands exploring every object within the room, running over the window ledge, touching the gla.s.s.She whirled around at the sound of the door opening." 'Tis I," Darkfest said. "I have brought yer things."She heard his footsteps as he crossed the floor."I have put yer bag on the foot of the bed.""Thank you, my lord." She clasped her hands to still their trembling, took a deep breath. "I would like to know, my lord, what it is you expect of me.""I should like ye to prepare my meals and wash my clothes, and clean the castle, as best ye can.""Aye, my lord. Is that all?""It is.""I do not mean to be impudent, my lord, but surely you could have hired a girl from the village to serve you. One who could see.""Aye, Channa Leigh.""Then why...""Why did I want ye?"She nodded, certain she had angered him."I want ye to sing for me in the evening, Channa Leigh. For me, and for no one else. Is there anything else ye wish to know?""Nay, my lord. I shall do whatever you wish.""Then we shall get on well together, the two of us."She heard his footsteps move toward the door."I shall see ye this evening. The larder is well stocked with meat. Prepare whatever ye wish for supper.""Aye, my lord."She breathed a sigh of relief when she heard the door close. She would cook for him and sing for him, and at the end of a year she would go home.

Darkfest cursed softly as he left the girl's room. He should not have brought her here. What folly had possessed him to do so, to think he could look at her every day and not want her, to think he could remember the touch of her hand upon his wolf self and not take her to his bed? Even now, he burned for her, for the touch of her hand, the sound of her voice rising in ecstasy, sobbing his name.With a harsh laugh, he plunged down the stairs to the dungeon room where he practiced his sorcery. What did he know of women? Of ecstasy? No doubt she knew more of the carnal nature of what went on between a man and a woman than he did. His only experience in coupling had been in his wolf form with a she-wolf late one moonlit night. It had left him feeling satisfied and confused and frightened.A wave of his hand, and a dozen candles sprang to life, illuminating the room where he kept the ingredients he used in his magic. Powdered horn of a unicorn. Saint-John's-wort. Crushed rosemary and thyme, vervain and yarrow and lavender, garlic and sage and rue, mugwort and cinquefoil and hyssop. He kept a large supply of tree bark and leaves: birch for cleansing and to expel evil; hazel for wisdom and the divining of water; yew, the tree of death; rowan for life and healing; ash for power and absorbing illness; pine for rejuvenation; willow for enchantment; hawthorn for male potency; holly for beauty; the apple for fertility; mistletoe for love and peace. And the alder, said to be the tree of fire, the wood of witches and wizards. He carried a whistle made of alder in his pocket for use in summoning and controlling the four winds.He needed but little help in conjuring or making spells. The power was within him, within his hands, within his heart and mind. His, for good or for evil.But it was not power or magic that concerned him this night. It was a fair la.s.s by name of Channa Leigh. What was he to do with her, now that she was here?

Dinner was a silent affair. He could think of nothing to say to her, the beautiful young woman who sat across from him, her head bowed, the shimmering curtain of her hair concealing her face from his prying eyes.The meal she had prepared was fit for a liege lord: the roasted venison succulent and swimming in a rich sauce, the vegetables sweet, the bread still warm from the oven. And yet he would have traded it all for a plate of cold ashes to see her smile.When the meal was over, he thanked her, curtly, and left the room.He took refuge in the high-ceilinged library that was his favorite room in the castle. It was a large chamber, with a cozy hearth and leaded windows. A bearskin rug was spread before the fireplace; curtains of so deep a blue as to be almost black hung at the windows. An enormous overstuffed chair, large enough to seat two comfortably, was angled toward the fire. A heavy oak table stood beside it. Two walls were lined with shelves that were crammed with ancient books and scrolls that held the wisdom of the known world. He had read them all many times over.He whirled around, his gaze going to the door, which he had left open. He heard her footsteps in the corridor, hesitant, barely audible, and yet they echoed in his mind like thunder."My lord?" She stood in the doorway, her head c.o.c.ked to one side. "Are you here?""Aye, la.s.s. What is it ye want?""You said you wished me to sing for you."He grunted softly. "Come in," he invited, and then, remembering that she could not see, he went to her. Taking her by the hand, he led her into the room, bid her sit down in his chair."I would rather stand," she said, "if you dinna mind.""As ye wish.""What will you have me sing, my lord?""Whatever pleases ye."She hesitated a moment, and then she began to sing the lullaby he had heard her sing on the night of First Harvest. Hands clasped to her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, head high, eyes closed, her voice filled the room, soft and sweet and filled with yearning, and he knew in that moment that she dreamed of marriage, that she hungered for a babe of her own."My sweet bonnie la.s.s,A boon from heaven above,I cradle you to my heartAnd pray you know my love."Sweet bonnie la.s.s,My sweet bonnie la.s.s,Heaven sent you to me.Heaven sent you to me."My sweet bonnie la.s.sSo young and fair of face,May you ever walk in sunshineAnd be blessed with G.o.d's good grace."She sang to him for an hour, and he felt her words twine around his heart, as delicate as a silken web, as binding as silver chains.How beautiful she was, this woman known as Channa Leigh. There was magic in her voice, a mystical power equal to his own as she sang of a maiden's dreams and a mother's love and a warrior's heart."Enough," he said, his voice hoa.r.s.e, his mind reeling from the images her songs had planted within his mind."As you wish, my lord," she said, and with a curtsey she left the room, leaving him awash in darkness though the room glowed with the warm rosy light of the fire.And he knew, as he listened to her footsteps fade away, that he was totally, irrevocably, lost.

CHAPTER 6.

In her room, as she undressed for bed, she resolved to be brave and strong. A year was not so very long, after all, and when it was over, she would go home and marry Ronin.She found her bag at the foot of the bed and dug through its meager contents for her nightgown. Slipping it over her head, she crawled under the covers. The mattress was soft, the sheets wondrously clean. And warm. They were not made of the coa.r.s.e cotton she was used to, but some soft material that seemed to enfold her. Her pillow, too, was softer than what she was used to. Filled with down, she thought.Lying on her side, one hand beneath her cheek, she stared sightlessly into the darkness, a single tear slipping down her cheek."Mama's life is worth it," she whispered. But it didn't stop the tears.

Darkfest stood before the hearth in the great hall, listening to the sound of her tears. She was lonely and homesick and afraid. Why had he brought her here?Why, indeed?Without conscious thought, her image danced across his mind-her body supple, her hair like sunlight, her skin the color of the wild peaches that grew to the north. Oh, yes, he knew why he had brought her here, knew it with every breath, knew it in the deepest region of his heart and soul.But he could not admit it. Neither could he stay away from her side.He changed to wolf form as he made his way down the corridor. A thought opened the door and he padded into her room. For a time, he stood beside the bed, watching her, and then he licked her arm.She woke with a start, her sightless eyes wide, her mouth open in a silent cry.A low rumble rose from his throat as he leaned forward and licked her arm again."Magick? Is that you?"He growled softly in reply."But... how did you get in here?"With eager hands she reached for him, her fingers gently grasping his fur. And he felt the darkness leave her eyes, saw her smile as the shadowy room became visible. She gasped as the candle at her bedside sprang to life."Oh, my," she murmured, glancing around. " 'Tis even bigger than I thought."She swung her legs over the side of the bed and sat up, one hand still clinging to his fur. "Look how high the ceilings are. Oh! Magick, look."He heard the wonder in her voice as she stared at the painting on the ceiling. It had been done hundreds of years ago. He had stopped seeing it long ago; now, as he looked at it through her eyes, it was like seeing it for the first time. Fluffy white clouds were scattered against a pale blue sky. Turtledoves nested within the branches of a tree. A fawn slept in a thicket. A handful of sheep grazed in green pastures. It was a lovely mural, meant to lull one into peaceful slumber.She ruffled his fur, and then she frowned. Leaning forward, she cradled his head in her hands. "Your eyes," she murmured. "They were blue before, and now they are gray. How is that possible?"The wolf's tail thumped on the floor." 'Tis very strange," she said, and then laughed softly. "But no more strange than the way my sight returns when you are here."Slipping out of bed, she crossed the room, opened the door, and peered up and down the corridor. "Where do you suppose he is?" she asked. "Do you think he's asleep?"The wolf gave a low bark."Come," she said, and with a firm grip on his fur she left her chamber. The wolf padded quietly beside her.She paused when she reached the bedchamber where Darkfest slept. Pressing her ear to the door, she listened for a moment, then looked down at the wolf. "I dinna hear anything." She giggled behind her hand. "I thought he would snore loudly, like Papa."The wolf looked up at her, tail wagging.They explored the main floor of the castle. She thought it odd that candles burned in every room even after the lord of the castle had retired for the night. He must be rich indeed, she thought, to incur such waste.She ran her hands over the rich green velvet that covered the thronelike chairs in the great hall. An enormous carpet, woven in muted shades of green and blue, was spread before the chairs; another was spread before the hearth. She ran her fingertips over the exquisite tapestries that covered the cold stone walls, paused in front of a painting that hung from a gold cord. "They are a handsome couple, are they not?" she mused, and smiled when the wolf thumped his tail on the floor.She touched everything she saw. Several long tables and benches lined two walls. All were covered with a fine layer of dust. She trailed her finger over one of the tables, leaving a clean streak behind." 'Tis a great deal of work to be done," she remarked.She paused at the great stone hearth and stared up at the sword that hung above the mantel. It was a large, heavy weapon. The hilt was set with sapphires and emeralds that winked a bright blue and green in the candlelight."Is that his sword, do you think?" she mused. "Looks very sharp."Leaving the hall, they went into the solarium. There were a myriad of flowers and other plants growing there and she touched them all, stopping to smell the flowers, marveling at the silky feel of one of the blossoms, amazed that there were flowers at all when winter winds blew."Do you think he knows the names of all these flowers?" she wondered aloud. She stooped to smell a delicate bloom.The next room was filled with books, more books than she had ever dreamed existed in all the world. Shelves of books, of scrolls covered with strange lines and symbols. Surely it would take several lifetimes to read so many books.She picked one up and turned the pages. The words meant nothing, but there were pictures on some of the pages-pictures of animals and plants and people. A storybook, perhaps.They left the library and went into the kitchen and she studied the pots and pans, the knives, the placement of the dishes and cups in the cupboard, so she could better remember them tomorrow. She lifted the lid on the bread box, cut a thick slice from a loaf of crusty brown bread, and covered it with b.u.t.ter and honey."Hmm," she said. She looked down at the wolf as she licked a drop of honey from her lips. "Would you care for a taste?"The wolf wagged his tail, so she broke off a corner of the bread and offered it to him. He took it gently from her hand, then licked the crumbs from her fingertips. The rough velvet of his tongue sent a shiver down her spine.It was near dawn by the time she returned to her own chamber. Yawning, she climbed up on the big bed, then patted the mattress beside her.With a low woof, the wolf leaped up beside her. "Oh, Magick, I wish you could stay with me always," she said wistfully. She slid under the covers, and the wolf stretched out beside her. "Are you really here?" she asked, her voice low and dreamy and sleep-edged. "Or am I just dreaming?"Perhaps I am the one dreaming, the wolf thought as her b.r.e.a.s.t.s pressed against his back. Her arms wrapped around him and she rested her chin on the top of his head. If so, I hope I never awake.He lay there, her warm body pressed against his own, feeling her fingers stroke his head. Eyes closed with pleasure, he remained at her side until sleep claimed her. And then, unable to resist, he took on his own shape, his body humming with desire as he felt her soft curves pressed against his back.He stayed there, unmoving, until the torment grew unbearable. And then, muttering an oath, he left her bed without a backward glance.

He woke to the tantalizing aroma of sausage and fresh-baked biscuits. A word brought the fireplace to life, the flames quickly chasing the chill from the air.He slid from his bed, naked, to stand before the hearth, all thought coming to a halt as the heavenly sound of Channa Leigh's voice filled the air. She sang a cheerful morning song, praising the G.o.d of heaven for the beauty of the new day, for home and family and friends.Darkfest stood there, mesmerized by the pure, sweet notes, by the knowledge that, for the first time in hundreds of years, he was not alone in the house. A year, he thought. She would be here for only one year. And already one day was gone.He closed his eyes, letting the music caress him, feeling it move over him and through him. He was startled to find himself smiling.When the song ended, he pulled on a pair of woolen trousers,