Satyr

Candace Sams

 


Chapter One

Wales

Four years ago

 

Soland Leigh took his beloved Spring’s hand and held it tightly. He
glanced briefly at the beautiful horizon she was gazing toward. “You’re
very near your time now. Without your even mentioning it, I can tell.”
He smiled lovingly down at her.

“Yes,” she replied, looking into the sunset, “and it feels as if I’ve
been carrying the baby for an eternity.”

Soland watched her sweetly return his smile as she placed her hand on
her swollen abdomen. “How are you feeling? Can I get you anything?”

She looked into her mate’s eyes and saw anxiety in their green depths.
“Stop fretting, my love. You know this is what I’ve wanted for years.
We’ve both wanted this.”

“I just can’t help thinking about what the Sorceress said.” He placed
his hand over hers, which suddenly seemed more fragile than ever before.
“I guess I’m just nervous.”

“All new parents are. And maybe more so for you since we have to hide so
carefully. But you needn’t worry so. After all, Satyr women have been
having babies without help for centuries. We’ve been taught how to be
mothers. The poor fathers have always had to wait through the
experience.” She gently touched his cheek. “For that, I can understand
your concern. It’s still misplaced, Soland.”

He tried to alter his expression so as to show no fear. But it had taken
years for Spring to become pregnant, only to be told by the Sorceress
that this pregnancy was dangerous. Still, he had to be strong for her
sake. They’d been together for so long. And their love had lasted
through all the difficulties hiding from the outside world could cause.
Now, at last, their one wish would come true. Sometime very soon, they’d
be parents. And Spring had insisted that neither of them should know the
sex of the child. The Sorceress, with her great powers, could have
easily told them. But it only mattered that the baby was on its way. To
those of their kind, whether the child was a boy or girl didn’t matter.
Both were treasured. More so because it had been so difficult for Spring
to conceive.

She laughed. “That smile you keep giving me is forced, my love. How many
years have we been together? Why are you still trying to hide your fears
from me?”

“I can’t help it. We’re so very far from the Shire. There are no other
enchanted beings for miles. If anything should happen while you’re
giving birth, I don’t know what I’d do. You’re everything to me.”

She gently stroked his broad forearm. “What will be will be. It’s as the
Green One wills it. I’m not afraid.”

“But you’re ever so much braver than I, Spring. Satyr women are always
more courageous than the men.”

“And is that why I fell in love with you? Because you’re such a coward?”
She grimaced in mock condemnation.

He dropped his head. “I don’t really know why you love me. We’re living
in the middle of the Welsh hills like paupers. I’ve never had much to
give you or any way of making things better. We’ve always had to hide
from outsiders. We’ve been digging in the dirt for what few vegetables
we can grow and mining for gems to send back to the Order. It’s not much
of a life.”

“And yet we’ve been happy living on our ancient grounds. It’s the way
our people have survived for hundreds of years. I’ve had everything I’ve
ever wanted. Including this baby. So, no matter what happens, know that
I love you and always will. And I want you to love our baby.”

He quickly clasped both her hands tightly in his. “You know I will. I’ll
love you both until the very end of time. I swear it.”

She grinned and pushed back his long brown hair. “Then come with me back
to the glen and help me get ready for the birth, my big coward. Though
I’m taught to go it alone, I really don’t want to do this without you.”

His voice almost left him. “I-It’s /really/ time?”

She smiled and nodded. “It really is.”

He helped her walk the few yards back to the little clearing. She’d
chosen the spot for birthing their child because flowers grew there and
because it had been warmed by an early fall sun. It was the custom of
the Satyr mothers to pick their place to deliver. Even with Spring’s
confidence, the Sorceress’ warning echoed in Soland’s mind. She’d often
advised Spring against getting pregnant as her tiny body just wasn’t
built to easily deliver a baby. It was for that reason Soland had
directly gone against Spring’s wishes and sent for the Sorceress of the
Ancients. He’d known for days that the baby would come at any time and
hoped the Sorceress would arrive before the delivery. He’d never been
more frightened.

For thousands of years his people had been warriors. They were fiercely
devoted to their Clan, families, their friends and the Order of magical
creatures. Soland knew he could fight any man or beast and would gladly
do so in the protection of his home and those he loved. But fighting a
frailty that could so endanger his love was far beyond his scope of
experience. Spring thought him a brave warrior and had stood by his side
when his father had turned over the leadership of the Satyrs to him. But
he felt the worst kind of fear at the present moment. Spring’s pregnancy
hadn’t gone well. His mate thought she could hide from him the pain she
was enduring, but he knew. And he wasn’t sure exactly what frightened
him more—the fact that she was hiding her pain, or that he’d gone along
with it and pretended not to notice. That he had done it for her was no
excuse.

As Spring lay on a soft carpet of Irish moss, arranged her birthing robe
around her and spread her knees, Soland’s entire body began to shake in
anticipation of a new life. At least that’s what he told himself. But
the trembling in his hands was really the outward manifestation of his
terror. Terror of losing his love and living a life without her. Since
childhood, they had always been together. First as friends, then as
young lovers. Finally as mates. As her moans of pain began, something
deep inside sent a forbidding shudder through his body. He prayed to the
Green One that the Sorceress would soon arrive.

* * * * *

“How long has she been like this?” Shayla Gallagher asked. She quickly
approached and rolled up the sleeves of her long Druid robe. She watched
as Soland turned his sweat-streaked face toward her.

Spring cried out in agony again and he turned his attention back to his
mate. “For many hours,” he replied. “I’m glad you’ve come. There’s too
much bleeding. No matter what I try, it just won’t stop.”

“Move aside and let me and my women take over, Soland.”

He shook his head in denial. “I told Spring I’d be with her.”

Shayla quickly knelt beside the writhing Satyr woman. “And so you shall
be. You may watch and give what comfort you can. But if you don’t want
to lose the both of them, I suggest you let me handle the rest of the
birthing.”

He nodded and slowly stood. Several Druid and Satyr women rushed past
him and began to wipe away the excess blood from Spring’s body and the
sweat caused by hours of agonizing labor. Her pain was so intense he
wasn’t sure Spring knew who was there or that he had left her side.

But as he had promised, Soland kept very close. It was only when one of
the women handed him a wash bowl and a clean cloth that he noticed the
blood on his own hands and arms. That it came from his beloved almost
made him retch. Now that he had little to do but wait, the full impact
of his emotions began to take over. A horrifying sense of helplessness
filled him.

“Will she be all right?” he asked, and clenched his hands in an
unconscious gesture of futility.

“Bring my crane bag, Soland. You’ll find it in the next clearing on a
tree stump,” Shayla commanded, and pointedly ignored his question.

He quickly moved to do the Sorceress’ bidding and gather the large
carryall that contained a Druid’s magical items. The whole time,
Spring’s horrible cries echoed through the hills. Normally, a Satyr
woman wouldn’t have made a sound. To do so in past times would have
brought enemies down on the helpless woman and her baby. That she did so
told him how very terrible Spring’s pain was and he cursed himself for
letting her talk him into ignoring his monthly herbs as she had sworn
off hers. Those were the very same herbs most of the men and women of
the Order took to stop pregnancies. She had wept and desperately begged
him for a child. Spring even reminded him of how he’d always told her of
loving children and wanting some to call his own. But all that was long
ago, before he knew the growing weakness of Spring’s body and that
impregnating her could be dangerous. But she had wanted to give him an
heir for their Clan so badly. He’d finally relented. Both of them had
been ecstatic to learn she carried a child. Now that happiness was
turning into horror.

As Soland handed Shayla the crane bag, he prayed to all the stars in the
firmament that something within that pouch would stop Spring’s pain. And
he hoped the Green One would forgive his next awful thought. Whatever
Shayla did was justified. Even if it meant the loss of the child.

“Will she be all right?” he asked again and waited for the answer.
Again, none came, and Soland despaired of the night ending without
tragedy. He slumped against a large stone and let his head drop into his
hands. “Please, Green One, giver of all life…Green Man of the woods, I
beg you, let Spring be happy. Let this agony of hers end.”

Shayla heard his murmured plea and shook her head. One of the two beings
she was trying to help would not make it through the night. Spring or
the baby girl she carried would die. She had seen it all while looking
into her scrying mirror. The Satyrs had been warned of this, but youth,
in its ignorant bliss, sometimes chose unwise paths. Still, she didn’t
know the entire outcome of this sad tale. That much hadn’t been shown to
her. If the Green One, called the Green Man by some, heard Soland’s
heart-felt prayer, they’d soon know. She and her women had done all that
could be done. The herbs given to Spring would take effect soon and the
pain would go without altering the labor. But so much blood had been
lost. She walked over to Soland’s slumped form.

“Be at ease, my friend. By dawn’s light, we’ll know how Spring and her
baby fare. For now, all we can do is wait. And you must remember that
this is what Spring wanted.” As usual, Shayla left out any reference to
what she’d seen while scrying. Truth, when it was told, was so often
disbelieved. As Sorceress of the Ancients, she’d long ago dispensed with
sharing too much gleaned from prophecy. Members of the Order so rarely
wanted to really know the truth anyway. They preferred the bliss of
ignorance. Soland and Spring were prime examples of that fact. And they
would pay dearly for not listening.

Soland felt the Sorceress pat his shoulder and absently watched as her
women went about making a fire. It was early autumn and the Druids knew
Satyrs disliked being cold. He guessed it was as much for Spring’s
benefit as theirs. He was far past caring about the temperature as he
sat beside his beloved mate and held her hands.

Through the night, Spring was encouraged to push when appropriate.
Always, the Sorceress was right beside her. They offered Spring small
amounts of water and attempted to comfort her with blankets and soft
bedding. To him, it seemed his woman was barely aware of what was
happening and the fuss being made over her. Spring was simply obeying
the commands of the Sorceress, as they had all been taught to do from
childhood. It eased his mind a bit to know his mate wasn’t feeling any
pain. Spring’s dazed smile occasionally drifted to him, and he’d try to
smile back. The grip she pressed into his hands seemed strong, but only
at times. The hours passed with her contractions coming closer and
closer together. Toward morning, the baby was very near to coming into
the world.

“Take deep breaths and wait,” the Sorceress instructed.

Soland applied a cool compress to Spring’s forehead, pushed back her
long brown hair and fixed his gaze on her dark eyes. Crying out, the
woman pushed hard and more blood came. Soland’s heart plummeted. In his
own eyes and expression, Spring must surely see how bad the situation was.

“D-don’t worry, Soland. I told you,” Spring panted, “everything will be
all right. You’ll see.”

But he held her shoulders when she arched back in pain so intense no
cries would come. The herbs given to ward it off no longer worked. He
sensed that her energy was nearly spent as well. He was remotely aware
of the Sorceress and her staff trying to stem the flow of blood. Someone
was speaking to him. Then a hand on his shoulder shook him hard.

“Soland!” Shayla finally shouted to get his attention. “You must choose
now.”

“Choose?” He looked at the faces around him, not understanding what was
being asked.

“The mother or the child?” Shayla sadly asked. “You can’t have both.”

Hearing the words, he slowly shook his head at the terrible question
posed. How could this be happening?

“There isn’t time for vacillation, Soland. You must choose. Now!”

A hand reached up and curled around his bicep. “The baby must live, my
love.”

That Spring heard them speaking of such a thing and could glean its
significance through her pain-induced state filled him with revulsion,
guilt and rage. Why would he have to choose one life over another? But
then he remembered his earlier thoughts. If the Sorceress had to save
only one, it had to be Spring. Without her, there was no life in his
heart. No love in his world or the future.

“Save Spring,” he quickly replied.

“No!” Spring summoned the energy to yell back and tried to sit up, but
firm hands forced her to lie back down. “This isn’t what I want.” She
looked toward Soland and tried to focus on his dimming features.

Soland tried to calm her. “My love, don’t do this. We can find a child
who needs us somewhere. There are those in the Order who would…”

“No,” she repeated. “I want this baby, /our/ child, to live, Soland. You
swore to love us both.”

“Spring…”

“Let this child live. The Sorceress knows what I wouldn’t tell you before.”

Soland looked up into the Sorceress’ silver eyes and tilted his head
questioningly. “What is she talking about?”

“Spring hadn’t much longer to live anyway, Soland. It was her wish to
leave this child with you so that you wouldn’t be alone. At least,
that’s my perception of her plans.”

He looked back down into his love’s face and knew, from the intensity of
her gaze, that this was the truth. “Why?” he asked, and his voice shook
with unshed tears.

“I’m too weak, Soland. My body was giving out. I might have more time if
I hadn’t been pregnant. I might still have a little more time if you
chose me over the baby. But having this baby was worth the extra months
I’ve lost. Please, please let me go in peace. Let this baby be the light
between us that leads you to another future. Into another place and with
someone else.”

He could barely hear her voice. She was weakening more every moment. And
his heart almost stopped beating. For thirteen years, they’d been mates.
How could he simply let her go? What choice was he being given? She lay
there, so much braver than he, already speaking of a future without her
in it.

“The choice is still yours to make, Soland. I can give Spring those
extra months and time for you both to make peace with each other and the
Green One. Or you can do as she asks. Either way, you’re the one who
must live with the consequences of the decision.” Shayla paused. “What
will it be? Spring’s will, or the baby’s last breaths? But this is your
last chance—make a choice or lose them both. There’s no time left.”

He gazed at the Sorceress of the Ancients through a sheet of tears,
looked down at the woman he loved and saw her eyes. Then he chose.
“Bring me a healthy child into the world. Do as Spring wants.” Even to
his own ears, the words sounded cold, hollow and monstrous.

Shayla set to work. She quickly gave Spring an herbal potion to drink.
It would ease the rest of the pain in a way the rest of the herbs hadn’t
and take her into the next world quietly. There might be time for her to
see the child, but only a few stolen moments.

Soland held Spring’s shoulders and watched as the Sorceress took her
small ceremonial knife from her crane bag. Shayla quickly made one
perfect slice and took the child from Spring’s womb. The herbs had done
their job well and Spring seemed to feel no more pain. Soland bent his
head even as he heard the first cries of his newborn baby.

“It’s a beautiful little girl,” Shayla softly spoke.

“Hear her cries,” Spring said and smiled up into her mate’s face. “She
sounds so strong. And I know she’ll be stronger than I am. She has your
blood too.”

“Hush, /’m asgre/,” he slipped into his native tongue, using the
Satyr-Welsh endearment for /my love/. Surely he was shaking so badly,
Spring would know what a true coward he was.

“Take your daughter and name her quickly, Soland,” Shayla commanded.
“Help Spring hold her and hear her name. She’s too weak to do so by
herself.”

“I-I don’t know what to do,” he replied as the tiny bundle was handed to
him.

Shayla quickly wrapped more blankets around Spring. “Support the baby’s
head and back. Then let Spring see her. Be quick about it, man.” There
was no time to waste. Spring was fading very quickly.

Soland took the baby from the Sorceress and held it for Spring to see.
He’d never beheld anything so small in his life. And he’d certainly
never embraced a baby before. Unlike some other men of the Order, he’d
never expected to be a father, so had neglected those studies having to
do with the matter. And the last months had been spent caring for his
mate and seeing to her every need. But as he watched Spring gaze down at
the infant, something in him possessively took control of the tiny form.
His little girl was amazingly beautiful. And though she, like all Satyr
children, hadn’t been born with two horns on her forehead, her hair was
thick and medium brown like his. The horns would come later. For a
second, the baby opened her wee eyes and he could see they were summer
green. Also like his. “I’ll call her Autumn, for the season in which she
was born.”

“S-she’s so lovely. Our Autumn,” Spring gasped. She weakly lifted her
hand and put it over her own heart and looked again at Soland. “Where am I?”

He automatically responded as he always had and pointed to the middle of
his chest. “Inside here. And where am I?” he asked in a shaking voice.

With the last breath in her, Spring responded, still holding her hand
over her heart. “Inside here. And where are we?”

“Always to…” Soland suddenly stopped and lifted her hand into his. Then
he struggled to finish. “Always together.” He said the last part alone.
Spring had left this Earth for another place. He finished their pledge
of love by himself. It was supposed to have been said together, while
they touched their two palms. But she was gone.

“So Mote It Be,” Shayla said as she raised her hands into the air. “As
one life leaves this existence, another enters. As we know sorrow, we
also know love. Go in peace, gentle spirit, dear Spring. You and yours
will be cherished. Your gift of life has made you honored among us.
Blessed Be.”

Soland didn’t hear the softly spoken words meant to console. Nor did he
hear the quiet weeping of Shayla’s staff around them. All he knew was
that Spring’s still form rested against him. His hand and hers still
touched and their baby was gently notched into the crook of his other
arm. The only sound reaching his ears was that of their newborn
daughter. She made those little noises he’d heard other babies make.
What was he supposed to do? How would he ever go on?

Then, as a cool fall breeze blew, Autumn reached out to him. Soland
carefully placed Spring’s body back on the ground, for he was sure she
wasn’t in that shell any longer. His mate was an Earth spirit now.
Forever living in the Welsh hills, or wherever she wished to roam, but
always in his heart. He focused all his attention on the little life
grasping, reaching out to him.

“Autumn. You’ll be the light in my life and lead me to the future. Just
as your mother said you would.” Then he bowed his head over his infant’s
body and wept as though he’d never stop.

* * * * *

Four years later, into the present

 

“Daddy, it’s time to go,” Autumn reached up to/ /grasp her father’s hand
but he was so much taller. She had to keep playfully jumping up to reach
even his fingertips.

“I know, baby.” He ruffled her hair. “You go on down the path and find
the Fairy leader. I’ll catch up in just a moment.” Soland looked up to
see the tall, blond man in question. The Fairy was waiting on the path
leading away from home. When Lore nodded back at him as he waited for
the little girl to run and catch up, Soland noticed how Autumn’s long
brown hair floated behind her like a silken banner. The sun lit its
depths and made it the color of hazelnuts. He smiled sadly and then
turned his attention back to the task at hand. It was understood that
time was needed to say goodbye. Time that could only be spent alone.
Even as Soland turned away, he knew the Fairy and his daughter would
only go a short distance and wait for him. Still, the words he wanted to
say had to be chosen carefully. He couldn’t rush such a thing. This was
another sad time he’d rather have not known.

Soland looked around the small clearing, which was now devoid of any
trace of his and his daughter’s existence. Their tiny house had been
destroyed by members of the Order who were skilled at doing such things.
No outsider would ever know he or anyone else had ever been present. New
growth claimed the ground where he had worked and where their garden had
once thrived. He remembered his years there with Spring. All the
laughter and love that had been theirs seemed to fade into a past he
couldn’t capture. It made his soul ache. But the Sorceress had summoned
him away from his Welsh hills and on to another life. A new adventure.
Spring’s ashes had been scattered here. As they remained, so would part
of his heart. Forever.

Finally alone, he whispered his departing words. “Goodbye, my love. /’M
asgre/. I still miss you so much. Even more when I look at our little
Autumn and see, in her, your love of all living creatures. She brings
such joy into my life. But then I remember us. The way we were together.
And it seems strange to be leaving this place at this time of year. I
know how you loved the first few months after winter. There are early
flowers just pushing their way out of the ground. The animals you loved
will be bringing their young out soon.” Soland paused for a moment to
gain his composure. His heart felt as though it was breaking all over
again. “I’ll always, always love you. Never forget that, my dearest
heart. Never.”

He slowly turned away, hitched his backpack more firmly onto his
shoulders and then set off to join Autumn and his Fairy friend. It was
hard, but Soland didn’t look back. He couldn’t.

A whisper of wind blew a tiny whirl of dust behind him. Because he
wouldn’t turn around, he didn’t see and wouldn’t have placed any
significance on the trivial event had he witnessed it. But as Soland
walked on, the little swirl continued to follow.

When he caught up to Autumn and Lore, Soland laughingly lifted his
little girl into his arms. He placed his hand over his heart. “Where am I?”

Autumn placed her index finger over her own heart. “Inside here, Daddy.
And where am I?”

“Inside here,” he responded, with his hand still on his chest. “And
where are we?”

“Always together,” they replied in unison as they lifted their hands off
their chests to touch palms.

Soland smiled. He loved the little girl with all his soul, even though
his thoughts were back in that place he’d known as home. It hurt so much
to leave. For Autumn it was easier. She’d never known her mother, though
she sometimes asked questions about her. And he had done everything in
his power to change the subject. It seemed the agony of losing his mate
would come up again every time Soland thought about that fall morning.
It would become too much to bear and he would divert Autumn’s attention
elsewhere. It was easy to do with a little girl of four.

Though the wind blew warm, the small swirl of dust paused for a moment.
/“How can I forget you loved me? I never will. But you wear your
loneliness like a dark cloak. Unless you let it go, our daughter will
one day feel the heavy guilt of it. Walk on, my love. I’ll see you
lonely no more.”/

*
*

Chapter Two

 

Kyndall Taylor walked in the gardens of Dunnemore Castle, stopped at the
low rock wall and glared at the vans of equipment and throngs of new
employees. She frowned as one of the new workers stared back. The
expression on the man’s face was quizzical. He tilted his head and
looked her up and down as if she was a mannequin in a department store
window. It gave her the impression that he thought she was some kind of
oddity. When several of his friends turned to stare at her as well, she
quickly walked through the French doors off the garden and into the main
parlor. Lady Dunnemore was, as usual, deep in conversation with that
Gallagher woman.

The Earl of Glen Rowan, their neighbor, had sent Shayla Gallagher to
oversee his newly acquired land at Dunnemore. And Kyndall’s suspicions
over the acquisition grew. Lady Dunnemore was allowed to give her
estate, its buildings and land to anyone she pleased. It wasn’t any of
/her/ business. But it had all happened very suddenly. Without any
warning, the previous Dunnemore staff had been given wonderful
references, huge pay packets to compensate them and their marching
orders. All but her. She supposed it must be something about the
English, but the old staff had thought nothing of the matter so long as
they found new positions. And, as far as she knew, they all had. Only
she and Lady Dunnemore remained, and Shayla Gallagher had been bringing
in her hordes of workers ever since. And Kyndall was beginning to wonder
whether the kind, eccentric, former owner of Dunnemore was being duped
out of her entire inheritance, life savings and land by some very
unscrupulous people.

Kyndall’s attempts to question Anna Dunnemore about her actions and
those of the Earl of Glen Rowan, who hadn’t made so much as an
appearance, fell on deaf ears. Lady Anna kept assuring her that
everything was perfectly legal and that her actions were the result of a
sound business decision. But Kyndall’s nature was to suspect everyone.
It was the cynic in her, brought about by a harsh life filled with
mistrust. She could smell something was wrong, almost the way one smells
a freshly baked apple pie. And the entire scenario was being handled
with such English diplomacy and tact. Kyndall felt, in the American
marrow of her bones, that something wasn’t right. Not with the new
workers who were appearing daily, not with that Gallagher woman and
certainly not with the complete changeover of staff. Why had everyone
had to leave in favor of the Earl’s people? Couldn’t Lady Dunnemore’s
gardener have been just as effective as the new people now surveying the
premises? True, the man hadn’t done his job very well and Kyndall had
frequently taken him to task for it. Just as she had with just about
everyone else on the premises. But why not just /add/ staff? Why send
the old employees away? It was all too weird and Kyndall was determined
to get to the bottom of it. Her future position as Anna Dunnemore’s
personal assistant was at stake. More importantly, Lady Dunnemore had
been the only person in her entire life whom she’d really trusted. Even
if their relationship only went back three years.

Kyndall had come to look on the old woman as a kind of grandmother, a
stable figure in a life full of anxiety and heartbreak. And if anyone
was going to hurt Lady Anna, they were damned well going to have to go
through /her/ first.

Kyndall cleared her throat loudly and waited for Lady Anna and Ms.
Gallagher to notice her presence.

“Yes, dear? What is it?” Anna looked up and smiled.

“Lady Anna, could I please speak to you? /Alone/?” She gave Shayla
Gallagher her very best go-to-hell look.

“Of course, dear. But later. Shayla and I are right in the middle of
something now.”

Shayla raised her eyebrows in amusement and stared back at the tall,
auburn-haired beauty before her. Kyndall Taylor was a force that, in the
weeks coming, would have to be reckoned with. “That’s all right, Anna.
We have all evening to talk. The gardens will be warm tonight. I’ll have
some of my people fix us a late night tea outside.”

Anna happily clasped her hands together and nodded. “Oh that would be
splendid. I’ll just pop up to my room and take a quick nap. I do so love
to be in the garden at night.”

Kyndall stepped forward to help her elderly employer off the sofa. Until
quite recently, she’d been confined to a wheelchair. Lately, however,
her arthritis appeared not to trouble the woman nearly so much. “Could
we speak before you go upstairs, Lady Anna?”

Anna patted her white-haired coif and smiled at Kyndall. “I’ll talk to
you later, dear. And I can manage to get upstairs on my own.” She waved
off Kyndall’s attempts to help her. “But do take the rest of the day off
and go into town if you’d like. You never seem to take any time for
yourself. Shayla and I will be quite fine by ourselves this evening.”

Kyndall opened the doors for the elderly lady and watched her leave the
parlor. Strangely, it seemed that Anna appeared more agile and less
frail than ever before. As glad as she was for the good health that Anna
was enjoying, Kyndall’s deepest fears of being laid off like all the
others surfaced again. If Lady Dunnemore didn’t need her, where would
she go?

Shayla carefully scrutinized Kyndall’s expression. The girl’s aqua eyes
never left Anna’s retreating form. Only when her employer wasn’t in
sight did those eyes turn on her and they were cold as glacial ice when
they finally did so. “You care a great deal for Anna, don’t you?”

Dropping any pretense of polite civility, Kyndall turned on the
silver-haired woman who addressed her. “You’re damned right I do! And if
anyone, and I mean anyone, ever tries to hurt her, there’ll be hell to
pay. I promise you.”

Shayla tried very hard not to openly smile. The girl, for so a woman of
twenty-eight was to Shayla, couldn’t be faulted for her absolute
loyalty. Letting her senses guide her, Shayla knew Kyndall was devoted
to Anna Dunnemore. It would have made her wonder about the ferocity of
it had she not been informed about Kyndall’s background and done her own
checking to substantiate all Anna had told her.

“You don’t like me very much, do you?” Shayla leaned back against the
sofa and waited for Kyndall’s response.

“Let’s just say I trust you about as far as I can throw a horse.”
Kyndall put her hands on her hips and stared at the woman, hoping to
intimidate her. But Shayla only stared back.

“Loyalty is a wonderful thing. It’s rare to find it in an employee
nowadays. And Anna told me that was only one of your many attributes.
But I think your animosity toward me is misplaced, my dear.”

“Oh really?” Kyndall walked past the vases of peonies Lady Anna loved to
place in every corner of the parlor. “You showed up here some months
ago, made some kind of deal to take over Lady Anna’s ancestral home,
sent all her employees packing but me, then bring in all your own. As if
that wasn’t enough, Lady Anna also tells me you’ve been helping her with
her finances and future plans for where and how her funds are spent. I
find all that more than just a bit suspicious, Ms. Gallagher. In fact,
it might be criminal.”

“Don’t you think Lady Anna capable of making her own decisions?”

“Anybody can be conned. And if that’s what this is, I promise that you
and this Earl you’re representing will pay for it.”

Shayla stood up and walked toward Kyndall. She allowed the girl to speak
to her in such a way only because the true nature of her existence
wasn’t known. With a slight wave of her hand, she could summon her
people and Kyndall Taylor would never be seen or heard from again. But
for all the girl’s bluster, Shayla actually admired her. Kyndall had
courage when someone of her background could so easily have been broken
in spirit.

“I’m curious, Kyndall. Why do you want to stay on here? Aside from the
fact Anna wants you around as her personal assistant, you could have
taken a great deal of money to leave. Why would someone your age want to
cloister themselves in an old castle with an elderly employer? You wait
on her hand and foot and don’t get out enough to have a personal life at
all. You’re a beautiful woman who could lead quite an exciting life in
London or any city you choose. Why stay here? What’s your story?” Shayla
knew Kyndall’s life history and why she stayed. But it amused her to
wait for the younger woman’s response and watch her expression.

“And how do you know about my time and how it’s spent, or who I really
am, Ms. Gallagher? What business do you have even asking questions like
that?” she coldly replied.

“How do I know you weren’t planning on doing Anna out of her inheritance
yourself?”

That insinuation caused Kyndall to become angrier than she had for
years. The last time anyone had riled her like this, she’d almost ended
up in jail…/again/. Kyndall clenched her fists and tried to hang on to
the remnants of her temper. “Why you leeching, scheming…”

“Before you go any further, Kyndall, you should know that I don’t mean
Anna Dunnemore any harm. Your protection of her is most admirable, but I
won’t stand here and be accused of something that exists totally within
the realm of your own imagination. I’m sure you’ve heard the terms
/liable/ and /slander/. If you proceed with making or spreading false
accusations, the Earl’s attorneys will be in touch with you.”

“Americans have a saying about not being able to get blood out of a
turnip,” she sarcastically replied.

“And we have one about having you deported if you cause the Earl any
problems. With your past history, I’m sure that wouldn’t take any effort
at all. Just a phone call or two to the proper authorities.” Shayla
hadn’t meant to use her knowledge of Kyndall’s background against the
girl, but it had to be understood just how powerful she was. The Earl of
Glen Rowan was only a title used to cover her own activities as
Sorceress of the Ancients.

Kyndall actually felt herself the blood drain from her face. She
swallowed hard and changed tactics, hoping it wouldn’t look as though
she was backing down. “All right. So you know about my past. I don’t
know how you got the information except that Lady Anna must have told
you. But all that was a long time ago. All I care about is that Lady
Anna doesn’t get hurt.”

“I can assure you, she won’t be. And I happen to think a great deal of
Lady Anna Dunnemore myself. By giving over her lands to my care, she’s
done a wonderful thing. In your current position, you couldn’t begin to
comprehend. But if you insist on challenging me or any of my employees
further, I’ll speak to Anna. The results will probably lead to your
dismissal. And I really don’t want that.” She paused and softened her
tone. “You don’t have to like me, Kyndall, or I you. But we do have to
respect Lady Anna’s wishes. And I can assure you, she’s given her land
to the most worthy of causes. When and if the time comes for you to
understand the truth of the matter, you’ll be told. Now, can we come to
an understanding? No more questions or suspicions. Agreed?”

Kyndall fought back the urge to cry. That was the very last thing she
wanted this woman to see. But that urge always hit her when she felt
most helpless, as it had when she was a kid. Still, she’d show no
emotion. Long years had taught her to bottle it up. Tears would only be
perceived as weakness. And since weaknesses weren’t tolerated in the
world she knew, she clenched her jaw and nodded. No one was ever going
to see her blubber like a baby. Not ever. All that was in the past.

Shayla watched Kyndall’s expression carefully, saw how she struggled for
control and felt serious remorse for the way she’d addressed her. But it
had to be done. “Let’s just call a truce, Kyndall. You’ll see a great
many changes coming in the months ahead. If you’re to stay on here,
there are some unusual things you’ll be expected to accept.”

“What kind of things?” she grudgingly asked.

“You’ll be amazed. I promise you.” Shayla smiled at her, attempting to
elicit a similar response. She watched as Kyndall looked back and tried
to smile in return. The best the girl could do was nod, murmur a barely
audible excuse to leave, then walk away. Kyndall wasn’t used to being
happy. Smiling freely was probably as alien to her as the creatures she
was soon to meet.

Shayla waited until she sensed Kyndall was nowhere near, then turned
toward the French doors. Her consort, Hugh McTavish, entered shaking his
head in wonder. She waited until her tall, distinguished lover poured
them each a whiskey. He slowly approached her from the antique cart
where the spirits were kept and handed a glass to her.

“You heard all that?” she asked.

“Of course.” He took a long drink, but didn’t comment on Shayla’s
exchange with the outsider.

“What’s wrong, Hugh? Don’t you think I handled that well?”

He chuckled. “Far be it from me to tell /you/ how to handle something
like this, my love. But if you’d like a comment from me. Here it is…is
it wise to keep that woman on the premises?”

“She really doesn’t have anywhere else to go. And I don’t believe it’s
an accident that she’s here at all. Something tells me that Kyndall
Taylor is supposed to be exactly where she is.”

“You’ve seen something in one of your visions?”

“No. It’s just a feeling I have.”

He saluted Shayla with a toast. “Well, I’ll take your intuition about a
matter over other people’s facts any day of the week.”

Shayla smiled and lifted her hand to touch his face. “I wish everyone
was as easy to please as you.”

He turned his face toward her hand and kissed the palm that rested
there. “Just be careful, my darling. That girl’s history is very troubled.”

“Mmmm,” she murmured, “but it isn’t her fault, really. I can’t just send
her away. Even if I wanted to. Kyndall doesn’t have anyone in the world
who cares about her. It’s clear she loves Anna. And Anna’s only
condition for gifting us with all this land is that she and Kyndall get
to stay.”

“Of course, Kyndall doesn’t know that?”

“No,” Shayla confirmed, “she doesn’t. And Anna has no idea that Kyndall
approached me with such accusations. It shows the girl has spirit and a
good degree of loyalty.”

“But her record for making any kind of lasting relationship hasn’t been
good, Shayla. I’m surprised she’s stayed with Lady Anna this long.”

“Yes. Anna is very important to her, that’s clear. It’s also clear we’ll
have to work on her people skills. Kyndall simply doesn’t know how to
get along with others. Before the rest of the original staff was
released, they didn’t have too many kind words to say about her. I think
Anna only kept her here because she wanted to give her a home and
they’ve become attached to each other.”

Hugh took a deep breath and swallowed the rest of his whiskey. “Well, if
anyone can muddle through all this you can. But I’d like to make a
suggestion.”

Shayla leaned into him. “Please do.”

“It might be best if you found something for Kyndall to do. Something to
keep her away from Soland. The last thing in the world that man needs is
someone like Kyndall asking too many questions or getting in his way.
The work he has to do will be hard, and we have to keep it as hidden as
possible.”

She began to stroke his back. “Don’t worry. I’ve got a few things
planned to keep Kyndall occupied.”

Hugh paused and looked down into Shayla’s face. Her expression told him
she had other things on her mind besides Kyndall Taylor and the leader
of the Satyrs. “Well, if all your plans are fixed and you have some free
time, let’s find a way to occupy ourselves until this evening.”

“Well put, my love.” Shayla took his hand and led him up the stairs to
her room.

* * * * *

Soland stopped at the edge of the woods and took in the size of it. He
hadn’t been to the enchanted forest, or /Shire/, in a very long time. It
had taken days of hidden travel to reach it. That its acreage would soon
double amazed him. Now there would be a great deal more room for magical
beings to live with others of their own kind. Shayla had, as he’d been
told, established a new colony in the United States. And that was a good
thing. Too long had his kind been relegated to a few sparse acres of
land, dotted throughout the United Kingdom and other parts of Europe and
Asia. It was high time, in a world of uncertain futures, they joined
forces. Two larger places to live, instead of scattered communities,
were a much safer way to exist. And the larger, separated colonies
offered safety in the event one was discovered.

“Daddy, is this the real sacred forest?”

“It is, Autumn. Your mother and I were handfasted here a very long time
ago.” He scooped her up into his arms and held her close. “Just think of
it, m’ darlin’. There’ll be other children to play with as soon as we
get the new land ready. And we can find a place to build us a real
cottage made of stone. Just like the one in your storybook.”

“I could have a room all my own and we could have a garden outside with
a wishing well?”

“Aye, we will. But before all that happens, we have to find a place to
sleep for the night. It’s another whole day’s walk until we get to the
Sorceress’ castle.”

“I’m afraid we won’t be going to the estate,” Lore broke into the
Satyr’s conversation with his daughter.

Soland looked at his Fairy traveling companion. “What do you mean?”

“We’ve been given permission to stay in the enchanted woods tonight,
since the journey was so long. But tomorrow we head south toward the new
land. That’s where the Sorceress will be. I think she wants you to stay
where you and your people will be working.”

“No one said anything about that to me,” Soland complained. “I’ve got a
daughter to keep safe. If that land isn’t sacred, that means it isn’t
inhabited by any of the Order yet. I can’t take Autumn to stay on ground
that isn’t guarded for any length of time.”

“There’ll be guards. Some of my own men, the Druids and others have
moved there. The perimeters have to be established so that a group of
night-time poachers who’ve been sneaking onto the Dunnemore land won’t
keep doing so.”

Soland looked down at his daughter, who watched him with eyes as green
as his. “Darlin’, why don’t you go and collect some sticks for the fire
tonight. But stay close.”

She nodded and obediently did as he asked.

“Why wasn’t I told outsiders have been poaching on that land? And why
was I led to believe that Autumn and I would be staying in the sacred
forest while I worked on the adjoining land during the day?”

Lore raised one hand in supplication. “Look, don’t kill the messenger,
Soland. I was only told to get you here and explain all this when we
arrived. I’ve done that. And Shayla has her reasons. You know her.”

“I know that /she/ knows I wouldn’t have come if Autumn’s safety was at
risk in any way,” he angrily replied.

“Autumn will be staying at Dunnemore Castle. And I promise you on my
word as a Fairy, there’s no way in this world anyone can get to the
place by coming through that forest. While there are a few old trails
the deer use, most of it’s thick with undergrowth. There are trees in
there as old as the Goddess herself and deep, narrow ravines. That’s why
the Sorceress sent for you and your people. You’re the only one who can
make it safe for the rest of us and get it cleared properly so the trees
can grow healthy, the native plants and animals can thrive and the
Sorceress can bless it. Only then will it be our land in truth. But no
one will know what we’re doing. Our guards will keep the outsiders away
while you and your people work. Even the poachers. And they’ve only been
hunting near the perimeter, at any rate.”

Soland took a deep breath. “I see. As usual, the Sorceress has arranged
everything without asking those involved what their opinion is.”

Lore shrugged and laughed. “You know the Sorceress.”

“Aye, I do.” He looked toward Autumn as her tiny hands gathered sticks
and twigs for the nightly fire. “I just don’t want anything to go wrong.
For myself, I’ll take any chance the Sorceress commands. But I won’t put
my girl in harm’s way.”

Lore clapped him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, Soland. No harm will
come to that little girl or any of our children. It’s for all their
sakes that we’re doing this. Just think of it, man. We’re going to have
a sacred forest bigger than any the Order has known in thousands of
years. And with Lady Dunnemore’s influence and power, no one will ever
step a foot on that land without permission.”

“If I can get it cleared properly and make it safe, that is.”

“You’ll do the job. We all knew you were the right man for it when the
Sorceress ordered you to come.”

Soland rudely snorted. “I’ll do the best I can. I want a proper home for
my girl. A warm place out of the winter snow.”

“You’ll have it. Everything will work out, Soland. Come on now. Tonight
the perimeter guards will be bringing us some hot vegetable soup,
freshly baked Fairy bread, good wine, cheese and even sweets for the
little one.”

Soland grinned. “I /am/ hungry.”

Autumn ran up to Lore and lifted her arms to be picked up. Lore
playfully hefted the child onto his shoulder. Fairies loved children
more than anything in the world. And little Autumn was as sweet as any
child he’d ever known.

“Did you say you had something sweet?” she asked.

The men burst out laughing.

“My daughter has hearing like a Highland hare. Say anything about
dessert and she’ll come running from miles away.”

Lore looked at the little girl and laughed. “Well, the sooner we have
our meal, then the sooner we can get to the really good stuff.”

“Yay!” Autumn shouted and clapped her hands excitedly.

* * * * *

Kyndall looked into the blue sky and saw the birds flying about,
searching for juicy morsels to feed their nesting young. Even /they/ had
homes. But where else would she go if she lost this position? When the
ad had appeared in the Philadelphia newspaper so long ago, she’d applied
for the position of an /English Lady’s personal assistant and
secretary/. Whatever possessed her to do such a thing was still a
mystery. Weeks later, she surprisingly found herself being asked to show
up for an interview and sitting in the lobby of the exclusive hiring
agency that had placed the ad. There were fifteen other women in the
room with her, all vying for the same position. They had been wearing
suits costing hundreds of dollars with leather pumps on their feet,
matching purses and briefcases. She’d sat there feeling like a used
tissue in her off-the-rack super-store dress, half-priced shoes and
carrying a yellow legal pad with her number two pencil. But it was the
best she could do. The other women had ignored her, but she listened to
them gossiping about who the mysterious English lady might be. Was she
royalty? And hadn’t several of them seen the ad placed with many of the
world’s top hiring firms? They had talked on and on about the English
loving to hire Americans and how grand it would be to live on a historic
British estate with all that money, luxury and pomp.

Kyndall remembered opening her legal pad to look at the copy of her own
resume. She’d left nothing out, told no lies. It was then that she had
almost considered leaving. She believed no one of consequence would hire
someone like her. Certainly not for a position like the one being
offered and not with the competition she was facing. She remembered
thinking that it must have been a mistake that they had called her for
the interview at all. That they’d probably gotten her confused with
someone else.

To add to her unease, the other women in the room had hundred-dollar
hair styles, and were expertly polished, right down to their manicured
fingertips. Kyndall had simply used her old set of hot curlers and tried
to keep the wind at bay with a drugstore scarf. And two dollars had
bought her a not-so-good pair of nail clippers. She remembered sitting
in that elegantly appointed waiting room, shaking her head at the
absurdity of it, getting up and reaching for the door to leave. /That/
was when her name was called.

Kyndall recalled turning around instead of exiting the building as she
had meant to. An efficient-looking woman had stood in the doorway of an
office, at the end of a long hallway. The woman had called her name
again. For some stupidly asinine reason, Kyndall had responded, “I’m
here. I’m Kyndall Taylor.”

The woman had escorted her down that hallway into a boardroom fitted
with leather chairs around a long, oak table. At the far end a man with
a perfect elocution and a clipped British accent to match introduced
himself as Lady Anna Dunnemore’s /solicitor/. He had been as rigid as
any wall when he picked up what she knew was her resume. It was the only
one on the table that hadn’t been printed on expensive paper.

She had sat down, answered the questions honestly and quite calmly.
Kyndall believed she wouldn’t get the job so it was easy to stay cool.
But she sensibly realized the interview would probably be the hardest
she’d ever have. She remembered, inwardly laughing, that this interview
would certainly prepare her for the next one. The next one happened to
be a minimum wage clerk’s job she had applied for at the dry cleaners,
around the corner from her apartment building. Yes, it had been so easy
to stay calm. Especially when you knew you were just wasting someone
else’s time.

But the man went ahead and asked her about her background. Then he’d
done a strange thing. He had paused, taken his glasses off and stared.
“Why did you apply for this position, Ms. Taylor?” he had asked. “It’s
apparent you’re not trained to this kind of work.”

Hurt, even though years of brutal treatment had made her thick skinned,
she knew the solicitor was only telling the truth. Kyndall had answered
honestly. “I may not look like a proper English Lady’s assistant. But
what I look like has no bearing on how I’ll work. I’ve no family to pull
me away from any duties. I have no relationships that can’t be severed
and I’ll do whatever’s asked of me at any time of the day or night.
Provided I’m not asked to do anything illegal. I did something once I’m
not proud of, but that was years ago. I was much younger then and
reacted badly.”

“Given the circumstances surrounding your encounter with the law, did
you feel you were justified?” the stalwart man had asked.

“I had no other choice,” she’d said as she looked him straight in the eyes.

“I see.” The man had cleared his throat, shuffled papers and then looked
up at Kyndall again. “Well, I suppose that will be all, Ms. Taylor.
Thank you for your time.”

Kyndall could almost see herself standing there in front of him just as
if she were talking to her parole officer. When she finally left, it had
been a huge relief. Outside she had checked her dime-store watch, and
knew she’d have to hurry or lose her chance at interviewing for that
clerk’s position.

All that had been three short years ago. No one had been more shocked
than she was when a phone call came for her. She was asked to return to
the hiring agency in four weeks and meet Lady Dunnemore in person. The
job was hers if the /Lady/ approved.

Kyndall had put down her neighbor’s phone, for she didn’t have one of
her own, and walked calmly back to her own apartment. There she’d sat,
for a full two hours, without moving a single muscle. It was just too
unbelievable. Then cynicism had crept in again. Surely, they’d confused
her with one of the other women who had interviewed. But Kyndall had
been too afraid to call back and ask.

The days had flown by. Kyndall scraped together every penny she had and
bought a nicer suit. It was off-the-rack, but tasteful. The day to meet
Lady Dunnemore came. Kyndall went to the interview, got through it
somehow and was told to get a passport, pack her bags and be ready to
leave in ten weeks. Knowing she would be reimbursed later, she’d had to
sell a few things to get the money for the passport and photos. But the
possessions she got rid of weren’t important. Nothing she’d ever miss.
And her clothes all fit into one cheap, nylon suitcase. Lady Dunnemore
had sprung for her first-class airplane tickets, straight through to
Heathrow. It was the most wonderful flight, on the most beautiful plane
she’d ever seen. But then Kyndall had never been on a plane and she’d
never been treated as well as she had in first class. The flight
attendants didn’t know her from anyone else. They didn’t know what she’d
done.

From that day to this, Lady Dunnemore had made her entire life one
befitting first class. She treated all her employees like royalty.
Kyndall had a salary that bought nicer clothes, books and even makeup.
She had a room that was wonderful and a job she took very seriously. And
Lady Anna had never explained why she hired her. Kyndall had never
wanted to ask. Dunnemore Castle had an old and venerated history. Lady
Anna could have hired any one of hundreds, maybe even thousands of
people. All of them would have been better qualified than she. But
something between them had /clicked/. Even from the first time they’d
met. And Kyndall knew she was home at Dunnemore. If not in blood, it was
in spirit. She and Anna were kindred souls. And found in each other a
wonderful balance. They had talked about everything. Eventually, Kyndall
even had the guts to tell her all about what life had done to her. And
when she had wanted to cry and couldn’t, Lady Anna held her and did the
crying for them both.

For the first time in her life, Kyndall felt like someone important. As
if she mattered and had a place she could call her own. If she lost it
now…it would be better to be dead than go back to the way things had
been. No amount of money in the way of a severance package would ever
make up for losing what Kyndall had come to think of as home. Until
Shayla Gallagher had moved in with all her people and their secrets,
everything had been wonderful. Now she was afraid again. And it felt
horrible to know that old sick feeling.

* * * * *

“It’s magnificent, isn’t it?” Lore asked as he gazed at the ancient forest.

Soland nodded as he took in the scenery. “It’s got trees that are as old
or older than those of our own Shire. But you weren’t joking about the
undergrowth beneath the canopy. It’s choking the very life out of
everything and it’s a fire hazard. One good lighting strike and the
whole place will go up like kindling.”

Lore reached out and fingered the leaves of a bush. “The Druids and the
Fairies, like me, won’t like you cutting anything down, you know.”

Soland gazed at his friend then gently offered, “I agree with you. If
anything does have to go, I’ll have the Druids perform a ceremony
thanking the Green Man for his gifts.”

Lore smiled. “To them, they’ll be thanking the /Goddess/ for /her/ gifts.”

“Same thing. The Creator goes by many names. Just so long as he or she
is on our side, we’ll be all right,” Soland agreed.

Autumn took the opportunity to ask her father a question. “Will I get to
stay inside a real castle, Daddy?”

He knelt down and pulled Autumn into his embrace. “We’ll see. But I want
you to remember what we talked about on the trip from Wales.”

“I ’member, Daddy. I’m ’posed to stay away from outsiders.”

“And what do you do if you’re in trouble?”

“Go to the woods and stay very quiet until you or someone comes to get
me. Just like in Wales.”

“That’s right, m’ love.” Soland stood up with the girl in his arms. He
turned to the Fairy. “I’ll carry her. It’ll be rough getting through
these woods and up to the castle.”

Lore shook his head and tightly gripped the staff he carried.

Soland noticed the tall man’s white-knuckled grasp on the wooden staff.
“What’s wrong, my friend?”

“Our children shouldn’t have to hide or be afraid. We shouldn’t have to
raise them not to go straight up a drive and into their homes, but to
cut through the woods and keep to cover. They’re not criminals.”

Soland could see how it angered the Fairy leader to treat a child in
such a way. But it was routine stealth that was practiced by the Order.
It was the way things had always been. “You haven’t found a mate yet,
have you?”

“No,” Lore muttered. “And I won’t so long as we have to live like this.
I don’t know how you and the other parents do it, Soland. It guts me to
have to skulk on land that was ours before anyone else ever set foot on
it. And our children hiding like…” he stopped, angrily shook his head
and walked ahead to help clear a pathway.

Soland watched him go. The Fairy leader was one of the finest men he
knew. And all Fairies loved children with intense devotion. It was wrong
that his friend of so many years wouldn’t take a mate or have a family
of his own for such obvious reasons. Especially when nothing could be
done to solve the problem. Still, it was Lore’s affair, not his. He had
his own worries to see to.

“It’s nice here,” Autumn said as her father carried her into the dense
woods. “Will lots of Pixies come?”

“I should think there’ll be hundreds. They have to look after the plants
and herbs, you know.”

“Will the Sorceress be at the castle, Daddy?”

“I hope so and she’ll give us a fine tea, I imagine.”

“I love a tea.” Autumn was silent for a moment. “Daddy?”

“Yes, baby?”

“Do you think she’ll have something sweet with tea?”

He laughed and heard the Fairy, yards ahead, laugh as well. “I don’t see
what a proper tea would be without biscuits and cake.”

“And don’t forget the scones,” Lore called back.

Autumn giggled and hugged her father. In her world, nothing was wrong as
long as she was in her father’s arms.

*
*

Chapter Three

 

Kyndall wrapped her jacket around her body more tightly. It was spring,
but the evening air could sometimes have a bite to it. Still, she kept
up her late afternoon walks down the long drive that led away from the
castle. Going more than a few feet off the drive into the forest was
impossible. The brush was so thick that men with machetes would be
needed to find their way farther into the growth. In some ways, maybe a
change of staff wouldn’t be so bad. Lady Dunnemore’s previous
groundskeepers had been getting on in years. Some time ago, they’d
stopped cutting within the forest itself and kind Lady Anna hadn’t the
heart to upbraid the staff over it.

Maybe whoever took the head staff’s place could do a better job. Kyndall
had seen pictures where the forest floor, in decades past, had been
immaculately clean. Deer had grazed peacefully under giant oaks and
she’d also seen photographs of pet game birds such as pheasant, quail
and even some peacocks. There had even been several pairs of swans on
the castle pond. It would be nice to see Castle Dunnemore as beautiful
as it had been in those pictures. All the woodwork on the castle windows
had been painted bright white instead of its current dull, peeling
yellow. The garden behind the main structure had been overflowing with
flowers in the spring and summer instead of mostly weeds.

More to the point, she wondered what her place within the larger staff
would be. Lady Anna had told her that she was to be the only original
staff member who wouldn’t be given a dismissal. But Kyndall didn’t trust
Shayla Gallagher. Who knew what that Gallagher woman might do or say to
Lady Anna? Maybe the old crone wasn’t beyond making up some wild story
to get a troublesome woman such as herself fired. And Kyndall knew she
had been a pain in Shayla’s ass ever since Lady Anna had announced she
was handing over her estates to the Earl of Glen Rowan. Even to herself,
Kyndall admitted to being rude and ignored even the smallest
pleasantries and friendly advances. But she just couldn’t help feeling
that something was very wrong. And her instincts were good. They’d kept
her alive and safe when no one and nothing else had.

She sighed and kept walking. Maybe, just in case, it wouldn’t hurt to
find something she could do in London. It was hours away, but she’d
still be near Lady Anna if the worst happened. And Kyndall prided
herself on saving a great deal of her monthly salary. With a roof over
her head, food to eat and transportation provided, her needs had been
very few. She was glad the money had been banked now. Everything at
Dunnemore was happening so fast. She may have need of that cash.

As Kyndall kept walking and considering her fate, the sun slipped
farther into the horizon. The sound of a car engine halted her progress.
Two headlights could be seen coming up the drive. And she knew from past
experience exactly to whom the old truck belonged.

“Oh great!” she muttered to herself. “Not /them/ again.” The truck came
to a shuttering halt about forty feet in front of her. Two fat, balding
men got out of the cab and one who was even larger jumped out of the
bed. Since it was far too late to hide in the brush or obscure herself
some other way, Kyndall stood her ground. Bullies were no new
experience. She’d dealt with them all her life.

“Well, well. Fancy seein’ the lovely Ms. Taylor out for a nice evenin’
walk. Eh, m’ lads?”

Kyndall pasted on her fiercest expression, one she’d been told could
melt steel. “What do you want, Ed? The constable has told you to stay
off Lady Dunnemore’s land.”

“We ain’t hurtin’ nothin’. Just out for a bit of a drive. Lady Dunnemore
wouldn’t begrudge some folks from town a small thing like that, now
would she?”

She knew the men were circling her. Ed and his brothers were nothing but
cowards. But she also knew she could handle it. She’d dealt with much
worse. “Something tells me you aren’t out for just a drive, Ed.”

“Ohhhh, you ’ear that, m’ lads? Ms. Taylor don’t think we’re out
drivin’.” Ed heard his brothers laugh and he continued. “It’s a shame a
lovely piece like you ’as got nothin’ better to do than look after an
old woman and walk up and down roads at night. All by ’erself.” He
paused to move closer. “Now if you was to be more friendly like, m’
brothers and me could show you a better time than what you gets ’ere.”

“Why do I doubt that?” Kyndall snorted and looked the men up and down in
the most arrogant fashion she could muster. “You can’t even spell what
you want to do.”

“Now don’t be that way, m’ pretty. Once we get better acquainted, you’d
like me an’ my brothers right well. In fact, you could call it a bit o’
diplomacy. Brits and Americans. Good old chums, we are.” He moved very
close to her, picked up a strand of long red-brown hair and stroked it
with his thumb.

Kyndall immediately slapped his hand away with one hand, then backhanded
him in the face with the other. “Touch me again, and I’ll break your
ignorant neck.”

A sound from the back of the truck caught Kyndall’s attention. Something
was thrashing about as though it was unused to being where it was.
Before Ed could recover or move to block her way, Kyndall walked past
him to the bed of the pickup. She threw a tarp off an old wire cage and
looked inside.

“You son of a bitch!” She immediately opened the door to the cage and
let the large hare inside jump from its confinement and straight to
freedom. It ran into the nearby woods as fast as its paws could move it.
Kyndall immediately stalked back to where Ed stood, still rubbing his
face. His brothers were laughing uproariously at his expense. “Don’t you
ever catch another animal on Dunnemore land again, or I’ll cut your
balls off!” She pushed him backward to make her point then walked past him.

Angered by the threat to his masculinity and of being spoken to in such
a way by a woman, Ed grabbed her arm as she started to walk away. He
opened his mouth to speak, but never saw the very large fist hurtling
toward the middle of his face. He landed on his back a good ten feet
away, while his brothers backed up and scrambled to help their sibling
off the ground.

Soland planted his feet firmly, ready for a counterattack. “You’re on
land that doesn’t belong to you. And the woman has already told you once
to keep your hands off her.” He ground his teeth, clenched his fists and
hoped the idiot would get up and try something. It had been a long time
since he’d fought anyone other than for sport. And beating an outsider
would please him no end. Especially a poacher. As far as he was
concerned, they were among the lowest life forms on Earth. His blood
boiled at the thought of innocent animals being frightened and trapped
by men who didn’t give a damn about the pain the creature would suffer
before death. Poachers often used traps that were as cruel as anything
he’d ever seen. But that was the way of outsiders.

Ed backed up, blood spewing from his injured nose. “You’ll ’ear from us
again,” he promised as his brothers hauled him toward the truck. “It
ain’t over.”

Kyndall watched as the truck backed up, turned in the narrow road and
headed away at a fast clip. She expelled a deep breath and turned to
face her unwanted ally. “Thanks for the help, but I can take care of…”
she stopped. Whatever she might have said floated off to infinity, never
to be uttered. Before her was the largest man she’d ever seen in her
life. At least six feet, six inches tall, he had shoulders as wide as
Hoover Dam, a narrow waist and long brown hair that had been tied back
and fell over one shoulder to the middle of his chest. Looking him over
quickly, she saw hands that could have easily broken Ed’s neck with a
simple snap. His blue cambric work shirt, jeans and hiking boots hugged
his massive body like sandwich wrap. There wasn’t much of his defined
musculature that was left to the imagination. And nothing she could have
imagined would have been more ruggedly, ungodly handsome.

Soland arched one brow and looked the tall, slender woman up and down.
In the evening sunset, her eyes were an unholy aqua color. They almost
glowed in the evening light. Straight auburn hair fell from a side part
to just below her shoulders. She had a face very like the models he’d
seen in magazine ads. Her high cheekbones, full lips and strikingly fair
complexion were all flawless. It was a countenance that could turn a man
inside out with desire. And she had guts but absolutely no sense. “You
have a nice backhand, woman. You might want to be careful when you
choose to use it.”

Before she could open her mouth and tell him where to go, the other man
stepped forward.

“You must be Kyndall Taylor,” Lore said as he exited the forest. “Shayla
spoke of you, but she didn’t say you could fight like a pro. Sure’n,
it’s a good thing to see a beautiful woman who can manage herself so
well. You must have some Irish /blarney/ in you.”

Kyndall jumped at the sound of a second voice. “Who are you?” She cast
her glance between them. Her titanic rescuer had a magnificent right
cross. The other one was only just a bit shorter with long, blond hair,
handsome as any man had a right to be. Her brain barely noted that the
second man bore a strong Irish accent. All her senses seemed to be drawn
to the big, darker-colored man who thought he was God’s gift to
defenseless women.

Bridging the uncomfortable silence, Lore spoke up. “I’m Lore and this is
Soland Leigh. We’ll be working on Lady Dunnemore’s land and only just
arrived. Forgive us for not coming out of the brush sooner, but it was a
grand thing to see a woman trounce those bastards.” He smiled and nodded
his approval at Kyndall’s actions.

Kyndall decided she liked him immediately. Her gut reaction to someone
never led her astray. It was seldom indeed that she felt such a rush of
friendliness. Only Lady Anna had been gifted with that emotion before
this big, smiling blond man. He, at least, had been willing to let her
handle the situation without interrupting. And what was not to like
about the Irish? But the other, darker one…he looked very dangerous.
There was an air of egoism about him that annoyed her no end. She let
the smile she bestowed on the man called Lore drop to a marked frown,
then inflicted that less friendly expression on the bigger man. She
looked her determined knight-in-shining-armor up and down with all the
arrogant disdain she could muster. Just as quickly, she put her
attention /back/ on Lore, as he appeared the more amenable of the two.
It was a way of showing the darker man that she didn’t need his help for
any damned reason. “Thanks for the help. Uh, Lore, was it? But I really
didn’t need it. And I didn’t catch your last name.”

Lore grinned impishly. “I didn’t give it.” Following the ways of his
kin, Fairies believed their true names, or surnames, to be magical. To
reveal the entire thing to an outsider might give that person a power
over him that he certainly didn’t want her to have. Not until he could
trust her, at least.

Soland arched his brow even higher at Kyndall’s assertion that she
needed no assistance. He was also suddenly peeved by her passing
go-to-hell glance after he’d come to her rescue and her insistence that
Lore was the only person to whom she should speak. Further, she’d
thanked /Lore/ for helping her when the Fairy hadn’t just coldcocked
that poacher. That had been /his /doing/./ “It looked to me as if you
certainly /did/ need help.”

With a frigid expression that had sent men away from the distance of a
hundred yards, Kyndall looked back at the bigger man and said, “I’ve
been dealing with Ed Gipson and his brothers for a long time now. If
you’d let me handle it and stayed in the woods where you belonged, they
would have gone back to town to get drunk as usual. Whatever
confrontations we’ve ever had have stayed between the two of us. You
just made him madder than I’ve ever seen. Thanks to you, he’ll be back
with help. The locals won’t like one of their own being beat up by a…a
hired /thug/.” As before, she pointedly turned her back on him to
address Lore. “It was a pleasure to meet you.” Then she stalked off
without another word.

Soland let out an audible expulsion of air and watched as the
contemptuous woman stormed away. Her glorious red-brown hair was lit by
the setting sun. Strands of it drifted about her on the evening air like
a solar flare, and she had a long-gated stride that made her entire body
move in exactly the right way. Especially the bottom half. Soland’s
attention was suddenly pulled back to his hooting traveling companion.
“Bloody damn! Where does that little chit get off talking to me like
that? I just saved her well-built arse from a nasty situation and that’s
the thanks I get?”

Lore laughed even harder. “Oh, I can see you two are going to get along
just fine. Great first impression you make there, boy-o.”

Soland took a deep breath and shook his head. “Outsiders. They’re a pain
in the butt and that’s for sure.”

“Daddy, can I come out now?” Autumn quietly called from her hiding place.

“Of course you can, sweetheart. Everything is all right now.”

Autumn came bouncing out of the woods. “I never heard no one talk to
Daddy like that,” she said childishly, holding her arms up to Lore.

The Fairy merrily scooped her up and sat her on his shoulder.

Unsatisfied with the Fairy’s and her father’s mutual silence, Autumn
continued asking questions. “Why did that pretty lady hit that man? Why
did /you/ hit him, Daddy? Why was she mad at you? Why…”

Stopping the barrage of /why/ questions, Soland interrupted, “It’s a
grown-up thing, sweetheart. People should never hit one another. I’ll
explain it later.” He was alarmed that Autumn had to see any of that
confrontation at all. “Besides, that lady won’t talk to me like that
again, I’m sure. It was just a misunderstanding and we’ll get it cleared
up.”

“She won’t, Daddy?”

“That’s all right, my wee girl,” Lore confirmed as he tried to control
his mirth. “I think your dad will hear more than that before all is said
and done.”

Soland grumbled under his breath. “I most certainly will not. I’m owed
an apology, and I bloody well mean to get it. Damned, contrary woman…”

“Put a cork in it, man. Watch your language in front of sweet Autumn
here.” Lore kept grinning, knowing it would irritate his friend all the
more. It was amusing to see Soland, the leader of the Satyrs, so
displaced by a woman. Especially a slender girl who was roughly half his
size. When his own daughter began to giggle, it made the larger man’s
irritation that much more amusing.

Soland grudgingly smiled at his laughing daughter, and held out his
arms. “Come here, you little hedgehog,” he said to Autumn. “Let’s go
meet Lady Dunnemore.”

Half an hour later, they were standing in the parlor of the castle. One
of Shayla’s staff had greeted them at the door and bid them to wait
until the Sorceress and Lady Dunnemore could be summoned from their
rooms. Soland looked around and shook his head in amazement. “It’s been
a long time since I’ve seen anything as grand as this.”

“You haven’t been out of the wild in a long time, have you?” Lore asked,
and absently plucked at a flower in a large blue vase.

“You’ve been traveling a lot in the last few years so you wouldn’t know,
old friend. I was last in the sacred forest on the night of my
handfasting. Spring and I left for Wales the next day and I haven’t been
back since. Shayla has come to visit from time to time, just as you
have. But Autumn and I have spent our time living in that thatched hut.”
He looked down at his daughter and her eyes were wide as a kitten’s with
a new toy. “What do you say, love? How do you like Dunnemore Castle?”

“It’s so big,” she whispered.

Both men softly laughed as the child wandered around the room gently
placing her hands on fine furniture and trying out a floral, brocade
footstool.

“It’s like being in a storybook, Daddy.”

Soland felt the smile slowly leave his face. Had his daughter been so
isolated that she wouldn’t acclimate well? He thought he’d been keeping
her safe from the outside world. It was difficult to travel with a child
who might say or do something that would cast suspicions on their
actions. That was why he’d shunned more modern forms of public
transportation and waited to use any such luxury until they were far
from the Welsh hills. There were still magic creatures there. To drive a
vehicle, even one that could traverse off the roads, could endanger
those beings if that conveyance was seen near their lands and questions
arose as to its presence. As ever, Soland would take no chances with his
daughter’s safety and that of the others who lived in the Order. But
keeping Autumn separated from modern conveyances and civilization for so
long might have been a mistake. He was still pondering the problem and
watching his little girl’s strange reactions to her surroundings when he
sensed the Sorceress’ presence. The doors of the room were opened by one
of Shayla’s staff. And that simple action, by itself, was odd. From his
days within the sacred forest, he recalled that the Sorceress had always
waved her hand and opened doors by her own will.

As Shayla entered the room and walked toward him, he sensed the two
outsiders waiting in the foyer. Perhaps they didn’t know who Shayla
really was. If that was the case, everything here was a great deal more
dangerous than he’d ever thought.

“Soland Leigh. How good it is to see you,” she addressed him, hugged him
hard, then let him back up and bow as tradition dictated.

“An honor as always,” he responded. And he heard Lore murmur his own
greetings as Shayla embraced the Fairy leader.

Shayla turned to the smallest member of the group. “Come to me, child.
It’s been quite a few months since I’ve seen you.” She opened her arms
wide and Autumn ran to her. “Ohhhh, you’re such a love. And you’ve grown
by inches,” she crooned and warmly hugged the little girl to her.

“Hello, Sorceress. I’m ’posed to curtsey for you. Wanna see?”

“Of course I do.” She lowered the little girl to the ground.

Autumn immediately dipped as her father had taught her. “How was that,
Daddy?”

He grinned and held out his arms. “Just fine, baby. Up you go.”

Autumn held out her arms so her father could lift her against his chest.
He hugged her hard and she hugged back. There wasn’t anyone on Earth she
loved more than her father. But Lore and the Sorceress were right up
there on her list of favored people.

Shayla nodded in approval. “You’ve done a wonderful job raising her,
Soland. And she’ll be happy here. We all will, you’ll see.”

He took a deep breath. “I guess we shouldn’t keep Lady Dunnemore waiting.”

“Are you ready to meet your very first outsider, Autumn?” Shayla looked
at the little girl in Soland’s arms and watched her response closely.

She nodded. “Daddy says I’m ’posed to call you Auntie Shayla. But I
don’t know why.”

“Darling, I explained that. We can’t call the Sorceress by her title
around outsiders,” he gently reminded.

“It’s quite all right.” Shayla raised one hand in an elegant wave and
smiled. “Lady Dunnemore knows everything. And she’s quite anxious to
meet the leaders of both the Fairies and the Satyrs.”

Lore let out a long breath. The occasional outsider was now brought into
the Order and he trusted the Sorceress’ judgment. “Well, that’s a
relief. I was afraid of how long we’d have to act like outsiders. I hate
doing that.”

Soland wasn’t so appeased. “I’ll do anything you wish, as you well know,
Sorceress. But I’ve got a child to worry about. Is it safe for her here?”

“Do you think I’d have sent for you if Lady Dunnemore posed any problem?”

Soland grimaced. “What about that other one? The fiery little vixen with
a temper that could melt granite.”

Shayla’s brows shot up. She glanced at Autumn and the large Fairy when
they began to chuckle. “Have I missed something?”

Lore dropped his head and tried to suppress his mirth. “We, uh, met
Kyndall Taylor on the driveway earlier.”

“She didn’t see you in your true forms, did she?” Shayla glanced from
Soland to Lore. Both men shook their heads and she nodded in approval.
“Good. It isn’t time for that yet.”

“You mean you’re going to tell that little volcano who we really are?”
Soland raised his hand, palm up, in a questioning gesture.

The Sorceress tilted her head in consideration. “Hmmm, I really am going
to have to hear how you met Kyndall. Sounds very interesting.” She
turned, walked toward the parlor door and opened it. She addressed the
girl standing outside in the foyer. “Kyndall, will you please escort
Lady Dunnemore in, then wait outside for a moment?”

Anna allowed Kyndall to help her, but she walked into the room with her
heart pounding. While Druids on Shayla’s staff had been allowed into the
house, all the other magic creatures had been kept on sacred ground that
adjoined the Dunnemore estate. For the first time in almost sixty years,
she would see a real Fairy again. And not just any Fairy, but the leader
of them all. And a real, live Satyr. She took a deep breath and walked
forward, determined to make a good impression. The men before her defied
the description of handsome. They were perfection.

“I am so very, very honored. I can’t tell you.” Anna held out her hand,
and both men came forward.

Lore bowed deeply. “Lady Anna Dunnemore, I am Lore. The leader of all
the Fairies.” He took her outstretched hand and kissed it.

Taking his cue from Lore, Soland waited his turn and addressed Lady
Dunnemore in a deep voice. “And I am Soland Leigh. I lead the Satyrs as
my father did, his father before him and generations of my line before
that. From before the time of Arthur, King of All Britons, who ruled
this land, we have been a part of it.” He looked into the elderly
woman’s eyes and his heart flooded with emotion. In her blue gaze was
such truth and warmth. The woman might be an outsider, but she was
speaking from her soul when she said how honored she was to be
introduced to them. “It’s I who am honored, Lady. Few have seen what you
will. If the Sorceress of the Ancients trusts you, then so shall I.”

Anna placed her hand over her heart. “I-I fear I must sit. This is all
so much.”

Shayla watched as both men immediately came forward and helped her to
the sofa.

“You mustn’t excite yourself over us, Lady Dunnemore. We might be
creatures of magic, but we’re still flesh and blood. Ours is a long
story and I would love to tell it to you,” Lore offered.

Shayla smiled. Lore was ever the charmer. Anna would have a hard time
getting rid of him, for the Fairy leader loved nothing more than to tell
tales of the old times. Of King Arthur and legends long thought dead.
Just like the creatures of the Order.

“Soland, introduce your daughter to Lady Dunnemore.”

He nodded and turned to Autumn. “Are you ready, love?”

“Yes, Daddy,” she whispered in return.

The two men and Shayla watched as the little girl boldly walked up to
the first outsider she’d ever spoken to. “How do you do, Lady Dunnemore?
I’m Autumn Leigh.” She curtsied as she had to Shayla.

“What a beautiful child,” Anna murmured and held out her arms. “Come and
let me see you closer, my pet. You may call me Lady Anna. And I’ll bet
you have wonderful stories you can tell me of living in Wales and all
the things you’ve seen and done.”

Autumn nodded. She quickly changed subjects, as most children her age
did. “I can change. Wanna see?”

Before Soland could stop her, Autumn knelt on the floor and changed into
her true form. It only took a shimmering moment to shape shift, then to
rise with two tiny horns over her eyes. Her skin had grown a few shades
darker. The pupils of her eyes took on a shifting star shape. The
special way their eyes changed allowed light in better, to see at night
when ordinary human vision could not. This was the extent of a female
Satyr’s transformation from human to their true form. Like the men, they
had an uncanny ability to communicate with animals and grow plants. For
the men, however, the physical transformation was much more dramatic.
Soland held his breath waiting for Lady Dunnemore’s response.

“In all my days I never thought to ever see such a thing,” Anna
whispered. “What a miracle you are. How magnificent and lovely. My life
and home are blessed with such a presence.” She began to weep for joy at
what she was being allowed to see.

Autumn took a seat beside Lady Dunnemore and took the old woman’s hand.
“Don’t cry, Lady Anna.”

Anna wiped a tear away with one finger. “I’m crying because I’m so
happy, little one. You’ll never, ever know how happy you’ve made me.”

Shayla, Lore and Soland watched in silence as Autumn stood on the sofa
and put her arms around the older woman’s neck and hugged her. Then the
little girl and Lady Dunnemore began to talk about small things as if
they had known each other for a very long time. That was the unselfish
and unconditional love a child could offer. A child who had been very
loved herself.

It occurred to Soland that his daughter had missed being with a female
very much. His fear for Autumn’s well-being completely disappeared. At
least where the older woman was concerned. Lady Anna Dunnemore would
never let any harm come to his daughter. He sensed this as deeply as
anything he’d ever known. His feelings were not so charitable for the
outsider waiting in the foyer.

Outside the parlor doors, Kyndall paced. She had reluctantly done as
Shayla asked and allowed Lady Anna to go into the room alone. But it
galled her no end that Lady Anna had been subjected to sitting like a
servant in the foyer of her own home. All this while the annoying
usurper, Shayla Gallagher, dallied with her two male friends in the
parlor. Kyndall could tolerate the handsome Irishman. But the other one
could go suck a tail pipe as far as she was concerned. Too many times,
she had run into Soland’s type. All brawn, no brains and an ego the size
of a mountain. Her temper was rising and was getting harder to control.
She sat down on a bench, crossed her arms, tapped her foot and planned
what to say to Shayla in private. Then she remembered her tenuous
position with the woman and her own job. She simply had to get her
damned temper under control. It seemed like seasons actually changed
before the door to the parlor opened and Shayla stepped out.

Shayla lifted a regal hand. “Come in, Kyndall.”

Kyndall pursed her lips at the commanding posture and tone of voice that
Shayla took. Still, she had to remember not to upset Lady Anna. She
resolved to watch her mouth, and remember that her job came first. She
couldn’t help Lady Anna if she got herself fired. If it came down to
leaving, she wanted to do so on her own terms. But she hoped, with all
her heart, that her job would be secure.

When Kyndall entered the room, it seemed an air of surprise or discovery
lingered. Lady Anna was holding a little girl in her lap who Kyndall was
sure didn’t belong to one of the nearby farmers or shop keepers in the
village. She’d have remembered such a beautiful little girl. The child
had long, curly brown hair, bright green eyes and freckles scattered
across her face. A cute turned-up nose seemed to twitch when she smiled
and two dimples appeared on either side of her bow-shaped mouth. She was
wearing a calico shift of some kind but no shoes. When the child looked
at her and waved with one small hand, Kyndall had the feeling the waif
knew her, but had no idea where they had met. And it was very hard not
to smile. The little girl was angelic.

“Kyndall, I take it you’ve already made acquaintances with Lore and
Soland?” Shayla asked as she seated herself beside Anna.

“Yes, we’ve met,” she responded guardedly.

“Can you explain how?” Shayla pursued the subject.

Kyndall looked at Lore and Soland, surprised that the incident involving
the poachers hadn’t been mentioned as yet. “Well, I was on the driveway
walking. The Gipsons showed up again and there was a small confrontation.”

“Small? Explain.”

Kyndall’s anxiety increased. If Shayla thought her responsible for some
kind of altercation, she might as well go upstairs, pack her bag and
call for a taxi. Though Shayla had called a sort of truce between them,
the woman might still be looking for an excuse to get rid of her. “It
was nothing really. The Gipson brothers caught a hare in one of their
cages. Ed got a bit fresh and…and Soland came to my rescue. He sent them
away after he turned the hare loose. And he warned them not to come
back. I think they took him a bit more seriously than they’ve ever taken
me. After all, they’re backward pigs who wouldn’t take a woman’s
warnings to heart. I just don’t know what I’d have done if these two men
hadn’t come along when they did. It was all kind of frightening.” She
tried to sound innocently beholden and fragile, but wasn’t sure the
small bit of acting could pass scrutiny. It really sounded melodramatic
even to her own ears.

As they had on his and her last encounter, Soland’s brows shot up at the
bold lie. What was the little vixen up to?

Lore lowered his head to hide a smile and carefully nudged Soland from
behind.

“And that’s how you all met?” Shayla asked as her attention turned
toward the two men.

Soland stared at Kyndall. She looked back and there was something in her
aqua gaze that made him want to agree to the story. But the expression
in those lovely eyes was rather beseeching. For some odd reason, he
couldn’t ignore it.

“Yes. Ms. Taylor was, uh, having some problems with the poachers.” That
much was true.

“Hmmm.” Shayla glanced between the younger woman and the men. Of course,
she could sense they were lying. But it was very interesting that they
all would do so on such short acquaintance. “Well, so long as the
poachers were warned and no animals were taken.”

“Oh, I think these workers of yours will definitely keep any poachers
away,” Kyndall quickly agreed, sending an accompanying nod in Lore and
Soland’s direction.

“They aren’t just workers. Soland will be taking over the restoration of
the outside of the home and clearing of the forests. He’s somewhat of an
agricultural and building expert. And Lore will be his assistant.
They’re to be given every consideration when issuing orders. Is that
understood?”

Kyndall lowered her head though it galled her to act so subservient. “Of
course, Ms. Gallagher.”

Soland stood, completely confused. This compliant creature was /not/ the
woman he’d met on the driveway. Kyndall was afraid to confront Shayla or
tell the truth in front of her for some unknown reason. Had the
Sorceress threatened her? He was certain the fiery little minx didn’t
know a thing about the Order, or Shayla would have gone ahead and
introduced Lore and himself by their true titles. And when Shayla stood
up and brought Autumn forward, he couldn’t miss the unmistakable
resentment in Kyndall’s eyes as she followed the Sorceress’ movements.

“Have you met Autumn?” Shayla addressed Kyndall again.

“I saw you from the woods,” Autumn happily said as she looked up at
Kyndall. “You’re pretty.”

Kyndall immediately knelt to the little girl’s level and smiled. “Thank
you. And Autumn is a beautiful name. It’s my favorite season of the
year.” The tyke really was a little doll. And Kyndall truly liked kids.
Especially before they had been taught to hate or to be cruel. “Why were
you in the woods?”

“Hiding until Daddy came to get me.”

When Autumn glanced toward Soland, Kyndall realized where she’d seen
those spring green eyes before. Wisely, Soland had kept his daughter
from the fight by having her hide until the coast was clear. She had to
give him points for having that much brain power. Kyndall watched as the
very large man hefted his daughter gently into his arms. The expression
he wore was one of infinite tenderness. Clearly he doted on his
daughter. And something inside made Kyndall regret that he was married.
But she quickly shook that off as none of her concern. She had no use
for men at all. None.

“Well, since the introductions are all made, why don’t you take Autumn
upstairs to her new room, Kyndall. It’s the small one next to yours.
I’ll send up some tea and food. I’m sure our newly arrived friends could
use some refreshment.”

Anxious for an excuse to get out of the room, Kyndall nodded.

“Yea! Could we have something sweet?” Autumn looked at Kyndall as she
asked the question and squirmed out of her father’s embrace.

Kyndall laughed and held out her arms. “I’m sure we can rustle something
up from the kitchen. Come on, honey. You’ll love your room. There’s a
window seat that looks right out on the garden. In the moonlight, the
flowers look like they’re glowing in the dark.”

Soland was shocked and more than a bit alarmed by his daughter’s
willingness to go into a stranger’s arms. Especially when that stranger
was an outsider and knew nothing of their magical heritage. He reached
out and gripped his daughter tightly to him for a moment.

“It’s all right, Soland. Let Autumn go with Kyndall. She has experience
looking after children. And that will leave us to talk and get to hear
some of Lady Dunnemore’s recommendations for the work. I know you and
Lore must be famished. It’s been a long journey from Wales.”

Soland could hardly ignore a direct order from the Sorceress. But
everything in him balked against giving his baby over into the hands of
an unknown outsider. Still, he reluctantly did as he was asked and
anxiously watched as Kyndall left the room, chattering brightly to his
little girl. Autumn didn’t seem a bit fazed by the encounter at all. In
fact, his brave little daughter was making him feel a bit like a
paranoid, overprotective idiot.

“Sit down and relax,” Lore advised as he clapped his friend on the
shoulder. “I sense nothing that tells me Kyndall will hurt little
Autumn. And the Sorceress trusts her.”

Soland nodded. It consoled him to hear the Fairy confirm something he
was beginning to realize. Still, it was an unnerving experience. His
deepest instincts drove him to protect his beloved child.

When Shayla was sure that Kyndall had disappeared up the stairs, she
closed the parlor doors with a wave of her hand. As usual, Anna was
delighted by the use of magic and began asking a plethora of questions.
Before the evening was over, both the Fairy and Satyr allowed the older
woman to see them in their true forms. But Shayla’s mind was on the
woman upstairs.

When Soland saw Shayla’s gaze drift toward the ceiling, he didn’t miss
the opportunity to question her. “Why doesn’t that Taylor woman know
about us yet?”

“I was wondering about that myself,” Lore chimed in as he lowered his
glass of whiskey.

Shayla smiled and poured herself another sherry. “When the time is
right, she’ll be told. But I’m afraid she’s too suspicious of my motives
for being here at the moment.”

Anna nodded. “Yes, the poor dear. She’s trying to protect me from a
woman she sees as trying to dupe me out of my home and money. Of course,
Kyndall doesn’t know that I understand how she feels. She’s so very
loyal. Given her background, it’s a wonder. But that’s one of the
reasons I love her so.”

Ignoring the remark about Kyndall’s background, Soland pursued a more
urgent line of questioning. “What are we supposed to do in the meantime?
The rest of the Satyrs and Lore’s people will be arriving by next week.
To do the work required, we need our full strength. And that means
working as we truly are, in our real forms. More to the point, Autumn
might say or do something that will cause suspicion. I’ve taught her not
to shape shift, but you see what she did right in front of Lady Dunnemore.”

Shayla lifted a hand in dismissal. “Your daughter’s senses in this
matter are far keener than you know. Autumn won’t shift in front of
Kyndall until she feels it’s right to do so. Lady Anna already knew
about her being a Satyr, the child realized that. So put your fears
aside and be calm. I wouldn’t have sent Autumn with her if I didn’t
trust that everything would be just fine.”

If that was supposed to make Soland feel better he didn’t. But Shayla
was all powerful and had the last say in this matter. Still, his fear
for his girl grew.

Lady Dunnemore spoke up to corroborate Shayla’s feelings on the matter.
“Oh, I can’t wait until Kyndall finds out what this is all about. If you
only knew what a love she is. I simply hate hiding things from her. If
you all only knew…she’s had quite a sad history but has managed to do
well with her life all the same.”

“/Quite/,” Shayla added.

*
*

Chapter Four

 

After sharing their meal, Kyndall was thoroughly entranced with the
little girl. Autumn was bright, and “four years old going on five”, as
she insisted. And she asked about a thousand questions. During the first
few moments after entering the room, however, there was a strange moment
when the girl saw where she’d be staying.

Autumn stared for a long time, then walked around and ran her little
hands over all the furniture. It was almost as if the child hadn’t ever
seen anything so grand. Kyndall finally chalked it up to being in a
castle. As the daughter of working-class parents, this was probably her
first experience with anything so unusual. In truth, Kyndall had done
the same exact thing when she had first seen her own room next door. It
had been like walking into a fairy tale. It was a bit frightening to
realize that it all could end, for /her/, very suddenly.

“Well, I guess you must be tired after such a long trip. Didn’t I hear
Ms. Gallagher say that you had traveled all the way from Wales?”

“Uh huh,” Autumn replied, “we had to walk a lot of the way ’cause Daddy
said it wasn’t safe to use a car ’til we left the hills.”

Kyndall’s mouth dropped open in surprise. Soland must have had a home
that was very isolated. Especially if a car of some sort couldn’t make
it to where they lived. But there were a lot of old cottages like that
around the British Isles. That explained why Autumn was, once again,
wandering around the room staring at everything. The little girl’s eyes
were big, round and filled with awe.

“Is this really my room?”

“Of course it is. And this is your bed, which you probably ought to
think about getting into.”

Autumn smiled. “I always have my bath first.”

Kyndall warmed to her. The little girl was capturing a part of her heart
already that she’d thought was quite dead. “You know what?”

“What?” Autumn took Kyndall’s outstretched hand.

“Would you like a nice bubble bath? I’ve got some in my room and I’ll
share with you.”

Autumn stared.

Perplexed by her non-responsiveness, Kyndall knelt in front of her.
“What’s wrong, honey?”

“What is that?”

Kyndall was dumbfounded for a moment. “You mean what’s a bubble bath?”

Autumn nodded.

“Well, it’s a bath where you put some stuff in the water and the stuff
makes lots of bubbles. It’s fun.”

“Ohhhh, can I try some please?” Autumn hopped up and down, clasping her
hands in front of her.

When the child put her hands together so sweetly and her little eyes
took on an endearingly expectant expression, Kyndall couldn’t wait to
get the bottle of bubble bath and let Autumn try some. “You wait right
here in case your dad comes looking for you. And I’ll go next door to my
room and get the bubble stuff.” It only took her a couple of minutes to
rummage in her own bathroom for the bottle and some nice body powder.
She ran back into the room, ready to have some fun.

“Is that the bubble stuff?” Autumn pointed at the bottle Kyndall held in
one hand.

“Yep. And I’ve got some nice powder too. Come on, honey, let’s get the
bath water ready.” Again, Kyndall was amazed as she saw Autumn’s
reaction to the bathroom. The large, white-tiled room had a large,
free-standing tub in one corner. Just like the bath in her own room.
Lady Dunnemore had spared no expense in making sure the bathrooms were
beautifully appointed with the latest fixtures. But as she watched the
little girl’s response, Kyndall began to wonder whether Autumn’s
upbringing was even more primitive than she’d first surmised.

“This is soooo nice,” Autumn whispered. “And it’s right in my room an’
everything.”

The comment confirmed Kyndall’s suspicions, and she remembered a time
when she was young and nice things had been impossible to come by. Some
people, no matter how hard they worked, couldn’t help not having enough
money. It was a fact of life that not everyone could live like Lady
Dunnemore. But it was to their mutual advantage that the Lady of the
castle chose to share her home with others less fortunate. It made
Kyndall love Anna Dunnemore even more.

“Have you got a nightgown to change into?”

Autumn nodded. “I think Daddy left our stuff by the door downstairs. My
stuff is in the little brown bag with his.”

“Okay. I’m going to start the bath water and go down and get your
things. You wait right here until I get back.”

“I will, Kyndall, and I won’t touch nothin’ and break it either.”

Kyndall stopped arranging towels and bath accoutrements to kneel before
the child. “Honey, things aren’t as important as people. You can always
get new stuff. But if you really want to look at something, and you’re
afraid of picking it up, you come get me. Okay?”

Autumn smiled and put her arms around Kyndall’s neck. “I like you, Kyndall.”

“I like you, too, pumpkin.” Kyndall’s hard heart melted. She could count
the times anyone had said that to her on the fingers of one hand, and
still have fingers left over. She smoothed back Autumn’s pretty curls
then stood up to go get the child’s belongings.

As with the bath items, it only took Kyndall a few moments to find a
backpack at the foot of the stairs. Tied to it was a brown bag Autumn
had described. To be sure it was the right one, Kyndall opened it and
quickly rifled through the contents. She gasped at what she found, then
headed back to the bedroom.

“Autumn, is this the bag you were talking about?”

“Uh-huh. That’s mine. See?” She took the bag and opened it. “Here’s my
ball, an’ this is my stuff.”

“And this is all you have?”

Oblivious to the real meaning of the question, Autumn nodded and
continued sorting through her belongings.

To keep from crying, Kyndall quickly blinked her eyes and took a deep
breath. What little there was of the clothing was almost threadbare. One
small pair of jeans had been patched many times. And there was one pair
of old tennis shoes with holes in the toes. Three pairs of much-mended
socks, another calico shift, a few pairs of underwear, two shirts and an
old jacket rounded out the entire contents of Autumn’s bag. Everything
was clean. But there was so little of it. There were no other toys
except for a very notched-up red rubber ball the little girl took
lovingly and one old storybook. It all hit too close to home for
Kyndall. She remembered another girl very much like Autumn. Memories
flooded through her and it /hurt/.

“What’s wrong, Kyndall?”

Kyndall shook off the sadness and blinked away the tears. “Oh nothing. I
need to get the bubble bath in the water for you. You pick out something
you want to wear to bed. Okay?” She quickly turned away so the girl
wouldn’t see her face.

As the bath proceeded, there was little time for sad reminiscing. Autumn
was absolutely precious. She was astounded over the bubbles and played
until Kyndall had to laugh in response. That such a small thing could
bring such joy was wonderful. Finally, the little girl was freshly
scrubbed from head to toe, wrapped in a large, fluffy towel and
thoroughly dried. Autumn dressed herself as Kyndall started a fire in
the fireplace. Again, the girl was completely befuddled by having her
own fireplace. It was almost unbearable to see her don the other little
calico shift for a nightgown. A child should at least have a soft
nightie. Not that she had one herself when she was that age and even
older. But her own lack of necessary possessions back then made Kyndall
want to help the little girl all the more.

“Where will Daddy stay?”

“I’m sure he’ll be very near and he’ll want to tuck you in, won’t he?”

“’Course. He always does. But we had to stay in the same room at our
house before. It didn’t have so many places to sleep.”

“All right, sprout. Let’s get ready to meet the sandman.” Kyndall
laughed and lifted the giggling, squirmy tot into the large, warm bed.

“What’s the sandman?”

“Well, that’s the person who comes to sprinkle magic dust into your eyes
to make you close them and go to sleep.” For a moment, Autumn stopped
her playful squirming and stared at Kyndall.

“The Pixies can do that too.”

Kyndall smiled and brushed back the long brown curls. “They do?”

“Uh-huh. If you leave the windows open, they’ll come.”

“Well, why don’t I open the window just a little so they can squeeze
inside? I don’t think it’ll be too chilly.” Kyndall got up to crack open
the window then sat back down on the side of the bed. She was enchanted
with the idea of engaging in a bit of folklore with the little girl. It
was fun.

“Will you stay with me ’til Daddy comes?”

Kyndall gently tucked some blankets around the girl. It was quite
natural that Autumn would ask such a thing. She was in a brand new
place, and probably a little scared. “Of course I will. Now, you lie
down and close your eyes. Your dad will be here before you know it. And
I’ll sing a song I know. It’ll help you sleep and have sweet dreams.”

“Okay, Kyndall. But don’t leave.”

“I won’t, baby. I promise.” It was the first time anyone besides Lady
Anna had ever needed her. And she felt warm and necessary all at the
same time.

From the partially open bedroom door, Soland watched the scene unfold.
He wanted to walk inside the room but couldn’t. Something, an emotion he
couldn’t name, kept him from revealing himself. Even to Autumn. And when
Kyndall’s sweet, perfect voice filled the air, he backed away so as not
to be seen. The lullaby was one he knew well. Most parents the world
over sang it to their children at one time or another. But he’d never
heard any voice so pure and melodic. Kyndall could have sung
professionally anywhere she chose. To a musically inclined race such as
his, the rendering of the song was mesmerizing. But it wasn’t just the
music that confounded him. It was the comfort and ease with which
Kyndall fell into caring for a child and the same readiness with which
his little one responded.

When the song finally ended, he took a deep breath and walked quietly
into the room. The ill-tempered outsider he’d thought her disappeared.
In that person’s place, a lovely vision sat on the side of the bed
tucking blankets around his sleeping baby. Then she leaned forward and
kissed Autumn gently on the forehead. Her smile was serene and open.
Kyndall’s hair fell forward in a red-brown curtain and framed her
stunning features.

“Sleep well, little one.” Kyndall quietly rose to sit in a chair. She
promised Autumn she wouldn’t leave until her father showed up. And a
promise to a child had to be kept. It was such a promise Kyndall would
never break.

“Thanks. I’ll take it from here,” Soland murmured.

Startled, Kyndall quickly stood up and turned. “How long have you been
there?”

“I just walked in,” he lied. “Why?”

She shook her head. “Nothing. I just put her to sleep. She ate well, had
a bath and went right to bed.”

“No problems?”

“No. She’s a perfect angel.” Kyndall glanced back at the sleeping form
and smiled. “Well…I’ll go.”

“Thank you, Kyndall.”

When she got to the door, Kyndall turned back. “Where is her mother?
Will she be coming along later?”

“Autumn’s mother died giving birth.”

“Oh I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”

“It’s all right. Thank you again.” When she turned to leave the room he
stopped her with a question. “Why did you lie to Shayla about what
happened with the poachers? I thought you were angry about my interfering.”

“I just don’t want any trouble, that’s all. And I’m sorry I bit your
head off about that.” She shrugged. “It’s just my way. You’ll get used
to it.”

“I guess I did come on a bit strong. I’ll try to remember you know the
locals better than I. None of us wants any trouble.” He reiterated her
own concerns.

Kyndall almost smiled, nodded slightly, then quickly left the room.

Soland looked down at the little girl. His baby had a sweet smile on her
little face, and it occurred to him that she’d never fallen asleep
without his tucking her in. Until now. He backed away, sat in a chair
and stretched out his legs. His own room was across the hall, but it
wouldn’t do to have Autumn awaken in a strange place without him near.
And it wasn’t as if he could sleep anyway. He had plenty to ponder. Much
of it having to do with what he’d just been told about Kyndall.

* * * * *

Kyndall hadn’t remembered going to sleep, but she rested very well. Her
troubles with Shayla, for the time being, seemed to be sinking into the
background. It would be fun to have a little girl in the house. And her
mind made plans to help keep the youngster occupied. Surely Lady Anna
and Shayla wouldn’t mind her spending time with Autumn. There were no
children for her to play with for miles. The little girl couldn’t just
sit in a room and stare at the walls or go outside and expect to keep
occupied with her one toy ball.

When she entered the breakfast room off the kitchen, Autumn was talking
to the new cook and eating a bowl of Irish oatmeal the locals called
porridge. “Good morning, Autumn. Did you sleep well in your new room?”

“Good morning, Kyndall. I slept cozy. Daddy was in a big chair all night.”

“He was?”

“Uh-huh. And he said you stayed until he got there.”

Kyndall passed her some brown sugar and watched as the child ate
heartily. She filled her own bowl with the hot porridge and poured
herself some juice. Apparently, her father hadn’t wanted to leave her
alone in a strange place either. That won a few more points on his
behalf as far as she was concerned. But what he did was really his own
business. Not hers. It was just nice to know a man could love his child
and be so concerned for her. That was a very rare thing in her experience.

“Daddy is out in the woods with Lore. They had their porridge earlier
and went out ’specting.”

“Doing what?” She stopped what she was doing to listen more closely.

“They went into the woods to look around.”

Kyndall giggled. “You mean /in/specting?”

“Uh-huh. I think they’ll be back very soon though.”

“And where are Lady Dunnemore and Ms. Gallagher?”

“I haven’t seen them.”

“Oh. Well, I guess it’s just you and me then.”

“Can we go outside and play after breakfast?”

“I don’t see why not. It’s a wonderful day. But we should let your dad
know where you are.”

The rest of the breakfast went by in wonderful conversation. Autumn was
filled with plans for what she wanted to do outside. First, there were
the gardens to explore and flowers to look at. Then she wanted to see
the birds and walk around and see some of the large trees. It amazed
Kyndall how polite she was. Her table manners were impeccable. The
little girl even took her bowl to the sink when she was through eating.

“That’s very good, honey. Did your dad teach you that?”

“He says I have to do chores. Just like back home. Only I don’t know
what I’m ’posed to do yet.”

The sound of men talking echoed in the outer hallway. The swinging
kitchen door burst open.

Lore marched in, grabbed a bowl, kissed the laughing cook on the cheek
and sat down. Autumn laughed at his good-natured antics. Kyndall found
it hard not to smile as well. The Irish were so lovable. He was wearing
blue jeans, a work shirt and hiking boots. It was clear his work was
already started though he’d only arrived the night before.

“Top of the mornin’ to you, Kyndall.”

“And the rest of the day to you,” she laughingly responded.

“Ahhhh, I knew there was some blarney in you to be sure. Only an
Irishman would know how to respond the right way.”

As they continued their banter, Soland suddenly walked in. Kyndall
almost spewed a mouthful of juice across the table but quickly recovered
her composure. He was dressed all in dark brown leather. His long, brown
hair was tied back with some kind of silver ornament that looked Celtic.
There was some kind of long-sleeved leather shirt, laced halfway up the
front and covering the upper part of his rock-hard torso. Tight leather
pants hugged an equally tight butt, flat abdomen and long muscular legs.
Tall, leather boots stopped just below his knees. And of all things,
there was a very large knife tucked into the top of his right boot.

“Is that what you’re supposed to be wearing?” Lore muttered in a low
voice and glanced toward Kyndall.

Soland pointedly looked at Kyndall as he straddled a chair, bowl of
porridge in one hand. “I don’t see why not. She’s got to find out sooner
or later.”

Kyndall knew the /she/ who was being commented on was her. She glanced
from the cook to Lore as they both stared at Soland. Apparently, they
found his mode of dress exceedingly inappropriate, just as she did. He
looked like a refugee from a medieval movie set. Even Autumn was staring
at her father oddly. Though /she/ was considering his Halloweenish garb
as highly unusual, the others seemed to act as though the man had done
something punishable. It was as if Soland had committed some kind of
sacrilege. The cook quickly fled the room muttering something about
hoping Shayla didn’t find out.

Kyndall wondered what business it was of Shayla Gallagher’s what the
employees wore. Then she swallowed hard, trying not to stare at the
exposed pectorals, made more massive by the open vee in the middle of
Soland’s leather shirt. “Um, is that some kind of clothing worn in Wales?”

“No. Well, not by normal people anyway.”

Lore threw down his napkin. “All right, m’ lad. If you want trouble on
your backside, don’t drag me into it. I’ll be waiting for you in the
forest. If there’s anything left to wait for once Shayla is through with
you.”

Soland continued his breakfast as though nothing unusual happened. He
even winked at Autumn as Lore stormed out of the kitchen.

“Daddy, you’re not ’posed to wear that in front of Kyndall,” she softly
relayed.

He smiled. “You’re right, /‘m asgre/. I’m not, am I?”

Autumn looked at Kyndall. “You won’t tell, will you?”

At the fearful look in the little girl’s eyes, Kyndall quickly reached
across the table and took her little hand in her larger one. “Honey,
what anyone wears is no one else’s business. If your dad will be working
in the woods, maybe what he’s wearing is the right thing.”

“It is,” Soland agreed, then smiled at Autumn. “Don’t worry, /‘m
anwylyd/, Shayla was going to tell Ms. Taylor about us sooner or later.”

Autumn let out a huge sigh of relief. “Ohhhh, that’s good, Daddy. I
thought you were going to be in so much trouble.”

He laughed. “Were you worried about me, little hedgehog?”

“Yes, Daddy. But if you say it will be all right, then it will.” She
picked up a piece of toast and began smearing marmalade all over it.

Kyndall watched as Soland proceeded with his own breakfast. “What am I
missing here?”

Soland looked up and stared into those bright eyes. The woman was even
more lovely in the morning light. Her coloring reminded him of a basket
full of pretty fall leaves. “Let’s just say I’m letting a cat out of a
bag I didn’t think Shayla wanted loose yet.”

Autumn smiled at her father and said, “/Cara ’ch,/ Daddy.”

“I love you too, baby. But you keep your secret until I say, all right?”

“Yes, Daddy, I will.”

Kyndall poured herself some coffee, automatically refilled Soland’s,
then stared at him. He nodded his thanks as he crunched on a piece of
crisp toast. With the barely concealed secrecy concerning his outfit,
even an idiot would have known something was definitely wrong. She
waited for more to be said, but the father and daughter continued their
breakfast in silence. Wanting some way to keep the conversation going
and get it back to why Shayla and this man were both keeping something
from her, Kyndall took a deep breath and exhaled. “Was that Welsh you
were speaking?”

He nodded. “Aye.”

“It’s a beautiful-sounding language,” she offered.

Autumn took her hand. “I could teach you, Kyndall.”

“Aye, why don’t you do that, love? I’ll be working in the forest with
Lore and the others all day. I won’t be in until late tonight.” He
stopped, looked at Kyndall and swallowed some more coffee before
continuing. “Will you be able to look after her? Shayla says you’re to
be trusted, and she’ll be going over accounts with Lady Dunnemore for
the next few weeks. You’ll be the only one who’s free to watch Autumn.”

“Of course I can be trusted. You can ask Lady Dunnemore,” Kyndall
indignantly replied. Inwardly, she hoped he never found out about her
past. He wouldn’t let her look after the little girl if he knew. And she
really did want to look after Autumn. She had always been good with
kids, if not adults.

“I didn’t mean to make it sound as though you wouldn’t be a good
caretaker. But she’s my daughter, after all.” He nodded toward Autumn.
“Can you understand my concern? We only just met.”

Kyndall reeled in her temper. The first impression she’d made with him
was on the driveway. She’d have to overcome that if she wanted this
particular assignment. And she found the little girl very endearing. “Of
course. If the situation were reversed, I’d be concerned too. But I’ve
looked after children before. And Autumn has wonderful manners. She and
I will be fine together.”

He glanced at his daughter. “I’m very proud of her. She’s bright,
listens well and is as curious as a monkey. And the little whippet will
run your backside off. That’s a fact.”

The pride and love in his eyes was obvious. Kyndall believed that what
Autumn had been lacking in worldly goods was more than compensated for
with love and gentle instruction. She found herself wanting to know more
about Soland. “I can use the exercise. We’ll be fine,” she asserted.

“I like Kyndall, Daddy. We have fun.”

Soland rested his hand on her tiny head. “I guess that settles it. If
Autumn likes you, that’s what matters most.”

For the rest of the day, Kyndall played with Autumn and found herself
becoming more and more enchanted. Part of her heart warned that getting
too close to the girl wasn’t wise. But part of her so wanted to be like
Autumn…like the little girl she wished /she’d/ been. Kyndall thought of
all kinds of wonderful, fun, castle-like places to explore to keep the
little girl entertained. It also occurred to Kyndall that, by watching
the child, she and Shayla were on separate parts of the estate. She
couldn’t get into too much trouble if the Gallagher woman wasn’t around
and they were separated by acres of land. As long as she could be useful
and no trouble, Lady Dunnemore wouldn’t send her away. No matter what
Shayla said. At least, that’s what she hoped.

* * * * *

Soland took off his shirt and tossed it over a log. What he’d seen of
the forest so far was amazing. It would take a great deal of very hard
work to put it into shape. Even after the ground under the trees was
cleared, the Druids would have to bless the woods, Shayla would have to
sanctify the blessings and Pixies would need to plant the medicinal and
magical herbs the Order used in their daily lives. But he looked upon
the labor as a challenge. There was no one better to do the job than a
Satyr. For that, the Sorceress had picked the right race.

“That was a foolish stunt you pulled this morning,” Lore said as he
walked up and handed Soland a thermos filled with water.

“Maybe. But I don’t feel like watching every damned thing I do because
one outsider is among us. If Shayla trusts this woman, and she obviously
does, why not just tell her about us and get it over with?”

“That’s for the Sorceress to decide. Not you and me. The way you were
dressed is bound to have Kyndall asking a lot of questions.”

“She won’t go to Shayla to ask them.”

Lore tilted his head. “Why not?”

“That outsider is afraid of her for some reason. Didn’t you see the way
the woman cowered before Shayla when she twisted that story all around
about the poachers?”

“I was wondering about that. For some reason, I thought Kyndall might be
sweet on you all of a sudden and just wanted to give you the credit for
handling the incident,” Lore shoved the Satyr playfully.

“You air-headed Fairy,” Soland responded to the shoving by pushing back.
“She was just trying to play down the entire incident.”

“But those poachers will be back, won’t they? It might be like Kyndall
said. These local people can be rather clannish.”

“So can we,” Soland said with a warning note in his voice. “I catch any
of them caging animals, and they’ll be sorry for it.”

“Here now, boy-o, you’re not going to get me off the subject of the
lovely Ms. Taylor all that easy.”

Soland laughed. “She /is/ pretty,” he reluctantly admitted. And a
picture of Kyndall when he’d first seen her on that driveway came to his
mind all over again. Tall, slender, with a lovely, heart-shaped face,
her skin had an alabaster glow in the evening light. Her high cheekbones
slanted down to a full mouth and he remembered the bronze-colored
lipstick she wore. Then there was all that warm, red-brown hair. It was
enough to make any man’s lower parts come to attention. And he’d been
alone for a long time.

“What are you thinking?” Lore queried, knowing what was on the Satyr’s
mind. But heckling him into saying it was amusing.

Soland raised one brow and turned to his Fairy friend. “I’m thinking we
should get back to surveying the forest.”

“You’ll work us both to death,” Lore grumbled, then picked up his staff
and moved forward.

Soland followed, but his mind wasn’t on the job anymore. He wanted to
make a short day of it and get back to the castle. Too much work stood
before them, however, and the deeper they went into the thick growth,
the more he appreciated the leather he was wearing. Before the day
turned into night, Lore would be back into the traditional leather
clothing of the Order as well. Despite the lovely Kyndall Taylor’s
presence or Shayla’s wrath, the woods harbored dense thickets of nasty
vines and piercing shrubs. They need the protection that leather
clothing offered.

As the two men walked on, a small circle of wind followed. Intent on
only one thing, the spirit within the wind watched Soland closely.
“/Warm and close to warmth is where a Satyr needs to be. You’ve been
alone too long, my love. And Autumn needs a woman in her life.”/

Soland turned to look behind him. “Did you hear something?”

Lore listened for a moment before answering. “No. We’re far too deep
into these woods for anyone to be around. And we should sense an
outsider long before hearing them.”

“I guess you’re right. Being off protected land has me on edge. The
sooner we get this business over with, the better off we’ll all be.”

Lore nodded in agreement. “Let’s keep on then.”

By nightfall, both men were tired from cutting their way through brush
since almost sunup. While Satyrs could work at any time of the day or
night, Fairies were almost always more comfortable when keeping
nocturnal habits. To keep outsiders from hearing or seeing the work
being done at odd hours, Soland had chosen to work during the day and
maintain human form. It was the only way to keep anyone from asking
questions. Normal people would never be out in these woods at night.
Still, Lore and the other Fairies would have to be accommodated.

“When my people get here, I’ll make up shifts where yours will be able
to guard at night. The Satyrs and Trolls will do the cutting and
clearing during the day.”

Lore looked over his shoulder and called back, “You’ll /need/ the damned
Trolls. Come up and look at this bloody hole.”

Soland made his way forward and saw what the Fairy did. “Damn!” He
stared at a very deep crevasse that ran from east to west as far as the
eye could see. It was about twenty feet wide with thick vines and gorse
growing on both sides. He picked up a rock and dropped it into the
gaping darkness below them. When it took a full five seconds to hit
bottom, both men looked at each other.

“Trolls,” both of them agreed in unison.

Soland knew that, of all creatures in the Order, only the Trolls could
build a bridge that would safely span the chasm. And it would have to be
done before they could securely explore any further. “How did this chasm
get here?”

“Like as not it originated on our own sacred land, miles away. Probably
worn deep by an underground spring,” Lore reasoned.

“Damned nuisance! A child could be killed wandering too close to this.”

Lore glared down into the abyss. “That’s a fact, my friend. But there’s
nothing we can do about this right now. Let’s get back to the castle,
get a hot bath and some food. We’ll discuss it with the Sorceress later
tonight.”

“Aye,” Soland agreed. They turned away from the ravine and started the
long journey back.

By the time they reached Dunnemore Castle, it was almost midnight.
Soland and Lore were strong men, but each had been working physically
hard all day. They decided to pass on the meal, call it a night and
discuss their findings with the Sorceress in the morning. They climbed
the stairs together, then separated to find their own rooms and a nice
warm bed.

When he reached his room, filthy, tired and ill-tempered from finding
that deep ravine, Soland pulled off his leather gloves and stretched.
Before succumbing to the luxury of a hot shower, however, he wanted to
peek in on Autumn. She’d been in his mind all day long and he hoped the
wee thing was acclimating to her new environment. It concerned him that
his work would keep him away from her for long hours. Plus, his schedule
would probably be erratic for many months though his work had to be
done. The Sorceress and the rest of the Order were counting on him.
Still, he couldn’t seek his own rest or comfort without making sure his
baby was safe and happy first.

Carefully opening the door to Autumn’s room, Soland crept forward and
stared down at the beautiful little girl sleeping. She was all tucked
into bed, warm and fast asleep. He lifted his hand to touch her cheek,
saw the grime on the back of his wrist then shook his head. He’d /have
/to have that hot shower, then he’d hold his daughter.

It puzzled him that Kyndall wasn’t near. Being so new to the castle, he
fretted that Autumn would awaken in a strange environment without
someone she knew nearby. He snorted. So much for trusting an outsider to
look after his child. He quickly shrugged out of his leather jerkin,
walked across the hall for his bathrobe, then returned. As tired as he
was, he’d watch his own child through the night by stretching out on the
large chair as he had before. Making use of the bathroom in Autumn’s
room, Soland closed the door and turned on the water. While shedding
himself of the rest of his clothing, his eyes fell on a pink plastic
bottle sitting on a small stool.

“Bubble bath?” He shrugged, glanced at the door, then playfully grinned.
If Autumn could use it, and he assumed she’d been happy to try the
stuff, maybe he could too. He liberally squeezed the thick pink goo into
the tub as the directions indicated and smiled when fluffy white bubbles
began to foam up. Hoping to shake off the chill of the night, he stepped
into the large tub and settled in.

He sighed in gratification as the bubbles surrounded him. There was an
ambient floral fragrance associated with the bath suds that he found
rather relaxing. It was pure hedonism that caused him to sink below the
water and rise a few seconds later. “Now this is living,” he murmured.
He pushed back his long wet hair and grabbed up a soft, yellow wash
cloth from a stack nearby. He began to scrub himself and alternately soak.

Kyndall finally found the old floral quilt she’d seen in the hall linen
closet. She’d promised Autumn she could use it on her bed to make the
room a bit more cheerful and less austere. It would be nice surprise
when the little girl woke up in the morning and would certainly do her
some good to have a few more feminine things around. Especially as it
had probably been many years since any child had stayed at Dunnemore.

Autumn’s room, as with all of the accommodations, was beautiful. But a
child needed bright, happy surroundings. Kyndall made a mental list of
items a little girl might like, and was formulating fun plans as she
walked down the hall.

When she found the room to Autumn’s door open, Kyndall stopped short in
alarm. She heard the bath running and didn’t even pause to glance at the
bed. Autumn appeared to have gotten up in the middle of the night to
play with her new bottle of bubble bath. It had taken every ounce of
conniving to get the imp out of the tub earlier. Kyndall dropped the
quilt over the back of a chair, pushed up the sleeves of her bath robe
and prepared to do battle with little Miss Leigh. She determinedly
pushed the bathroom door open and marched in.

“All right, you little rascal. Out of that bath and right into bed…”
Kyndall stopped. She felt her eyes go saucer-wide and quickly turned her
back on the very masculine, tan form in the tub.

Soland didn’t bother moving. Adult Satyrs weren’t modest creatures and
Kyndall’s response to him was highly amusing. “I’d like to comply, but I
take exception to that ‘little rascal’ part. In fact, I’m not /little/
at all.”

“Holy crud!” Kyndall muttered. She could feel her entire body turning
red with intense embarrassment. “I-I didn’t…I thought you were Autumn. I
just went down the hall for a few minutes.”

“My daughter is sound asleep on her bed.”

She held up one hand in dismay and embarrassment. “L-look, I’m really
sorry. She was so playful tonight, I thought she got up and… Oh, never
mind.” Kyndall exited as gracefully as the situation would allow.

“Hold it.”

For some stupid reason, she immediately complied but kept her back to
the large, nude man. She could only assume he’d be nude beneath that
wall of bubbles. Of course he was. Men didn’t take baths with clothing on.

“Hand me my robe, will you?”

She swallowed hard, picked up a black robe lying on the vanity and held
it behind her. It seemed an eternity while he got out of the bath. Then
her temper overcame the embarrassment of the situation. The man actually
took his own sweet time drying himself before taking the robe. She could
hear him rubbing that huge, athletic body dry as she stood with her back
to him and waited.

“Would you mind taking this so I can leave?” she angrily urged. To make
her point, she pushed the large robe farther behind her body. That she
didn’t just drop it and leave made her even more annoyed. Why was she
standing there waiting on /him/ as if she were his maid?

He slowly took the robe and watched as the tall, auburn-haired beauty
stalked out of the bathroom. When he walked into the bedroom, she was
standing by the fireplace staring into the flames. Her arms were crossed
over her ample breasts and it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure
out Kyndall was very angry. He glanced at Autumn, sleeping as if nothing
could awaken her.

Soland couldn’t help breaking into a grin. Centuries ago his kind had
played just such jokes on unsuspecting human travelers. It would have
been nothing in the Middle Ages for a wandering knight or a group of
maids to come upon a small pool and see naked Satyrs cavorting with
their genetically related cousins, the Nymphs. Many fantasies had begun
with just such a scenario. The wildly embellished stories outsiders told
always ended with lies about an ensuing wild orgy. And always /after/
his kind had plied their resistant human captives with wine and song.
But some outsiders would do even worse and awaken the next morning with
massive hangovers, telling unholy tales about being set upon by fiendish
woodland characters. All that just to cover up where they’d really spent
the night—and with whom. He wondered what ending there would have been
if Kyndall had seen him bathing nude in a moonlit pool. In the summer’s
heat, it was a favorite thing for Satyrs and Nymphs to do. But it wasn’t
summer yet. And Kyndall wasn’t a wandering maid from a medieval castle.
Seeing the way she had handled that poacher, the woman would probably
find a blade and lop off something he considered very vital.

“I’m sorry if I embarrassed you, Kyndall. That wasn’t my intention. But
I thought Autumn was alone and I didn’t want to leave her.”

“I told you, I was only gone a few minutes,” she bit out. “And what if
she’d walked in on you?”

“My daughter has been taught to respect the privacy inferred by a closed
bathroom door.”

“Are you decent?”

He smirked. “I have a bathrobe on, if that’s what you mean.”

Kyndall slowly turned. “I told you that I’d never leave her alone. And I
didn’t, really. I was only gone for just a short while.”

“Yes, you did. And I’m sorry I thought you’d gone for the night.” He
shook back his wet hair. “I’ll be back in a moment. Don’t leave.”

When he walked out the door, Kyndall let out a long breath. She was
tucking the floral quilt around Autumn when he walked back in and
quietly closed the door. He had a determined look in his green eyes that
startled her.

“I need you, Kyndall.” He walked slowly and deliberately forward.

She backed toward the fireplace, and her heart began to pound. What
could he possibly want from her?

*
*

Chapter Five

 

“E-excuse me?” she mumbled.

He held up his hairbrush. “I need your help. It’s easier for someone
else to brush out this damned mess. Usually Autumn helps me.”

She took a very deep, relieved breath. “Oh.” Then took the brush from
his hand.

When he knelt before the fireplace, Kyndall rolled her eyes and sat on a
nearby footstool. “Why don’t you just cut it?”

“It’s the tradition of our people to wear our hair as we’ve always done.
Still, I guess it could use a bit of a trim.” He fingered the ends of
one long strand and considered the uneven edges.

Her hands wavered for a moment before starting. She decided the best
course of action was to just pretend the long, gleaming tresses were
Autumn’s. Up close, the man was absolutely massive. His shoulders could
do the blocking for an entire football team. Her hands gently worked
from the scalp back and Kyndall couldn’t help noticing how thick and
luxurious the man’s hair was. “I was wrong.”

“Pardon?”

“It would be a shame to cut this.”

He smiled, then closed his eyes and basked in the feel of a woman’s
hands running through his hair. It had been a very long time.

Kyndall continued to brush. Making some attempt at conversation on any
topic seemed more appropriate than the intense silence. “So how was your
day?”

“Long. And we came upon a bit of a problem deep in the woods.”

“What’s wrong?”

“There’s a large ravine running on this half of the forest. It probably
came from an underground aquifer, since there’s no sign of running
groundwater nearby.”

“What will you do about it? I mean, it isn’t like too many people would
be out there.”

Little did she know. He decided not to lie or prevaricate. “Yes, there
will be people there. Quite a lot in fact.”

Kyndall’s hands stopped working. “Why? What in the world would anyone be
doing that far from the castle?”

He turned his head to look at her. “There’ll be a lot of people living
on the land, Kyndall. And you should go to the…to Shayla and get her to
tell you the truth.” He’d almost used Shayla’s proper title as the
/Sorceress/. But if Shayla didn’t tell her soon, he would. Kyndall was
with his daughter all day. The woman wasn’t stupid. She’d begin to
suspect something when Autumn was around her for a longer period of
time. The little girl wasn’t like ordinary children.

“What’s Shayla up to?”

“She isn’t what she seems.”

“So I’ve gathered. Is she here to hurt Lady Anna?” Kyndall suspiciously
asked.

“No. Lady Dunnemore invited us. All of us. At least, that’s what Lore
has told me.”

“Who is /us/?”

He looked over the silk, floral gown she wore. The front of it opened
just above the creamy valley between her full breasts. Soland was
physically warmed by being so near such a striking woman. “I don’t think
I should say any more right now.” He turned his head away and tried not
to look at her. His blood was already heating.

Kyndall picked up the brush again and kept working it through his hair.
Being so near the fire was helping, but the thick mass would require a
lot more time to thoroughly dry. She slowed her movements and gently
pulled the brush from his scalp all the way back to the ends of his full
mane.

Soland exhaled deeply. “That feels good.”

“Why won’t you tell me what’s going on?”

He smiled. “It isn’t as if I don’t want to. But if I did, she’d have my
arse in a sling.”

A sudden, intemperate breeze blew the window open and a chill entered
the room. Kyndall quickly got up to close it, but the windowpane seemed
to be stuck. From behind her, Soland easily reached over her head and
pushed the panel closed. She wrapped her arms about herself to ward off
the cold. He placed his on her shoulders and slowly turned her to face
him. With the back of one hand, he lifted a thick section of her hair up
and let it fall over her shoulder.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen hair this color.”

“People with hair like mine are said to be very bad tempered.”

He shot her a brilliant smile. “I don’t know how in the world anyone
could attribute such a thing to you.”

She dropped her head and tried not to laugh. “Me? I’m an angel.”

“Maybe you are,” he replied, but the serious tone in his voice surprised
her into looking up. Her eyes took on a soft, intense look.

How had she let a man get this physically close to her when she
distrusted them so much? “I-I think maybe we should go to bed. It’s very
late,” she murmured.

The scene of a bedroom with them both in it slipped into his
consciousness. What she’d innocently implanted in his mind guaranteed he
wouldn’t be sleeping any time soon. His Satyr’s blood was very hot now.
“You’re a beautiful woman, Kyndall.” He ran his fingers over the
straight, soft tresses once more. “No one here means to hurt Lady
Dunnemore or you. I hope you remember that when the truth comes out.”

She stared and opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

“Good night.” He quickly turned, approached the bed and kissed Autumn’s
cheek before tucking the blankets around her more closely. Without
looking at Kyndall again, he exited the room.

Kyndall was left standing there, his brush still in her hand. “What the
hell was that all about?” she whispered to herself. And why was her
breathing so deep and uneven? All right, he was a side of beef. He was
still nothing to her.

Outside in the garden, the breeze blew against the window again. And the
spirit within it tumbled an empty clay pot on the ground in frustration.
“/What is it going to take? I can’t do it all for you, my love. You’ll
have to make the first move. She can’t.”/

Soland quickly closed the door to his room and leaned against the brown
oak. The rough feel of it against his palms did nothing to quench the
desire racing through his frame. While his mind kept telling him she was
an outsider, his body was raging with passionate need. He paced the
floor for a few moments and knew he’d get no peace until the desire
within him was fully addressed. Pulling off his robe and letting it
slide to the floor, he lay on the soft, down-filled covers of his bed
and let his body luxuriate in the feel of the fabric against his bare
back, thighs and buttocks. He closed his eyes and took care of the
problem the only way any man might. Only then, in the early hours of the
morning, did he finally fall asleep.

* * * * *

The next morning, Kyndall was on her third cup of coffee when he walked
into the room. He quickly kissed Autumn, asked how she slept and made
some obligatory remarks about the day. Kyndall poured him a cup of
coffee, but his eyes kept shifting away from her.

“You must be starving. Lore already left with some of the other workers
and said neither of you had a proper meal since noon yesterday.”

“No. I’m not all that hungry. I’ll just have some coffee and fix
something for a meal later.” He smiled at Autumn who was busily tearing
apart a generous muffin. “I’m sorry I was gone all day, love.”

“It’s all right, Daddy. Kyndall says you’re going to have to work very
hard.”

“That’s right. But you don’t miss me?”

She got up and raced around the table to where he sat. “’Course I do.
But you’ll be home more, huh?”

He chuckled, picked her up and hugged her against his chest. “That might
take some time, little one.” He turned his attention to Kyndall. “I’m
going to have to find Shayla and tell her about the work we did yesterday.”

“I think she’s in the parlor with Lady Anna,” Kyndall supplied. “But you
really should eat something. You can’t work hard without a good breakfast.”

He finally raised his eyes to meet hers. They had the same look as when
she sat by the firelight on the previous evening. A man could do worse
than have a lovely girl like her beside him, on the floor by the fire.
But he quickly cleared his mind of such things. There was too much work
to do for entertaining such thoughts. There was also her history to
consider.

“I’ll just take some extra fruit along.”

Kyndall sighed. “Whatever you say.” His welfare was none of her concern.

After hugging Autumn goodbye and promising to look in on her when he got
home, Soland made his way to the parlor. Lady Dunnemore and Shayla were
sitting at a desk with printouts of what appeared to be financial records.

“Good morning, Soland.” Shayla stood up and poured herself some tea from
a pot.

After greeting the Sorceress and Lady Dunnemore, Soland quickly helped
himself to some of the tea, knowing the Sorceress would only drink a
special blend the Fairies made. “Did Lore tell you about the ravine on
the north side of the forest?”

“He did. And Lady Dunnemore says she doesn’t remember any gorge that
deep on the property.”

“Goodness no,” Anna agreed. “I do remember some old remnants of a formal
garden, columns and things that were overgrown with vines. All very
Greek. Then there were some fountains and walkways. But nothing like a
ravine the size Lore described.”

“It probably started out as something much smaller. Over the years, rain
and erosion have made it what it is. When the Trolls get here, I’ll have
a bridge put over it and a retaining wall placed on either side for as
far as it stretches. We’ll just have to warn everyone to stay away from
the edge and see that the children do so as well.” Though he knew their
night vision and other senses could probably keep everyone safe around
the gaping ravine, there was always the possibility of an accident. He
meant to see that nothing happened if he could prevent it. That was his
job. It was to everyone’s advantage that Trolls loved to live under
bridges and would probably stake a claim on that part of the land.

“The Trolls are already here,” Shayla informed him. “They arrived late
last night and set up camp on the other side of the forest. Lore met
with them this morning. And the guards are all in place.”

“That makes my job much easier,” Soland nodded. “I’ll be off then.”

Shayla raised one hand to stop him. “One moment, Soland. I’d like to
have a word with you first.”

Something in her tone had that /I’ve got a problem and the cause is you/
quality. He bid Lady Dunnemore a good day. The older woman seemed very
excited at the idea of seeing real Trolls. He sighed, wiped the amused
smile from his face at Anna’s excited babbling and followed Shayla out
into the garden.

“Yes, Sorceress?”

“I’m concerned about Autumn.”

Soland raised an eyebrow in alarm. “What do you mean?”

“She has hardly a stitch to wear and very little in the way of books or
educational supplies. Why is that?”

“We just came through some very hard times, Shayla. I don’t have to
remind you of the fact that resources were stretched thin because of the
fire in the artists’ loft. All of our trade goods were destroyed,
everyone was on rations. That included Autumn and me. Even if I’d had
the funds, I’d have had to walk ten or fifteen miles to find a suitable
place to purchase things that a little girl needs. That would mean
taking Autumn with me into the outsiders’ world if there was no one from
the Order to watch her.”

“Your point is?”

He gasped. “My point? My point is that I wasn’t about to take her into
the outside world.”

“Why not?” Shayla persisted.

He raised his hands in surprise. “How can you ask me that?”

“She has the ability to shape shift and is of an age to know when to do
it and when not to. The child is intelligent and should have had more
exposure to the outside world so she learns how to behave if something
should happen. In accordance with my commands, all our children now go
through this routine. Autumn is more than ready.”

“Oh really? Need I bring up, yet again, the way she responded to Lady
Dunnemore.” He pointed into the parlor where Anna still sat.

“I’ve told you that Autumn knew the difference between Lady Dunnemore
and other outsiders,” Shayla patiently explained. “This situation isn’t
the same thing as being in the outside world. Autumn is exceedingly
bright. She understands. But to alleviate your fears and reinforce the
rules I know you’ve taught her, I’ve asked Autumn /not/ to shift and
she’s said you’ve done the same. I spoke with her only this morning
while she was coming downstairs to breakfast. To get back to the reason
for this conversation, this is about you and your fear for your child.
Autumn needs to go into town and mingle with outsiders. She has to have
clothing and some toys.”

He took a deep breath and tried to quell his panic at the suggestion.
Still, the Sorceress was right. He knew it. “As soon as I can, I’ll find
a quiet village and take Autumn there to get her whatever she needs.”

“If you were having trouble looking after the child on your own, you
should have asked for more help, man.”

The guilt he felt about Autumn’s lack of clothing and other childhood
necessities had always been in the back of his mind. Now it was greatly
augmented by his being called to the carpet by the Sorceress herself.

“Are you suggesting that I’m neglecting my daughter? I love Autumn with
every drop of my blood. No one loves their child more than I.” He
pointed one finger to the center of his chest then turned his back on
Shayla.

Shayla softened the tone of her voice and placed a consoling hand on his
back. “I know it’s been hard since Spring died. You’ve had your people’s
interests to look after, plants to tend and gems to mine for the Order’s
use. You’ve done an excellent job. No one could ever question your love
and devotion to your little girl. And it shows. She looks at you with
all the love in the world in her eyes. You’ve been a good father.”

“But not good enough,” he sadly added. “I…I guess there’s really no
excuse. It was just that I wanted to keep her safe. She knows about the
outside world from newspaper and magazine articles that I’ve read to
her. I’ve just told her we never went anywhere because it was so far.”

Shayla walked in front of him so he would have to look at her. She
raised one hand and placed it gently on one of his cheeks. “You can’t
keep her locked away forever, you know.”

He nodded. “I-I’ll have Lore take over for me one day this week. Autumn
and I will go into the village.”

“If it weren’t for this safety issue over the ravine, I’d give you more
than one day to take Autumn to see the countryside and expose her to
outsiders. For now, I’m afraid your daughter’s needs weigh against the
safety of my workers. Therefore, I’ve come to a decision.”

Soland waited and an ominous feeling crept up his spine.

“You may take Autumn shopping /after/ the initial safety problems with
that large hole are dealt with. Until then, Kyndall will take your girl
into town to see to her basic and most pressing needs.”

Soland felt his body stiffen in alarm. He was almost apoplectic with
fear at the very suggestion. “T-That’s not remotely possible. /No./
A-Absolutely not!” he spluttered. “She’s my daughter. And you just
pointed out that this is my responsibility.”

“Why are you so concerned? Kyndall is very trustworthy. You must think
so yourself or you wouldn’t have left Autumn in her care.”

“Kyndall is an outsider, a fact I don’t need to remind you about. And it
was fine so long as you and some of the other workers were nearby. I
knew there was someone in the Order Autumn could go to if something went
wrong. But there’s no flaming way on this Earth that I’m letting an
outsider take my little girl out into the world for the first time. No!
No way!” He swiped his hand in dismissal of the whole idea.

“It’s my command, Soland. In fact, I’ve already told Kyndall to take
Autumn to town. By now, they’re probably halfway there.”

At no time in his life, except for the death of his mate, had Soland
ever panicked. A sense of it filled him so profoundly that he ran from
the garden, leaving Shayla standing there. He raced up the stairs and
into Autumn’s room. “Autumn! Kyndall!” he cried out. But there was no
answering sound. And his daughter would certainly come to him if she had
heard him call in such a way. He stood panting and running his hands
through his hair. When he heard the Sorceress’ voice behind him, Soland
knew that even his keen senses had temporarily left. He should have
known the Sorceress was near. That’s how frightened he was for Autumn’s
sake. He sat down on the bed clutching his hands together.

“What have you done?” His voice shook with emotion.

Shayla sat beside him and put one arm around his solid form. “You’re
worrying yourself to death over nothing. Autumn will be fine. You’ll
see. Now I want you to meet Lore in the woods, just as you planned, and
work out your fears with some heavy labor. If you don’t hear from me,
and you won’t, you’ll know everything went smashingly well.”

“I can’t… Work? Autumn is gone into the village…”

Shayla slowly shook her head. “Calm down, Soland. You’ll put yourself
into such a state that you’ll get yourself hurt in the woods. Now do as
I say. Nothing will go wrong. Autumn won’t do anything to reveal herself.”

That was absolutely no comfort to him. His mind began to conjure all
kinds of horrible images. While he knew Kyndall would find out about the
Order sooner or later, it had never remotely occurred to him that the
existence of magic creatures might be revealed somewhere besides a
secluded spot like Dunnemore estate. Autumn, with her innocence and
growing trust of Kyndall, might be inclined to show her special powers
of shape shifting right in the middle of some department store. After
all, /he’d/ shown up dressed in his traditional clothing. Why would
Autumn see /changing/ into a Satyr as being so wrong? If her daddy
thought it was all right, so might she, though she’d been cautioned
against it. She was only a child, with a little girl’s reasoning
capabilities. But he had no real choice but to do as he was ordered.
Without the use of a vehicle, he couldn’t catch up to Kyndall, even if
he knew where she was going. He slowly left the room, made his way into
the forest and the other workers. Someone handed him an axe. His fear
progressively turned to rage, most of which was aimed at himself. He’d
let his little girl go so neglected that the Sorceress of the Ancients
had entrusted her well-being to someone else. An outsider.

His self-anger turned, inappropriately, outward. “I don’t want to see a
single vine, weed or stump that doesn’t belong in this section of the
forest,” he called out to the other workers. “No one leaves until
everything in this section is /perfect/. Is that understood?” He knelt,
changed into his true form and everyone nearby backed up. An angry Satyr
wasn’t to be trifled with and he wanted the entire Order to know just
how furious he was.

He didn’t see their faces when he turned his rage on a stump about five
feet in diameter and made short work of it. Even Lore stayed out of his
way. For the rest of the day and into the night, he drove everyone to
the very brink of exhaustion. And still they worked. Finally, when his
hands were bleeding from the abuse he’d put them through, Lore
approached and put one hand on the taller man’s shoulder.

“I don’t know what ails you, but it’s time to stop.” He grabbed Soland’s
hands and held them up for the Satyr to look at. “Didn’t you feel this?
Where are your gloves?”

Sweating profusely and panting, Soland finally lowered a machete he’d
exchanged for the axe. He looked at the raw, bleeding flesh of his own
hands and wondered that he really hadn’t noticed the damage.

“We’ve been at this for twelve hours. At least everyone else took breaks
during the day. Besides eating some fruit in a hurry, you’ve hardly
taken so much as a sip of water. I know your people have the reputation
for being able to do without fuel for a long time, but we all need to
rest. So do /you/. Come on,” Lore urged, practically pulling Soland
toward the edge of the woods. Because the Satyr seemed unwilling to do
so, he called out for the others to finish up for the night. “Do you
want to tell me what crawled up your arse?”

Soland leaned against a tree. “Shayla sent Autumn to town with Kyndall.”

“And the wee girl has never been into a village before?”

“No. I should have taken her sooner. Now the Green One only knows what
might have happened.”

“It might have been different if Kyndall knew about us. As she doesn’t,
I don’t know as I blame you for being so concerned. I take it the
Sorceress wouldn’t let you go after them?”

“That’s why I’m so pissed. I wasn’t even consulted in the matter. But
you know the Sorceress. She does damned well what she pleases. And it
makes me angrier because I neglected Autumn and gave her an excuse to do
this.”

“Come on, my friend. Let’s get you back to the castle and see what came
of it all. It’s almost dark now, and you really should get something to
eat.”

Soland was glad of the other man’s company. At least in Lore he found
someone in whom he could confide. As the old saying went, /misery loves
company/. As tired as they were, their steps quickened when the lights
of Dunnemore Castle came into view. Both men ran up the stairs straight
to Autumn’s room. Soland didn’t bother knocking. He just shoved the
heavy oak door against the wall and strode in. Lore followed.

Kyndall turned as the door swung open, looked back at her sleeping
charge, put her hands in the middle of both men’s chests and shoved
hard. She realized it was only their startled response that enabled her
to shove two mountains out of the room. “What the hell do the two of you
think you’re doing?” she muttered angrily.

Soland looked down at the slender hand on his chest and spoke first. “I
wanted to see my daughter and…”

“Well, you almost woke her up. It’s a good thing she sleeps well. And
since when do you charge into a room like manners don’t matter?” She
glared at both of them.

Lore smiled and hit Soland in the center of his back. “I see everything
seems to be just fine. I’ll leave you to it. Good night, Kyndall.”

She watched the blond man saunter away and it seemed, by the large smile
on his face, that Lore found something very amusing. “What’s going on?
Why did you come into the room like that? Slamming doors open like a-a
couple of cops or something.”

Soland took a breath and tried to calm himself. If Kyndall and Autumn
made it back from the village in one piece and she seemed none the wiser
about his daughter’s true form, his actions did seem outrageous. The
whole room had shaken with the violence of the door flinging open. It
was just that he’d been so frightened for Autumn’s sake. Now, however,
he had a furious, spitting wildcat on his hands. But it somehow
comforted him to know Kyndall wouldn’t even allow Autumn’s own father to
act inappropriately where the girl was concerned.

“I’m sorry. It’s just that I was worried sick about my baby. I couldn’t
wait to get back to the castle.”

Kyndall looked him over. The vee in his leather shirt was open, laces
undone, and the man was filthy from work. Sweat had coursed down his
face and onto his neck, leaving streaks in the dust and grime there. His
hair was a tangled mass of twigs and leaves. Then she noticed his hands.
“What on earth have you done to yourself?” She lifted one of them and
examined the palm.

“It’s nothing. I just forgot my gloves.”

She sighed in exasperation. The palms were raw and bleeding and dirt was
ground into every cut. “Didn’t they hurt?”

“Aye, they did but…”

“And you didn’t think to borrow some gloves or come back and get yours?”

He shrugged and remembered Lore had asked the same thing. What could he
say? It was his own damned fault. He’d been too angry to care and the
pain had given him something to focus on besides his fear for Autumn.

She crossed her arms over her chest. “I see I’m going to have to speak
with your keeper.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“All gorillas have one, don’t they? Yours obviously sent you out without
your tranquilizers.”

He raised one brow at the insult. In fairness, his behavior would
certainly lead any prudent person to think there was something mentally
wrong with him. But one thought persisted. “I want to see Autumn.”

She put her hand back on his chest and the warm stone wall of it didn’t
surprise her. It was every bit as hard as it looked. “You can see Autumn
when you get cleaned up. I’ll try to find a first-aid kit somewhere.”

He opened his mouth but something flashed in her eyes. Soland decided
there would be an almighty row if he persisted. “I’ll be back in a few
minutes,” he promised.

She turned without speaking, walked through Autumn’s bedroom door and
quickly shut it in his face.

He went straight to his room, shed himself of the dirt-laden clothing
and scrubbed himself beneath a hot shower. His hands stung and were
beginning to throb. He’d have to wrap them and take some medicinal herbs
in the form of tea or risk losing hours of work the next day. As he
finished lathering his hair for the third time, a strange thought came
to him. Why would she care if his hands were hurt or that, in her
analogy, she’d have to speak with his “keeper” about him? Did Kyndall
actually care about his welfare? He decided against that ridiculous
notion. What she /did/ care about was Autumn. That much was certain. Her
concern was whether his baby saw him looking like a swamp Gremlin, his
hands raw and bleeding like fresh meat. There was nothing more to her
regard than that.

As soon as he was clean, Soland grabbed up his robe, tied it around
himself tightly then walked across the hall. His hair was still wet, but
it didn’t matter. Nothing would keep him from seeing his child. This
time, however, he carefully opened the door and entered quite a bit more
peacefully.

Kyndall was sitting on the edge of the bed tucking in the sleeping girl.
She smiled down at the sweet little innocent face, gently brushed the
curls off her forehead and rose to face Soland. “That’s more like it,”
she softly reprimanded.

Soland let out a long breath, ignored the well-deserved scolding and
approached the bed. He sat where Kyndall had been and gazed down at
Autumn’s face. A great relief filled him. His child was sleeping very
soundly, even after his having entered as if the room were on fire. And
she had, as usual, a lovely tiny smile on her face. “Isn’t she
beautiful,” he whispered.

Kyndall smiled. “She really is. And she was so perfect all afternoon. We
had the most fun.”

He looked up to see a stunning bright smile on Kyndall’s face. It lit
the entire room like a bright candle in a cave. “Nothing strange happened?”

She tilted her head in confusion. “Why would you think it had?”

He dropped his head back as the toil of the day finally overcame his
anxiety. “No reason. I was just very worried about her.”

“She’s never been outside whatever village you came from, has she?”

“No. Never,” he admitted.

“And you had no idea where I was taking her?”

“No. Shayla told me only after you’d left.”

“Now everything is starting to make sense. You mean you didn’t tell
Shayla that I had permission to take her out for the day?”

He shook his head.

Kyndall rolled her eyes, and put her hands on her hips. “I was told
otherwise. I’m sorry, Soland. I would never have taken her if I’d known
you hadn’t given permission.”

Everything became clear to him as well. Kyndall would have balked at the
idea of running off with someone’s child without their knowing. So the
Sorceress just told Kyndall he approved. But he couldn’t fathom why
Shayla would do such a thing. Unless the Sorceress was punishing him for
his irresponsibility.

“I’ll certainly have a talk with Shayla tomorrow,” Kyndall told him as
she walked into the bathroom. She came back with a first-aid kit and sat
in a large chair by the fire. “Let me see your hands.”

He got up, sat on the floor in front of her and presented his painfully
wounded hands. “Don’t say anything to Shayla.”

“She lied to both of us. I’d think you’d want to speak to her about it
yourself. You should know where your daughter is and I shouldn’t have
taken her without your knowing.”

“It was my fault.”

Kyndall paused in her perusal of the first-aid kit. “What do you mean?”

“Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed how few things Autumn has. And what
she’s got is threadbare. I should have seen to her needs sooner, but I
didn’t want to take her away from where we lived. I’ve taught her to be
careful of strangers. The world is…well, it can be a dangerous place for
a little girl. I guess I’m trying to shelter her too much. Shayla
thought she was trying to help.”

Kyndall knew exactly what he meant about the world’s dangers to a little
girl. But that was no excuse for Shayla’s meddling. “What hold has
Shayla got on you?”

“You might say she’s a very strict employer.”

“Well, it isn’t right. She can’t just do things like this to people.”

“Let it go, Kyndall. She has her reasons. I neglected my daughter, she
was trying to undo that neglect. Please, just drop it.”

“All right. But I still don’t like it. I don’t like everyone jumping
through hoops for her.”

He noticed how she gently held the back of one of his hands while
applying a soothing ointment to the palm. “What hold does she have over
/you/?”

“My job. I don’t want to lose it. She basically threatened to go to Lady
Anna if I couldn’t accept her presence here or if I asked too many
questions.”

“Ah, I see. That’s why you lied to her about the poachers that first night.”

She nodded. “If Shayla thinks I’m in the middle of trouble, I’ll be
gone. Even if I didn’t start it. She wants me seen but definitely /not/
heard.”

“Well, let’s just forget about all this. I was an idiot to have worried
so much. I can see you took very good care of Autumn.”

Kyndall smiled as she continued to work on his hands. “Oh, you should
have seen her. Her little eyes lit up like stars. Everything was so
exciting to her.”

“Tell me. Tell me everything,” he urged and leaned forward to hear.

For a moment, Kyndall felt heartily sorry for him. He should have taken
his daughter on her first shopping trip. It was very wrong of Shayla
Gallagher to have interfered, depriving him of that experience. “Well,
we went to a clothing store. I didn’t buy the place out, but there were
a few things Autumn needed. Then we passed by this toy shop and you
should have seen her staring through the window. It was so precious to
watch her expression. Her eyes got as round as dinner plates.”

Soland hung on every syllable. “Tell me more.”

“We just /had/ to go in to the toy store.” Kyndall reached for a box
beside the chair. “Look what I got her. Only she doesn’t know it yet. I
sent her to pick out some storybooks and had the clerk wrap ’em up.”

He chuckled as Kyndall pulled out a stuffed white unicorn and a pale
blue dragon with shimmering wings. They were tiny things in her adult
hands, but the perfect size for a little girl.

Kyndall touched the mane of the unicorn to his face. “Isn’t it adorable?
And soft too.”

He laughed outright. “She’ll love them. What else? Did you take her any
other places?”

The expression on his face so reminded her of Autumn and it tore at her
heart to think he couldn’t have been a part of the whole thing. It was
an unusual, first-time experience for her to see a man behave this way.
So she tried to remember every detail. “We walked by an ice cream shop.
I told her she could have some only if she ate some lunch first. So we
headed on down the street and found a pizza place.”

“Did she like it? What kind did you get?”

“We shared a cheese and pepperoni. And she absolutely loved it. Ate
every single bite. But we /had/ to go back to the ice cream parlor. Of
course, she had chocolate. And all she did was talk about when we could
do it all again. She was so excited to tell you everything. So you have
to pretend I didn’t say a word. It’s so much cuter coming from her. Then
the little pea pod fell asleep on the ride back. I had her in the
backseat, all buckled up. She was holding onto her books and couldn’t
wait to have you read them to her. And we got crayons and coloring books
too.”

Soland couldn’t have stemmed his emotional response, even if he’d known
it was going to happen. Tears clouded his vision and he quickly looked
away. How it hurt to know he’d deprived Autumn of so much joy out of his
own fears. That was the way life was for them. The way it would probably
always be.

But Kyndall saw the shimmering veil he tried to hide. Without thinking,
she reached out, put her arms around his neck and hugged him hard. All
she saw was someone hurting. She’d done enough in her own life to
recognize those emotions. “I’m so very, very sorry. You should have been
there. But all the things you could buy her wouldn’t replace the love
she’s known. That’s far more important than her clothes or anything else.”

As two tears slid down his cheeks, Soland silently cursed himself. Even
Spring had never seen him weep like a child. But he just couldn’t help
it. He leaned into Kyndall and let her hold him. He could only imagine
his baby’s reaction to all the things she’d experienced. And that was
all he’d have now. His imagination. But Kyndall’s words had a comforting
effect.

For a time, Kyndall held him and ran her fingers through his hair. His
face, while she’d been telling of Autumn’s adventures, had been so like
his little girl’s. Full of awe and excitement. It was like nothing she’d
ever seen. How was it that this huge, seductive man was so full of
innocence in some ways? There was very little of the world’s cynicism in
his bearing, even though his fears for his daughter and her safety were
very real and seemed to be heavily ingrained. Yet there was still a
sense of wonder in him. She pulled away from him a small distance.

“What village did you come from? It must have been very remote.
Especially if you don’t even get pizzas.”

He shrugged. “It doesn’t have a name. There were just a few of us there.
We’ve lived off the land, caring for it for a long time.”

A soft rap sounded on the door. Soland watched as Kyndall impishly
grinned and got up to open it. He never saw who was on the other side,
but she came back with a huge flat box. Something inside it smelled
incredibly edible. His stomach growled. “What is it?”

“Autumn said you’d never had pizza either. So I had one boxed up for you
and brought it back.”

With his hands full of ointment, Soland had to let her open the box. But
his senses told him he desperately wanted the pizza. The aroma of fresh
bread mingled with olives, cheese, tomatoes and spices. He had to wait
for her to bandage his hands, the pain all but forgotten as his hunger
drove him. He quickly picked a piece up. It was warm, gooey and made
every taste bud tingle with happiness.

Kyndall watched him take his first bite. And his response was what his
daughter’s had been, although Autumn hadn’t moaned the way he was doing
now. She laughed out loud when he devoured the first piece quickly, then
reached for a second.

“So you like it, huh?”

“It’s /amazing/.” He bit into another slice and let the cheese melt in
his mouth. “I never imagined it really tasted so good. I’ve seen
pictures in newspapers and magazines and always wondered about it.”

“While you were in the shower, I went downstairs and put it in the oven
to heat up. The cook came in the kitchen and offered to bring it to the
room when it was ready. Almost like delivery.”

He picked up another piece and handed it to her. “I don’t like eating
alone.”

“Neither do I. Next time, I’ll have to get some soda to wash it down.”

After Kyndall had her fill of the pizza, Soland completely relaxed. He
crossed his legs, sat on the floor by the fire and finished up the meal.
All the while, he looked over the things Kyndall had purchased for
Autumn. There were several little dresses, blue jeans for playing and
even a pair of overalls with frogs embroidered on them. He knew without
a doubt that they had been Autumn’s choice. She loved frogs. There was
even a new pair of sneakers. And it seemed Kyndall had a fun time
showing the things to him. He watched her face become very animated and
saw the joy in her brilliant smile. It completely belied the horrible
background Shayla had told him about. And his heart went out to her.
That she could give so much after having been treated so badly was amazing.

He glanced at some flannel fabric that lay on the window seat. One piece
was dark blue with shimmering silver stars and moons on it. The other
was white with tiny fairies flitting from flower to flower.

“Isn’t this fabric precious? I let Autumn pick it out. I’m going to try
sewing some new pajamas for her. I used to sew a lot once. I thought I’d
give it a go again and start on something simple like a couple of
nightgowns. We even picked out some buttons that matched.”

For a moment Soland just stared. The strangest feeling came over him.
They were sitting on the floor talking about Autumn as if she were
/theirs/ instead of just /his/ daughter. He couldn’t help thinking that
Spring would have liked this woman very much. She was tough but smart.
And she could survive. Add to that her sultry beauty and spirit, and it
made up quite an intriguing individual.

Noticing him staring, Kyndall put the fabric down. “What? Is something
wrong?”

He moved closer to her. “I’ve never met anyone like you. You’ve very
strong, aren’t you, Kyndall?”

For a moment, she stared back into those bright green eyes and couldn’t
respond. “Not really,” she softly responded.

“I think you are. Very strong. And very, very beautiful.” He closed this
distance slowly, slanted his mouth over hers and kissed her gently.

It was a feather-like touch at first. And Kyndall’s senses reeled. The
floor beneath her didn’t exist. It was only the two of them, floating on
some imaginary cloud. Then the kiss deepened and she responded
automatically. Something very primal in her knew exactly what to do. And
when his hands came up to rest on her shoulders, she wanted to be free
of the thick white bathrobe she wore. All she wanted was to feel his touch.

Soland stopped, though it was hard for him to do so. “I’d better call it
a night. This is getting a bit out of control.”

Kyndall couldn’t speak but nodded in agreement.

With his pulse racing and his body pushed to the limits, Soland slowly
rose. He checked on Autumn once more, then walked to the door. He turned
and looked back at Kyndall. She was soft, warm and her eyes gleamed as
if a thousand stars shone in them. All that auburn hair fell around her
shoulders in appetizing disarray. His Satyr’s blood was demanding, but
his mind kept control. It would continue to do so only if he left quickly.

“Good night, Kyndall. Thank you for everything.”

“Don’t forget your gloves tomorrow,” she responded. It was a stupid
thing to say, but having no experience from which to draw, a situation
like this was over her head and she knew it. It was a good thing that he
was leaving. That’s what she told herself.

“Let me know what the expenses were, will you?” Soland softly asked.

“I told the shops to send any bills to Dunnemore Castle. In care of Ms.
Shayla Gallagher. I figured she’d know what to do with them,” she
sarcastically added.

He smiled and walked out and closed the door softly as he did so. He’d
speak to Shayla about the expenses tomorrow. No one was going to pay for
the things his daughter needed but him. It was a matter of pride. But it
was more than a bit amusing to think that Kyndall would send the bill to
Shayla. She might be frightened for her job, but she still had some grit.

In his room, he tried to find rest, but the need Kyndall’s presence had
instilled in him wouldn’t be denied. Soland felt like a randy
sixteen-year-old Satyr again. But there was only one way to keep from
going insane when his blood burned as it now did. He relaxed on the bed
as he had the previous time and took care of his needs. Afterward, he
lay there a very long time. When he drifted to sleep, he dreamed of a
warm summer night beneath old Roman columns. A crescent moon shone down
and he was making love to a woman with long red-brown hair and a fiery
disposition. They pleasured each other in a thousand ways. Then they
held each other until the sun came up.

When he woke up a bit later, he wondered if Kyndall had similar dreams.
From now on, they’d have to be very careful about being alone. He wanted
her too much and had seen that need reflected in her eyes. She didn’t
know what a Satyr could do. Nor did she know what he was. Added to the
mixture of complications, she was an outsider. It would do no good to
get involved. But what his mind told him was completely different from
what his heart and body wanted.

He got up from the bed and hoped he could pretend the kiss was nothing
more than a thanks for having cared for Autumn so well. But he could
still remember that soft look in her eyes. That needing, alluring gaze.

Turning on the shower as cold as he could get it, Soland resolved to
stop what was happening before it went any further. He couldn’t
understand these feelings, and had to get a grip on the situation.

Outside in the early dawn’s light, the little breeze blew and wound its
way through a bed of weeds that had once held beautiful chrysanthemums.
A little spirit danced on the wind and declared, /“Fight it all you
want, Soland. This was meant to be. I can’t be with you indoors, but
while you’re in my domain, I’ll guide you in the right direction, my
love. Don’t fight what’s happening between you and Kyndall. She needs
you and you need her.”/

*
*

Chapter Six

 

Soland left breakfast earlier than usual when he found out the building
supplies arrived for the bridge. He briefly spoke with Kyndall but
pointedly spent more time in conversation with his daughter. If Kyndall
was disappointed his attention wasn’t more focused upon her, she didn’t
show any outward sign of it. In fact, she seemed eager to let him leave
and didn’t respond to what conversation there was with more than a few
cursory remarks. Perversely, it bothered him that she didn’t seem
annoyed by his lack of attention. The woman acted as if their brief kiss
the night before had never happened. As he walked into the forest, the
job at hand should have been foremost on his mind. But Kyndall’s
starry-eyed gaze kept entering his thoughts. When he arrived at the
ravine, Trolls were already setting beams in place for the support
structure. Only then did his mind get to the task at hand.

“Make sure you run those beams very deep. Go to bedrock. I don’t want
any amount of water to take out that bridge,” he commanded. “It could
mean an alternate route out of here during an emergency.”

“You go pull your weeds, Satyr! I’ll see to the building of the bridge,”
the Troll leader sarcastically responded.

Soland shook his head in dismissal of the man’s remarks. Trolls weren’t
the most amiable creatures of the Order. But they always built
structures that withstood the test of time and elements. Since safety
was the most important issue, he’d put up with the prima donna attitude
so long as the job got done. He turned away and began surveying new
areas to clear. His gloved hands hurt as he swung an axe into a dead
oak, but didn’t hurt as much as he would have thought. Kyndall had done
a good job of beginning the healing process.

* * * * *

In the garden, Kyndall and Autumn played a game of hide-and-go-seek.
Autumn shrieked with joy as her adult pursuer growled and chased her
into a more weedy part of the once-lovely formal garden. They collapsed
on the grass, laughing and panting.

Quickly catching her breath, Autumn sensed a small presence near her.
“Kyndall, there’s a toad under that old flower pot.”

Kyndall reached out and turned over the old clay vessel the girl pointed
at. Sure enough, there sat a rather perturbed, overly bulbous toad. “How
did you know it was there?”

“I just did. Want to watch me call it?”

Kyndall smiled, sat up and took notice of what was probably a new
child’s game. “What do you mean, ‘call it’?”

“Watch.” Autumn concentrated as her father had taught her. She put out
her hand, palm up, and the croaking toad hopped straight toward her.
“See? Told you.”

Kyndall watched as the creature stopped when it reached the little
girl’s fingers. Autumn carefully picked it up, stroked its head and put
it back on the ground.

“Daddy says I shouldn’t make animals do things too much. It isn’t right.”

“Really?” She felt a little guilty for what she was about to do. But it
was strange that Autumn was attributing some kind of coincidence to
Soland. Surely the toad hadn’t really come to the little girl because it
had been commanded? It was probably some kind of game she and her father
played together. Anxious to find out about any form of entertainment
that would keep Autumn occupied and happy, Kyndall encouraged her to
talk. “What else can you tell me, sweetheart?”

“Once Daddy saw some deer and one of them had a hurt leg. So he called
it and it just came right over. And he put some stuff on its hurt place
so it would feel better.”

“Oh? And what else can he call besides deer?”

“Lots of animals. I can only do small ones. Daddy can get horses and
cattle and all kinds of things to come. But that’s ’cuz he’s so much
bigger.”

“How does he do it?” Kyndall asked, and uneasiness crept over her. It
was as if something was trying to warn her not to pursue the subject,
but she couldn’t let it go.

“You have to think about it really hard and the animal just comes to you.”

“Can your dad do anything else?”

“He can grow things good. We had a vegetable garden at our old house.”

Kyndall pretended to be interested in a blade of grass she was twirling
between her fingers. “Tell me more, honey?”

“Once he made vines move away from where we were walking. Without using
his hands or nothing. But it was on the night of a Solstice. He says it
has to be the right time or he can’t do that. He’s going to teach me to
make them move when I’m older. And Shayla was there. She asked Daddy to
do it during a ceremony and those vines just moved.” Autumn looked up
from studying the toad and put her hand over her mouth. “Uh-oh. I don’t
think I was ’posed to say some of that stuff.”

Kyndall took a deep breath and calmly replied, “Well. We’re good
friends. And I won’t tell. Okay?”

“Okay.” Autumn walked over to Kyndall and placed her arms around her
neck. “I think it would be all right since Daddy and the Sorceress know
you.”

Now Kyndall was completely confused. “Honey, who is the Sorceress?”

She giggled. “That’s Shayla. Everybody knows that.”

Kyndall had to purse her lips to keep from laughing. Obviously, Soland
and Shayla had been playing some kind of garden game the child
misunderstood. And his daughter had probably overheard Soland or someone
else call Shayla Gallagher a Sorceress/./ It was undoubtedly the Welsh
equivalent of witch. Only spelled with a “b” in the American translation.

Kyndall was anxious not to have the girl repeat the name in front of
others. She didn’t want her scolded for something she was just
repeating. “Well, why don’t we just call her Shayla or Ms. Gallagher?
Okay, honey?”

“I don’t think I wasn’t ’posed to say that either.”

Kyndall patted her on the back. “Well, let’s just forget all about it,
baby. Why don’t you teach me some words in Welsh? Do you know many?”

“Uh-huh. Daddy teaches me all the time.”

“Let’s do that for a while then.”

As the little girl led her around the garden pointing at things and
telling Kyndall their Welsh names, she thought about what had just
happened. What was all that nonsense about Solstices and ceremonies? How
would a four-year-old know about such things and why? The more her mind
dwelled on it, the more convinced she was that something strange was
going on. It wasn’t a childish game and Kyndall became concerned. Some
part of her brain zeroed in on the information and demanded she ask more
questions. When children had secrets adults told them to keep, the
secrets were sometimes things quite innocent, or best kept between the
family. But sometimes the secrets weren’t innocent at all. Sometimes it
was wise to clear up any misconceptions. At least, that’s how Kyndall
justified getting the girl to talk more.

When Autumn began to fidget, and wanted to play something new, Kyndall
had an idea to get to the bottom of what the little girl had seen. “Tell
you what. Why don’t we play like it’s Solstice, and you can show me what
you do during a ceremony. Okay?

Autumn considered the idea for a moment. “I guess it will be all right.
But I have to have something for a Druid robe.”

Kyndall felt her jaw drop open. For a moment she didn’t know how to
respond, but Autumn took over.

“I know. We can use an old sheet. Do you think we could borrow one from
Lady Dunnemore, Kyndall?”

She took a deep breath. “Why don’t we go upstairs and see what’s in the
linen closet. Then we can go to your room and you can show me.”

Autumn took Kyndall’s hand and pulled her into the castle and up the
stairway, anxious to start the new game. After rummaging through the old
linens and finding something suitable, Kyndall took the girl back to her
room and closed the door. She felt goose bumps rise on her arms as the
four-year-old proceeded to make what she called an altar out of a
footstool and place pretend ceremonial objects on it. One of her new
stuffed toys served as a pretend vessel of water. A small ornamental
bowl served as something to burn what Autumn referred to as “smelly
stuff”. From the child’s description, Kyndall knew it was incense that
was being described. A tall flower from a vase served as a staff. “Just
like the one the Sorceress uses,” according to Autumn.

“Okay, Kyndall. You stand here.” Autumn pointed to one side of her
pretend altar. “I can’t ’member all the words so I’ll make something up,
and you have to repeat after me.”

Kyndall nodded and waited for Autumn to begin.

Autumn raised her flower and pulled her pretend Druid robe around her
more tightly. “Let all the spirits come.” She waited. “You have to
repeat it, Kyndall, that’s the way it goes.”

“Oh all right. Let all the spirits come,” she dutifully recited.

Autumn stopped, raised one hand and scratched her head. “I can’t ’member
much more. Can you tell me?”

“Oh honey, I’m afraid I don’t know.”

Steps echoed in the hallway. Kyndall quickly turned toward the door,
feeling as guilty as any thief. When it opened, the object of her angst
stood there. “Hello, Shayla.”

Shayla arched her eyebrow and looked over the small scene. “Playing some
game?”

“W-we were just making something up,” Kyndall lied. To her relief,
Autumn said nothing.

“Well, it looks as though the both of you are having fun. And while I
hate to interrupt it, I need you to run an errand for Lady Dunnemore,
Kyndall. She’d like her allergy prescription refilled. I’ve already
called it in to the chemist’s.”

“Oh of course,” came Kyndall’s too breathy reply.

Shayla held out her hand to Autumn. “How about you and I go downstairs
and see if we can get cook to make us some lovely biscuits, shall we?”

“Yes, please,” Autumn replied and quickly threw off her pretend robe.

Kyndall wasted no time. “Let me get my bag and I’ll go right away.”

“We’ll save a biscuit for you,” Autumn called after her.

In the safety of her room, Kyndall grabbed onto a bed post and took a
deep, steadying breath. Okay, they were people who worshiped in a way
she didn’t understand. That was no reason to lose it/./ Maybe that was
why Soland had made all the cryptic references to things she’d find out
about later. Well, this was later and the things in question weren’t all
that bad. Not when she really thought about it. After all, how harmful
could people be if they would help animals? Kyndall quickly brushed her
hair, exchanged her sweater for a white long-sleeved shirt and tucked it
inside her jeans. The change of clothing was like a change in her
attitude, and she laughed at the silly thoughts that had run through her
mind. She was satisfied that Autumn was happy and safe. Nothing was
going on that could threaten the little girl. And she should have known
that all along. The sweet thing was as secure and loved, maybe more so,
as any other child.

“Don’t be a total loser,” she muttered to herself. “People have a right
to believe in anything they want.” She grabbed up her black shoulder bag
and made her way to the garage.

* * * * *

Crossing the ravine by using a downed tree, Soland and Lore made their
way to the other side of the forest, hacking out a path with a machete
as they did so. In all his life, Soland had never seen such lush growth.
The protection of it called to him. It was as unlike the open Welsh
hills as anything he’d ever known. His keen eyes searched, as they had
for days, for a spot that would be worthy of a nice home. Just a small
cottage for him and Autumn. Something made of stone. A dozen places fit
the bill. There would be hundreds of beings just like them all around.
Satyrs would mix with Druids, Fairies, Goblins, Elves, Pixies and many
more members of the Order. They would be able to attend all the
ceremonies and sacred celebrations he and Autumn had missed over the
years. And this was another thing for which he felt guilty. But it would
all soon be rectified. There was room for everyone here. He was already
beginning to feel a sense of belonging and safety for his child.
Something in his heart felt lighter than it had in years. As he mulled
it over, the sense of peace pervading him didn’t have much to do with
this forest, their proximity to the Order or its protective Sorceress.
His mind kept wandering back to Kyndall and how soft her lips had been.

Lore noticed the preoccupation in his friend’s manner. “I was told
something about an old statue garden being built in the middle of the
forest, much like the ones you see in magazines of Greece.” No response
came from Soland. “It would be a wonderful place for ceremonies. Maybe
nicer than the great clearing at the Shire.” There was still no comment
from his companion. “And I’d love to get naked, light my hair on fire
and run through the woods yelling, ‘/I’m a flaming Fairy/.’”

“Mmmm, sure, that sounds fine,” Soland absently responded.

Peeved, Lore finally shouted at the Satyr. “Soland!”

“What!” Soland quickly turned.

“You haven’t heard a single damn word I’ve said since we got over the
ravine. What ails you?”

Soland grinned mischievously. “Sorry, Lore. I guess I’ve got a lot on my
mind.”

“Assuming you have one,” Lore grumbled.

“What?”

“A mind, you big fart!”

Soland laughed heartily. “I’m sorry about being such bad company.”

Lore leered at him. “Wouldn’t be a woman at the bottom of it, would there?”

“Why would you think that? Not everyone is a Fairy, you know. We don’t
all go into the woods snogging every night with a different woman.”

“Neither do Fairies. Unmated Satyrs and Nymphs hold that particular
reputation.”

Soland waved one hand in dismissal. “Whatever. We should just get on
with the work.”

“All right, but you keep the lead. You’re a man with too much on his
mind and a very sharp machete in his hand. I don’t want you thinking of
your love life while that thing is at my back,” Lore complained as he
pointed toward Soland’s wicked-looking machete.

“All right, you pain-in-the-arse Fairy. Bite me if it makes you feel
better. What’s wrong? Is it the time of month when you’re running short
on Fairy dust?”

The two men began a good-natured list of the other’s least redeeming
qualities while continuing their work. After cutting through another two
hundred yards of vines, most of which were very thorny, they broke into
a large area that had once been a neatly manicured lawn. Since there
were no large trees near it, vines had grown low to the ground across
the entire space. They choked out any other tree or shrub that might
have taken root there. Soland’s gaze took in the wonderful sight in
front of him.

“By the Green Man’s beard, look at this!” He stepped forward with Lore
eagerly following.

“Merlin’s balls! What a wonder.”

Before them lay several acres of vines that crawled under and around
columns of gray marble. The men were just able to make out shining
crystals on the column’s once-pristine surfaces. Most of the columns
were perfectly upright, but some had come down due to storms or erosion
at their bases. Soland guessed they were probably forty feet high and
possibly placed there when Grecian architecture might have been favored
by a previous owner of Dunnemore. The columns were aligned in groups of
six. Three columns on one side, three on the other. There were, at his
quick count, no fewer than ten groups of these columns throughout the
huge space.

“What was it Lady Dunnemore said about this place?” Lore kicked at a
vine winding around his calf.

“She couldn’t remember much. Its history was lost in a fire during World
War II. But they probably used this place as some sort of playground for
the rich.”

“A kind of theme park of some past age.”

“Exactly,” Soland nodded in agreement. He walked forward, kicking vines
out of his way as he did so. In the middle of the groups of columns,
there was a very old fountain. It was round, thirty feet across and had
a half-nude Grecian beauty posed in the center. She stood about seven
feet tall in all her marble splendor. From an urn she carried on her
left hip, water would have once poured down into the base and circulated.

“Wait until the Sorceress sees this. She’ll lose her damned knickers.”
Lore grinned and poked Soland in the back.

“Oh thanks for painting that picture! And let her hear you say that and
you’ll be the one losing /yours/, my friend.”

Lore ignored the warning and pointed at the fountain. “Can you fix this
thing and get it to work again?”

Soland turned in a slow circle and considered all he saw. He loved a
challenge. And this was a huge one. “You’re damn right I can.” Then he
paused and looked up.

Lore looked up as well. “What do you see? There’s nothing but clear sky
overhead.”

“At night, I think there might have been something else going on here.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’ll have to do some checking before I say anything. I want to be very
sure.”

“There you go again. Getting all mysterious on me.” Lore shook his head
in frustration. “Why can’t Satyrs ever give a simple answer to a simple
question?”

“When dealing with a simple mind, we have to respond appropriately.”

“Ohhhh, you’re very amusing,” Lore replied dryly.

Soland chuckled. “Come on. If we start back now, we can make it to the
castle at a decent hour.”

* * * * *

Kyndall walked out of the pharmacy and headed toward the car. On the
way, she window shopped and saw a great many items that would have
Autumn wide-eyed with wonder. She vowed to tell Soland so he could bring
her back himself. Then something made her turn around and look behind
her. It was that creepy feeling people sometimes get when they know
they’re being watched. Across the street, three men stared at her.

“The Gipsons,” she muttered. And the three brothers were joined by two
other men. They talked amongst themselves but pointed toward her. It
didn’t take much to figure out she was under serious discussion. Kyndall
headed for her car but did so without panicking. At a cross-walk, she
stopped to wait for a light to change. The five men followed.

She made it to the car, let out a sigh of relief, then pulled out into
traffic. The drive back to Dunnemore was a long and solitary one when
the village was left behind. Her heart crept into her throat when Ed
Gipson’s old truck appeared in her rearview mirror.

“Now is not the time to panic,” Kyndall murmured to herself, and picked
up speed. But the driver of the truck did the same. Kyndall glanced at
the speedometer. She couldn’t negotiate the winding curves of the old
road and go any faster. Lady Dunnemore’s sedan just wouldn’t respond
safely if she did. And no matter how fast she tried to go, Ed’s truck
closed the gap. The beat-up old vehicle of his wasn’t faster, but it was
more maneuverable and had probably been equipped to escape from the law
every time the poachers went on their nightly forays. Still, Kyndall did
the best she could.

“The bastards are just trying to scare me. Well, that gate doesn’t swing
in this garden!” Kyndall gamely told herself. And she kept driving with
all the skill she could muster.

After five miles of being chased, Kyndall knew she was rapidly
approaching a fork in the road. If she kept going at the pace she was
traveling, there would be only one of two results. First, she wouldn’t
make either turn and the sedan would crash through the barrier between
the two forks and into the woods beyond. Second, if she slowed down
enough to turn either way, Ed’s truck would be in her backseat. The
maniac driving it was right on her bumper.

“Hell! Better him than me.” Kyndall slowed down and the truck struck the
rear of the sedan with a loud crash. It jerked the entire vehicle with
such force that the only thing keeping her from going through the
windshield was the seat belt and shoulder harness. That particular model
had no air bag, so her chest hit the steering wheel, knocking the breath
out of her body. The steering wheel slipped from her grasp. The sedan
careened out of control, through a fence and into a pasture.

Kyndall’s world dimmed as she fought to stay conscious. If she could get
to the cell phone in her purse, everything would be all right. But the
breath seemed to come slowly back into her lungs and her neck hurt
terribly. For a few minutes, she sat still. Then she slowly tried to
move in a coordinated fashion so as not to hurt herself worse. Her hand
snaked out toward her purse and the car door jerked open.

“Well, if it isn’t Miss High-and-Mighty of Dunnemore Castle ’erself.”

Kyndall looked up into Ed Gipson’s face, saw his nose was still bearing
the mark of Soland’s fist, and slowly smiled. “You just seem to have all
the luck with your face, don’t you, Ed?”

Ignoring any injuries she might have, Ed leaned over her, unfastened the
seat belt and angrily pulled Kyndall from the car. He ignored her cries
of pain and pushed her against the back door of the sedan.

“We’ll see who’s bloody ’aving luck from ’ere on out. You little bitch.”

* * * * *

Hours later, Soland and Lore emerged from the forest. It had been a
long, arduous walk for both of them, but the clearing of the forest
floor was going splendidly. The members of the Order were anxious to
have new land on which to dwell. Land that might have been part of the
original sacred forest at one time but had been lost to war and
encroachers over many hundreds of years. Forgetting his vow to stay
clear of Kyndall, Soland couldn’t wait to get upstairs. He knew Autumn
was probably still awake and waiting to tell him more about her shopping
trip. The brief breakfast encounter he’d had with his child had ended
early. At that time, Soland felt the need to distance himself from
Kyndall. Now, however, he was anxious to see his daughter and the woman
who had occupied his thoughts all afternoon as well. Seeing the Grecian
clearing, as he mentally referred to it, had an effect on him that he
wanted to share. And Kyndall, when she was of a mind to listen, was so
easy to talk to. He wanted to see those beautiful eyes of hers light up
when he described what had been found in the woods. It would be so good
to hide away in Autumn’s room, with the fire burning and a hot meal
coming straight from the kitchen. It would be just like coming home. It
was these happy thoughts that filled Soland with new, warm emotions he
wanted to last. As they approached the castle, Shayla and many members
of the Order waited in front of the main entrance. His heartbeat
quickened. Something was very wrong. Some of the Goblins were gathered,
their leader was grouping them. That only meant trouble of the worst kind.

“Bloody hell,” Lore gasped and began to run, “something’s /screwed/.”

Soland kept pace with the man step for step. Something in his chest
tightened when he saw Autumn. The little girl was in Lady Dunnemore’s
arms, sobbing. The Sorceress stood near Lady Dunnemore.

“What’s happened?” Soland panted. When Autumn reached out to him, he
gently pulled her into his embrace and rocked her.

“D-Daddy, Kyndall got h-hurt,” she stuttered, and cried even harder.

Soland looked to the Sorceress for an explanation. “Tell me.”

Shayla motioned the Goblin leader forward. “You know what to do.”

Soland and Lore watched as the large green man nodded, then led his
group away. Goblins were superb trackers and lethal in their anger.
Right now, the expressions on their faces boded no good for some
unfortunate person or persons. They were certainly being sent after
someone and didn’t mind being in their true forms as they sought their prey.

“Soland, would you give Autumn back to Lady Dunnemore? She’ll take the
child inside and put her to bed. You can go up later, after we’ve had
words. And you, Lore, take your men to the far edges of the woods. I
hate to ask this of you as I know how hard you’ve worked all day, but
there were poachers on Dunnemore property tonight. We need to secure the
perimeter. Your people will tell you what’s happened.”

“As you command, Sorceress.” Lore bowed his head, recognizing the
seriousness of the command. He looked at Soland and nodded before leaving.

When their eyes met, Soland recognized a look of compassion in Lore’s
face. The Fairy’s expression seemed to send a wish that everything would
be all right. They might have pretended to argue half the day, but Lore
and he were really the greatest of friends. It was one of the reasons
Soland had chosen to work with him.

“Go with Lady Dunnemore, Autumn. Your father will be up shortly,” Shayla
consoled.

“Yes, Sorceress,” Autumn sniffed, and held her arms out for the older
woman to take her.

“Poor wee thing,” Anna crooned. “Don’t you worry. Everything will be fine.”

Soland watched as Lady Dunnemore walked away with his baby. Then his
attention riveted on the Sorceress. “What the bloody well happened?

Shayla began to walk down the long driveway leading away from Dunnemore.
She knew Soland would have no recourse but to accompany her. It was her
intention to get Soland away from the castle for as long as she could.
Kyndall had to have time to pull herself somewhat together.

“Earlier today, I sent Kyndall to the village on an errand for Lady
Dunnemore. Autumn stayed here with me. While returning, Kyndall was
followed from town and the car she drove was forced off the road. The
men who did it…”

Soland stepped in front of Shayla. His breath was coming in deep gasps.
“Go on. /Please/, Sorceress.”

“They’ve beaten her severely. And the injuries she received from the
auto accident weren’t minor.”

Soland’s gaze was drawn back to the castle. Without caring what the
Sorceress thought of his remark, he blurted, “I have to see her.”

“No.” Shayla held up her hand and stopped her forward motion. “Not just
yet. She’s fine. I’ve had one of our physicians look her over. Kyndall
will recover with a week’s rest.”

“Who did it?”

“Kyndall said it was the same men who were poaching the night you
arrived.” She watched Soland move back, kneel to the ground and change
into his true form. He rose, a terrifying fury of a creature in true
male Satyr form. His hands opened and closed into gargantuan fists. Then
one hand pulled out a large knife from his boot. Shayla sensed his need
for revenge.

“The Goblins are tracking them now, aren’t they?” he snarled. “That’s
why they haven’t changed to human form. They’re on a blood hunt.”

She nodded. “They are. After the men were through with Kyndall, they got
very drunk and decided to continue their criminal behavior with a night
of poaching on Dunnemore land. Some of the perimeter guards chased them
away. But I don’t want a repeat performance. They’ve proven their
violence. I don’t want one of their guns turned on one of our own. The
Goblins will find them.”

“Not before I do.” He started to leave, but a gentle arm on his bicep
stopped him.

“No, Soland. Your daughter needs you here. She saw Kyndall when our
people brought her in and it upset her terribly. I’m afraid it wasn’t a
very pretty sight.”

“Who found her?”

“When she was gone for much longer than she should have been, I became
concerned and called her cell phone. When there was no answer, I sent
some of the household staff to find her. Half an hour later, they
located the car she was driving and used her phone to call back and let
us know what happened. Kyndall was still conscious then, though she
wasn’t able to tell us too much and she has lost consciousness since.
She wouldn’t let us take her to a hospital or even call an ambulance.
One of our own physicians seems to have been good enough for her, though
she had no idea the man is a Druid. As far as she’s concerned, he was
just some medical friend of mine.”

“Did those men…was she…” his voice trailed off. It was impossible to get
the words out. The very idea someone would force her into sex against
her will was abominable.

“According to Kyndall, Ed Gipson was about to rape her, but one of the
men from town stopped him from going that far. There were five of them
altogether. Each of them had his turn with her. Kyndall was certainly
molested, but not raped.”

His heart tore open. “She told you all that and you believed her about
not being raped?”

“Yes, to both questions. After the physician left, I gave her some
herbal tea to ease the pain and help her relax. We talked and I sensed
no evasiveness in her. She wasn’t raped. I’m certain of it. And I don’t
want the men responsible taken care of just yet. The Goblins will only
hunt them where they live, keep track of their movements and report back
to me.”

“I will avenge her,” Soland declared. “If you won’t let the Goblins do
it, then I surely will.”

Shayla noted the ferocity with which he said it. The glowing green eyes
intensified, and Soland’s bronze color deepened. His appearance was a
clear sign of how enraged he really was. “The time will come, Soland.
But not now. Five people can’t just disappear from the village.”

He paced on the driveway and couldn’t keep his eyes from the castle.
“What am I to do?”

“Go to your daughter. Then to Kyndall. If she’ll let you see her, that is.”

“I can’t suppose she’d want a man near her right now.”

“That might be true.” Shayla sighed. “But there’s more.”

He jerked his head toward the Sorceress and waited to hear whatever else
might have been done.

“Autumn has been telling Kyndall all about some strange things in her life.”

Soland felt a sensation much like his heart falling into the pit of his
stomach. “What does Kyndall know?”

“She knows we have Solstice ceremonies. That we’re probably just a lot
of Pagans out to keep our secrets.”

“Sorceress, I’m to blame for anything my daughter might have said. If
someone is to be punished…”

“For the love of the Goddess!” she interrupted. “Do you think I’d
actually hold a little child responsible for telling an outsider about
us? The only reason Autumn would remotely do such a thing is because
she’s very attached to Kyndall and wanted to share a secret. And Kyndall
would have had to know sooner or later if she’s to stay here as Anna
desires. You must think me some kind of monster, Soland. Punishing a
child indeed!”

“No, Sorceress. It’s just that I…I don’t know what to think right now. I
just want to see Autumn and then try to talk to Kyndall.”

“First, you must change back into human form and stay that way. Then you
may see your daughter. As for Kyndall, that’s between you and her. Her
room is next to yours, down the hall and on the right. In talking to
her, I eventually want you to finish what your daughter started. Finish
telling her about our ceremonies and everything else.”

His mouth went dry. “Y-You want me to tell Kyndall about the Order?”

“I do. Not now, of course. Give her a few days. Let her heal. I’ll let
you do it any way you please. So long as it’s done.”

“What if she won’t accept it or goes to the outside world about us?”

“That’s for me to handle.”

He took a deep breath and tried to quell his anger. “With everything
that’s in her past, do you think she’ll be all right?”

“Kyndall is strong. If we stand with her, she can do anything.” Shayla
gathered her shawl around her body more closely. “Go now. I need to
think. I wish my Hugh were here instead of chasing down another problem
in Scotland. I need his help.”

Soland knelt, changed back into human form, then quickly stood. “I’ll do
whatever I can, Shayla. But I will have my day with the men who did
this. I owe Kyndall for befriending my daughter.”

She nodded. “When the time comes, you’ll be the one. I promise.”

He slightly bowed his head in respect and walked back up the drive. His
mind reeled with thoughts and his heart was crowded with emotions of all
kinds. He took the stairs two at a time and didn’t bother cleaning up
before going into Autumn’s room. Lady Dunnemore was holding Autumn and
talking to her when he arrived.

“Thank you.” Soland acknowledged the older woman’s presence with a nod.
When he sat down, Autumn climbed into his lap and held on.

Anna shook her head and fought off tears. “Such a horrible thing.
Kyndall talked to me for a few minutes. She’s being so brave. But my
heart is aching for her. Just aching.”

“Don’t worry, Lady Dunnemore. There’ll be an end to this. Anyone who
comes under the Sorceress’ protection is always avenged. That means you
and Kyndall too.”

“I do hope something is done. This just can’t ever happen again. Poor
Kyndall. I think some of this is my fault. My former groundskeepers
might have been letting the villagers poach in exchange for booze and
money. I’m glad Shayla and the rest of you are here. Money doesn’t mean
to you what it does to the rest of the world. And Shayla Gallagher can’t
be bought off.” She patted Soland on the arm, let Autumn hug her good
night, then left the room.

After holding Autumn awhile, Soland looked down into her little face and
spoke. “What do you want to tell me, /’m asgre/?”

Autumn stared up at him. “Lady Dunnemore says some bad men hurt Kyndall.”

“They did, /anwylyd hun/.”

“Why, Daddy?”

He spoke softly and gently. “Because some people are unhappy themselves,
they try to make others so. You see?”

Autumn considered that explanation for a moment, then nodded before
continuing. “She was awfully hurt.”

Soland kissed her cheeks and hugged her tightly. “I’ll go and see what I
can do.”

“Give her Mr. Uni-Horn to sleep with, Daddy. It will make her feel better.”

Soland felt tears gather in his eyes as his daughter handed over her
precious new stuffed unicorn. “I’m sure that would make her feel much
better. I love you, hedgehog.”

“I love you too.” She kissed his cheek and threw her arms around his neck.

“I’ll check back in on you tonight. Do you think you’ll be all right by
yourself for a time?”

“I’m a big girl, Daddy. I can be all right.”

Soland sadly smiled at her slight misuse of English and the tears he
held back threatened to spill over. “I guess you are. And you’re getting
bigger every day. But you won’t mind if I check in anyhow, will you?”

She shook her head and hugged him once more.

“All right, my sweet. Back under the covers. And I’ll wait until you’re
fast asleep. And every so often, I’ll check in on you,” he assured her.

“G’night, Daddy.”

“Good night, my dearest.” He put his hand over his heart. “Where am I?”

Autumn put her hand over her own heart. “Right here. And where are you?”

He kept his hand in place. “Right here. And where are we?”

“Always together,” they both said as their palms met.

He kissed her, tucked the covers around her tiny form and sang softly
until she drifted off. Then he made his way to his room across the hall.
Now he was angry enough for all of them. For Kyndall, because of the
unfairness of the attack. For Autumn, because she was exposed to
something of the outside world that would haunt her. And for himself,
because he couldn’t do anything to right the wrong. At least not yet.

After quickly scrubbing himself clean, Soland pulled on his black
terrycloth robe and walked to Kyndall’s room. For a moment he stood
there, not knowing exactly what he’d say. Finally, he raised his hand
and softly knocked on the door.

“Who is it?”

“Soland. May I talk to you, Kyndall?”

From the other side of the door, Kyndall sat. Her body was beginning to
ache in earnest. Whatever painkillers had been given to her were wearing
off. She wasn’t sure she wanted him to see her as she was. But something
told her the man wouldn’t be put off.

“Come in.”

Soland quietly entered the room. She was hunched in a large, overstuffed
chair by the fire. Her arms were wrapped about her drawn-up legs and
long hair hid her face as her forehead rested on her knees. He slowly
walked over to where she sat, knelt to the floor and gently lifted her face.

“Please don’t say how awful I look,” she whispered. “I know. I’ve seen
it. Can’t we just skip what happened and go on to the weather or what
you did today? My day kind of sucked.”

Horrible rage filled him when he saw her face and the dead look in her
eyes. Her lower lip was cut, bluish bruises tinted the skin around her
left jaw and throat and there was a nasty gash over her right eye, which
had been bandaged. To him, she was still so beautiful. Without thinking,
Soland wrapped his arms around her and stroked her hair.

Kyndall did the unthinkable. Despite her oath to never do it, she broke
down and began to cry. For the first time in her life, other people
really seemed to care about her. And no matter how hard she tried, the
crying just wouldn’t stop. Years and years of it poured out.

Soland kissed her hair and held on. “Don’t stop, Kyndall. It’s all
right. You don’t have to stop.”

To avoid more pain, she very slowly unfolded herself and let him take
over. And letting someone else have control was another first. But it
felt so very good to do so.

*
*

Chapter Seven

 

“Can you walk? I think you’d be more comfortable lying down.”

Still sobbing, she nodded and slowly let him lead her to the bed. When
she sat down, he piled pillows behind her and let her lie back against
them. “Are you going to drill me about what h-happened?”

Soland noted the slight tremor in her voice and her valiant efforts to
stop crying. “Only if you want to talk about it. But I’m not going to
pretend I don’t want to know, Kyndall. The men who did this are going to
pay.”

Something in his voice steadied her and she was able to get a grip. Was
it possible someone was actually going to side with her for once?
“There’s no reason to call the law to come out here.”

“Don’t you want to see these men brought to justice?” He carefully
placed his hands on either side of her face and wiped away the tears
with the pads of his thumbs.

“Ed said it would be my word against theirs. There are five of them all
ready to give each other an alibi. That’s one of the ways they’ve been
getting away with killing deer and other animals on Lady Dunnemore’s
estate. There’s always a ready excuse for where they are and what
they’re doing.”

“It will be dealt with, I can assure you.”

Again, she had an eerie feeling it really /would/ be dealt with this
time, no matter what Ed, his brothers and friends might say. The pain in
her body was steadily increasing. She put one hand up and pushed back
her hair. “Thanks for coming to see me. I appreciate it.”

“I’m not leaving, Kyndall. Not unless you really want me gone, that is.”

“I don’t think I’m gonna be very good company right now. Sorry to be
such a baby about it but everything really hurts.”

He placed his hands on her shoulders, gently pulled her away from the
piled pillows then sat behind her. When he pulled her back, she was
resting against his chest. “Did the physician give you something?”

His warm breath against her left cheek was very comforting. “The
painkillers wore off and I’m not supposed to take any more.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll try to make it a bit more bearable.”

By now, anything he could do would be a blessing. When his arms wrapped
loosely about her body and clasped in front, Kyndall brought her hands
up and rested them on his forearms. She closed her eyes and felt the
beat of his heart go straight into her spine. And that huge chest was so
comfortable.

“Does it bother you that I’m holding you like this, Kyndall? If you
don’t like it, or anything I do, say the word and I’ll stop. All right?”

She frowned in confusion. “Why would what you’re doing be bothering me?”

“I was concerned over whether you’d let any man near you after what has
happened. I don’t want to do anything that makes you anxious or
uncomfortable.”

She leaned her head back so that her cheek rested against his right jaw.
“You’re not an ignorant parasite with the IQ of a rock. I could turn
over any old piece of rotting wood in the garden and find something
living there that will evolve before those bastards do.”

“Thank you…I think.”

Kyndall softly laughed though it hurt her face to do so. “Sorry. I guess
a simple ‘I trust you’ would have been better.”

He nuzzled her hair with his cheek. “I’m glad you do. And I’m glad
you’re getting back some fight. Good for you,” he hugged her gently.
“Now…can you tell me about it?”

She took a deep breath. “There’s not much to tell. They ran me off the
road and took turns slapping me around. But I got in a few licks.”

Soland was certain they’d done more than just slap her around. Though
the floral silk robe she wore had long sleeves, he could see bruises on
her forearms. And the vee in the neckline revealed cuts and bruising as
well. It took everything he had not to lose control all over again. But
raw anger was the last emotion she needed to be exposed to. Kyndall
needed to be held and drawn into talking. Even if she was pretending to
be very tough at the moment.

He reached into the pocket of his robe and pulled out the tiny unicorn.
“Autumn wanted you to sleep with this. She said it would help you feel
better.”

Kyndall took the small, stuffed animal from him and held it against her
cheek. “She’s such a sweet angel.” And it mortified her that the tears
came again.

Soland tightened his embrace and Kyndall put her arms over his. And it
was a good sign that she wasn’t going to push him away. But she still
cried. “Can you tell me where it hurts most?”

She sniffed. “My back, I guess.”

Soland knew damned well she wasn’t crying because of the pain in her
body. Kyndall could endure that. It was the blow to her spirit that most
hurt. From the little he knew of her, she was a woman who wanted to be
in control of her environment at all times. Earlier in the afternoon,
the situation hadn’t been hers to control at all and that was the main
problem. It might be that she felt as though she’d let herself down.
That she should have been able to have done more to protect herself.

He chose his next words carefully. “You know, it takes someone pretty
brave to face down five men. Pretty damned uneven odds if you ask me.”
And he silently promised to see how good they did with a Satyr charging
right at their cowardly butts.

Kyndall looked down at the knuckles on her hands. They were beginning to
swell and would look horrible by the morning. But she had landed some
really clean blows. That made her feel a little better. And as Soland
said, there had been /five/ of them.

He took her hands in his. “These need to be taken care of.” He started
to rise.

“Don’t go!” she closed her hands over his and held on. “Please just stay
for a while. I really want you here.”

He saw her drop her head and a faint blush come over her pretty
features. “All right. We’ll take care of your hands later.”

She leaned back against him more firmly, adjusted her body to fit into
his chest, and sighed. “I really am beginning to feel a little better.”

“The heat from my body might be helping to relax you. Here, lie between
my legs.”

When he brought his legs up on the bed Kyndall didn’t think twice about
doing as he asked. Maybe it was the matter-of-fact way he said it. And
it really did feel so much better. Now she was lying back and fully
against him, her back to his chest. His strong legs were on the outside
of hers. Even though her robe and his kept their flesh from actually
touching above the level of their knees, his warmth invaded every part
of her body. It made her feel very safe and protected. There was nothing
threatening or frightening about it. And he was able to really hold her
more securely. His arms wrapped about her like strong armor. Kyndall
softly moaned in appreciation of the shielding he offered. No one had
ever done such a thing for her before. Never.

He felt her sigh and begin to relax. Every primal urge he had was firmly
geared toward protection. He began a soft mantra encouraging relaxation.
“Nothing can hurt you now, Kyndall. Close your eyes and let me hold you.
Dream about warm sunshine and clean air. Let your entire body relax and
get light. It’s almost as though you can fly. And when you feel light
enough, take yourself to a safe place in a distant glen. There are birds
signing and it’s very warm there. Lie in the sweet-smelling grass. You
can smell the fragrance of it and that of wildflowers growing nearby.
You haven’t a care in the world. You can stay as long as you’d like, or
leave. You’re in control. Maybe you want to lie there and relax more
deeply. It’s so peaceful and serene. Accept it, Kyndall.”

As his low voice quietly instructed, Kyndall let herself see the scene
he painted. And she let herself relax totally. The pain left and she
slept so deep that no dreams came. There was only the warmth and peace
of the scene he described. Her mind clung to the calm instructions
because there was nothing in the words that could possibly harm her. And
he kept reminding her that she was the one in control. She could leave
or stay in that wonderful place he’d given her. So she stayed and slept on.

Soland felt her total acceptance of his magical influence. He closed his
own eyes and let the sound of his voice do the same for him. Having her
soft, yielding form against his body was sexually stimulating. But
relaxing with her in his arms was, for the present, so enticing. He had
worked very hard physically. And the emotional drain of the evening
needed to be addressed. So he allowed himself the same gift he bestowed
on Kyndall. Complete and utter peace in a place where no harm could
come. He’d never taken himself to such a level of relaxation. And it was
absolutely glorious.

* * * * *

When the sun rose, Soland awoke and remembered he hadn’t checked in on
Autumn. Forcing himself to get up and leave Kyndall was hard. Especially
since it felt so good to lie there and hold her against him. But the
entire castle would be up soon and there was still work to be done.

He carefully disengaged himself from her sleeping form, crept next door
and found Autumn was sleeping deeply. He had just finished dressing when
a soft knock sounded on his door.

“Come in.”

The door opened without Shayla’s touch and she walked in to Soland’s
room. “There’s no need for you to get ready for work today. Your people
are well ahead of schedule. And after yesterday’s events, I thought it
best to let everyone take a day of rest with their families and friends.”

“Thank you, Sorceress. I could use some time with Autumn.” He glanced at
the door and wondered what else he could do to help Kyndall. In the
hall, Shayla’s staff was already awake and moving about the castle.

Shayla noticed the brief look of concern aimed toward the room down the
hall. Or, more to the point, the person in the room. “Don’t worry about
Kyndall. Lady Dunnemore wants to stay with her. As she can barely move,
I think someone certainly should. And it’s best she’s around those she
trusts.”

“How does the search for those men go?”

“Don’t worry yourself on that account. A plan has already been put in
motion. There won’t ever be a repeat of what happened to Kyndall.”

“Remember, Sorceress. I want in on whatever you decide to do. In fact, I
want to draw blood first.”

“You consider yourself Kyndall’s champion?”

In the ways of the Order, it would appear he was doing just that. He
cleared his throat and delayed answering by making a pretense of opening
a window. “I never said that. It’s just that she’s under your protection
as much as anyone here. The woman has a right to go about her life
safely and without fear of being attacked by a bunch of hooligans. Seems
to me they’re a threat to all of us. But Kyndall doesn’t want to press
charges or even talk to the law about the incident. The only way those
bastards will see justice is if those of the Order give it to them.”

“Then it’s probably a good thing Kyndall won’t go to the police.”

“How so?” He turned away from the window to face her. Obviously the
crafty woman had an idea.

“If the police don’t know what’s happened with Kyndall, they won’t be
poking their noses into Dunnemore business later, when those men are
dealt with.”

“When we finally catch up to them, you mean?”

“Exactly,” she nodded in agreement. “I’ll let you know when we make our
move. For now, and until I say otherwise, your job is to finish clearing
the forest and making it habitable for our people. Then you’re to go to
work on restoring what needs to be done to the castle itself. Finally,
you’ll keep an eye on Kyndall until she’s well again.”

He nodded and slightly bowed his head. “As you command.”

She turned to go then stopped. “One more thing before I leave. Lore told
me this morning what you and he found yesterday. I was aware of that old
garden, but not its significance. Lore seems to think you know something
about the place that you’re not sharing. Why?”

Soland knew Lore wasn’t running to Shayla gossiping. The man was simply
reporting back on the day’s activities as he would have done himself had
Kyndall’s beating not totally overwhelmed him. “I’d rather not make
myself look foolish by claiming something I’m not sure about. With Lady
Dunnemore’s permission, I’d like to do some digging around in what
records still survive about the estate’s history. Perhaps borrow some
books from her library.”

“Of course. I’m sure she’ll be most gratified to know someone is being
so diligent with their work. But let me know if that research turns up
anything out of the ordinary.”

“I will.” She took her leave.

Soland was left to make plans for the day. His first order of business
was seeing that Kyndall was with someone. While he knew she’d balk at
the idea, the woman had lost consciousness several times the day before
and shouldn’t be left on her own. And Shayla was right. Kyndall could
barely move without help. And that help needed to be from a woman at
this point.

He walked down the hall, saw the door was ajar and lightly tapped. When
Lady Dunnemore’s voice bid him enter, he did so. The Lady of the estate
was seated in a large chair pouring tea and had already had breakfast
delivered to the room.

“Soland, won’t you stay and have breakfast with us?” Anna invited.

He smiled warmly at the motherly woman. “No, thank you. I’ll have mine
downstairs with that imp I call my daughter.” He turned his attention to
Kyndall. As he predicted, her bruises were worse. And though she smiled
at him in return, Soland knew she was still in pain and was probably
still ridiculously blaming herself for the lack of strength or cunning
it took to fight off five men.

“Will you be all right?”

Kyndall waved a hand toward the door. “Of course. Lady Anna and I will
be fine. You need to be with Autumn. She’s seen so little of you since
you came here.”

“If you need anything, anything at all, send for me. Will you?”

“I will. I promise. Now, you’d better go to Autumn. There might not be
many days off work. You should take advantage of it.”

“Very well then. I’ll see you later.” He paused to watch her for a
moment before turning back to Lady Dunnemore. Kyndall was going to play
it tough to the end. Despite the brief burst of tears the night before,
she seemed to wall up her emotions when anyone got too close. Her past
would account for it.

“Lady Dunnemore, I need to do some digging through your library and some
of your old records. Especially about the marble statuary in the center
of the forest.”

“Of course, Soland. You may make use of anything I have. Not just for
research, mind you, but for reading or any entertainment that amuses
you. I’m so fortunate to have you here. And libraries should be used,
not sitting around having their books gather dust.”

He grinned. “Thank you. I’m a voracious reader. It’ll be good to have
access to some of the classics.” Glancing at Kyndall once more, he
nodded, wished them a good day, then left.

Moments later, Anna handed Kyndall a cup of tea and sat on the bed
beside her. “Mmmmm, what a big handsome, strong rogue that one is. But
such a gentle man all the same. Well-mannered and very noble. Just like
a knight of old. Don’t you think so, Kyndall?”

“He’s as handsome as sin. And I’m quite sure he sinfully knows it,” she
joked. Her body hurt, but her spirit was so much better for his having
been with her all night. It didn’t seem to matter if anyone knew he had
been in her room or not. They had nothing to feel guilty about. And it
wasn’t as if it was anyone’s business anyhow. All she could think about
was that no one had ever cared for her with such tenderness. Though Lady
Dunnemore chattered and fussed over her and seemed to love doing so,
Kyndall couldn’t take her mind off Soland.

* * * * *

“I’m so glad you could stay with me, Daddy.”

Soland laughed as he watched Autumn blow bubbles from a container
Kyndall had purchased for her. In truth, he’d never seen his daughter so
talkative and lively. There had been few children to play with in the
hills where they hid. And it had been too dangerous to travel for a
brief visit to the Shire. There had certainly been no space available
for him and the rest of the Satyrs to move there permanently. Unlike
most of the rest of the Order, Satyrs needed a great deal of room. They
felt trapped unless there was a veritable wilderness around them. Until
Lady Dunnemore had gifted this land to the Order, they had been
patiently living their lives as they’d always done. Traipsing through
the Welsh hillside. With this land adjoining the Shire, room would be
plentiful. And the forest would hide them well.

All morning, Autumn told him about her adventure to the city. Of course,
the village wasn’t all that big, but she didn’t know that. And mundane
descriptions of the place had come alive in her stories. How he wished
he could have been there. Perhaps he would if another opportunity to
take Autumn shopping presented itself. There was still so much she needed.

“Do you like those new overalls, baby?”

Autumn looked down at the frogs embroidered on them and lovingly touched
each one. “Oh yes, Daddy. And there’s frogs on my hair ribbon too.
Kyndall said I needed to match.”

He watched as she turned to show him the bow that one of Shayla’s staff
tied in her high ponytail. Indeed it did match. And his daughter
couldn’t say enough about Kyndall. What good friends they were and how
Kyndall did things for her all the time. It was Kyndall this and Kyndall
that. Soland couldn’t help worry over the attachment his child had
formed with the woman. Searching his mind and conscience, however, he
couldn’t find a single reason to alter arrangements or break their
growing bond. His girl and the outsider obviously cared for each other a
great deal. And he trusted his daughter’s instincts.

But another matter came to mind. One he needed to speak with Autumn
about. “Come here, love. Sit by me.” Autumn slowly screwed the top of
her bubble container back on before approaching him. Guiltily, Soland
realized the care she used was due to the fact she found them very
precious. They were, in her words, “magic”. Just as magic as Fairy dust.
She cherished them because she’d never had any. And he realized it had
been very wrong to keep her hidden away. Shayla was right. Autumn needed
to know how to deal with the outside world. Kyndall was the good in it.
The men who had hurt her were the bad of it. Both had to be experienced
in order to hide successfully and survive. As a child of magic and myth,
this was imperative.

Autumn sat beside him and looked up. “I’m so glad we’re here. I love it.”

“I’m glad you do, /’m asgre/. I’ve been looking for a spot to build a
home. A stone cottage just like we’ve always talked about having.”

“Oh Daddy. That would be nice. And we could have parties and teas and
children could come over to play. And sometimes we wouldn’t have to
sleep at night anymore.”

“That is a bit different than what we’re used to, isn’t it?”

“Uh-huh. But when the forest is safe, we can go out at night and play.
Huh, Daddy?”

“Aye. We can.” He paused before continuing. “But the Sorceress tells me
you and Kyndall have been playing a lot.”

“Kyndall knows good games. And she likes to run and hide. Just like me.”

He pushed back a strand of loose hair and smiled down into her green
eyes. “And you like to talk a lot too?”

“Yes. She tells me stories. And we have nice teas.”

This was where he carefully approached the subject of just what had been
said about the Order. “Did you happen to tell Kyndall about how we’re
really Satyrs?”

She solemnly shook her head. “Oh no, Daddy. Only Lady Dunnemore knows.
Sorceress told me not to tell and so did you. I remember.”

“Well, I was just wondering. Because I think Kyndall knows about some of
our Solstice ceremonies. Did you tell her about those?”

She looked up at him guiltily. “Maybe just a little. But Kyndall
promised not to tell.”

“She didn’t, sweetheart. But Sorceress has asked me to go ahead and tell
Kyndall about us. So it’s important for me to know what she might have
been told already. Do you understand?”

“I think so. But Kyndall and me only played Solstice.”

“Kyndall and /I/,” he gently corrected. “Tell me about the Solstice game.”

“Well, it was fun. I got to be Sorceress and I had a long white robe
like Shayla wears. Only it wasn’t really a robe. It was a sheet that
Kyndall got from Lady Dunnemore’s linen closet. And I made an altar in
my room with a water goblet. Only it was really just a footstool and my
unicorn. And I had a bowl for the smelly stuff the Sorceress uses.”

“Incense,” he supplied.

“Yes. That’s the word Kyndall said too. Only I couldn’t ’member the
words Sorceress uses when she welcomes Solstice. So I kind of had to
make something up.”

“Did Kyndall like that game?” He hated questioning his child for such a
subversive reason as finding out about Kyndall’s exposure to the Order.
But there was no other way around the matter.

“We didn’t get all the way through with our game. Sorceress came and
sent Kyndall into town. Only…”

Soland watched Autumn’s face fall and a sad expression took the place of
her happy smile. “Only what, /’m asgre/?”

She bowed her head farther and clutched her bottle of bubbles to her
chest. “Kyndall came back hurt. Can I see her, Daddy? Please?”

The plea was so forthright that he couldn’t deny his child’s affection
for the injured woman. “All right. But only if she feels like company.”

Autumn stood up, grabbed his hand and tried to hurry him into the castle
and up the stairs.

When they reached her room, the door was open as it had been earlier.
Soland had to hold Autumn’s hand to keep her from running in.

“Come in,” Kyndall called, and immediately grinned when she saw the
little girl. “Ohhhh honey, I’m so glad to see you.” She patted the bed
so the girl would know to climb up beside her.

Autumn immediately did so. But when she could clearly see Kyndall’s
bruises, she carefully hugged her and put soft hands on Kyndall’s face.
“I’m sorry you’re hurt.”

Kyndall hugged her again and pulled the tiny unicorn out from under the
pillow beside her. “I slept with Mr. Uni-Horn all night long. I remember
that’s what you named him. And he made me sleep ever so much better.”
But it was Soland she looked at as she said the words. Even as Autumn
hugged her yet again.

“And what is the stuffed dragon’s name?” Soland smilingly asked.

Kyndall grinned. “The dragon is called Merlin. Right, poppet?”

“Right.” Autumn nodded. Then she held up a pinky and Kyndall looped one
of hers around Autumn’s.

Soland watched the small gesture and felt something stir in his heart.
The two of them had become much closer than he’d expected in such a
short time. It was evidence as to how much they got along with one
another. And how much his daughter needed a woman’s loving touch.

“We shall have to plan another outing into the village,” he mused. “I’m
totally in the dark about the names of your new friends. And we must
find others to keep them company.” He noted Kyndall’s approving nod.

Autumn quickly turned to her father. “Soon, Daddy? Please?”

“As soon as we can, love. I can’t say exactly when.”

At that moment, Shayla rapped on the door and entered. “I heard all the
chatter and was wondering who was visiting Kyndall.” She walked over to
the bed and tweaked Autumn’s nose. “Lady Dunnemore has some paperwork to
attend to. So I’ll sit with Kyndall awhile.”

Kyndall put her hands up in dismay. “Look, everyone, that’s not
necessary. It’s enough that an entire day of work is being lost without
wasting time with me as well.”

“It isn’t wasting time,” Soland quickly informed her. “I, for one, am
glad for the break.”

Shayla clasped her hands together. “Since you’re all working so very
hard and being so diligent, I’ll see to it that every Saturday is an off
day. Provided everything proceeds on schedule. Then you can take Autumn
into the village and give poor Kyndall a rest from the little imp.”

Autumn reached out from her place on the bed and hugged Shayla. “I like
being an imp,” the girl smilingly declared.

“Well, it’s settled then.” Soland held out his hand to pull Autumn off
the bed. He scooped her up and sat her on one of his shoulders. “Outside
with you. Kyndall needs her rest. And I want to wear you out so you
sleep through the night.”

“I don’t need to be watched now, Daddy. I’m not afraid,” Autumn solemnly
told him. “I’m a big girl.”

“So you keep reminding me,” he joked. “We’ll see if you’ve finally
gotten used to the place tonight and can find your way to one of our
rooms if you need us. All right?”

“Ohhhh Daddy, ’course I can,” she replied from on top of his shoulder.

Kyndall and Shayla chuckled. Partly because Autumn wanted to be thought
of as old enough to sleep all night in her own room, without a sitter.
Partly because Soland was unwilling, as yet, to let her grow up. It was
bound to be a fight that would last for the rest of Autumn’s life. The
man was too protective by far.

As Shayla watched him, however, she couldn’t fault his love or pride in
his daughter. Autumn was a sweet, unspoiled child. And it would do
Soland good to have a house full of children so that Autumn could do as
she was bound to. Grow up.

The father and daughter left the room. Kyndall watched them go and
wished her early life had been so full of love. Some children were lucky
that way. Some weren’t. As she saw it, it was a fact of life that just
because most people could have children didn’t mean that everyone
should. Being able to get pregnant wasn’t the same as being a good
parent. One issue had to do with biology, the other with heart.

But her past was her own problem. No one else’s. And she began to wonder
if Soland would have let her near Autumn if he knew her history. What
would he do when he found out? It was something she didn’t want to dwell
on. But the time would come when he’d have to know. By then, she could
only hope that he would know her better than to judge her by what had
happened in what seemed like another life.

Shayla watched as many expressions crossed Kyndall’s face. Before
Kyndall could accept what would be told to her, the young woman would
have to accept herself. And that, sometimes, was the most difficult task
for anyone to do.

* * * * *

In the garden, the wonderful sound of a child’s laughter filled the air.
A gentle wind filtered through the tangled masses of shrubs and vines
where Autumn played. /“My sweet baby. I can’t be there. Someone else
must be a mother to you. But only the best will do. Someone/ /who needs
to be needed. I’ll do what I can to see you are protected. I have
limited powers, but I will try.”/

*
*

Chapter Eight

 

Soland spent the rest of the day playing with Autumn, letting his little
girl show him all her new acquisitions and reading to her from new
storybooks. She was happier than he’d ever seen her and seeing Kyndall
was all right had lifted her spirits even higher. She chattered on and
on about a million things, even drawing Soland a picture of what she
wanted their new home to look like.

When it was finally time for her to sleep, he had to fight through a
mountain of bubble bath to procure his very clean and feisty child. With
amusement, he remembered Kyndall bursting in on his own bubble bath and
wondered what the woman’s perception of that situation was. It was on
his mind to ask her as soon as Autumn was snug in her bed and falling
fast asleep. Before doing anything else, he needed to do some research
on some of the Dunnemore history.

He took a quick shower, donned his robe and made his way down to the
library. He was intent on finding some reference books and any documents
he could on the marble garden. The entire household seemed to be bedding
down for the night, but he wanted to see Kyndall before she did so. With
an arm full of books and historical records, Soland carefully tapped on
her door. He turned the knob, shouldered it open and found her sitting
alone by the open window.

“No baby-sitter?” he joked.

“Shayla left some time ago. I’ve just been sewing Autumn’s nightgowns. I
still have some work to do, but they’re coming along.” She held one up.

Soland dropped the load of books into an unused chair, took the garment
from her and held it up for inspection. It had long sleeves with ruffles
at the ends. The silver stars and moons were something his daughter
would love. It was wise of Kyndall to let Autumn choose the fabric for
herself. It guaranteed the gown would be very special to her. And in the
cool nights of early spring, the flannel would keep her warmer than the
thin cotton shift she currently slept in. “You’re a very good seamstress.”

“I sewed a lot of my own clothes when I was a kid.” She didn’t add that
it had been out of necessity and that she’d done it as an adult for the
same reason. But all that had been some time ago.

“To be able to do such a thing in this day and age is a rare gift.
Anything made by hand always is. I think I’ll get Autumn some more
fabric for the summer months. Perhaps you could make her something
else?” He noted Kyndall’s pleased look and was glad he’d asked.

“Of course. She’ll need something much cooler for the summer. And she’ll
be growing so fast that she’ll need more clothes all the time.” When he
handed the tiny nightgown back, Kyndall lovingly folded it and placed it
in a sewing basket by her chair. She pointed to the load of books he’d
brought up from the library. “What are all those?”

He smirked. “It’s been a long time, but I believe they’re referred to as
books.”

She sarcastically grinned back. “All right, smart-aleck. I meant what
are they /for/?”

“Research mostly.”

Kyndall stood slowly, as her back was still aching and she dared not
move too fast for fear of hurting herself further. But she needn’t have
worried over walking too far. Soland was immediately by her side. He
wrapped a very strong arm around her waist and gently helped her to bed.

With senses evolved for survival, it was impossible not to smell the
herbal shampoo she’d used and the clean, less discernable scent of
glycerin soap she’d bathed with. Her silk floral robe was perfectly
suited to her coloring. Just as the greens, browns and russet colors she
seemed to favor in sweaters and blouses. But the styles she seemed to
prefer were always very simple. Very elegant. Kyndall made a pair of
jeans, hiking boots and a jacket look refined. Maybe it was just her
tall figure or something about her bearing. Despite her very humble
beginnings, the woman had a sense of pure class. Soland found himself
wondering what she’d look like in something the Fairies made. Some gauzy
confection spun for a Midsummer Night that would sparkle and match her
striking eyes. As he helped her settle into bed, placing pillows
comfortably behind her, Soland thought of the Grecian garden and wanted
to share his ideas about it with her first. Even before going to the
Sorceress.

Kyndall wasn’t oblivious to the masculinity that emanated from the man.
It drew her like a magnet. That black robe suited him perfectly. Even
the strange leather gear she’d seen him wear was second-nature to her
now. Somehow, for him to be in anything else when he worked seemed
wrong. Yet she felt no embarrassment at having him in her room dressed
as he currently was. Or /un/dressed, as the case may be. She considered
him a friend and he had proven just what a good one he could be. Last
night had been the most peaceful of her life, even after being attacked.
Last night was an experience she wanted to repeat, but didn’t know how
to ask for. She watched him gather the books up.

Kyndall quickly held out her hand. “You’re not going, are you?” There.
It was out. Simple enough to say yet not exactly the picture of
independent indifference she would have liked to portray. In fact, her
voice had sounded a little desperate. She inwardly cringed at the
begging quality of it.

Soland quickly looked up from gathering his books. “No, Kyndall. I’ll
stay as long as you’d like. I was hoping you’d ask, actually. There are
some things about the estate I wanted to discuss.”

Her eyebrows rose. “With me?”

“Aye. Actually, more like a few ideas I wanted to bounce off you before
I go to anyone else.”

Kyndall bestowed a brilliant smile on him. “Sit here,” she said and
patted the large expanse of bed next to her. “I haven’t eaten yet. When
cook comes up to ask what I’d like, we can eat together.”

He grinned back. “That would be grand. I’m starving.” Like a young boy
with a secret he’d be sharing with a best friend, Soland quickly sat
beside her and arranged the books between them. “You can help me.”

Kyndall picked up some of the lighter volumes and noted the titles had
do to with astronomy and the history of the estate. “What do signs of
the Zodiac have to do with Dunnemore?”

He tried not to laugh at the typical confusion between two different
studies. “Astronomy has to do with celestial bodies, their position
within the universe and the study of space. Astrology, on the other
hand, is the science that attempts to interpret the influence these
bodies have over our lives. One has to do with aspects of the planet
Pluto, for example. While the other gives us sun and moon signs such as
Virgo or Libra. Understand?”

“I guess you think I’m some kind of ignoramus, huh?” She felt herself
blush slightly and lowered her head. The man sounded so well-read. She
had only a year at a junior college to brag about, as she’d had to quit
when her funds ran too low. It was an education or eating. Those had
been her only choices.

He quickly lifted her chin up with an index finger until her gaze met
his. “Not at all. I’ll show you if you like. And I wasn’t born knowing
this. My father taught me, his father taught him and so on.”

She remembered Autumn’s references to their religion and supposed all
this had to do with that. But it really did interest her. It was a
subject that took on more of an importance because he was willing to
come to her with his ideas. Even before going to anyone else. She tried
to pay very close attention from that point on.

“I’m a fast learner. Just try me.”

Soland’s heart melted at the intense look in her eyes. There was never
any question about her intelligence. And this could be the beginning, if
he worked it right, of an explanation about the Order. He organized the
books into a more coherent pile then began with the historical data of
Dunnemore Castle. As he opened the first volume, a gentle rapping
sounded on the bedroom door. He waited for the cook’s assistant to tell
them what their choices were for an evening meal, then let the woman
leave before beginning.

“Lore and I were exploring the other side of the forest, past a deep
ravine, when we found old, marble columns situated in what was once a
Grecian garden. The columns are covered in ivy vines and some of them
aren’t standing anymore. But it’s critical that I restore them
perfectly. They have to be standing in exact alignment.”

She saw the determined expression on his face. “Why? I mean why does
that seem so important to you?”

“It’s the way they’re grouped. I believe they were used as a kind of
observatory at one time. There are six groups of columns, with three
columns parallel to each other in each group. Do you have something I
can draw with?”

Kyndall opened the drawer to her bedside table and pulled out a notepad.
“Will this do?”

He nodded and quickly sketched out the scene as he remembered it.
“There.” He handed the drawing to Kyndall.

“What’s this in the center?”

“It’s a Grecian fountain. Very old. I think it served as sort of a focal
point to gather from the six areas of columns. And I think that, as you
looked up through the tops of the columns themselves, each square
delineated a part of the night sky. Like a picture frame.”

She caught on. “And each of these frames outlined a different
constellation in the night sky.”

“Exactly.”

She was so pleased with herself that Kyndall wanted to know more. “Go
on. What are your plans?”

Her animated expression invigorated him. She was truly interested in
what he said. It had been a very long time since he’d had an adult
conversation with someone who had the time to really listen. “I don’t
want Shayla or anyone to know until I’ve got the area ready. There’s
bound to be a path leading to this place and former inhabitants of
Dunnemore must have secretly gone there to see whatever they could of
the night sky with the naked eye.”

“Why would it be so far from the castle and kept so hidden?”

“It’s my guess that one of the Dunnemore ancestors was probably into
something more than just star gazing. He or she might have only invited
very trusted people to this outdoor observatory. Depending on when this
garden was built, it may have been politically costly to engage in such
a thing. And maybe he or she just built the thing to entertain guests
who would stay there for some time. Eat, drink and be merry.”

“Like a huge orgy or something?” Kyndall giggled like a conspirator
finding a real skeleton in the Dunnemore closet. “Lady Anna would have a
fit.”

He chuckled and nodded. “What you’re suggesting may very well have
happened. Who knows what the rich and very privileged might have devised
to entertain their guests? But it’s almost certain any romps to this
garden were long affairs. You can’t just walk to this place in a short
period of time. Perhaps they set up tents and spent the weekends. Or
even days on end in the summers. I was hoping you could help me research
this a bit. Lady Dunnemore doesn’t have a clue and only vaguely
remembers the garden at all.”

“What if it was a rendezvous spot for famous lovers to hide from the
world and take a chance on the stars?”

He leaned forward. “Why Kyndall, you have quite a romantic imagination.
But if the political climate was right, that’s a very good possibility.
It would explain why it’s so far from the nearest neighbor’s place. And
that, as it happens, is Glen Rowan.”

They began to pore through books. Kyndall took notes on ideas and plans
Soland had for the gardens as well as the castle renovation and clearing
the rest of the forest itself. They were deep in discussion when their
food arrived.

They were trying out different cheeses and tasting freshly baked French
bread when Kyndall blurted out her feelings. “You know, I like this.”

“The bread? It’s great.”

She laughed. “No, silly. I like us…like this…together.” She brought up
her hands in a circling gesture that encompassed them both. “I’ve never
just talked with anyone like this before.”

“I know what you mean. Especially coming from such an isolated existence.”

Kyndall suddenly realized there were all kinds of ways to be isolated.
One was to live physically far from anyone, as Soland had done. The
other was to emotionally isolate yourself even in a crowded city. The
latter was a conscious decision made so as not to feel the pain of
rejection. Something she’d done all her life until now.

Without thinking, Soland slowly leaned toward her and nuzzled her cheek.
“This does feel good. So very, very right.”

Kyndall turned her head and let her lips brush against his. “I’d like to
see this garden of yours. Maybe on some summer night. Even if it’s just
for a little while.”

“Then you will. It’s a promise.” He lifted his hand to brush back a
strand of hair. It was as soft as the down of a fledgling bird.

She dropped her gaze from his, set the food on the night stand and
picked up a book. “Maybe we should get back to the stars. Tell me what
constellations we could see in the sky.”

Her eyes might be on the book, but she hadn’t backed away from him.
Soland’s keen senses could smell the need in her. A woman could never
hide such a thing from a Satyr. “From this part of the world and at this
time of year, it would depend upon which way you were looking. If there
were no ambient light to ruin the view or obstacles in the way, you
might be able to see Ursa Major and Ursa Minor. Virgo, Bootes, Cygnus,
Draco and Hercules as well.”

“Tell me more,” she breathed and looked up into his incredibly green
eyes again. They almost seemed to glow from within. And his voice, so
soft yet deep and compelling, seemed to capture her very soul.

“I think Draco is one of my favorite constellations.”

“That’s a name for dragon, isn’t it?”

“Very good. There are several star systems within that single
constellation. Some white and yellow stars and even some blue-white
ones. One day I’ll set up my old telescope and let you have a look.”

Kyndall paged through a book of astronomy until she found a chapter
having to do with that constellation. “I’d like to learn more.” It had
never been a subject she remotely considered learning, but it now took
on an entirely different meaning. A new importance.

“My people have always planted their crops and planned their activities
around the stars and the waxing and waning of the moon and its phases.”
He gently caressed her hair again.

She ran the tip of her tongue over her lips. “That sounds so incredibly
romantic. Though I’m sure there’s some very practical reason for it.”

His hand dropped down to her jaw and his thumb slowly traced the line of
her lower lip. “Aye, there’s good reason for everything we do. There are
no coincidences. We plan everything for the exact right time.”

He wasn’t talking about the constellations any more and she knew it. If
any other man had ever touched her in such a way, Kyndall would have
tried to rip his hand off. But Soland Leigh wasn’t any other man.
Something about him, not just his Atlas-like physical appearance, was so
unusual. Without thinking about it, she leaned into him and tucked her
head beneath his chin.

Soland pushed the books between them aside. He cradled her back with his
arms and kissed the white skin of her throat. The soft herbal scent of
her, mixed with the need, was quickly undoing his best intentions not to
get involved. Kyndall didn’t know what he was. Remembering that stopped
him. He quickly pulled back.

“Don’t stop, Soland. This feels so right.” Nothing had ever felt so perfect.

“Aye, it does. But you don’t know me, Kyndall. Not really. Until you do…”

“I know all I need to.” In her heart, for that moment in time, she knew
her words were absolutely true and that wanting him was the best thing
that had ever happened to her.

He carefully lowered her to the bed and against the pile of pillows
behind her. “You don’t understand. I’m not the kind of man who can…it’s
difficult to explain.”

She placed her hand beneath his robe then moved it to the left and down.
His heart beat hard. In a sensual act so bold it shocked her inhibited
nature, Kyndall moved her hand lower and let her fingers encircle his
nipple.

The air in his lungs left. Soland closed his eyes and felt his body
instantly respond to that touch. “Don’t play games with me, Kyndall, I
mean it. Now that I’m aroused, I have to finish.”

The low, urgently voiced words confused her for a moment. “I’m not
playing. Why would you think I’d do that?”

He slowly moved over her. Books tumbled, unheeded, to the floor. “No. I
guess you wouldn’t play games at that.”

His lips brushed against hers until they were both breathing much
harder. When he felt her hands grip his shoulders, Soland wanted the
heavy black robe off his body. He wanted her fingers to grip bare flesh.
As if she understood, Kyndall’s hands trailed down his chest and
loosened the belt of the garment. Soland slightly separated the distance
between them to help her.

“Yes, take it off me.” He closed his eyes and tried to calm his pounding
heart. The blood in his veins was heating very quickly. It was something
that preceded a Satyr’s lovemaking. When their proximity made it
impossible to remove the robe, Soland moved backward until he was on his
knees, pulled the robe off and flung it to the floor himself.

“Look at me, Kyndall.”

His words might have been a command. All she heard was the urgent need
in every syllable. When her gazed moved slowly over his body, Kyndall
felt as if every nerve would go nova. What she’d seen of the man before
didn’t do him justice. He was /monumental/. Indeed it was like looking
at a statue made of bronze. Every inch of him looked as though he spent
time honing that physique in the sun. Muscle melted into muscle and the
very sinew of his body seemed to throb. His enormous erection jutted
from a mass of soft, dark brown curls. If anyone had told her what she
was going to do next, Kyndall would have never believed herself capable
of such a bold thing. She pushed away from the pillows, knelt before him
and ran her hands up the top of his thighs. Then she kissed his throat
where he’d kissed her. Still on their knees, confronting one another,
she felt him shudder and grip the bedspread between his strong hands. He
seemed to force his lower arms against the sides of his solid hips. It
was as though he was having one hell of a time keeping them there. And
she was thrilled when Soland’s head dropped straight back and he moaned
deeply. The power she felt, the very raw strength that originated from
control, was awesome. Here was a man, almost god-like in beauty,
allowing her to take /him/. All the stories she’d read or heard about
men and their need to command the sexual situation were simply not
right. Not at this moment. And not with this man. Soland was letting her
do exactly as she pleased. And Kyndall was /pleased/ to do a great deal
more.

While his hands still gripped the bedspread beneath them, Kyndall lifted
her hands and began a soft, tentative exploration of his shoulders. His
head fell forward and long strands of his soft hair fell over his
shoulders and across his nipples. She carefully lifted the ends and
teased the areolas.

“By all the Gods in the woods, let me touch you, woman,” he gasped.
“I’ve only held off so you could see my body and know how much I want you.”

She tilted her head to one side and kissed him softly. His eyes were now
closed and he was shaking. Kyndall knew she wanted more, but didn’t have
much time. There was only so much control he seemed to be able to exert
over himself. She quickly ran her fingertips down his muscular sides to
the outside of his hips and stopped just above his clenched fists. Then
slowly, ever so slowly, she moved her hands inward and let the tips of
her fingers lightly glide over his erection. She made small tapping
motions with them and watched his erection move in response. His quick
intake of air gave her a thrill of immense satisfaction. Her womb
tightened and Kyndall felt moisture gather between her thighs.

“Kyndall! By all the…let me touch you. Now.”

“Please, wait. Just a little more,” she whispered as her breathing
quickened. “I need to touch more.”

He clenched his jaw and gripped the bedspread as though it were a
lifeline, holding him in check until he could move. But it had to be
done. Kyndall had surely never been with a man. Not with a background
like hers. And the remarkable rallying of spirit and curiosity she was
showing so soon after a brutal attack was astounding. She must trust him
very much. And he wasn’t about to dent that trust in any way. But her
soft fingers circling, tapping and playing with the curls between his
thighs was driving him insane. Then she did something that made him cry
out in sheer pleasure. Her hands went to the inside of his thighs and
pushed slightly. In order to accommodate whatever she would do, Soland
relented to the gentle pressure and opened his legs wider. One of her
hands stroked his lower abdomen while the other slid deep between his
thighs, cupped him and lifted. The caress was mind-blowing and Soland
leaned backward to let her touch even more.

“If…you…If you keep this up,” he panted, “I’ll need to release.”

“That’s what I want,” she urgently replied. “I want to watch.”

Her words, the fingers stroking him and the pure pleasure of the moment
left him with no further reservations or reason for control. Soland let
himself slowly fall backward, into the covers. His legs spread open and
his head fell over the end of the bed.

Kyndall never stopped. It was almost a relentless pursuit of his
pleasure that kept her going. The soreness in her own body seemed to
flee. She was in total control. The power was intoxicating. Her bold
touch never left his body. His legs came up to his chest, then back down
again. Soland’s silken brown hair cascaded over the edge of the bed as
his head dropped back.

He cried out long and deep as a powerful climax shook his entire body.
He raised his hips up and shuddered as her hands kept contact and
stroked his body through the entire event. When it was finally over, he
dropped his hips back down and released his grip on the bedspread.
Soland had never been less able to move, talk or respond in any way. But
she kept caressing him and kissed the top of each thigh.

“Help me up,” he panted as he lifted his hands up to hers.

Kyndall knew she was smiling like a fool. She also knew he would
probably want to turn over and go to sleep, leaving her needs
unattended. That’s what she’d heard all men did. But the empowerment she
felt over the entire situation was too splendid. She pulled his hand,
but he really did most of the work by himself. In a second, he was
sitting up. She was kneeling between his bent knees.

“So how was it?” She bit her lower lip to keep from laughing.

He looked up at her, still trying to catch his breath. “You…You damned
well know how it was, you little vixen.” Then he took one, deep
cleansing breath and placed his hands on either side of her face. “Come
here, you.”

Thinking she was about to be thoroughly kissed, Kyndall smiled and let
him pull her forward. But his hands slowly moved down her back, cradled
her, then lowered her back to the pillows again. “Your back is still
injured, my pretty. I don’t want you hurt worse. Just let me take care
of you now. All right?”

Kyndall felt her eyes open wide. “I-I wasn’t expecting you’d want to.”

He tilted his head. “Why not?”

“You’ve finished,” came her simple reply.

“But you haven’t, little wildcat. All you have to do is lie back and let
me pleasure you.” He waited for her response.

Kyndall swallowed hard and nodded. She watched as he straddled her body.
Then he carefully untied her silk robe and pulled it open. The matching
gown beneath was a long, slinky affair with thin straps. Supporting her
back very carefully, Soland made short work of ridding her of both
garments. When his gaze fell on her body, however, the green eyes seemed
to darken. Anger replaced the gentle, soft expression within them. She
covered her breasts with her hands and turned to her side. In her
excitement over his body, she’d forgotten the bruises covering her own.

“Let me look, Kyndall. Don’t be frightened. Please, don’t ever be afraid
of me.”

“I’m not. It’s just that you’re not exactly catching me at my best.”
That much was for sure. Kyndall prided herself on keeping very fit.
She’d had to fight for her life once, years ago. That experience taught
her that it could happen again. And so it had, several days previously
with the Gipsons and their friends. But she didn’t want Soland to see
her like this. Emotionally wounded and physically battered.

One hand stroked her hair while the other carefully kneaded her
shoulder. “Let me see, Kyndall. No one will ever hurt you again. I swear
it.”

Something in his voice made her turn onto her back again. She moved her
hands away from her breasts and to her side. Soland kissed her as if she
were a piece of very fine crystal and his palm slid down her shoulder to
her hand.

He sat back up, still astride her body. There was a dark bruise over
Kyndall’s right breast, another along her right thigh and it looked as
if there were two hand imprints just on the inside of both thighs. /I’ll
kill them./ He kept the thought to himself, even as he let his gaze
wander over her again. Very full breasts narrowed down to a small waist
and flat abdomen. Reddish-brown curls tightly bunched between shapely
thighs. And her long legs made him think of the Fairies who danced on
Midsummer Night. Aphrodite would be jealous of such attributes. Creamy
skin, which would be perfect once the bruises faded, beckoned him to
taste and stroke as she had done with him. His own dark and
work-roughened hands were a sharp contrast to all that soft loveliness.
Soland wanted nothing more than to wind her long, straight hair around
his wrists, gaze into those bright aqua eyes and drown. A man could know
no sweeter death.

He lowered himself over her, touched his lips to her full,
bronze-colored mouth and tasted deeply. When Kyndall responded, he knew
she would trust him enough to pleasure her. And he intended to go about
the task with lustful abandon, the way one of his kind could.

He finally broke the kiss and gazed into her eyes. “Kyndall, no matter
what you learn about me, know this…I’m a man. I care for you very much
and nothing will stop that.”

“Of course,” she softly replied. “I care for you too.”

“Then I won’t stop until I’ve finished. You’ll know pleasure such as
you’ve never known.”

Something in his eyes told Kyndall there was no brag in the
announcement. It was pure fact. “Love me.”

Soland smiled and nodded. “Relax. If you want me to stop, just tell me.
Or you put your hands where you want them to be. Whatever makes you
happy. Understand?”

His softly voiced instruction eliminated every fear. Soland would never
hurt her. She was certain of it. She relaxed as he told her and took a
deep, calming breath. Inwardly, she wondered why he was responding as if
she’d never let a man touch her. Of course, he would probably know a
woman with experience from one without.

He began by nuzzling her throat and planting small, sweet kisses on her
face and shoulders. It would take a lot to reel in his Satyr’s need to
overwhelm. But that could wait for a time when she was used to being
touched and used to having a man’s hands on her when no violence was
involved. Kyndall had more than enough of that in her lifetime. To her
credit, the instincts she had for lovemaking would make her a woman
worth killing for. Or dying for. Even in her ignorance, she possessed
the ability to watch her partner, learn and give a man an experience
that would put him on his knees screaming out her name. The Green One
would have to keep him from going insane once Kyndall was comfortable
with the entire process of making love and unafraid of all the positions
and toys he could show her how to use. The natural fire within her would
enslave him forever. But she had to know it came from /her/ and from a
wish to love one man with all her heart. Not anything in her past or her
mother’s legacy.

Soland ran the tip of his tongue over her left nipple until Kyndall’s
hands wound into his hair and she began to gently writhe in
satisfaction. Then he took the other until that response grew. His hands
stroked the outside of her thighs, then his palms slid inward over her
flat lower abdomen. He circled his tongue around her navel and watched
as her stomach involuntarily contracted with the caress. There was
tell-tale moisture already between her thighs. It was probably the
result of her loving him as much as his loving her. When he felt she was
ready, he ran the tips of his fingers over the tops of her thighs and
inside. Just as she’d done for him. Often, a lover would do for another
what they wanted done for themselves. Soland took his cues from her
touch on his body and that wonderful, lingering and gut-wrenching touch.
Soon his fondling found reward. Kyndall was breathing deeply. Her hands
grasped at his shoulders, urging him further. But he wanted to hold off
giving her the touch that would surely send her into a climax. He sat up
and lightly slid his fingers all the way down the insides of her legs,
then back up. Almost touching her soft, wet core, but not quite. The
result was to have her open her thighs willingly, wanting that touch to
go further. Higher.

“More? Do you want more, sweet one?”

Her teeth caught her lower lip, then she responded. “Yes. Ohhhh yes,”
she replied with a soft breath.

“Then you shall have it. All there is. And make no mistake, this is only
a small part of what I can give you.”

Soland lowered his head, kissed the inside of each thigh, then made
circular motions with his tongue. For a time, he stayed where he was. He
began a very slow trek upward. First one thigh, then the other. Kyndall
was more than ready to open for him. His hands held her hips in place as
she began to writhe in earnest. No matter what her body called for, it
was his responsibility to make sure no more injury was caused. When the
tip of his tongue touched her, Kyndall’s hands thrust into her hair,
pushed it back and she grasped the pillows behind her tightly. Her eyes
were closed and she was breathing deeply through those bronzed lips.

“Watch me, Kyndall. It will give you more pleasure. Watch me, if you dare.”

His soft dare was all she needed. Kyndall opened her eyes and saw the
tongue flick out once. It flickered again, then laved her thoroughly.
Surely that cry of utter satisfaction couldn’t have come from her. But
it had. And more followed as he stopped, moved back to her abdomen and
let his fingers trace small circles on the soft flesh of her inner
thighs. Soon, however, he lowered his head and began in earnest. To keep
him from leaving that sensual spot, she lifted her legs wide apart and
pulled his head toward her.

Soland knew it was time. Her body needed, so he would give. He kissed
deep within her body and heard all the breath leave her lungs. Her legs
now rested over his shoulders, his hands gripped her waist. Over and
over he kept up the motion. Kyndall moaned, then cried out.

Deep, deep within her, something gripped and wouldn’t let go. She knew
orgasms. Being alone had led her to pleasure herself. But there had
never been anything like what she was experiencing now. Her womb
tightened, released, then tightened again. And just as she thought the
waves had stopped, it began again. She bucked against it, but Soland
wouldn’t stop. Nor did she want him to. The second climax ripped through
her. There was a hard, stroking sensation and she knew his finger had
entered her even as his tongued still caressed. And when the final
contraction slipped away, Kyndall lay spent and in tears of complete
satisfaction.

Soland quickly moved over her, drew her gently into his embrace and
spoke softly. He praised her and complimented. Mostly, he knew it was
the tone of voice and the tenderness with which he held her, not so much
the words she needed to hear. He kissed her temple then pushed back the
long hair. The tears, he knew, were not those of fear or embarrassment.
Just sheer joy and fulfilling pleasure.

“Better?”

She smiled up at him. “Much.”

“Mmmm, but I’m back where we started.” He rubbed his hard erection
against her abdomen. “But lie still and rest. Watch. I want you to know
what I’ve been having to do almost every night since I’ve known you.”

Kyndall took a deep breath, blinked back the tears of happiness and
watched as he rose slightly above her and leaned toward one side. His
right leg lay over her thighs and his right hand slid downward. He
firmly grasped himself and began to slowly stroke.

“This is what happens when I even think of you and this is what happens
when I leave this room and walk down the hall to my own room.” He kept
his hand moving and was elated when she put one of hers over his. “Yes,
help me.”

When she helped by reaching farther and cupping him from below, Soland
closed his eyes and moved his hand faster. The eventual outcome was
another deeply erotic orgasm. “See? You own me, woman.” He collapsed
against her shoulder and let her arms enshroud him.

“Sleep, Soland. Sleep and let me be next to you.” She stroked his hair
and planted a small kiss at the base of his neck. They closed their
eyes, arms and legs entwined. Sleep came very soon thereafter. The
release of their bodies was as draining as the emotion that went into
the acts of love themselves. Kyndall felt herself drift to that safe
place in the forest where it was warm and no one entered. This time,
however, Soland held her. They both drifted away on a cloud of cotton white.

Soland’s dream began with her. They were in that same quiet place, but
something changed. It was as though his spirit left his body and it saw
them lying together. His arms held Kyndall, their bodies touched and
melded. But he wasn’t really with her. Complete darkness followed.

The window into Kyndall’s room blew open, but neither of the sleeping
forms stirred. The breeze blew in, lifted the pages of the scattered
books and drifted over the bodies of the lovers. /“I’m sorry, my love.
Through an open window I can come to you as it connects me to the
outside world. I would have left you with her, in that safe haven your
imagery created. But you must know what she can never talk about. You
must understand.”/

*
*

Chapter Nine

 

The darkness bothered him only because he couldn’t find Kyndall within
it. Then, his dream took on a horrible reality. As a spirit, he went
back in time and saw her seedy world as she had existed within it. He
knew what he witnessed had been her life because her memories seemed to
have become his. He saw the young girl she had once been and he began to
perceive things she would never tell him. There were situations he
believed Lady Dunnemore didn’t even know about. He watched as the scenes
played out.

The small apartment Kyndall entered was little more than a hovel. Paint
peeled from the walls, furniture was ripped and torn, food lay around
the living room, half-eaten and covered by roaches. Kyndall, as a young
girl, walked through the door and into that hell. Her schoolbooks were
cradled in both arms. For some reason, she entered with all the cunning
of a thief. Instead of bursting through the door, glad to be home, her
feet tread warily around obstacles on the floor. Her aqua-blue eyes
darted about as if waiting for something to pounce. She chewed on her
lower lip in anxiety. Soland watched, frightened for her safety. Even
though what he was seeing came from the past, his heart beat wildly.
Fear for her gripped him.

Her auburn hair was pulled back into a ponytail and her clothing was
mismatched and much worn. It looked as if someone had tried to repair
her garments over and over. Mending had been done with thread that
didn’t match and there were stains on her skirt. There was a hole in the
right elbow of her red sweater and buttons were missing from the front
of it. But the unkempt clothing looked as if it was the least of her
problems. Like one of the flies on the wall, he watched as she
stealthily crept toward her room.

“Is that you, Kyndall?” a voice called out from the kitchen.

She responded in a shaky voice. “Y-Yes, Mom. I just got home from s-school.”

Soland watched as a woman rounded the corner into the living room. At
one time, she might have been a stunning beauty, but the cigarette in
one hand and the cheap bottle of liquor in the other had stolen away any
semblance of attractiveness. There were dark circles under her eyes and
the skin hung from her face in a haggard way. The woman looked used and
coarse.

“I told you to come straight home, you little bitch! It’s almost five
o’clock.”

Kyndall swallowed hard and turned around slowly. “I-I had to stay after
school.”

“Don’t tell me. You’ve been fighting again, haven’t you? You little snot.”

Kyndall didn’t answer, but Soland could see the scene in his mind.
Kyndall had been sitting on the playground alone. It was something he
felt as though she usually did. But when one of the other children
approached and started calling her names, Kyndall got up and hit the
ring-leading boy hard. Teachers came running, berating her for starting
another fight. He could feel her anger at having the entire world know
her mother was a prostitute and that Kyndall didn’t know who her father
was. No one did, and it had been thrown in her face ever since she
started school. Parents had called about her behavior and teachers sided
with the parents and occasionally turned their backs when the
name-calling started. Social workers had spoken to her about fighting.
It seemed she did it so very often. But no one did anything to solve the
problem from her side of it. So Kyndall was left to defend herself.
Friendless and alone, she trusted no one. It had been that way for a
very long time. And all she felt and knew, Soland knew as well.

“Get into your room and don’t you come out,” her mother barked.

More than willing to do so, Kyndall fled for the safety of a
closet-sized space. She quickly shut the door and expelled a deep
breath. And Soland saw the room, for all the tattered material therein,
was in almost perfect order. The bed was made and her brush and comb sat
neatly aligned on a table below a small mirror. She quickly smoothed the
torn bed spread to make sure it was tidy. By these small acts, he could
see she was trying to control what little in her world was left to her.
She looked underneath the bed and pulled out a very ragged little doll.
At ten, it was something she should have probably given up, but he
sensed the comfort of the toy was all she had. He saw the scene where, a
year earlier, she had rescued the toy from a trash bin outside the noisy
apartment building. Inside, her mother was with another of a long series
of men. Unwilling to go inside and have their eyes drift over her body,
Kyndall had spent most of the night by that trash heap. A fight had
ensued between the man and Kyndall’s mother. As usual, it was over money
that was owed for services rendered. And the little girl sat by the
trash with her dirty little doll and rocked it back and forth.

Soland felt his throat tighten in anguish. He wanted the imagery
sequence to end and the sordid scenarios to stop, but they went on. None
of them were in any particular order. Just a vignette of horrible little
displays. One right after the other. Many times, when the fighting
between the mother and one of her customers would get nasty or
dangerous, the police had been called. Because of this, Kyndall had been
taken to juvenile facilities over and over. The policemen knew her by
name. Soland wanted to rip his own heart out and give it to her when, on
one particularly bad night, Kyndall had softly asked to stay in a quiet
place.

“I don’t want to go back there. Please,” she begged, looking into the
officers’ faces.

The policemen had looked hopefully at the social worker who had been
assigned to the case. But the careless woman shuffled her paperwork back
into her briefcase and made some ambiguous comment about it being
/“/better to keep the family unit together”. For the life of him, Soland
couldn’t see how the stupid woman could call Kyndall’s relationship with
her mother familial. There was nothing there to save. And the scenes
played out before him again. His hands clenched with the need to help.
But he was only a witness to the past. And what he saw only got worse.

On her thirteenth birthday, Kyndall did as she almost always had. She
waited in the park, hoping to find a moment when her mother was alone
before she entered the apartment. Then a curious thing happened. Soland
watched as she found a long stick and walked toward some vending
machines under an outdoor awning. Looking around to see if anyone was
watching, Kyndall knelt on the ground in front of one of them. She took
the stick and raked underneath the machine. Her search yielded a grand
total of seventy-two cents. Kyndall repeated this process until she had
checked under all the machines. Down the street, on the corner, there
was a small grocery store. She went in, bought a box of cake mix and
some canned icing, then she finally went home. Hearing her mother’s
guttural moaning coming from another room, Soland watched as the little
girl ran into her own bedroom and quickly closed the door. She pushed a
chair up underneath the doorknob, then hid her precious purchase under
her bed. Later, while she studied, a knock sounded on the door.

“Who is it?”

“I’sh mee, honey,” came the slurred, drunken response. “Open the door
an’ let your momma in. I gotta surprise for ya, honey.”

“A-are you alone, Momma?”

“’Course I am. Open the door, cutey.”

Kyndall reluctantly moved the chair and opened the door. Her
half-clothed mother stumbled in and landed on the bed.

“I got ya sumpin’, hon.” The older woman struggled to sit up, then
pulled an envelope from her the pocket of her jeans.

Kyndall carefully took the envelope and opened it. She gave her mother a
confused look, then stared at the card in her hands again.

“It’s a birthday card, baby doll. Momma got you a card.”

Soland could see what Kyndall did. The card said /With deepest
sympathies for your loss/ on the front. It was a card all right. But not
a birthday remembrance at all. The woman was too drunk to know what she
had purchased.

“It’s a wonderful card, Momma.” Kyndall ignored the sentiments on the
card, glad to have her parent remember her thirteenth birthday. Excited
by the small gift, Kyndall reached under her bed and pulled out the
grocer’s sack with her cake mix and icing. “I’m going to bake a cake,
Mom. All by myself. We’ve got some pans under the sink. When I come home
from school tomorrow. We can have a party. J-just you and m-me. Okay?”

Kyndall’s mother looked at her and nodded. “You’re right, kiddo. Just
you and me. You bake up that cake and we’ll have us a good time.”

Kyndall smiled, even as her mother stumbled from the room and down the
hall. That night, she baked her cake just as the directions told her to.
She had to borrow a couple of eggs because there wasn’t anything but
some beer in the refrigerator, but the cake was done. And when it
cooled, she iced it.

Soland watched her sweet expression as she licked the inside of the
icing can. What little it took to make a child so happy. And his heart
wept for her. Then, as if time was no barrier to the dreams, Kyndall
eagerly walked home from school the next day. She entered the apartment
and her smile disappeared. A nude man was asleep on the sofa. Kyndall
turned her face away, ran from the room and down the hall. It seemed as
if the moaning and filthy language coming from her mother’s room lasted
all night long. Late at night, Kyndall finally left her room. The men
were finally gone, her mother was undressed and passed out again in her
bedroom.

When she entered the kitchen, Soland saw through her eyes. The remnants
of the cake, so carefully baked, were smeared on the table. Dishes of
the half-eaten confection were everywhere. Without so much as a whimper,
the girl cleaned the mess. It was almost dawn when she finished, but the
sad kitchen was clean. She walked back to her room and pulled her
mother’s card from under her mattress. Her small fingers tore it into
tiny pieces that fell to the floor. And when Kyndall looked up, Soland
could see the dead eyes of a victim. From that point on, things turned
darker.

Kyndall fought more and for no reason at times. She ran away over and
over. The police brought her back at the insistence of the welfare
agencies and social workers. She stayed out late, either sitting in the
park by herself, or in the library until an employee closed the building
for the night. Her mother didn’t care.

There was no food in the house, so Kyndall took odd jobs in the
neighborhood. Many of the women there were like her own mother. There
were children just like her in their apartments. So it was easy to get
odd jobs taking care of the little ones. For her, it was a way to get
the other kids out of their apartments while their mothers “worked”.
Kyndall would take the children to the park and watch out for them until
someone came. Sometimes that was all night and into the next day. Some
of the hookers would pay her, some forgot and never did. But she kept
looking after the children anyhow. She mended their clothing and learned
to sew by herself. But food and anything else she purchased stayed
hidden. Kyndall couldn’t afford to feed herself and her mother’s men.

Then, near Kyndall’s sixteenth birthday, Soland felt a horrible dread
enter his soul. The strikingly lovely girl Kyndall had become was lying
asleep in her room. The chair she used to bar the door was in place, but
not secure enough. The door came crashing in and one of her mother’s men
stood in the light of the hall. Immediately awakened, Kyndall scrambled
for the far side of her bed, but the man caught up with her. She fought
like a little demon. He tore her old night shirt and clawed at her soft,
creamy flesh. Soland watched it all in absolute horror. In his
unconscious brain, his right hand reached for the dagger in his boot,
but he wasn’t really in the room. He was just a helpless bystander,
unable to help or change what had happened many years previously.

Seeing her chance, Kyndall wrestled her way to the door and kicked the
man off her as he fell. She ran for the kitchen and grabbed a knife off
the countertop. When he approached, she was ready.

“Put that down, sweetie. Donny don’t want to hurt you none. Just tryin’
to get what he paid for,” her mother told her.

“GET OUT!” Kyndall yelled.

The mother walked farther into the kitchen and loosely tied a robe over
her too-thin body. “Stop it, Kyndall. I said Donny won’t hurt you. You
put that knife down right now.”

“Get him out, or I swear to God I’ll kill him,” Kyndall cried out as she
raised the knife higher.

“Don’t be stupid, you little bitch. He just got paid. He has more an’ a
couple hundred dollars on him. He’s willing to pay for just a few
minutes. Just a few minutes an’ that’s all, honey.”

Kyndall’s attention was riveted to her mother. “You…You told him…he could…”

“Put the knife down, you stupid girl. When I was your age an’ looked
like you, men would pay a lot for fresh meat. They’ll pay even more
these days. It ain’t no big thing unless you make somethin’ out of it,”
her mother insisted.

In his dream, Soland cried out in rage. He watched as tears gathered in
Kyndall’s eyes. Her hand slowly dropped to her side as she stared,
stupefied, at her mother. The man who had chased her saw his chance and
took it. He lunged at the girl, but she responded instinctively and
raised the knife just at the right time. The knife drove clean into his
heart.

Kyndall watched him fall to the floor. He writhed for a moment, then
sputtered blood and died. The mother screamed and ran from the room, but
the girl just stood there and stared. Hours later, she sat in a police
station. It was as though her mind didn’t connect with ever having been
brought there. Soland had never wanted to hold another being so much in
his life, but he couldn’t touch or connect with what had been. What he
saw was an old memory. An old nightmare.

“Why don’t you tell us what really happened, Kyndall?” one of the
officers asked. “Your old lady killed him, didn’t she? Just tell us and
we’ll get a social worker over here to set things straight. We know how
your mother is. Don’t take the fall for her.”

Dazed, alone and dead inside, Kyndall stared at him. “No. I did it. I
killed him. I just got sick of having all those men in our apartment.
Always there. Screwing my mom. And her just letting them. I had to
listen to it all night long.”

Soland felt what she did. Her half-lie was the only way to get out of
the hell in which she had always lived and the story worked. Her mother
corroborated the tale to get out of being charged with pimping her own
daughter and felonious child endangerment. Kyndall was convicted as an
adult and sent to live in a women’s prison facility for three years.
When she was released, there were three more years of parole. The
sentence had been much lighter than it might have. The police never
believed Kyndall’s story and tried to explain how many times, over many
years, they had been called to her apartment.

At twenty-one and with her prison history behind her, Kyndall attended a
community college. On a special program for former inmates, she
attempted to study a variety of subjects to make something of herself.
Her mother was long gone and had never visited or written while she was
in prison. But the girl was better off for it. All this Soland knew. It
became his reality as it was hers. And he felt relief for her and knew
she was better off, but he wanted to hold her so desperately and
couldn’t. Not in that dream world. The rest of her life sped by as if
someone was pushing a fast-forward button. He saw it all.

The grant money for her studies finally ran out, but Kyndall worked
three jobs at a time to try to get more financially stable. When
employers found out about her background, because she’d put the truth in
her employment application and sent it in to the human resources
departments, they found a reason to lay her off or fire her outright.
When she lied about her past to get a job, the lie would also get her
fired. And so it went. Kyndall went through a series of meaningless,
empty jobs. Trusting no one, she made few friends, so there was no hope
of borrowing money.

In the dream world, Soland saw her walk into a park one day and sit on a
bench. She stayed late into the night and tried so hard not to cry.
Crying had never got her anywhere. Sometimes her mother had even beaten
her for having done so. While she sat, a wind blew and flipped the pages
of a discarded newspaper. The pages blew from the end of the bench and
into her lap. Kyndall started to throw the paper away, but her eyes were
drawn to a large, expensive-looking ad in the classified section. An
overseas employer was seeking a highly reputable assistant for a large
country estate. Interested parties were to call for an interview
appointment. Down to her last twenty-five dollars, Kyndall decided to
call. Soland felt what she did. He knew what she knew. Of course, the
interviewers would never take her, but going through the process would
be good experience in case something better came along…something where
better interviewing skills would be necessary. There was also an ad for
a clerk at the local dry cleaner’s shop. Since both jobs would be
interviewing on the same day, she could wear the same clothes and save
bus fare.

Soland knew the rest of the story. Everything became so clear. And when
he watched her walk away from the park, he knew she was headed straight
into his life and his heart. Slowly, he awakened into the real world.
Kyndall lay sleeping in her enchanted one. The image of the glen that
he’d suggested for her rest kept her safe and at peace. The nightmares
he’d witnessed hadn’t entered her dreams at all, so she hadn’t had to
relive all that in her mind. For that, he was exceedingly grateful. And
he was equally grateful to Lady Anna Dunnemore for giving this brave,
beautiful woman a chance.

He lifted himself up on one elbow and watched her sleep until the sun
was almost up. Somehow, there had to be a way to tell her what he really
was. Until that time, he couldn’t touch her again. The trust she had
shown was precious and rare. That she’d given it to him at all was a
miracle and he hoped the three years she’d been at Dunnemore had helped
heal her soul. But it would never do to have the lie of what he really
was between them. When he touched Kyndall again, she must fully accept
him. And she’d be loved gently, with full disclosure, or he would never
put his hands on her. That was the way it had to be.

“No one is ever going to hurt you again,” he whispered. “I promise on my
life, Kyndall.” When she stirred and moved closer to him, he bundled
blankets around her sleeping form, put his robe back on and quietly left
the room. He had to think. To plan. He wanted her with all his heart.
Not out of pity, but for the pure, unadulterated love of someone who had
so much to give. He didn’t know why he’d been given her memories by way
of dreams that were more like horrifying nightmares. But was sure there
was magic involved. No dream sequence could have been so real otherwise.
He’d smelled what she had, felt what she hand and cried when she had.
Someone or some/thing/ wanted them together. He couldn’t fight it even
if he wanted to, and he most certainly didn’t want to struggle against it.

* * * * *

The little breeze blew through the room and touched the sleeping woman
like a small caress. /“Awaken to a new day, Kyndall. Trust your
instincts and your heart. Trust Soland.”/

Kyndall opened her eyes and sat up too quick. A sharp pain shot down her
back, but it quickly dissipated. Just like the strange, warm breeze that
lifted the curtains and suddenly stopped. She was certain someone had
spoken. Of course, no one was in the room. The sun was well up and
Soland had left for work. It made her feel wanted and secure to know
he’d been there and tucked her in. She wanted to recover from her ordeal
very soon. Her back might still be sore, but the rest of her was healing
nicely.

“I’ll be up by the end of the week,” she murmured, and made the words a
promise to herself. Until then, there was studying to do. Since there
was time, Kyndall wanted to make sure the conversation wasn’t all
one-sided. She wanted Soland to have someone to speak to who could hold
their own in an intelligent, literate conversation.

After eating a light breakfast brought in by the cook, she was perusing
her third volume on celestial bodies when the door cracked open. A
little face peeked into the room.

Kyndall laughed at Autumn’s guilty expression. “Good morning. And what
are you up to?”

Autumn quietly walked toward the bed and crawled up to sit beside
Kyndall. She gripped some precious crayons in one hand, holding pieces
of paper to her body with the other. “I was drawing and made a picture
for you. Only I’m ’posed to be in my room and not bothering you.”

“Well, it’s all right. I feel very much like seeing you. And I’m glad
you drew me a picture. Can I see it?”

Autumn smiled and handed one of the pieces of paper to Kyndall. “It’s
not very good. I couldn’t get the faces just right.”

Kyndall glanced down at the paper prepared to tell the little girl the
picture was perfect. But something caused her to take a second look.
“Who’s in this picture, sweetheart?”

“That’s Daddy and you and me.” Autumn pointed to a large figure, then to
two others respectively.

Kyndall could see herself, with the reddish hair and blue eyes. But the
other two people, the little girl and the taller man, had horns on their
heads. She found this a bit disturbing and tried to figure out how to
ask about the curious drawing. “It’s a beautiful drawing. I love the way
you did my hair. And you look very pretty and your dad’s green eyes are
very nice too. But what could these be?” She pointed toward the
appendages on the figures’ foreheads.

“Horns, silly,” Autumn giggled, took one of the colors and made them
more pronounced.

Kyndall watched as the girl used one of the books on the bed as a small
desk. Autumn took her bottom lip between her teeth and a tenacious
little expression came over her pretty face as she drew more. When the
child finally handed the picture back to her, Kyndall could see that the
horns were, indeed, more pronounced and the figure of Soland had been
darkened to a very deep bronze color. It made his lovely green eyes even
more striking.

“Is this the way you see you and your dad?”

“Uh-huh. But I should have drawn some trees. We mostly have our horns
out when we’re in the forest.”

“Why only in the forest, sweetie?”

“’Cuz outsiders aren’t ’posed to see us like that. It’s a secret.”

“What’s an outsider? Is this a secret I can know about?”

Autumn scratched her forehead with her hand. “I think it’s all right.
Lady Dunnemore knows and Shayla wasn’t mad at me for showing her. I
think it’s okay for you to know now.”

Kyndall grew more confused by the moment. “Know what?”

Autumn looked up at Kyndall and paused before saying anything. “That I
can change.”

“Honey, what are you talking about? I guess I’m a little fuzzy minded
this morning.” She smiled to lighten the disturbing sensation that crept
into her spine. When the little girl took her hand and scooted closer,
Kyndall lowered her face for what she knew would be a secret.

“If you promise not to tell, I’ll show you. Just like Lady Anna,” Autumn
whispered into her ear.

“Okay. I won’t tell,” Kyndall promised, thinking it was some kind of
game or one of those religious Druid-like things the girl had already
innocently blurted out. Kyndall waited to see what would happen.

Autumn scrambled from the bed, walked to the door and looked out into
the hall. When she was sure no one was around, she closed the door,
turned to Kyndall and walked to the center of the room. “Watch, Kyndall.”

What happened next were the longest seconds of Kyndall’s life. She saw
the child drop to her knees, bow her little head and saw a kind of
golden aura appear around her. When the girl rose, she had two horns on
her tiny forehead. Each was about an inch in length. And Autumn’s skin
had darkened, as though she’d been playing a great deal in the summer
sun. Only it wasn’t summer and this was no game. Kyndall quickly threw
the bed covers aside, propelled herself off the other side of the bed
and backed into a corner. Instinctively, her hands came up to the collar
of her robe and pulled it closer. It was as if the sheer fabric could
protect her from the little demon standing in the center of the room.
The new little creature was standing right in the same place where the
sweet child had been.

“W-what are you?” Kyndall croaked out.

Autumn took a few steps forward and stopped when Kyndall put up a hand.
“I was just showing you my Satyr horns. See?” She tilted her forehead
forward and pointed to one of the horns with her index finger.

Kyndall’s heart began a tattoo she was sure the world could hear.
“There’s no such thing.”

The girl tilted her head. “Yes, there is. Wanna touch my horns?” She
poked at one of the appendages with her finger to show Kyndall it was real.

“I-I think you s-should leave.”

Autumn’s bottom lip came out and her head fell. “You don’t like my horns?”

When she saw the little girl’s dejected expression, Kyndall gathered a
bit of control. “I just don’t think this is a funny game.”

“It’s not a game.” Autumn waited for Kyndall to say something or move.
But the older woman was acting strange and it made her feelings sort of
hurt. They had always been friends. “I’ll go away.”

When the little figure walked out of the room and Kyndall heard the
child’s bedroom door close, she was finally able to pull herself away
from the corner, but only by leaning against the wall until she could
make it to a chair. Then her legs seemed to collapse. She wasn’t sure
how long she sat there, but the need to get out of the room finally
propelled Kyndall into action. If the girl could change into what was
called a Satyr, what was the father? What could he turn himself into?
Surely this thing ran in the family or Autumn wouldn’t have drawn the
picture as she had.

Kyndall quickly showered and dressed though it still physically hurt to
move fast. Her hasty actions were motivated by the fact that she didn’t
want to be in the room when someone found out what Autumn had done. In
fact, the idea started to form that it might be a good time for a career
change. According to Autumn, Lady Anna knew about all this and hadn’t
said a word. Her benefactor had never given a single hint. That Shayla
person was in on it. Kyndall was certain of that, but it made no
difference now. It was clearly time to leave Dunnemore. Where she would
go or what she would do, Kyndall didn’t know. To get away, however, she
would have to pretend nothing was wrong. Assuming the little girl,
Satyr, or whatever Autumn was, wouldn’t spill the beans on her little
transformation, Kyndall had to act as if everything was just fine.
Otherwise, there could be real trouble. If these creatures weren’t
supposed to let folks know they existed, maybe anyone finding out about
them was considered dangerous. Maybe this was why Lady Anna was giving
her land away. Perhaps there was a whole flock, gaggle or whatever a
group of Satyrs were that wanted the property. Maybe they had some kind
of hold over the old woman or had promised something in return. That
might be why Anna was allowed in on the secret where someone such as
herself would have no need to know. Kyndall began to wonder whether
anyone was going to ever tell her the truth. Just like everyone else
she’d tried to trust, there had always been lies attached to the
relationship. There had always been conditions for acceptance and love
that she couldn’t meet. In that moment, Kyndall hated Anna Dunnemore and
everyone in the older woman’s employ. But no one more so than Soland.
She’d given her heart, as well as shared an intimate act with him, the
previous night. Now she knew that everything he was, all he said, was a lie.

Anger had always been a good way for her to recover her equilibrium.
Finally finding some terms on which she could leave, Kyndall set about
making up some excuses. Or it might be easier to cause some incident
over which she could be dismissed. That would be easier. Especially
since she’d been able to get out of bad spots using that ploy before.
Worrying over the future could come later. In a temper she hadn’t felt
since being bullied and tortured in her school days, Kyndall threw only
the items she’d brought to the castle into a nylon zipper bag. All the
wonderful trinkets, jewelry and clothing given to her or bought with her
salary from Anna Dunnemore could stay. Kyndall wanted nothing more than
the meager items she’d originally owned. Other than those few
possessions, the money she earned was all that would go with her.
Thankfully, that was in a bank in the village where she could access her
funds via a teller machine. First came the showdown. She knew how to do
it. All she had to do was just go out and start a really unexpected and
terrible fight of some kind. Just like when she was a kid again.

She pitched the nylon bag back into her closet, carefully checked the
room for anything else she’d want. Then she pulled on a jacket and
walked out the bedroom door. As she passed Autumn’s room, there was no
mistaking the child’s sobbing. Kyndall wanted to pass, ignore it and go
on. But a little girl couldn’t help who her parent was, any more than
she, herself, could help it that her own mother was an alcoholic,
drug-addicted whore. Taking a deep breath, she pushed the door to
Autumn’s room open and walked in.

Kyndall paused when she saw the /human/ child snuggled into the pillows,
her tiny stuffed toys gathered to her chest. “Why are you crying,
Autumn?” She slowly walked to the bed and sat, some distance away, on
the edge. Better not to get too close. She had no idea what a Satyr was
exactly. Or what one could do to her.

“You don’t l-like me,” Autumn openly sobbed.

Kyndall tried to find words that would explain why she’d ordered the
little girl from her room. “It’s not like that, honey. It’s just
that…I’ve never seen a…a Satyr before.”

“Are you mad at me, Kyndall?” Autumn tried to move toward the older
woman, but Kyndall backed away. That was just too much. Kyndall had
always hugged and held her before. Autumn’s feelings were terribly hurt.

When the girl began to wail at a horrible pitch, Kyndall quickly got up
and closed the door. “Shhhh, Autumn. Everyone will come running and
they’ll find out about our secret.”

“I don’t caaaaaaaare,” she bellowed. Then the hiccups started and that
made her cry even more.

“Oh baby, don’t cry. You’ll make yourself sick. Please don’t…” her voice
trailed off, as the only option left was to pick Autumn up and hug her
hard. After all, it really /wasn’t/ her fault. The sobbing little tyke
just wanted someone to love her. In that way, Autumn was much like she
was. Only the option of crying hadn’t really existed for Kyndall. For
her, it had always made the situation worse.

Autumn clung to Kyndall as if her life depended upon the embrace being
good and strong. She didn’t know what she’d done wrong. Lady Anna hadn’t
been angry with her and hadn’t sent her away either.

“It’s all right,” Kyndall crooned. “I’m not mad at you, sweetheart.” She
stroked the little girl’s hair and knew she truly wasn’t angry with the
child at all. How could she be? The child had been hiding what she was
all her life. Finally trusting someone enough to tell them about herself
must have been a relief. And Kyndall felt ashamed of herself for causing
so much sorrow. But it wasn’t as if one could prepare for such a shock.
Still, Autumn wasn’t to blame. That lay squarely at the feet of her
damned father, and a rather sadistic idea came into Kyndall’s mind.
Before she left, she’d at least get even with one person who’d lied to
her. This time, she’d walk away with her head up.

Autumn sniffed, looked up at Kyndall and tried to smile. “You could be
my friend again?”

Kyndall wiped away the child’s tears and smiled back at her. “I’ll
always, always be your friend, baby. Never forget that. I’m sorry I
acted so badly. It’s just that I didn’t know that Satyrs existed. No one
ever showed me a picture of one before. It was kind of like meeting up
with someone from outer space. I just didn’t know what to do.”

Autumn tilted her head and rubbed at her eyes before speaking. “Are
there people from outer space, Kyndall?”

“Uh, no…well, I guess I’ll have to rethink that.” She took a deep breath
to regroup. “I don’t know, Autumn. There might be. Especially now that I
know what exists right on Earth.” When she saw the confusion on the
four-year-old’s face, Kyndall shook her head in dismissal. “Never mind,
Autumn. You just tell me what you know about Satyrs so I can understand.
And we’ll keep it a secret between us. Just like you said. Okay?”

“Okay.”

For the rest of the morning, Kyndall listened. Autumn taught and she
learned a great deal. The truths that had been withheld from her were
confounding. With each fact the little girl relayed, Kyndall knew what
she was being told was real. It was too complicated a setup for a small
girl to imagine. There was an Order of creatures, ruled over by the
Sorceress of the Ancients. That Sorceress was none other than Shayla
Gallagher. Autumn chattered on about Fairies, Gnomes, Trolls, Satyrs and
every kind of fable-like being. It felt very wrong to be pumping the
sweet little girl for all kinds of information, but Autumn had been the
only one who wanted to share the facts. Kyndall’s temper only grew. Why
had Soland not said anything? He’d alluded to some strange things but
had chosen to keep her in the dark. More and more lies. When the girl
yawned and leaned into Kyndall’s embrace, the trust almost broke her
heart. How dare her own father make his child hide such a thing from
someone the little girl had faith in? Autumn had put herself at terrible
risk, all because the little girl cared for a woman no one else would
talk to. Kyndall felt like an extra sock no one could find the match to.
A misfit, only good for /using/ when necessary.

For her, being left out from Lady Anna’s circle was cruel. Kyndall
believed she was being shoved aside and out of the old woman’s life. It
reminded her, again, of all the times something like this had happened
before. Old wounds were opened all over. She’d been pushed out of the
way or pawned off on someone else when there had been trouble with her
classmates. It had happened in the police stations where she’d begged
for help, with the agencies whose representatives didn’t really care,
and with her own mother. What was worse, she hadn’t really ever learned
to love until meeting Anna Dunnemore. From the very start, they had
shared a special relationship. It was the closest thing to family
Kyndall had ever known. And last night, Soland had come even closer.
Some very deep part of her wondered if there weren’t some of her mother
lying dormant in her own psyche. After all, she had rolled with the man
and moaned just like a whore. Maybe part of her subconsciously wanted to
emulate her parent. Thinking of the possibility made her sick.

It all just hurt too damned much. It wasn’t enough that no one would
tell her the truth. They had to use her too. Just like the cheap little
piece of trash she’d felt like as a child. She made a vow, however, that
being used for her was no longer an option. No one was ever getting that
close again.

Tired out from crying and talking so much, Autumn yawned and rubbed her
eyes. Kyndall held her until the little girl fell asleep. She quietly
left the room, changed into a pair of jeans, a long-sleeved shirt and a
pair of tall boots. Her injuries notwithstanding, Kyndall needed to get
out of the castle. Her anger grew by the minute. But her temper would
give the excuse to end the situation. No one was going to treat her like
a whore. No one.

*
*

Chapter Ten

 

Soland looked into the blaring sun and smiled. “It’s a good day, isn’t it?”

“You can say that. Satyrs like the heat. We Fairies have always favored
cooler temperatures.”

Soland grinned. “Quit complaining, Lore. You’ll get your chance at some
cooler weather. Spring isn’t over.”

Lore grabbed his shirt from where it lay draped over a log. He and
Soland had taken them off when the noon sun blazed down. “I’ll leave you
to this part of the forest. I want to check on the other side.”

“Good. See how that damned Troll is getting on with his work, will you?
He’s a troublesome cuss. I don’t know why I sent for him,” Soland mused.

“You sent for him because he can build the best bridges in the world,”
Lore reminded. “And he’ll guard that area with his life.”

“True. But he’s damned hard to get along with. I gave him a message from
the Sorceress this morning and you’d have thought I was putting a torch
up his butt. The man yelled at me so loudly I thought they’d hear him in
the village.”

Lore snorted. “Never mind him. He’s like that with everyone. Anyhow,
I’ll leave you to this thicket. It’s the worst part of the woods we’ve
come across and knowing you, you find it a challenge and will want to
tackle it all by yourself.”

Soland playfully shot him a middle finger. “That’s right. Go on and
leave me with the worst of the work, you damned Fairy. See if I care.”
He watched as Lore put his shirt back on, picked up his machete and
laughingly walked into the forest. The Fairy seemed to blend away into
nothing, but that was how they hid so very well. Satyrs didn’t have that
advantage. His race were larger, bulkier beings. Built for manual labor,
fighting and loving. Fairies had a habit of thinking themselves quite
unique and extraordinary. Especially when it came to the art of love.

The thought of lovemaking brought Kyndall to mind all over again, even
as he’d tried so hard to get on with his work. It was almost impossible.
He could still smell her soft, floral-scented skin. All that straight,
lovely hair lay around her in a cascade that morning. Thinking of all
they’d shared made his groin tighten within the confines of his leather
pants.

“Should’ve worn jeans,” he groused. But then he grinned. The subject of
leather made him think that Kyndall would look smashing in a black
outfit made of the tight hide. That was the ticket. Black leather pants
with a very tight jerkin to match. Her supple, rounded breasts would
show a great deal of cleavage. Just the way he liked. But he could just
as easily see her walking through the forest in something barely on.
Maybe she might wear a Grecian-type gown for Midsummer’s Eve. And he
could walk her to the marble garden and make love to her, including
intercourse, for the first time there. It would be glorious. All that
moonlight on her fair, well-oiled flesh would make a beguiling picture.
Later, they’d hold each other. It was something to think about, a sweet
scene to be sure. First, he was going to have to tell her the truth. And
he prayed to the Green One that she’d accept him. Soland made a vow to
love her so fiercely that Kyndall would have no choice but to acquiesce
to the power of his virility. That was a Satyr’s true forte.

* * * * *

The walking did her body a world of good. The trivial aches seemed to
melt away. But her temper wouldn’t be checked. Nor her wounded feelings.
Kyndall kept going, barely keeping track of the path she took. She was
aware the forest floor was now as clean and well-manicured as any
botanical garden. Soland would be responsible for that, she assumed.
Somehow, his being good at his job made her even more furious. She
wished he’d screw up at something so the man, Satyr or whatever he was
would know what it felt like. People who were good at everything needed
to be taken down a peg. He was good at making love, capturing her senses
and making her believe anything was possible. And he was also very good
at lying.

She slowed up a bit when the path narrowed. Sitting on a stone to take a
much needed break, Kyndall finally took more notice of her surroundings.
Though the view was beautiful, there wasn’t anyone in sight. Still,
they’d probably know she was near. Autumn had said the beings of the
Order were very good at hiding, which was just as well for them. She was
looking for a fight and anyone would do.

On her journey toward bedeviling anything that got in her way, the path
began to widen and she could see newly constructed stone walls ahead.
They banked either side of a bridge. The wooden structure lay over what
seemed to be a very deep but narrow chasm. This was the ravine she’d
heard about. Determined to walk a bit farther, Kyndall approached the
structure. It looked sound, but something made her stop just before her
foot hit the first wooden beam. An uneasy tingling went up her spine.
She looked across the expanse and a bearded, rather stocky individual
suddenly stood before her. He was dressed in green leather and his black
hair fell thickly about his shoulders. The man was standing at the other
end of the bridge, blocking her way. How he had appeared so suddenly,
she had no idea and wasn’t about to ask.

“What are you doing here?” he asked in a low, menacing voice.

The tone coming from that square, angry face should have quelled her.
But Kyndall was through being afraid. No one was going to send her to
her room, to block the door with a chair. Not ever again. “I’m out
walking. Let me pass.” She stated it rather as a challenge, using an
inflection in her voice that would leave no room for compromise.

“No outsider passes by without a toll. Even if you /do/ live at the
castle with the Sorceress.”

So he knew who she was. There must be some way these people could tell
when someone wasn’t a member of their Order. A secret handshake, a
decoder ring or something. But Kyndall didn’t give damn. Here was the
fight she’d been looking for. She was sure he was one of the denizens
Autumn had told her about, and he’d referred to her as an “outsider”. As
far as she was concerned, that made him fair game. He now represented
everything that really pissed her off. “Don’t screw with me, mister. You
don’t want to do that right now.” That was the only warning he’d get.

He snorted. “Is that supposed to be a threat? And what would your
problem be, little girl?”

Kyndall’s fists clenched. “I’ve got a lot of problems. Don’t put
yourself on the list. Now let me by.”

“Not without paying the toll I ask. And even if you had it, I wouldn’t
let an outsider cross my bridge. No one from outside the Order gets by
Garland.”

She smirked at him and sarcastically drawled out her next words.
“Garland? Your name is Garland?”

“That’s all you need to know. Besides, what’s wrong with my name?” he
muttered as aggressively as he could. Surely his voice would quell this
pretty little spitfire and send her running.

“And what kind of creature are you…Garland?” She uttered his name in a
supercilious tone.

“I’m a Troll, you little she-wolf. With very little effort, I could pull
you apart with my bare hands, throw your body to the four winds, destroy
any evidence that you’ve ever existed…”

“And bore me to death. Yada, yada, yada,” she rudely interrupted.

Garland felt his blood begin to boil. No one spoke to him in such a way.
It simply wasn’t done. “Why you little harridan. I ought to pick you up
and throw you into the bottom of this ravine.”

“Want to fight, little man? Let’s see just who throws who into that
hole.” Kyndall pointed at the area below the bridge, then backed off it
and onto the flat, grassy embankment. “Come on, tough guy. Let’s see
what you’ve got.”

Flabbergasted, Garland stood there and stared for a moment. “You’d
really fight me? /You/?”

“That’s what you want and I’m willing. So bring it on, Garland.” Again,
she said his name in a patronizing way, guaranteeing a fight would ensue.

“You’re insane. You couldn’t weigh enough to stop a good wind from
blowing you away.”

“I’m being bored again. Mostly by a lot of hot wind right now. Are you
gonna fight or what?”

“All right, wench. You’ve had your chance.”

Kyndall took up a fighting stance, glad she’d worn her flat-heeled
boots. When she kicked, they’d make an awfully hard impact. It was a
skill she’d learned on the city streets. She watched as the Troll
stepped from the bridge and faced her.

Garland snarled. Kyndall saw pointed teeth and it took every ounce of
gumption she had not to run. But she’d picked the fight, just like those
she’d started so many times at school. Here was something she
understood. It was the one thing she did very well. And if you were
going to go around picking fights with dangerous people, or creatures,
you better know what the hell you were doing.

Garland lifted his hands in a threatening gesture and stalked around
Kyndall in a wide circle. He growled like a wild animal. The sounds he
emanated were meant to chill the heartiest of souls.

Kyndall didn’t like it one bit. But having forced the issue, she
couldn’t back down. “Come on, Troll. Show me your stuff.”

It occurred to him that she might stop the nonsense if the woman could
see what he really was. So he backed a few yards away and knelt to the
ground.

Confused for a moment, Kyndall didn’t equate what he was doing to what
Autumn had done earlier. Only when a hulking green powerhouse with
midnight black eyes stood up did she understand the folly of fighting an
enemy far beyond her means to comprehend. His ears had become overly
elongated and there were sharp incisors protruding from his upper jaw.
“Y-you weren’t joking, were you? You really are a Troll.”

“Not quite as good-looking as that self-indulgent peacock of a Satyr,
but impressive nonetheless,” he snarled.

“You’re talking about Soland?” Kyndall questioned as she regained her
stance and waited for an attack.

“Who else?”

They circled each other threateningly. “Why don’t you like him?”

Garland stopped stalking her. “I do. He just needs to be reminded that
looks don’t equal brains.”

“Yeah, well, I’m pissed at him myself.”

That revelation was a curiosity. “Most women want him. Ever since his
woman died, Goddess rest her soul, they fawn over him like a prized
breeding bull and he shoos them away.”

Angry she’d probably be included in that assortment of females, Kyndall
bristled. “I’m not one of his women, okay, pal?”

“All right, all right. Don’t start a war over it. It’s just that women
like you are almost always attracted to men like him. At least they are
in the Order.”

“In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m not one of the Order.”

“That’s true enough. But why are you walking in the woods alone? Does
the Sorceress know you’re here?”

For a moment, she had to think who the Troll referenced. “Shayla? I
don’t know if she knows where I am or not. I don’t give a damn either.”

Garland blew out along breath. “You must be angry, or you wouldn’t say
such a thing. With a snap of her fingers she could probably turn you to
stone or something.”

Knowing there were worse things that could happen to a person, Kyndall
pushed her hair back with one hand. “Are you going to fight me or not?”

“I don’t want to. But if you keep insisting…well, I can’t just stand
here and be talked to as if I’m nothing. What would you have me do?”

“Just let me walk across the stupid bridge,” Kyndall burst out, trying
to reason with him.

“I can’t. You have to pay the toll. I’ll overlook the fact that you’re
an outsider. But I can’t let one go by me without some token. It’s a
tradition that I won’t break. Not ever.”

Exasperated, Kyndall pushed her hair back again. “All right. What do you
want? I don’t have any money on me.”

“What use have I for money? I find what I need from the land. Trolls
have lived that way for centuries.”

“For God’s sake, what do you want then?”

“I don’t…” He stopped and tilted his head. “Someone’s coming.” He turned
toward the forest.

Kyndall waited and watched for what seemed like an eternity. But it was
probably only a few minutes. Suddenly, Lore emerged from the woods, on
the far side of the bridge. She wondered what his place was in this
ridiculous charade.

Lore stopped short when he saw Garland in his true form. It was
immediately apparent the outsider knew a great deal more than he’d been
given to believe. Soland had told him she didn’t yet know about the
Order. Confounded by the Troll’s indiscretion and Kyndall’s appearance,
he slowed his pace and stopped on the bridge. “Kyndall, what are you
doing out this far from the castle? You’re still injured. Should you
have walked such a distance?”

“Should you have walked such a distance?” the Troll mimicked in a
demeaning manner. “I was with her, you winged firefly. No harm would
have come to her.”

Lore shot a warning look at the Troll. “I don’t think Kyndall needs to
hear this.”

Kyndall took Garland’s description literally. “You’re a /firefly/?”

Lore expelled a breath, dropped his head in consternation and completed
his journey across the bridge. “No, I’m a Fairy. Their leader, as it
happens.”

Garland shot a thumb at the immensely taller man. “He’s another one who
thinks the Earth revolves around his good looks. A regular Adonis of the
woodland set, he is.”

Kyndall couldn’t help smirking. The Troll was in a mood much as dark as
her own. Or maybe that’s the way Trolls always were. Either way, if she
couldn’t get the fight she wanted, the only recourse was to head back to
the castle. “If you two don’t mind, I’ve had enough exposure to kiddy
land for one day. I’m going back. But I will cross this bridge, Garland.
Sooner or later.”

“Wait a moment, Kyndall. I’ll walk back with you. Just let me get some
business with Garland out of the way.” Lore turned to the Troll. “Have
you got those signs up yet?”

“What signs, you blasted lightning bug?”

Lore’s temper with the man was in check, but only by sheer force of
will. “Excuse us for just a moment, will you, Kyndall?” Lore walked back
to the center of the bridge, expecting the Troll to follow. When he
turned, the ornery cuss was there. “You need to get the signs up warning
poachers and any unwanted visitors off this land. Soland has asked you
three times already. Now where are they?”

Kyndall wasn’t so far away that Lore’s angry but subdued voice didn’t
carry. In that moment, she felt rather sorry for the Troll.

Garland walked to the far side of the bridge, picked up the
prefabricated, metal sign and held it up for the Fairy to see. “Here’s
the bloody sign. And there are more over there.” He pointed to a pile of
them. “If you hadn’t been staring at the woman as if she was another of
your conquests, you’d have seen them lying there when you first walked
across my bridge.”

Lore put his hands on his hips as the obstinate Troll held up one of
prefabricated signs. He was holding it upside down.

Garland practically shoved the thing at Lore. “It says, ‘KEEP OUT OF THE
FOREST’. Just as the Sorceress ordered.”

Kyndall bit her lower lip. Not only was the sign upside down, but it
clearly said, ‘NO TRESPASSING, PRIVATE PROPERTY’.

“Just get the damned things up and be quick about it. I wouldn’t want to
be you when Soland gets back and finds they’re still lying here.” Lore
stalked away from Garland and toward Kyndall.

She waited for Lore but caught the downcast look Garland had when the
bigger man walked away. Again, she felt sorry for the Troll. Here was
someone who might be a total screw-up, just like herself. No matter what
he did, Garland was probably always in trouble. And this time, the
trouble incurred was probably her fault. The Troll hadn’t got his work
done because she had offered to fight him. Lore’s next words confirmed
some of her own thoughts.

He took her arm and gently propelled Kyndall away from the bridge and
back toward the castle. “I’m sorry one of your first introductions to
the Order had to come from that damned Troll. It doesn’t speak well for
us, Kyndall. I’m hoping you let Soland explain about the Order before
passing judgment on us all.”

Keeping her promise to Autumn, Kyndall kept her mouth shut and let Lore
think Garland was the first to expose himself to her, metaphorically
speaking. The less they knew she knew, the better. Their walk back to
the castle was made in silence.

* * * * *

Having worked hard and smelling like it, Soland quickly made his way to
a hot shower that night. He checked on Autumn and found her eating a
late night snack with Lady Dunnemore. After promising to read to his
daughter and tuck her into bed for the night, he walked to Kyndall’s
room. Every step that brought him closer was in anticipation of another
wonderful night together. He softly rapped at her door.

Kyndall knew that knock. Just like she knew almost everything else about
the man. When she arrived back at the castle that afternoon, Autumn was
just waking from her nap. They talked a great deal more about the Order.
Armed with information previously withheld, Kyndall was angrily waiting
for Soland to make an appearance.

“Come in.”

He came through the door with a smile on his face, but it quickly faded
when he saw the pure aqua-blue fire in her eyes. “What’s wrong?”

Kyndall stood with her arms across her chest and glared at him. “What
could possibly be wrong, Soland? Or should I curtsey and refer to you as
His Lordship, the leader of all the Satyrs?”

Soland could almost feel the blood in his veins chill. “How did you find
out?”

“What difference does it make? When did you plan on telling me? Or were
you ever going to?”

“Shayla wanted me to break it to you, but it isn’t something I’ve ever
done before. I hoped you’d take it better if you got to know me first.”

“Oh yes. The omnipotent Sorceress of the Ancients. Why didn’t she just
tell me herself instead of leaving the dirty work for you?”

Soland let out a long breath and dropped his head back. “You and she
haven’t always been on the friendliest terms. I think she believed it
might be better coming from me.”

“Again, when were you going to tell me, Soland? After you got tired of
having sex with me? Were you going to pass me off to Lore or one of the
other members of the Order?”

Soland clenched his teeth. “You know better than that.”

“Do I? I didn’t really know anything about you at all. In my book,
before you sleep with a woman, you should at least tell her she’s
getting into some kind of bestial situation.”

He tried to curb his rush of pure rage by thinking of Kyndall’s
background. Her anger was the result of years of mistrust and abuse.
Having felt herself betrayed, Kyndall would push everyone away any way
she could. For her, it was the only thing that would save what pride was
left to her and cover the hurt all at the same time.

Soland took a step forward. “You don’t mean what you just said.”

“The hell I don’t! Just get away from me. Go find one of your own to rut
with. I’m not up for grabs anymore.”

“I’m going to try very hard to forget you said that,” he angrily
muttered. “Just know one thing, Kyndall. I’m not going to be pushed
aside. You’re hurt and I’ll accept that. I should have spoken to you as
soon as I was given permission from the Sorceress. But the poachers
attacked you and I couldn’t just open up a discussion about the Order
after an incident like that. You needed time to heal and still do. When
you’ve calmed down and want some real answers, I’ll be down the hall. Or
you can have someone fetch me. I’ll come. But I won’t go away. I’ll
never be driven off. I’ll always care about you, no matter what. Say
whatever you want, I’ll still be here.”

Kyndall watched as he quietly walked out of her room. Something inside
wanted to run after him. Just the way she’d wanted to run after her
mother and beg the woman to love her no matter what. But she wasn’t that
little girl any longer. That child had died. The woman who took her
place was savvy and didn’t believe anyone would really ever stand by
her. As she’d done with everyone else in her life, she tested him. If he
could be driven away, he wasn’t worth having. Even if she’d have him
knowing he lied, which she wouldn’t. None of it was in the cards. Not
for Kyndall Taylor, ex-inmate, murderer and the daughter of a prostitute.

In his room, Soland paced. He desperately wanted to hold her and
explain. That pain in her eyes was unwarranted. Ultrasensitive to any
slight, however, Kyndall would take a long time getting over this. She
wasn’t going to easily see that he’d only tried to break things to her
slowly, in a way she could understand and accept. Was he just supposed
to have changed in front of her and demanded the Order be a part of her
life? Only when the woman knew him well would he have let her see his
true form. Only then could she begin to accept the wonders just outside
the castle door. Now he’d have to start all over and make up for the
damage cloaking himself and the Order had caused. Further, Kyndall’s
anger might spill over onto Autumn. In that respect, his daughter had to
come first. His baby couldn’t get involved in his and Kyndall’s
misunderstanding. For surely that’s all it was, a misunderstanding. If
he could just get past the woman’s hurt and anger, explanations would
come easier.

Sometime later, Kyndall heard Soland’s heavy footsteps as they left his
room and entered Autumn’s. After that came hours of silence. During that
time, she formulated a plan. She might have been born trash, but stupid
she wasn’t.

Just before dawn, she put on some hiking gear and slipped from her room
as silently as possible. There was no way she’d enter the woods
undetected, but there might be a way to make her excursion seem
acceptable after a time. But only if that damned Troll would listen.

It took awhile to make it to the bridge, even with the use of a good
flashlight. There was an eerie silence all around her and she felt she
was being watched. Being an employee at the castle would give her
protection from whatever guardians lurked in the dark. Again, how long
that protection would last would be up to Garland. As she had been
tricked by a member of this so-called Order, so she would trick the Troll.

“What are you doing here, you silly twit?”

Kyndall grinned when she recognized the low voice. She couldn’t see him,
but he was very near. “I want to talk to you. Alone.”

Garland lumbered into the beam of her flashlight. “Put that out, will
you? We never use such things. Here it isn’t so bad. At the fringes of
the woods, light can be seen by outsiders.”

“Oh, sorry,” Kyndall apologized, then switched off the flashlight. “I
didn’t think of that. I guess you can see in the dark like everyone else
in the Order? At least that’s what I hear.”

“Is that what you came to talk about? My eyesight?”

“No. I came to make a deal with you.”

“What kind of deal?” Garland sat upon a rock to listen.

“Look, before I start, could you turn into human form? I’m a little
nervous about this as it is.”

“Ohhhh, all right.” He knelt, changed and walked closer. “Now, what kind
of deal did you have in mind?”

“I’ll make arrangements to pay a toll if you promise to let me cross
your bridge when the time comes.”

Curious as to what kind of payment the pretty outsider had in mind,
Garland waved his hand for her to continue. Dawn was coming soon and he
should be going about his work. But it was just too interesting to hear
what her plan was. Especially since she’d brazenly come to see him alone.

Half an hour later, just as the sun was coming up, Garland held out his
hand in agreement. “It’s a deal, Kyndall. Only you mustn’t tell anyone.
It will be our secret.”

Less afraid of him now that he only looked like a squatty, swarthy
tollkeeper from hell instead of a Troll, Kyndall grinned and shook the
man’s hand. Anxious to get back before Soland made an appearance, she
walked back toward the castle. When she was only about a hundred yards
from the ornate front door, Lore walked out of it and spotted her.

Fearing something was wrong, Lore stood his ground and waited for
Kyndall to get near enough to hold a conversation. He noted the
flashlight in her hand. “You shouldn’t be in the woods at night. Even
though my guards are all about, we haven’t enough people here to see you
safely to and from the castle. The trails are still a bit rough and you
wouldn’t want to fall after having been hurt so badly.”

Wary of his concern, Kyndall simply nodded in acceptance. “I just wanted
to look at things. See if I couldn’t get used to…you people and your
surroundings.” The explanation sounded lame, but the big man smiled and
seemed to accept it.

“I’ll take you then.”

“No! No, that isn’t necessary.” She tried to put him off.

Lore slowly shook his head. If anything happened to her, Soland would
have his head on a stake. Not to mention the Sorceress and Lady
Dunnemore as well. Besides all the obvious reasons, it wasn’t in a
Fairy’s nature to be anything but chivalrous. “Sorry, Kyndall. If you
insist on walking about in the woods, I’ll have to escort you, or have
someone do it.”

Anxious to avoid suspicion, she sighed and nodded in agreement. “All
right. But only until I get near the bridge. I won’t need anyone
following me that far. I-I’ve already made myself familiar with that
part of the path,” she lied.

Lore watched her expression and tried to pick up on anything he could
sense as a covert response to his attention. She was hiding something
and didn’t know he could sense it. She was either meeting someone at the
bridge, or there was something at that location she didn’t want him to
know about. “All right. But I insist on walking you back when you leave
the vicinity of the bridge. Whenever you feel it’s necessary to visit,
I’ll at least wait until you’re through.”

She expelled a loud breath in frustration. “That isn’t necessary. You
work long hours. I can certainly go on a damned walk by myself.”

“Not in these woods you can’t. Not without an escort. At least until the
guards get used to you and the path is made safer. I really must insist.”

“Okay. Fine. You’ve insisted. But I don’t want what I’m doing being
gossiped about. Would you mind not telling anyone? It’s just a simple
walk, for crying out loud.”

“So long as you’ll let me take you into the woods so you stay safe, I’ll
grant you that.” He hoped the woman hadn’t met someone behind Soland’s
back and agreed to have an early morning tryst in the woods. There was
plenty of the household staff, Order members Shayla insisted on having
near, who could easily tempt a woman to have a fling. If that was the
case, Soland would be furious. The Satyr considered the woman his
special concern. But Lore reasoned their relationship was between the
two of them. Now that he knew what the woman was doing, his
responsibility was to see she didn’t get hurt.

She put up her hands in a supplicating gesture. “Are we through? Can I
go in now?”

He ignored the sarcastic tone and stepped aside. Outsiders would never
learn to mask their feelings from creatures as sensitive as Fairies. The
woman was definitely up to something.

* * * * *

/“Awaken, my love. She needs to see you care. Show her, in that way you
know best. Don’t let her force you away as she has everyone else. Stay
with her.”/

A warm, gentle wind flowing through his room had Soland up a few minutes
earlier than normal. The morning air seemed to carry a message that was
almost tangible. But he shook his head in dismissal at that idea.
Breezes couldn’t communicate. It was just his nerves on edge over
everything that had happened recently.

He finished dressing and peeked in on Autumn only to find the little
girl slumbering soundly. He was about to leave her room when a drawing
caught his eye. It was lying on a chair. As soon as he picked it up, he
glanced, exasperated, back at the girl. He vowed to have a serious talk
with his daughter. She had a tendency to trust. While that was fine at
the castle, the outside world was a different matter. He now had a
strong suspicion how Kyndall found out about his being a Satyr. The
childish rendering depicted him with a good set of horns and skin that
was much darker than his normal coloring. The eyes were a startling
green and seemed to glow. Which, indeed, they could on occasion. That
and the star-shifting shape of the pupils allowed his kind to find their
way in the dark, just like some Fairies, Goblins and many others of the
Order.

He neatly folded the drawing and put it in the waist of his pants. As he
walked out the door, the object of his thoughts walked up the stairs.
There was a flashlight in her hand and the woman was dressed as if she’d
been on a long hike. Her long, shining hair was wind-blown and there was
a soft, breeze-kissed blush on her cheeks. He waited. When she saw him,
Kyndall averted her eyes and would have walked right past. Undaunted by
the cold reception, Soland simply stepped in her way. Kyndall’s haughty
and aloof response to his presence only heightened the need to be near her.

“Where have you been so early?”

“To Oz. Looking for a brain. Any other bright questions?” came her sharp
retort.

He ignored her sarcasm. “We need to talk.”

“Here’s my door. Talk to /it/,” she told him as she tried to open the
thick barrier, enter her room and shut it between them.

Soland pulled the handle shut and effectively trapped Kyndall with her
back against the heavy oak. “Is this how you know about me?” He pulled
out the drawing, and handed it to her.

Kyndall snatched the paper, opened it, then stared at him. “No.”

So she’d lie to protect his daughter but didn’t give a brass farthing
about him. At least not now. “If Autumn is going around telling anyone
what she really is, disregarding all she’s been taught, don’t you think
that could put her in danger? Even though she trusts you, she can’t be
so careless.”

It was a trick question and Kyndall knew it. To respond that Autumn
hadn’t been in danger by drawing the picture would break her promise
with the girl to keep the colored page a secret. To tell Soland that she
didn’t know what he was talking about would get the tyke into trouble
for drawing pictures and leaving them lying around for anyone to find.
Either way, she didn’t want to see the girl punished. Not for trusting.
There was so little of that in the world as it was. Besides, Kyndall
didn’t know what he or Shayla might do to the child. She’d like to
believe he would never let his own daughter get hurt, but trust didn’t
come to Kyndall the way it did to Autumn. And what little trust she’d
given had been completely squashed.

“Leave Autumn out of this. Why don’t you pick on something your own
size?” she growled. “Any oak should do.”

Trying to control his temper, Soland slowly took the picture out of
Kyndall’s fingers, refolded it and placed it back in his waistband.
“I’ll have to speak to Autumn about this. She’s been taught to be more
careful concerning what she does and says. All our lives depend upon
what each of us does.”

“For God’s sake, she’s just a little girl. She already told Lady Anna
and thought it would be all right to…” Kyndall stopped when she realized
he’d tricked her into telling.

“Thank you. That’s all I wanted to know,” he turned away, hoping his
gamble would pay off. If Kyndall would defend Autumn, if she cared about
his child that much, there was still hope.

She quickly put her hand on one of his biceps to stall him. “What are
you going to do?”

“Wake Autumn up and have a long talk with her. It wasn’t her place to
reveal us.”

“She’s just a kid,” Kyndall defended. “You want to talk, then talk to
me. I’m the one she told. And I promised her it would be a secret
between us. It’ll break her heart if she thinks I went running to you
about what she showed me.”

Soland turned back and looked down into those shocking, aqua-colored
eyes. “Why do you care? She’s just a Satyr.” He had the satisfaction of
seeing her gaze drop in confusion.

“She’s just a little girl,” Kyndall repeated. “It’s the adults around
her who make her hide.”

“Hiding is what has kept us alive, Kyndall. It’s what she’ll do all her
life. What I’ve done all mine and what her ancestors did all theirs. I
only need remind you of your own response to my—how did you put
it?—‘bestial’ attentions. And you, at least, know me. How do you think
the world who doesn’t would deal with me, or some of the other members
of the Order? What do you think they’d do to us, Kyndall?” He waited for
her response.

“I-I don’t know.”

“You’re more familiar with the people of the outside world than I. Some
of them are the real monsters on this Earth. Not us.” He moved closer to
her and repeated the question. “Tell me. What do you think they’d do to
us? There are precious few like Lady Anna Dunnemore. She’s risking all
she has to help save us. What would you and the rest of the world do?”

“I’m not like…that is…I’m not like everyone else,” she blurted.

“Your response to me isn’t very convincing. Before you knew what I was,
we were close. Now I can’t even get you to look at me. Why? What’s so
different about me today? Does a set of horns and the color of my skin
matter so much?”

“That’s not fair,” she murmured. “It’s not the same thing as asking if a
different race matters. It doesn’t. But you’re talking about a whole
different species or something. How do you expect me to respond?”

He slowly shook his head. “I could tell you there are other outsiders
that have mated with our kind. They live among us happily and bear
children proudly. But that wouldn’t keep you from making some excuse
about us not being together, would it? You see, that’s not what’s really
bothering you, is it, Kyndall? I think your problem goes deeper. Much
further back.”

“What are you talking about?” She backed away as he came closer. Kyndall
stared at the open part of the leather shirt he wore and the massive
chest beneath. The tone of his voice was soft and passionate. It filled
her with fear and yearning all at once.

“This always happens with you. When anyone gets too close, you push.
You’ll do or say anything to chase people away. It isn’t me you’re
afraid of, or the Order. It’s getting too close to anyone who might
befriend you. Anyone who might care for you.”

“I didn’t know you studied psychology along with all your other hobbies.”

“The sarcasm doesn’t work with me. That’s another mechanism you use to
put people off. You’re afraid of getting hurt. Everyone you’ve ever
known has hurt you. So you put up walls they can’t get past. Barriers so
strong they quit trying and go away. That’s how you keep safe, isn’t it,
Kyndall? My being a Satyr is just an excuse you’ll use. But any excuse
would have done once you knew I was beginning to care.”

Shaking with anger, she pushed him until he backed up a few steps. “You
don’t know anything about me.”

“Yes, I do.” He approached again but didn’t corner her. He stood to one
side so she’d feel there was a way to escape. “I know about your mother,
the endless calls to the police department. I know about the fights you
had at school, how you ran away and all the social workers who let you
slip through the system. And I know about the man you killed and why.”

Turning so he couldn’t see the tears in her eyes, she faced the door. “I
see Lady Anna couldn’t wait to tell everyone about me. It must have been
quite an amusing conversation,” she whispered.

He put his hand on her shoulder and tightened his grip. “No one was
laughing, Kyndall. Lady Dunnemore told me the first night I was here.
And the information wasn’t shared to hurt you. I think you’d better talk
to her so you’ll understand.”

His words hurt her worse than anything she’d ever known, even her own
mother’s rejection. Kyndall couldn’t speak. That Lady Anna had told her
darkest secrets was the final humiliation. The trust she’d had in her
employer was now completely destroyed. Leaning against the door, she
silently wept. What she was would never go away. Even moving to a
different continent had done no good. The emptiness and her reputation
would stay forever and she began to ponder why God hated her so much.
What had she done to bring down this kind of punishment?

Soland wanted to take her in his arms and hold her so tight that nothing
could come between them. The brave, beautiful creature would only see it
as pity and that would kill her.

“Please don’t do this to yourself, /’m asgre/.”

“What’s the Welsh word for trash?” she whispered. “I’d like to learn
what I am in other languages. That way, when everyone talks, I’ll at
least know what’s being said.” She tried not to let her voice shake too
much.

Soland shook his head in dismissal. “It isn’t something you’ll ever hear.”

She slowly turned to face him. “Never mind. I’m sure someone else will
tell me. They always have.”

He reached for Kyndall just as she walked through the door and softly
closed it behind her.

His closed fists rested against the hard wood. He could feel her pain as
if it were a blade plunged into his own heart.

*
*

Chapter Eleven

 

After standing at Kyndall’s door for some time, Soland finally took
Autumn to breakfast. He left his little girl in the hands of one of
Shayla’s staff and it was very hard pretending nothing was wrong. As
young as she was, Autumn sensed something bad had happened. Her usual
morning chatter was greatly diminished. After breakfast, walking away
from Kyndall was one of the most difficult things he’d ever done.
Someone needed to be with her. She’d probably never felt more alone. He
was passing the open door of the parlor when Shayla called out to him.
Wanting to be by himself if he couldn’t be with a woman he desired,
Soland was about to pretend the command hadn’t been heard. Knowing the
infantile slight wouldn’t go unnoticed or unpunished, he shook his head
in frustration, turned and entered the parlor.

“Yes, Shayla?”

“I’m told Kyndall knows of us.”

He dropped his head, put his hands on his hips and guarded his next
words. “She’s right. There’s entirely too much gossiping going on.”

“I beg your pardon?” Shayla approached him with a cup of tea in her
hand. She offered him the cup and motioned for him to take a seat.

Soland careful sat in a chintz brocade chair across from Lady Dunnemore.
“I’m quite busy this morning, Sorceress. Can this wait?”

“No, it most certainly /cannot/. And be careful what tone of voice you
take with me, or I might not allow you to accompany the Goblins.”

Soland put his tea cup down, immediately catching the reference. “You’re
finally going to take care of the poachers.” It was a statement rather
than a question. The look on the Sorceress’ face was solemn, stoic, and
her silver gaze menacing. He’d seen that expression before. The hunt for
revenge was on. At least there was one bunch of thugs who would never
hurt anyone, either from the Order or the village, again. This he
silently swore.

“Sometime within the next few weeks, Lore and the Goblin leader will go
into town. We’re given to believe the poachers frequent a tavern there.
The Gipsons will be lured to some place that won’t implicate Lady
Dunnemore or anyone from Glen Rowan. You’ll go with the rest of the
Goblins and wait for the poachers to arrive at your location. It’s all
arranged. Wait for my signal and make sure there’s no sign of your
having been present. Make it look like an accident. I think you know
what to do.”

He stood up. “The first blood drawn will be by my own hand.”

Shayla glanced toward Lady Dunnemore to see what impact his angry,
gruesome words would have.

Soland also looked toward the older of the two women. “You must forgive
the medieval habits of my kind, Lady Dunnemore. For centuries, we’ve
defended ourselves. If what we do seems calculating and cold-blooded, if
it seems like we’re murdering savages, it’s only because we’ve no choice
left. Please try to understand.”

Without so much as a twinge, Anna lifted her teacup to her lips. “After
what they did to my Kyndall, the whole lot of them can rot. I’ve always
said there’s other justice in this world. And now I know there is.”

Soland nodded in agreement and felt admiration for the woman and her
understanding of their situation. “I wish there were another way. But
there isn’t. We can’t go to the law and if those men aren’t stopped,
they’ll keep on until someone innocent gets hurt or worse. They’ll keep
killing the animals.” Soland stopped, stared down into his cup for a
moment than continued. “If you’ll do me a very great favor, I’ll be
forever in your debt, Lady Dunnemore.”

“To the contrary, my dashing young man. The town and its inhabitants
will be rid of some men who’ve killed livestock, robbed landowners of
their livelihoods and practically raped a girl I dearly love. They’ve
been doing things like this for years with impunity. It’s one of the
reasons I could no longer get good foresters. One of my men was shot in
what he called an accident some years ago. He would never tell me what
really happened or who had done the shooting. I think the Gipsons
threatened his family until he was afraid to talk. After that, my entire
estate began to go to hell. And those who wouldn’t be run off were
bribed into letting poachers kill anything they wanted on my land. Even
some of my lovely horses. Well, it’s at an end. I made up my mind to it
the day they laid hands on Kyndall. That sweet, loyal girl should never
have come to such a thing. It’s unspeakable. You do as you’re ordered,
my man. It’s /I/ who will owe /you/. But ask anything of me you’d like.”

Soland raised his eyebrows at the Lady’s impassioned stand on the
subject. Truly, she would have made a wonderful Druid. “The only favor
I’ll ask is that you speak with Kyndall. She knows you talked about her
past and shared it with me and it’s hurt her badly. I’m sorry I told
her, but I care deeply for her and wanted no barriers between us. Can
you understand?”

“Of course I do.” Anna stood up and took his hand in hers. “When I was
sure she’d be all right with this Order business, I was going to let her
know what I’d said and why. But you know how she is when anyone wants to
love her. So many times, I’ve had to restrain myself from showing too
much affection. Even after all the years she’s been in my employ. I was
afraid she’d leave if she knew why I really hired her. She wants no one
to get too near. And at the same time, she misses being loved. Her
mother’s influence has, as they say, done a real number on her head and
her heart.”

He nodded in complete agreement. “I think the sooner someone speaks with
her, the better.” He looked at the roof, toward her room. “You didn’t
see her eyes…The way she looked at me…”

“Don’t worry, you young rogue. All will be well, I promise.” Anna patted
his hand. “You just keep your mind on more dangerous matters at hand.
Kyndall would be devastated if anything happened to you. Even if she
can’t show it.”

Shayla nodded in agreement. “She simply doesn’t know how to accept love
or give it. We must all be patient with her. But she shows great promise
with little Autumn.”

Soland took a deep breath and tried to put his mind on the tasks ahead
of him. “If she needs me, or if I can be of any further service, I’ll be
on the other side of the ravine. We’re in the final stages of clearing
now. The house and gardens will come next.” He bowed slightly and took
his leave.

“The work is going much faster than even I had anticipated.” Anna
clasped her hands in approval.

Shayla poured Anna and herself some more tea. “Our people are anxious to
have new land to wander and care for. By this time next year, your
property will be a showplace. Full of all the magical creatures you
could ever hope to see. You won’t ever be sorry for the generosity
you’ve shown, Anna. Our people will never forget this.”

“It’s as much for Kyndall, that noble man who just left and all the
young lovers of the Order who dream and hope.” She sighed wistfully then
smirked. “What a grand figure of a man that Satyr is. Ohhhh, to be fifty
years younger.”

Shayla chuckled. “We have older men who are every bit as virile, Anna. I
can see them being very interested in a woman such as yourself. You know
how the saying goes…the older the violin, the sweeter the music.”

Anna felt the room go a few degrees warmer at the thought. “Hmmm, do
tell. Do tell.”

* * * * *

Kyndall slowly made her way down the stairs. Avoiding everyone for the
entire day had been easy. She heard people moving about. Her meals came
up to her with the cook or one of Shayla’s staff. But the inhabitants of
the castle left her completely alone otherwise. When Soland returned
from work, she knew he’d been next door with Autumn and could barely
hear the child’s voice asking for her. But what his response had been
she could only guess. The man had kept his voice quite low. It seemed he
might have hesitated outside her door, but turned and gone into his own
room instead.

Kyndall had only one promise to keep, then she would leave for good. As
she approached the woods from outside the castle, Lore appeared from the
undergrowth like a wraith. It startled her into immobility for a moment.

“I told you, if there’s a need for you to be in the forest at night,
I’ll see you get to where you’re going,” he reminded.

When her heartbeat returned to normal, Kyndall simply nodded and let him
lead her toward the bridge. With his help, she got to Garland in no
time. Leaving her to her own business, Lore turned and left when Garland
trudged forward.

“What’s /he/ doing here?” the Troll asked in a low voice.

“He caught me coming back into the castle after I’d been here to see
you.” She turned to watch Lore disappear into the woods as quietly as he
appeared. “I didn’t tell him anything, but he insists on walking me here.”

Garland stroked his chin for a moment. “Actually, that’s probably for
the best. You can’t adjust to walking around at night as we can. You
could get hurt.”

Surprised by the Troll’s concern, Kyndall tried to ignore any feelings
of warmth in response. There was no use making any friends here. Or
anyplace else. She quickly took out her flashlight, opened a small bag
she carried and pulled out the contents. “Are you ready to start?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Garland told her and rubbed his hands together
in expectation.

“Remember our agreement, I do this for you and you let me pass when the
time comes.”

“Of course,” came his curt reply. “Trolls always keep their word.”

And so it went. Kyndall found ways to avoid anyone in the castle, only
seeing even Autumn for just a few minutes each day. She stayed in the
gardens and watched as the area was readied for new planting. New sun
dials and ornaments of all kinds were brought in. She heard the workers
talking about the restoration of an old boxwood maze and wished she’d be
there to see the work completed. The speed with which the place was
being cleaned was uncanny. But then, when supernatural powers were put
into use, what could she expect?

Soland returned early one afternoon to oversee the groundwork in the
castle gardens. Kyndall was walking around looking at new nursery plants
that were waiting for a home in the dirt. As soon as he approached,
however, she lowered her head and quickly walked away. It would be easy
to force her to speak with him. He could go to Shayla or Lady Dunnemore
about her reluctance to communicate with anyone, but that would only
make the woman dig her heels in further.

Unable to sleep one windy night, troubled by Kyndall’s silence and
coldness, he was surveying the area around the small castle pond. That’s
when he saw her sneaking quietly out of the castle. It was very late and
Lore met her at the fringe of the woods. Something he’d have never
thought possible crawled into his heart. Jealousy. Had Kyndall rejected
him in favor of the Fairy leader? It was entirely possible. She’d never
held any grudge toward Lore and had never spoken to him in anger as she
had himself. Fairies had a way of getting past a person’s personal
defenses. Perhaps Lore had found a way around the wall Kyndall had built
between her heart and everyone else.

For almost a week, he watched as they met. And Kyndall had distanced
herself further and further from everyone else. Even Autumn. And that
angered him most of all. The little girl suffered for that lack of
contact. All she did was ask for Kyndall. To break his child’s bout of
depression over the matter, Soland made good on a promise. He entered
her bedroom early one morning in regular jeans and a work shirt and
gently shook the little form.

“Rise and shine, Autumn.”

Autumn rubbed her eyes and turned to see her father sitting on the side
of the bed. “G’morning, Daddy.” She held up her arms for him to hug her.

This Soland did with his heart in the embrace. “I promised we’d go into
the village. Would you like to go today?”

“Oh yes, Daddy, yes!” She bounced up and down on the bed.

“All right then. As soon as we get you dressed and have breakfast, we’ll
go.”

“Daddy?”

“Yes, pet?”

“Can Kyndall come too?”

He chose his words carefully. “I think she’s still feeling unwell, /’m
asgre/. Maybe some other time, all right?”

She pursed her lips, considering the answer to the question. “All right.
But maybe we could bring her something back?”

“Maybe we can.”

A little over an hour later, he was driving them both toward the
village, armed with directions from the Sorceress and Lady Dunnemore. It
had been a long time since driving a vehicle, but Lady Anna’s newly
restored sedan was large and powerful enough to make him feel right at
home. A car seat had even been installed for Autumn. That, he’d been
told, had been Kyndall’s doing. And while they drove, Autumn chattered.
He attempted to join in, but his mind kept drifting back to the woman,
her strange behavior regarding those clandestine trips into the woods
and her refusal to address him and his daughter with more than a few
obligatory greetings. She was always kind to Autumn, offering one excuse
or another for not being around so much, but she was more coolly polite
to him.

As soon as he could, Soland resolved to tactfully find a way to ask Lore
what was going on between them. By now, the Fairy should have offered an
explanation if all was innocent. Lore knew he and Kyndall had been
growing close. And his best friend’s betrayal hurt him even further.

After arriving in the village, Soland parked the car on a street where
there was a toy shop. Despite his despair over Kyndall and her
rejection, he had to smile at his daughter’s antics. She quickly undid
the straps of her car seat by herself and anxiously awaited release from
the locked back door.

“Hurry, Daddy. Hurry up. Come see, come see!” she shouted.

He grinned and raced after her. They made their way from one shop to the
next. His enthusiasm returned with his daughter’s. It was a pure joy to
watch her show him things she didn’t think he knew about and some he
really didn’t. It drove home the absolute need to teach Autumn about the
world so she could defend herself within it one day.

They had just finished eating the pizza Autumn craved, packed up the car
with their new treasures and were ready to leave. That was when Soland
saw one of the Gipson brothers watching him from across the street.
Boldly, he stared the man down as Autumn climbed into her car seat,
leaving the back door on the sidewalk side open.

Unshaken by his Satyr’s stare, the smaller man crossed the street and
approached. After seeing what had happened with Kyndall, Soland felt the
need to tear the man’s throat out. That, of course, was impossible. At
least for the present. And he had Autumn to worry about. Besides all
that, he was standing on a sidewalk of a busy village roadway where
anyone could witness a confrontation. Soland steeled himself to hold
onto his already threadbare temper.

“G’day to ya, gov’ner,” the man drawled.

Soland shot the bastard what he hoped was his most deadly look, then
turned away without acknowledging his presence further.

“’Ere now. Wait up.”

“I’ve got nothing to say to you,” Soland muttered angrily, and tried to
keep his fists from clenching.

He smiled. “I was just wonderin’ what was up w’ the little chippy?”

Soland quickly turned. “I hope you’re not talking about Kyndall Taylor.
If you are, you’d better rephrase the question.” He deliberately kept
his voice low so people passing by couldn’t hear.

Alarmed by the larger man’s unexpected aggression, he quickly put up his
hand. “See ’ere, Mack. That was m’ brothers Ed and Frank. I don’t hold
no grudge. Let’s let bygones be bygones.”

Soland glared at the other man. “If you ever come near her again, I’ll…”
He stopped before anyone could take notice of his angry posture and the
tone of his voice. It was the stupidest mistake to advertise his intent.
Especially in public. He relaxed his stance and took several steps away
from the other man. “Stay off Dunnemore land, or you’ll be sorry,” he
quietly finished.

“Is that a threat? I think it is.” The man smiled. “Oh, you’ll never
’ear the end of it now. When Ed ’ears ’bout this, you’ll see just what
the Gipson boys can do, eh? We own the law and everything else
’ereabouts.” He quickly shut up until several window shoppers walked by.
Then he held up one index finger and pointed it toward Soland. “I’ve got
your number, mate. You wait ’n see.”

Soland watched the man make a hasty retreat, then looked around to see
who might have witnessed the encounter. He pushed one hand through his
long hair. The last thing the Order needed was one of its members
accosting villagers on the street. But it seemed all was as peaceful as
it had been. No one seemed to notice the other man’s retreat or his
behavior. He quickly got behind the wheel, strapped his seat belt and
entered the roadway.

“Daddy, why were you mad at that man?”

Soland could have cut his own hand off for the oversight. How in the
world could he do such a thing in front of his child? This was the
second time she’d seen violence from her father since coming to
Dunnemore. “I-I’m sorry, Autumn. Daddy did something he shouldn’t have.
It was wrong.”

“Is he a bad man?”

How did he answer except to tell the truth? “He’s one of the men who
hurt Kyndall, /annwyl/.”

“Then I hate him!” she virulently replied.

They were almost out of town, but Soland had to pull over when he heard
the words come out of his child’s mouth. When it was safe to do so, he
turned and looked at her. “Sweetness, it isn’t right to hate people.
Never say that,” he gently chided. “That man hurt her, it’s true, but
Goddess teaches us that all things will balance out. He’ll be punished
in time.”

“But he hurt Kyndall.” She pouted as she clutched her new toy.

“I know, love. But hating only makes us sick inside. It only hurts us/./
You understand?” He pointed toward his heart.

She looked down at her new stuffed friend, Mr. Hooty the owl. “I guess
so. But it isn’t right to hurt people either.”

“No, it isn’t. But the time will come when those who hurt others will be
judged for it. Daddy was angry with him too. But that doesn’t mean I
should have done what I did.” /Not in front of you/, he silently added.
When Autumn nodded, he turned around and drove on. It was unclear
whether his daughter was saying what she thought he wanted to hear or
whether she was really sorry for her words. But Soland suddenly felt so
alone in the world. How was he, a single father, going to protect her
from the dangers that lay all around? Discovery of the Order wasn’t the
only thing to worry about. The thought of sending his daughter to town
alone made him want to lock her up until she was at least in her
mid-thirties. “Dammit, Spring. What am I supposed to do? If Autumn were
a boy, I could…”

“Huh, Daddy?”

“Nothing, sweetness. Daddy was just thinking out loud.”

There were plenty of women in the Order who could fight. And they were
masters at it. But they weren’t his sweet little girl. His hands
tightened on the steering wheel. What if Autumn had been born into a
world like the one Kyndall had known? The images his mind conjured could
easily drive him insane. His erratic, helpless thoughts only added fuel
to the anger he felt about current matters. He wanted things sorted, his
life in order, his daughter safe and Kyndall in his arms. Somehow, he
had to find out what she and Lore were doing and get her back into his
protective circle.

* * * * *

Late in the night, Soland waited in the darkness. The confrontation had
to come. As he saw it, there was no other way to clear the air. But he
didn’t want to be close enough to alert Lore to his presence. An hour
later, the two conspirators met. Soland waited, then followed them into
the woods. When his conscience balked, his heart drove him to find the
truth.

Lore suddenly stopped and turned. At times, members of the Order could
mask their presence. But he sensed the large man emerging from the
darkness wasn’t playing games or hiding this night. “Soland. What are
you doing here at this hour?”

Kyndall saw his massive form looming toward them and he looked angry.

“I might ask the same of both of you.” Soland tried to keep the anger
out of his voice but couldn’t be sure he was succeeding. Surely Lore
would sense the jealousy in him.

“What business is it what we do?” Kyndall blurted.

“Careful, Kyndall. The man was just asking a question,” Lore warned. The
last thing he wanted was a confrontation with the Satyr leader, who was
still one of his best friends. Satyrs as a race were notably calm and
loving. When challenged, however, they took their love life unbelievably
seriously and it puzzled him that Soland would want the woman so much,
yet leave her to her pain. He knew Kyndall’s past as well as the Satyr
did. Clearly, Soland was making a public stand to clear that matter up
for good. The guards in the forest would report back to other members of
the Order about what was taking place. There would be no end to the
gossip. At least until something equally interesting came along about
which to spread stories.

“May I speak with you alone?” Soland addressed the question to Kyndall.

With only the moon and starlight to illuminate his features, she could
see the intense brooding look on Soland’s face. There was nothing she
wanted to hear, but something told her Soland wouldn’t go away no matter
what she or Lore said. She glanced at Lore and nodded slightly. She
waited until Lore moved away, but noticed he stayed within her range of
vision.

“What do you want, Soland? It’s quite late for you to be up, especially
when you have to work tomorrow.”

“So does Lore. But it isn’t keeping the two of you from frolicking
about, now does it?”

“That was his decision. I was just walking through the woods and he made
it his business to accompany me.”

“Come off it, Kyndall. This isn’t the first night you two have been
together,” he angrily accused. “I’ve seen you before.”

She audibly gasped and held out her hands, palms up. “What are you
doing? Spying on us?”

Soland stepped closer. “I just want to know what’s going on. I thought
you and I were well on the road to having some kind of meaningful
relationship.”

“That was before,” she quickly countered.

He sighed heavily and dropped his head for a moment. Then he looked up,
trying to gauge her emotions. Curiously, she seemed confused more than
annoyed. “I’ve tried to explain about myself. You don’t want to listen.”

“Why did you lie to me?”

“Why did /you/?” he shot back.

“I never lied to you, Soland. Never.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about your past yourself? What was that if not a
lie by omission?”

She looked down at the toes of her boots, shoved her hands into her
pockets and shrugged. “I was afraid you wouldn’t let me look after
Autumn if you knew. Who wants a murderer looking after their little girl?”

Soland took another step toward her. It put them very close. Close
enough so that only she would hear his words. “I don’t care about your
past, Kyndall. All I care about is the kind of person you are right now.
I trust you with my daughter. Why can’t you trust me? Let me inside.
Just open the door a tiny bit and I’ll take it from there.”

She turned her head away. “It isn’t that easy. And stop going off in all
directions with the conversation. What are you doing out here?”

He took a deep breath and decided to go ahead and spill his guts. There
were too many issues between them to add to the mix. “I’m bloody well
jealous.”

She tilted her head, astonished by this revelation. For a moment, she
couldn’t speak.

He pushed back his hair with one hand. “Well, aren’t you going to make
some kind of caustic comment or something?”

“You’re jealous of me and…and Lore?” She nodded toward the other man,
who was still waiting patiently near the path.

“Maybe you find him more appealing for some reason. Though why you’d
give a tinker’s damn about a Fairy is beyond me. I’d have given you more
points for brains than that.”

Despite the back-handed compliment, the anger in his voice and the
aggressive way he put his hands on his hips, Kyndall had to fight off a
smile. He really /was/ jealous. And it was a new experience for her.
She’d never let anyone get close enough for such a thing to happen. When
men had come on to her in the past, there was always a ready insult or
sarcastic remark to drive them away. That ended up, more often than not,
in getting herself labeled a /bitch/ or some other coarse name. But her
aggression kept the men away. With few exceptions, her general opinion
of them was exceedingly low. All she’d ever wanted to do was find a
place where she could fit in and be left alone. Romance never entered
the big picture. As far as she was concerned, there was no such thing.
Not for her.

“Well, aren’t you going to say anything?” He lifted one hand in a
questioning gesture.

“I’m not having some kind of affair with Lore. I thought I made my
opinion about this whole Order thing pretty clear. And he’s as much a
part of all the secrecy as you. So why in the world would you think I’d
be messing around with him? And why in hell am I justifying myself to
you?” She shook her head as if the movement could chase away the
confusion she felt.

“Kyndall, all I’m trying to do is get things straight between us and
find out why you’re walking around in the middle of the night with
another man. As for Lore, he’s my best friend. But he’d better call on
all the gods and goddesses of the forest for help if he gets between you
and me.”

The words made the very marrow in her bones heat up. The intensity with
which he said it caused her heart to pound. Not in fear or repulsion. It
was more like anticipation. And Kyndall had a very hard time seeing him
as anything other than a hugely desirable man. The way he glanced at
Lore and clenched his fists made her believe Soland might even fight for
her. For the moment, he wasn’t some strange creature from a fairy tale,
but a man who was professing his feelings because he seemed to really
want her. But good things never came her way. Something would happen, as
it always had, to end the happiness. Chief among the dream-breakers was
this thing called the Order. Then there was the small matter of his
being a Satyr.

“Now why the bloody hell are you out here?” He tried the question one
last time. If she wouldn’t talk, Lore was going to see the business end
of his fist for causing this particular problem. The Fairy knew better
than to come between him and a woman. There was a pervading feeling that
he and Kyndall were meant to meet and be together somehow and that no
one should get in the way. Whatever the reason, he wanted a straight
answer. And he wanted this entire misunderstanding over with.

“I can’t tell you, Soland. I made a promise to someone.”

He dragged his hands through his hair in exasperation as his temper got
the better of him. “You’re /’r odiaeth ’n anawdd/-headed, /’n anhydyn,
’nddibriod-dendiedig benyw/ I’ve /bob amser cyffyrddedig/!”

Her eyes widened. “What? What the hell did you just say?”

“It’s Welsh,” Lore called out. He was loath to get into the middle of
their business more than he already had, but Soland’s voice had risen
several octaves. It was hard not to hear the man’s frustrated complaint.
“He said that you’re the most hard-headed, obstinate, single-minded
woman he’s ever met.”

“Thank you for the translation,” Soland called back. “Will you leave us
alone please?” He turned his attention back to Kyndall. “You’re driving
me crazy.”

“Yeah? Well, I might be driving you crazy, but it sounds like the Welsh
people need to drive somewhere and buy some vowels.”

Soland stared.

Kyndall immediately realized he didn’t understand her sarcastic, obscure
reference to a popular game show on American television. But her
smart-mouthed insult just might have put him in a mood she had never
seen. In fact, he looked really pissed. She wondered what Satyrs looked
like when they got really enraged. Some instinctive, self-preserving
part of her decided she didn’t really want to know.

“I-it was just a joke, Soland. I didn’t mean that.”

“If you’re through berating my native language, can we get back to the
subject at hand?” he muttered in a low voice.

Tired of waiting for them to settle their differences, Lore finally
blurted out what Kyndall wouldn’t say. “Oh for the love of Danu! She’s
teaching old Garland to read. Damn thick-headed Satyr!”

“Lore! How in the world did you know about that? I made a promise not to
say anything,” Kyndall exclaimed as she turned toward her waiting escort.

“Well, I didn’t,” the Fairy quickly replied. “I knew that’s what you
were up to. Everyone who’s in the forest all night does. The guards can
hear you teaching him. And if you weren’t going to tell Soland, I will.
He’d have heard about it sooner or later. Besides, this is ridiculous.
It’s late, we all need some rest and Garland will be wondering where you
are.”

“Is that true, Kyndall?” Soland softly asked.

“Yes, it’s true.” She glared at Lore. “Why don’t I just post all my
business on a billboard so every-damn-body will know what I’m doing,
where I’m at and how long I stay there?”

Soland smiled at her sarcasm. But her outward demeanor didn’t hide her
generous gesture toward the Troll. Gossip of the Order was always steady
and strong. Somehow this piece of it had missed his attention. Or it
might have been that everyone thought he knew already if Lore did. He
would probably have known all this sooner had his attention not been
occupied on mending rifts with Kyndall. “Teaching Garland to read is a
very kind and wonderful thing to do. It’s a great gift to give anyone.”

At the sound of his softly phrased comment, Kyndall turned her attention
back to Soland. “He and I sort of struck up a friendship. I don’t really
know how it happened. I was just walking through the forest, looking for
some butt to kick. I found Garland.”

Soland reached out and pushed a strand of hair off her cheek “And did you?”

“Did I what?”

“Kick Garland’s butt?”

Against her will, Kyndall smiled back. “I was going to try, but Trolls
look kind of dangerous when they’re mad.”

He stroked her cheek with his index finger. “You could have taken him. I
know it.”

She chuckled. “You’re giving me a lot of credit.”

“No. I’ve just seen you when you’re mad.”

From the depths of the forest, Lore shook his head in impatience. “I
hate to interrupt again, but I would like to get some sleep tonight. You
two sound as if you’re getting along famously. May I leave?”

“Go to bed, Lore. I’ll take Kyndall to Garland. And I’m sorry for what I
was thinking about you.”

Lore shook his head, glad to have the nightly excursions out in the
open. “We’re friends. I can’t hold your thoughts against you. Satyrs
actually think so seldom that they don’t often get it right.”

Soland smiled, shook his head in mock anger. “Later, Lore.”

“Later, Soland.”

Lore clapped the Satyr on the shoulder as he walked by, then made his
way back to the castle.

After the Fairy left, Soland gazed down into Kyndall’s face. “So are you
talking to me again?”

She shrugged. “I’m not out here to talk to anyone but Garland.”

“Must be some kind of bloody good deal you and that Troll have to be out
here this late. Trolls don’t do anything with or for anyone without
something in exchange.”

Kyndall didn’t answer as it was none of his business. But she hoped the
deal would work for her when the time came.

*
*

Chapter Twelve

 

As they walked toward the bridge and Kyndall’s nightly appointment with
Garland, her anxiety grew. Getting close to Soland again was the last
thing she needed. He had already come closer to her, physically and
emotionally, than anyone she had ever known, and something about his
having done so frightened her. Deep in thought, Soland’s voice pulled
her back to the moment.

“You said you had questions to ask.”

“I don’t know where to begin. I guess I don’t understand much about this
Order of yours. Garland has been explaining some details, but nothing of
the history. How did you people come to be? And why does Shayla have
such a hold over everyone?”

“Many centuries ago, it’s said there was no Sorceress of the Ancients to
govern our actions. In fact, Druids were a free-thinking lot. Decisions
among them were made based upon common cooperation. Just like all the
magic beings that walked upon the Earth. But that was the time of
Arthur, King of all Britons. Arthur was a kind and wise ruler. His reign
was marked by tolerance for all people. But when he was betrayed by his
son Mordred and fell in battle, the countryside was besieged by petty
warlords hoping to rule in Arthur’s place. War, famine, disease and
destruction plagued the land. Many of the people blamed the dead Arthur
for not having foreseen Mordred’s treachery, especially when his most
trusted knights had warned him about it. The magic beings of Arthur’s
Camelot were among those the people saw as guilty of throwing the
country into turmoil. We supported the King, advised him, fought by his
side and served as his knights and aides. So, since Arthur was dead and
couldn’t be made to suffer for his misjudgment, those of his court were
held accountable. Many even began to believe that it was the use of
magic that had caused the downfall of the great king’s rule and chaos in
the land.

“Rumors spread that the magical creatures started the wars, just so they
could let the humans kill each other off and take the island of Britain
for themselves. The entire country hunted down and destroyed thousands
of us. Men, women and children. It made no difference to the outsiders
who they killed just as long as we all died. To save ourselves, we were
forced into hiding. We huddled in small groups, living off the land like
thieves and scavengers. When time passed and outsiders—those without
magic—thought we no longer existed, we began to gather. It was then that
one woman began to stand out as a leader over us all. Her powers were
much greater than anyone else’s. Her name was Earwyn, the very first
Sorceress of the Ancients. Under her, we began to strengthen in numbers
and to find new ways to conceal our presence.

“A set of laws was drafted. And though some of those laws have been
interpreted differently and rewritten by every Sorceress who has
followed Earwyn, most of them still stand in their original form.
They’re the system by which the Order lives and survives. Eventually our
existence became nothing but folklore and myth. Stuff of memory and
legend. To the outside world today, we aren’t real. And that’s the main
reason why we can exist as we do. Shayla rules over us because she’s the
most powerful. While her methods sometimes seem unusual and even harsh,
the consequences for breaking our laws could be much worse. Failing to
heed them could put us all in jeopardy and bring the entire human race
right down on top of us. I’ll let you use your imagination as to what
would happen then.”

Kyndall considered his words for a moment. “Why has she allowed any
outsiders into the Order? Garland says there are other people here who
don’t have magic powers. And you told me the same thing. I remember you
saying that, though I didn’t understand it at the time.”

He shrugged. “It had to happen eventually. In a closed society, you need
new blood to strengthen dwindling numbers.”

She nodded. “I suppose so. But from what Garland tells me, I’m the only
outsider who wasn’t invited or brought into the Order for a reason. The
sad part is Lady Anna would have eventually given Shayla this land even
if I hadn’t been allowed stay.” Anna Dunnemore’s secrecy and
manipulative actions really hurt. It seemed everyone knew everything
about her miserable life and what was going on with the Dunnemore
estate. All the creatures in the woods knew how she’d been bartered as
part of the deal for the property. It made her feel used and pathetic
and the last thing she wanted was anyone’s pity. She could generate
quite enough of that within her own heart. Her pride was wounded by the
entire matter. What precious little of it that was left.

Soland stopped walking, put his hand on Kyndall’s shoulder and forced
her to turn toward him. “You can be as vital a member of our society as
the rest of us. All you have to do is honor our laws and swear fealty to
the Sorceress. It’s a formality that’s only done nowadays because she’s
our protector. Your oath to obey her and our rules is a promise to keep
us all safe. To live among us in harmony and help protect our kind even
at the cost of your own life.”

“And what would I do in your Order, Soland? My job with Lady Anna
doesn’t really exist anymore. Shayla’s staff have taken over all my
duties. I’ve mostly been looking after Autumn and messing around in the
garden a little bit. The only things I know about aren’t the kind of
skills that would help your people. The only thing I ever did well got
me locked up for three years.”

“If you really feel that way, then you’ll never find any place, here or
outside, that will make you happy, Kyndall. I’m convinced you can do
anything you put your mind to. You’re intelligent, resourceful and you
have a good heart. If you’d quit putting up barriers every time someone
gets close, it would be much easier to help you get adjusted.”

Easier said than done. Kyndall turned away and continued walking toward
the bridge. She didn’t question Soland about anything else. And he
didn’t seem in the mood to continue the conversation either. What they’d
shared was over. He lived in his world. She in hers. After finding out
what he was, she was convinced there could be nothing between them. She
wasn’t even sure if he qualified as human, though Autumn’s appearance as
a Satyr hadn’t been hugely different. But that was the way everything in
her life had always gone. Just as the brass ring was offered, there
would be someone or something to cruelly pull it away. Even her time
with Lady Anna would have come to an end sooner or later. It was an
ingrained feeling she always had and carried deep within her. All
happiness and peace seemed just out of her reach. She not only expected
loss but felt anxious when it didn’t come on time. When losing was
delayed, it made it harder to take when the final blow was delivered. It
was an odd way to live. But it was all she knew. And better the devil
you knew than the one you didn’t. Caring about anything too much only
brought pain. That was one reason she never let her real feelings for
Lady Anna reveal themselves. It was better to tamp them down hard, so
they didn’t take root. Still, against her better judgment, deep
affection for the old woman had certainly germinated. But that was all
over. Kyndall had definitely learned her lesson for good. Lady Anna
hadn’t kept her secrets and had openly discussed them with others,
including Shayla. As far as she was concerned, it was a betrayal of the
worst kind.

Finally, she had mistakenly let Soland get too close. Once again, she’d
been metaphorically slapped back into her proper place by finding out
that a hidden Order of magic beings existed. And that Soland Leigh and
his little daughter were citizens of a world she didn’t fit in. The
fates had a way of pulling the rug right out from under her. She
wondered why, with so many things wrong in the world, destiny’s keeper
kept choosing to torture an insignificant life form such as herself.

Soland waited by a large oak while Kyndall approached Garland. The Troll
wasn’t happy about his nightly tutoring being known. But she quickly
calmed him and began their studies. Soland found it strange that Kyndall
offered such a service at all. Not that she didn’t have a kind heart,
but it seldom showed itself if she thought pain would result from having
done so. He understood the reasons why she feared relationships. But how
did he break the damaging cycle of the friendless, loveless existence
she perpetuated? Clearly she wanted friends and wanted to be closer to
him, but only to the point where she could control the outcome. What
would finally make her open her heart and unconditionally risk loving?

* * * * *

It was almost dawn when they made their way back to the castle. Soland
was about to open the door for her when she placed her hand on his arm.

“Why did you confront Lore and me tonight if you knew that I had been
meeting him for some time?”

How could he explain his fears in a way she’d understand? “I guess my
outing with Autumn caused it. Our trip into town got me to thinking
about how my daughter would be protected if anything ever went wrong and
outsiders discovered the Order.” He wouldn’t mention his confrontation
with one of the poachers. It had only amounted to an angry exchange of
words, but his fear for his daughter and their future in general grew
because of the incident.

“That’s your Sorceress’ job, isn’t it? To keep you all safe?” Kyndall
sarcastically asked.

“She isn’t omnipotent, Kyndall. And…I guess I was thinking…”

“Go on,” Kyndall urged.

“I couldn’t imagine Autumn being treated the way you were as a child.”
He watched her face lower after mentioning his knowledge of her past,
but he had to continue. “Some outsiders don’t love their children enough
or at all. They care too little for the world around them and their
impact upon it. Only their immediate pleasure and gratification seems to
mean anything. It scares me to death that people like that might one day
get their hands on our young ones. And I guess it makes it harder for me
to deal with because my child is a girl.”

“That’s chauvinistic,” Kyndall softly replied, and quickly stuffed away
any feelings of empathy.

“I can’t help it. It’s a father thing. She’s such a sweet little girl.
Trusting in every way. Perhaps I should raise her to be more suspicious
and cynical of the world. But I look into her little eyes and can’t seem
to find the resources it would take to teach such things. I only want
her to know love, understanding and compassion so she can share those
qualities with others. But there are people in this world incapable of
retaining those characteristics within themselves. I feel lost about
what to do. My choices are to teach her to be realistic, see the world
for the dangerous place it sometimes is and take away her innocence, or
let her believe everyone will always love and care about her and that
she’ll always have a safe magical place in which to live when that might
not be the case. Too much of either side is unbalanced. And the world is
a much more complicated place than when I was her age. So much has changed.”

Kyndall had never known her father. But she couldn’t have wished for one
with more love for his daughter than Soland. She quickly stuffed down
the desire to give him credit for anything. Not when keeping anger or
cynicism within her could stave off the risk of being hurt again.

“I-I don’t know what to tell you. I guess I fall into the category of
not believing in anything but myself. I’m one of those cynical, unhappy
people.” When he didn’t answer, she knew he agreed. It was perplexing,
even with his assertions that she had a good heart, that he would let
her near Autumn. If she were a parent, there was no way her child would
be allowed near someone such as herself. And that’s why she’d long ago
decided that she’d never be a parent.

“It’s time we go inside. It’ll be light soon and I need to get ready for
work.”

Kyndall nodded and silently walked beside him, parting company when they
reached their separate rooms.

 

Before he left for work later that morning, Soland decided to speak with
the Sorceress. Her advice might help him. At times, Kyndall would almost
open up, then quickly close the doors again. There had to be some way,
perhaps something known to a woman, that he could use to get her to quit
giving up on herself and life.

When he knocked on the door to the downstairs parlor, it was opened by
one of the Sorceress’ staff. It took a few moments for permission to be
granted, but he was finally allowed to see Shayla.

“You look like a man with a heavy question on his mind,” Shayla
commented as he approached the desk where she worked.

When she motioned for him to take a seat, Soland nodded and did so.
“Help me with Kyndall.”

The blunt request brought a smile to her face. “What seems to be the
problem today?”

“Same as it was yesterday and the day before. I don’t know how to reach
someone like her. How to get past her defenses.”

Shayla took a sip of her ever-present herbal tea before answering,
offered Soland a cup and was refused with an impatient wave of his hand.
“You seem to think what took a lifetime to grind into her can be undone
overnight, Soland. I told you before. It will take a great deal of
patience to overcome her fears.”

“It also takes some cooperation on her part. How do I get her to take
the first step?”

“Keep at it. Like everyone else who’s ever attempted to help her, she’s
waiting for you to give up. Don’t.”

“I know that tactic. Don’t let her believe I’m like all the rest. That
she isn’t important enough to pursue.” He leaned forward in his chair.
“But her heart is so badly broken, at times I don’t think she’ll ever
risk having it hurt again. Without taking that risk, how can she love?”

“Do you want her to? Do you love her?”

He stood and turned away. Since the question was put to him, it was time
to voice what he knew in his heart to be true. “Yes. Yes, I love her
very much.”

“Why?”

“I’ve been with her in quiet moments. When her guard is down and it’s
just her and me. It seems like there’s this little child within her,
begging for someone to give a damn. And I’ve seen her with Autumn. The
childhood that was denied her comes out then. And that’s the time I’ve
seen her smile.” He closed his eyes remembering. “It’s like seeing the
sun come out after a bad storm. Like watching the first flowers of
spring bloom, or moonlight as it sparkles on dew.”

Shayla grinned. “For a man who’s professing not to know how to reach a
woman, you’re certainly eloquent enough with me. Have you said these
things to her?”

Soland turned to face the Sorceress. “I’m afraid she’ll run so far that
I’ll never find her.”

“It’s been my considerable experience that women don’t run from a Satyr
making his intentions known.” She boldly glanced over his massively,
muscular frame. “Since what was done to Kyndall in no way approached
being fair, I suggest you use the same tactics to capture her heart. And
remember, be patient. Keep after her. She’ll only run as far as it takes
for you to catch up.”

He smiled and nodded. “Then I’ll chase her to the edge of the universe
if that’s what it takes.”

* * * * *

Trying to keep her activities secret was pointless. Kyndall finally
realized that when everyone seemed to know about her meetings with
Garland. That being the case, there was no sense in creeping about in
the early morning hours to visit him anymore. After dinner each evening,
she made her way into the forest and continued to teach the Troll to
read. He, in turn, told her about many inhabitants of the Order.
Confused as to why they wouldn’t show themselves to her in their real
forms, she finally asked the Troll to do so again. Reacquainting herself
with his greenish face, pointed ears and sharp teeth kept her from
asking anyone else to shape shift for her. Gradually, it wasn’t nearly
so frightening. Especially since Garland was really more bark than bite.
Much like herself.

Returning to the castle each evening, Kyndall entered her room to find a
single rose on the pillow of her bed. Each time, the flower was a
different color. Each time, there was a note attached from Soland. The
notes were short but personal. Sometimes they’d read simply “/missing
you”/ or “/remember how close we were?” /At other times, the note would
tell her the name of the rose and he’d describe how it reminded him of
her. Even as these small attempts to capture her attention warmed her
heart, she still tried to keep her distance from him and little Autumn.
But the child, especially, seemed intent on seeking her out. Late one
night when the weather was beginning to warm up, Autumn found Kyndall
sitting in the garden by herself.

“Hello, Kyndall,” she said and sat on the bench next to Kyndall.

“What are you doing out here, honey? Does your dad know where you are?”

“Uh-huh. He says he’ll come out soon. But he was really hungry and
wanted to eat first.”

The reference to eating made her a bit uncomfortable. She remembered
those few meals Soland and she had shared in her room. The closeness and
the very personal touching. But all that was over. Everything about
Dunnemore was coming to an end. She wasn’t magic, he wasn’t what could
be considered completely human, Lady Anna didn’t need her, and it was
getting close to the time she should be moving on. Why she hadn’t done
so already was a question that she kept asking herself. She was only
using her promise to Garland as an excuse to postpone the inevitable.

Not wanting to leave the girl unattended, Kyndall sighed in resignation.
“As soon as he gets here, I need to be going inside and getting ready
for bed. Then I’ll leave the garden to you and your father.”

Autumn stood up on the top of the bench so her face was next to
Kyndall’s. “How come you don’t play with me anymore, or take me into the
village?”

Kyndall paused to think. How could she explain that it was better to
break the bond that had formed between them? It was going to hurt to
know she’d never see the little girl again. It was her own fault for
letting things between them grow.

“Answer her, Kyndall.”

She stood up to see Soland walking slowly toward her. Autumn hopped off
the bench, ran to her father and kissed him when he lifted her up. He
murmured something to her, put her back down and the little girl ran
back to the parlor entrance. One of Shayla’s staff waited to take her by
the hand and off to bed.

When he was sure the girl had gone off safely with her caretaker, Soland
turned all his attention to Kyndall. “Now you can answer my daughter’s
question for me. Why have you been avoiding us? And don’t say it’s
because we’re Satyrs. I won’t buy it. You’ve known worse monsters in
your life than we could ever be. I want a straight answer.”

That part about the monsters was entirely true. But she chose to remain
silent and let him think whatever he would.

He took a deep breath and tried again. “Have you liked the roses?”

“They’re beautiful. I never knew there were so many kinds. But I haven’t
seen any of them in the gardens yet.”

“They came from the greenhouses on our land at Glen Rowan, not far from
here. I’ve been borrowing from our nursery stock there to get some herbs
planted in the forest.”

“Garland tells me you use a lot of herbs for medicines and things.” She
tried to keep the conversation away from personal matters.

Realizing she was doing just that, Soland sat on the bench next to her
and guided the subject matter back to the two of them. “We have a lot of
herbs that can be used to induce romantic, intimate feelings between men
and women. But they’re never used without both parties agreeing to do so.”

She swallowed hard. “Shayla says your work is nearly done.”

“Yes, it’ll be finished soon. Many of our people want to build cottages,
start summer gardens, handfast and begin their families in this new
place. When the incentive is high, work goes fast. And this huge forest
will give them room to spread out and roam more safely. Handfasting is a
word we use for marriage, by the way. You should see some of the
ceremonies. They’re quite festive, Kyndall. You’d enjoy it.”

“I don’t have any intention of watching some fairytale creatures marry.”

“Why not? There’s dancing, food, wine and the storytellers keep people
amused into the night. The Pixies come out and dust the flowers with
glamour until they glow in the dark. Everything sparkles like diamonds.
People are laughing, old friends reunite from distant places. Children
are allowed to play around our fires and everyone wears their very
finest clothes. Fairies change from human form and you can watch their
wings shimmer. No two of them are ever alike. Wouldn’t you like to see
such things? Even to me, it’s a wondrous sight.” He watched as her eyes
lit from within. Without her realizing, Kyndall’s slender body leaned
forward in anticipation. She actually seemed to hang on his every word.
As he finished, however, her gaze dropped and she moved a little farther
away.

“That’s not for me. I’d just as soon not know too much more about your
Order. Garland has answered the questions I’ve had.”

Knowing she was making excuses to exclude herself, he persisted. “Then
maybe you’d like to go to Glen Rowan and watch the children playing in
the Goblin Meadow. I’ve promised to take Autumn when my work allows it.
They’re really adorable. All of them go romping in the late afternoon as
the sun sets and their laughter is contagious. They make chains of
flowers, sing songs and play all kinds of games. Sometimes the adults
join them.” Again, Kyndall’s face took on a yearning expression that
almost broke his heart. But she tossed her long hair back and looked
away when he finished.

“I’m sure the last thing parents want is a stranger near their children.
Especially someone from the outside world.” /With my history/, she
silently added.

“You’d be all right with me. They’d accept you.”

“No thanks.”

“I miss being with you. Haven’t you been reading my notes?”

She tried to gather her thoughts before answering. “I’m sure you could
find a better use of your time than to keep leaving me messages and
gifts, Soland. It was a mistake for us to get involved in the first place.”

“I disagree.” He put his hand on her shoulder. “We were good together,
and we enjoyed it.”

“That was then, this is now.”

He slowly shook his head and grasped a small strand of her hair with his
fingers. It was as soft as swan down. “You’re not driving me away,
Kyndall. No matter what you say or do. I won’t go. I’ve told you this
before.”

His low, soft voice was so reassuring. For a second, she wanted to
believe in him. But only for a second. People had promised things
before. “What if I want to be left alone? Did you ever stop to think
about that? Or is your Satyr’s ego as big as the rest of you?”

He was prepared for her to say hurtful things. That was one way to keep
someone from getting closer. If she were any other woman, he would have
got up and walked off. But Kyndall’s words didn’t jive with the look in
her eyes, or the way her slender fingers clenched into the palms of her
hands. It was as though she was trying to convince herself she wanted
him gone.

“Do you hate me, Kyndall? Is my being a Satyr so abhorrent?”

She lowered her head. “I-I don’t hate you. And I guess you can’t help
what you are.”

He lifted her chin up with a light touch of his fingers then reluctantly
broke the contact. “Are you frightened of me as a man?”

“No.”

“Are you still angry because I didn’t tell you about myself and the
Order sooner? I thought we were past all that.”

“I don’t belong here,” she replied. It sounded a little desperate even
to her own ears.

“You belong anywhere you want to be.” When he saw the telltale tremor of
her bottom lip, Soland wanted to pick her up in his arms and hold her
all night. She was trying to act so tough when her soul was so fragile.
“Let’s not argue, /annwyl/. We can sit here and watch the stars come
out. Surely you can’t object to that.”

“I should go inside. I’m a little tired.”

“Then I’ll walk you to your room.”

Kyndall’s frustration grew when her attempts to get rid of him didn’t
work. At the same time, something in her wanted to be near him. “Why
don’t you give up whatever it is you’re trying to do? I’m not worth it.”

That made him angry. “You damned well are! And I won’t give up because
you mean too much to me. I’ll say it again, as many times as it takes
for you to understand. I won’t give up on you. I can’t. When we were up
in your room and talking like old friends, there was a comfortable, warm
feeling that I want back. It was real and precious to me. You felt it
too. I know you did. And when we touched, there was a passion between us
that’s exceptional and exciting. You and I could light the night on
fire, Kyndall. You know it.”

His gaze captured hers and she felt that heat go through her entire
body. It had been better than good. The touching, holding and caresses
had been glorious. And for that brief time, she’d wanted to believe it
could work. That someone could really care for her. But memories of
where she came from intruded. No one could want that kind of trouble in
their lives. No matter what he said, that’s what she’d be to him
eventually. Soland would get frustrated with her mood swings or her
argumentative attitude with others. He’d be disappointed with her lack
of conversational skills, then embarrassed by her limited education or
manners. She’d seen enough to know his knowledge of such things as well
as his general intelligence far exceeded her own. Finally, he’d come to
hate her. And that she couldn’t take.

“You can have the garden to yourself. I’m going upstairs now.” When he
stood up with her, she adamantly shook her head. “No. I want to be by
myself. Just leave me alone.”

Soland watched her go. “Let me love you,” he whispered to the night air.

He slowly sat back down and stared into the sky. There had to be a way
to get through to her. It could take a very long time and he wondered if
his heart could be patient enough. Perhaps the damage done by those from
her past was too great. But the Sorceress’ words came back to him. He
couldn’t give up. Later, as he got up to go inside for the evening, dead
leaves blew around the bench where he and Kyndall had been sitting. Wind
chimes hanging from a nearby branch chimed, soft and pleasing. But his
mind was too preoccupied to notice the sound or the way the warm breeze
had changed directions so inexplicably.

/“Nothing worth having ever came easily, my love. My /annwyl/. Keep a
steady heart. You don’t know how close you are. Tonight, you’ll know how
she really feels.”/

* * * * *

The breeze picked up as low, rumbling thunder echoed in the distance.
Small drops of rain fell to the Earth. In a tavern some miles away, Ed,
Frank and Donald Gipson ordered their fourth round of drinks. They sat
at a table near the bar but stopped laughing and joking when a very tall
man with long black hair entered the room. None of the brothers had seen
the stranger before. He was dressed in black leather and looked as
though he could take on an armed militia by himself. And when the
leather-clad giant sat near them, ordered a double whiskey and drank it
down without the smallest flinch, Ed got up and approached. He admired a
good drinker.

“That’s good Irish whiskey you’re swillin’ down like water. Must be a
lot on a man’s mind to make ’im drink like that.”

“There is,” came the stranger’s response. “I damned near killed myself
trying to avoid a herd of deer on the road. What with the dark and the
rain coming on, I couldn’t see the bloody bastards until I was right up
on them. As it is, I did major damage to my car trying to stop in time.
I ended up in a ditch and had to get a tow into town.”

Ed motioned for the bartender to bring the stranger another whiskey.
“You say there was some deer ’ere about on the road? Wouldn’t mind
lettin’ us know where so we could avoid ’ittin ’em ourselves, would you?
My brothers and me will be on our way back ’ome soon.”

The stranger picked up the free drink, nodded a thanks to his benefactor
and tossed the whiskey down his throat. “I’m not that familiar with this
area. But there was an advertisement on a sign a few minutes before I
saw the deer. I think it said Lyndon-something. I don’t know. It was too
dark for me to see it well.”

“Lyndondorn,” Ed supplied. “That’ll be a large farm just east of ’ere.”

The large man nodded. “That’s the place. Never saw so many deer on the
road all at once. Must have been twenty of them. The friggin’ things
just stood there like they owned the entire damned road. Someone’s going
to get killed if they stay there.”

“You’re lucky, friend.”

“Yeah, tell it to the mechanic who has to fix my car, and my wallet when
he’s through.”

Ed finished of his own drink “’Ow will you get around?”

“I’ve got a friend who’s picking me up. Otherwise, I’d be stranded in
this place overnight. Bloody nuisance, that’s what it is.” The stranger
stood, pulled the collar up on his jacket and made his way to the door
without acknowledging Ed’s presence again.

Ed neither asked nor cared where the man went. He was interested in the
deer. Fresh venison would fetch a high price among people he knew. He
walked back to the table where his brothers sat. They drank yet another
round then walked out of the tavern.

Down the street, Lore sat behind the wheel of a large black sedan. When
the Gipson brothers came into view, he turned to the man sitting next to
him. “They bought it?”

“They’ll be there, I’m sure of it. I’d give my back teeth to see how
those idiots reacted to who I really am.”

Lore grinned at the Goblin leader, who was still in his human form.
“You’ll get your chance to find out tonight, Tearach. They’re about to
meet a few members of the Order. Stuff of their worst nightmares,” Lore
muttered. Tearach didn’t respond, and Lore knew he was focusing on the
job ahead.

* * * * *

Kyndall was towel-drying her hair when a soft rap sounded on the door.
She was surprised to see Lady Anna standing there. Usually, the older
woman was in bed much earlier.

“Can I come in?” Anna quietly asked.

Kyndall stood to one side and let the older woman enter. She closed the
door and turned to hear what the woman would say. Their conversations
had been limited to what Kyndall would allow. Civil, short remarks about
the weather or very general subjects.

Anna clasped her hands in front of her and sat in a large, overstuffed
chair by the window. “You’ve been keeping quite to yourself lately. I
was wondering if anything was wrong between us.”

“I won’t mince words with you, Lady Anna. You knew all about the Order,
never said a word to me and told anyone who’d listen about my past. In
particular, Shayla Gallagher. How do you think all that makes me feel? I
trusted you. I don’t go gossiping about your business.”

“Come sit here,” Anna said and nodded toward the chair opposite where
she was sitting. When Kyndall was seated, she began. “I’m going to tell
you a story of what happened to me in my youth and I want you to listen,
my girl. Because I know it must have crossed your mind, dozens of times,
why I chose you to be my assistant when there were many more qualified
people who applied for the position.”

Kyndall reluctantly nodded. “It occurred to me. I didn’t ask because I
wasn’t sure I wanted to hear the answer. All I knew was that I was
damned lucky. At least, that’s what I thought at the time.”

“It wasn’t luck, Kyndall. It was fate. I’d interviewed dozens and dozens
of young women from all over Europe and the United States. I’d been
searching for a very long time. Then I saw your resume and all the
things about your past you openly admitted. I was quite intrigued. And
when you walked into the room, I knew you were the one I’d been
searching for. My instincts told me so.”

“You wanted a former prison inmate with a police history as long as your
leg?” Kyndall crossed her arms over her chest and waited for an explanation.

“That isn’t who you really are, girl. But if you think that way, that’s
all you’ll ever be.” She paused for a moment. “May I continue?”

Momentarily put in her place, Kyndall nodded and closed her mouth.

“I wasn’t just searching for an assistant. I was looking for someone to
/succeed/ me.” Noting Kyndall’s audible gasp and gaping mouth, Anna
continued. “A long time ago, I made a terrible mistake. It was my
misfortune to fall in love with a man who, as it turned out, was engaged
to a very highly placed debutante. Of course, I didn’t know that at the
time. I was much younger than he and believed every damned thing the
bastard said. Our affair was short-lived after he found out I was
pregnant. Back then, such a thing was unheard of. The scandal would have
ruined my family. Thinking there was only one way out of the
predicament, I sought out a back-alley doctor who performed an abortion.
Of course the man was a butcher and I was left barren. I never married
because I knew I couldn’t produce the heir any husband would want for
this estate and I’d never risk having a suitor find out why I couldn’t
bear a child. Gossip among society people is every bit as nasty as it is
anywhere else. Especially back in those days. So I spent my years alone,
agonizing over my decisions. My family died off and there I was. Alone
with no children. I thought of adoption, but I was much older by then. I
knew nothing of raising children or teaching one to become an heir to a
vast fortune. It seemed likely that the government would get everything
I had, including all my family’s history and mementos that spanned
centuries.” She stopped, clasped her hands together in her lap then
finally continued.

“I considered different charitable organizations, but my investigations
proved they were less charitable than I cared for. I just wanted someone
to love this place the way I always had. Finally, my health began to fail.”

Kyndall’s resolve to be angry melted. She took the older woman’s hand
and held it tight.

Anna smiled at her then continued with her explanation of events at
Dunnemore. “I remembered, as a child, there was a particular incident
that always stayed with me. In my youth, I thought I must have imagined
the entire event. As I got older, however, I knew what had occurred
wasn’t my imagination or some dream. It’s funny how much better some
things are recalled with age.”

“What are you talking about?” Kyndall softly asked.

“I was a little girl, playing by a brook. I loved to sit for a long time
and stare into the water. My brothers had been killed in the war and I
was all alone in a world of adults. I spent hours by that brook. Then
one day a very strange thing happened. Some people I hadn’t seen before
were sitting by the water when I arrived. Thinking there were
trespassers on our property, I was about to find a groundskeeper when
one of them stopped me. They told me they were Fairies and that, if I
let them be, they’d let me see their wings.” She smiled as the memories
flooded through her. “Of course, what young girl could resist such an
offer? I was never afraid of them. I was never hurt or inappropriately
approached in any way. And when they showed me their true forms for the
first time, I thought the angels had come down to Earth and given me a
gift of wonder and beauty. There was nothing I’ve ever seen like it or
since.” She stopped for a moment.

Kyndall patiently waited for the rest of the story and could only
imagine what she’d have done had she been in Lady Anna’s place.

“One day, they didn’t come anymore. I was devastated. I went back every
afternoon for an entire summer. But the Fairies were gone. And as I’d
promised them, I never told another soul about the incident. Of course,
no one would have believed me anyway. And time passed.”

Kyndall leaned forward. “You began to believe it wasn’t real?”

“Yes, unfortunately. I did. Then grown-up worries took from me all those
wonderful memories. It was only much later, many years in fact, that I
recalled the friendship I’d struck up with the Fairies. And I began to
wonder where they’d come from. How did they exist? It was then that I
started keeping an eye on my neighbors next door. I became close friends
with Shayla Gallagher and sensed there was something about her that was
as different as the night sky is from the dawn. I kept track of her
whereabouts and that of some of her people. Oh, she hid her activities
very well, to be sure. No one else would ever suspect who the woman was.
But I had cause to believe my childhood friends originated from Glen
Rowan. They may have even told me at some point and I’d forgotten they’d
done so. But everything about Shayla and some of her employees led me to
suspect some fishy business was going on next door.”

Entranced by the entire story, Kyndall leaned forward to hear more.
“What did you do?” she whispered.

“Bold as brass, I finally confronted Shayla and asked her straight out
if there weren’t Fairies living on the Earl of Glen Rowan’s property and
if she wasn’t protecting them. I told her that if she’d come right out,
admit it and let me see them again, I’d let her have this property to
make sure they and all their kind were protected forever. Well, you can
imagine my amazement when Shayla admitted everything, told me about the
entire Order and produced so many magic creatures that my mind was
boggled. And most wondrous of all, my health problems began to reverse
themselves. Oh, I don’t fool myself that this was some kind of magic on
the Sorceress’ part. More than likely, it was a will to keep living that
brought about my restored health. I had a reason to go on, you see. So
I’ve never been sorry for confronting her or giving the property over to
this cause. You really must see the Fairies and all the others to
believe it, my girl. It’s as wondrous a sight as you’ll ever witness in
your entire life. That such miraculous beings live here and have
befriended me is beyond my wildest hopes.”

“But I don’t understand how I fit in. What could you want with me?”

“After reading your resume and doing a great deal of research into your
life…you, Kyndall, were the granddaughter I should have had should I not
have been so blindly stupid in my younger years. I think I loved you
from the moment I saw you. You were sitting there, interviewing in your
shabby clothes, proud and defiant. I couldn’t help but want you in my
life. Something about you called to me. And you weren’t one of those
perfect, money-hungry little misses I’d had to interview. They annoyed
the bloody hell out of me. I wanted someone to train to take my place
here, care for the magic beings and someone who I could not only live
with but who could stand up to life’s challenges with spirit. That’s
what I see when I look at you, Kyndall. Not the woman you’ve described
yourself as being.”

Kyndall’s eyes quickly filled with tears. She fell to her knees in front
of Lady Anna, buried her head in the older woman’s lap and wept as
though she’d never stop. And Lady Anna held her tightly, just as a
grandmother might, determined to never let go.

* * * * *

Soland had just tucked Autumn in bed and had his hand on his own
doorknob when the Sorceress approached him in the hallway. “It’s time,”
she announced. “The poachers will be dealt with tonight. They’ll never
abuse the Goddess’ bounty again. I presume you still want to be there?”

His fists clenched in anticipation. “Just tell me what you want me to
do.” Finding Kyndall’s attackers and dealing with them was something
he’d been waiting for.

“Some of the Goblins and Fairies are downstairs. You may take whomever
you please, but do the job right. No evidence. Make it clean. I want
them to be stopped, not to suffer. Do you understand, Soland?”

She watched his expression closely. Satyrs could inflict horrors on an
enemy that had many in the Order fearing their rage. Slow to arouse,
their anger tended to linger. She knew he’d seek harsh vengeance against
those who would beat a woman and almost rape her. Especially since that
woman was Kyndall and he loved her. “Take care. Of course you know
they’ll have guns.”

He nodded and entered his room to change clothes. Before they died, the
men who’d brutally attacked Kyndall would know who and what it was that
avenged her. Before they reached whatever afterlife might await them,
they would experience a Satyr’s wrath. There was no wavering over the
fairness of the Sorceress’ command. When the laws of the land wouldn’t
or couldn’t right wrongs done to others, there was other justice in the
world. Just as Lady Anna had said. And this justice would be dispensed
by members of the Order.

*
*

Chapter Thirteen

 

It seemed like forever before Kyndall could regroup and gain back some
of her composure. She pushed her hair back with one hand and looked up
into Lady Anna’s face. “I’m not sure I know what to do now.”

“What do you want to do, Kyndall? The choice is yours. I need you here,
for my sake as much as for Dunnemore. If you really want to go, of
course I won’t stop you. Neither will Shayla. So long as you never
return and never tell anyone about the Order, it can be arranged. But
please do consider all I’ve said.” She gripped Kyndall’s hands hard. “I
found your clothing and personal things packed and waiting in the bottom
of your closet. I know you wanted to leave after finding out all the
secrets that were kept from you and have been waiting for the right time
to do so. Surely you can understand why we behaved the way we did? How
we were trying to give you time to get used to all of this before
telling you about the Order?”

Kyndall nodded. “I-I suppose so. I’m just so confused, Lady Anna.”

“Dear child, I know. After everything you’ve been through, it isn’t easy
for you to trust. Is it?”

Kyndall bristled slightly. “I don’t want anybody feeling sorry for me.”

“I know.” Anna touched her cheek with one hand. “I only told the others
about your past because I wanted them to understand you. It isn’t easy
to get to know you, dear one. You do hate to be cornered by any personal
situation. And that phenomenal man…Soland…he needed to know about you
most of all. He’s to be the caretaker of the estate. It’s him you must
trust. And take my advice, child. Don’t let that wonderful man get away
from you. You’ll be sorry to your dying day if you do. I know the
difference between a man who cares and one who pretends to. He’s the
real thing.”

Kyndall took a deep breath. “Maybe…maybe I’d better talk to him. I was
rude to him this evening. I just want to know everything from now on. I
have to get things straight in my head.” She put her hands to her face
in confusion.

“Well, perhaps when he gets back, you can ask him all the questions in
your heart and settle things. It might seem strange that he isn’t like
us. But there are much worse things that can happen to a woman than to
have a man like that want her, Kyndall. You know this.”

“Where is he?”

Ann didn’t reply for a moment. She decided the truth was the best course
of action from now on. There had been too many secrets to inflict any
more on Kyndall. “He’s gone with some of the Order to Lyndondorn.”

Kyndall drew slightly away from the older woman. The land she spoke of
was close to Dunnemore but had nothing to do with the estate at all.
“Why would he be over there?”

“He’s taking care of some business for the Sorceress.”

Some sixth sense made Kyndall stand up and look down at the older woman.
Maybe it was the way Lady Anna said it or something in her body
language. But it didn’t feel right that Soland had gone to a neighboring
property for Shayla Gallagher. “What /business/, Lady Anna?”

“He’s gone to take care of the poachers, dear.”

“And what do you mean, exactly, by ‘take care of’?”

“They have to be stopped. Since they attacked you, they’ve been on half
the farms in the area taking whatever they want in the dead of night.
Killing pets, shooting at anyone who might stop them, then threatening
more violence if anyone goes to the law. In centuries past, my ancestors
would have been responsible for the safety of those in the area.
Something has to be done before anyone gets killed. And they will kill
someone if this keeps up.”

Her heart began to race. “Lady Anna, this isn’t feudal Great Britain.
You can’t just send people out to take care of someone who breaks the
law the way you would have hundreds of years ago. Shayla can’t either.
What happens if Soland or some of the others get caught by the
constables? He wouldn’t survive in jail. I know. I’ve been there. A man
like him would fight to be free. And if the law didn’t kill him, being
caged certainly would.”

“It’s my understanding that none of them will get caught. Shayla knows
what she’s doing, I’m certain of it. I trust her.”

Kyndall realized Soland did too, or he wouldn’t do something so
foolhardy as to trot off to Lyndondorn to hunt a group of armed men and
leave Autumn to whatever the fates had in store. But it was one thing
for Lady Anna, Soland and the rest of the Order to trust and follow
Shayla’s commands like good soldiers. Quite another for her to feel the
same way. “I’m going to find him.”

She bolted for the walk-in closet and changed into a pair of jeans, high
boots and a wool sweater. Her mind was so preoccupied with finding
Soland and the others that she didn’t hear another person enter the
room. When she emerged from the closet, Shayla stood next to Lady Anna.

“I’m going after those people you sent to the neighbor’s farm and you’d
better pray to God I get there before they do something stupid,” Kyndall
boldly declared.

Shayla clasped her hands in front of her in a careless fashion. “I’m
afraid the only means of transportation is unavailable to you, Kyndall.
My people won’t allow you to leave the property. Soland, Lore and the
others know their business. They’ve been raised to it. Besides, what do
you think you could accomplish?”

Kyndall grabbed a jacket as thunder rolled across the countryside and
rain began to pelt the window in hard drops. “I can damned well keep
them from getting killed, for one thing. In case you’ve forgotten, the
Gipsons and their friends are carrying hunting weapons.” And there were
other ways to Lyndondorn than by car. She left the room, ran down the
staircase and out the front entrance. She knew the way by now. All she
needed was Garland’s cooperation.

“Why didn’t you have someone stop her?” Anna asked as she peered out the
bedroom window to the entrance below and tried see to find Kyndall’s
tall form. It was barely visible through the rain, which was now falling
hard.

“Because she’s going exactly where she needs to be,” Shayla replied and
smiled broadly.

* * * * *

When Kyndall reached the bridge over the ravine, Garland was standing on
the side closest to her. The rain and wind were so heavy she almost had
to shout to be heard. And the noise from the water in the deep ravine
was awesome.

“Garland, I need to get across the bridge.”

“What are you doing out on a night like this, woman? Do you want to get
hurt or drown?” he called out from beneath a heavy, hooded jerkin.

“I know where Soland and the others have gone. Don’t pretend you don’t.
Lady Anna told me everything. Please, Garland, let me pass. I have to
get to Lyndondorn and this is the closest way. Shayla wouldn’t let me
have a car.”

He thought for a moment, looked at the flooded ravine behind him, then
nodded. “Well, I suppose you’ve honored our bargain. And if the
Sorceress hadn’t wanted you to leave, she’d have stopped you. But what
do you think you’re going to do when you get there? What Soland and the
others are doing has to be done, Kyndall. It’s for the best.”

“I’m not going to argue with you.” She pulled the hood of her jacket
around her face and held it there with her hands. The rain stung her
face like nails being driven deep into her skin. “Are you going to let
me pass and honor our deal?”

“All right. But I’m going with you. The forest will be treacherous in
this weather and I don’t want someone pulling my nuts off because you
got hurt. But you do as I say, stay close and let me have your hand.”

Kyndall nodded in agreement and stuck out her hand. When the Troll took
it, she was glad for the warmth of his grip and the companionship.
“Hurry! We have to get there before Soland does something stupid.”

“He’s a Satyr. Goes with the territory,” he quipped.

They trudged forward through the howling wind, daunting blackness and
rain so hard that they stumbled at times. Thick mud sucked at their
feet, but they persevered. Kyndall had no intention of giving up. Her
mind was filled with images of Soland being locked away in some cell and
possibly having someone find out what he was. The powers that be would
probably cut him open and gut him like a fish to find out what made him
tick. Or they’d experiment with him, locking him even further away, and
eventually cause his death through confinement. All kinds of images
raced through her brain, but each scenario told her the result would be
the same. Soland would die. If not at the end of one of the poacher’s
guns, then most certainly in a cold, gray jail cell.

She told herself it was for Autumn’s sake she was doing all this, but
her mind warred with her soul over the real reason.

* * * * *

“What will we tell the Sorceress?” Lore asked as he looked over the
bodies of the men lying at their feet.

As the rain pounded around him, Soland was almost at a loss for words.
He turned to the Fairy leader and finally found his voice. “The truth.”

“And what is the truth? What happened, Soland?”

“I…your guess is as good as mine, old friend.”

Lore gripped his shoulder. “We’d better get back to Dunnemore.”

“I agree. We’ll leave them here. It will look like what it was. An
accident.” But Soland lingered a moment more over the bodies of Ed and
Frank Gipson. The other brother had gotten away with one other poacher.
He worried over what they might say to the authorities, but nothing
could be done about the matter now.

Lore looked down at one of the dead men. “My people will cover every
trace of our having been here. We’ll make better time if we stay in our
true forms.”

Soland nodded, knowing they were stronger, more agile and would move
faster that way. The rain would certainly wash away any trace of their
having been present, even if they hadn’t known how to hide their
presence. And their kind did. There wasn’t a forensic expert in the
world who had found any trace of them so far.

After taking one final look around, he followed Lore and the others away
from Lyndondorn. For the rest of his life, Soland would recall the
events of that night but would never have a real explanation for what
had happened to the poachers. He was as stunned by events as Lore and
the others. They quickly made their way back onto Dunnemore land, though
it took time and effort to do so. Strangely, almost as soon as they set
foot on territory protected by the Sorceress, the wind, rain and noise
that went with it died.

As soon as he felt safe, Soland placed a restraining hand on the Fairy’s
arm and let the others accompanying them walk ahead in silence. “You
don’t think the Sorceress had a hand in this, do you?”

Lore stopped to look at Soland. “Why in the world would she send us
bloody well over there and risk our hides if she could accomplish such a
thing all by herself, from miles away? No. She’s powerful, but not that
strong, boy-o.”

“Have you ever heard, in any of the tales of the Order, of anything like
this happening?”

“No. Never. And I don’t mind telling you, it’s got me wanting to head
back to Ireland for a while. The hand of the Goddess was touching us
tonight and that’s for sure.”

“Or that of the Green Man,” Soland quietly uttered.

“Whatever gods or goddesses were involved, I don’t ever want to see such
a thing again.”

Soland watched the Fairy walk away, took one more look behind him, then
followed. The moon was out, as if the horrifying storm had never
happened. It was shining as brightly as it ever had, illuminating the
landscape around them in a soft, almost benevolent glow. Only the rain
on the ground was evidence to the powerful deluge and wind that had
besieged the area and even the water was quickly soaking into the
ground. By tomorrow, everything would be back to normal. Everything
except his memory of that night.

* * * * *

After the rain stopped and the wind died down, Kyndall and Garland made
excellent time. When Garland suddenly halted in the middle of the trail,
she plowed into the back of him, almost knocking them both off their feet.

“What are you stopping for? We’ve got to keep moving,” she complained.

“There are others on the trail.” Garland held up his hand for her to be
silent.

Kyndall did so until she could see forms moving ahead of them. They
seemed to have the same keen senses as Garland, hailing the Troll as
soon as they were within sight. But it was a somber group that
approached. They spoke little beyond acknowledging Garland’s and her
presence. Then they solemnly walked by.

“Something’s wrong,” Garland muttered. “Very wrong.”

Those walking by them were unfamiliar. Kyndall’s heart seemed to crawl
up into her throat and lodge tightly there. The men and women she saw
were in their true forms. When the clouds flew away and the half-light
of the moon penetrated the trail, it was an eerie sight. But they didn’t
seem to care whether she and Garland were present. Or what she might
think of them.

Some were so brilliantly green that they seemed to glow under the
moonlight. Others were winged. Still others looked as normal as she. But
there was no sign of the one person she came to find.

“Where’s Soland? I’m pretty sure Lore would be with him,” she said as
she stood next to Garland and waited for the slow-moving, ethereal group
to pass.

“They’re all very silent for a party who has just been sent on a hunt.
They usually report to the first guards they see so that word can be
sent back to the Sorceress,” Garland explained.

She didn’t want to comment on the fact that this kind of thing went on
with any regularity. All she cared about was finding a certain Satyr.
“Garland, where is Soland?” Kyndall stepped in front of the Troll and
repeated her question. “Why wasn’t he with the others who passed by? And
why aren’t they talking to us?”

“I’m here, Kyndall.”

She recognized the deep voice immediately. But something about the way
it vibrated in the air was quite different. She hesitated in turning
around, knowing she’d finally see what a real live Satyr would look
like. And she wondered if he’d be dramatically beautiful like the
Fairies, or quite the opposite. The picture little Autumn had drawn slid
into her memory.

Kyndall steeled herself for whatever was behind her. She slowly turned.

“So. Now you know what I look like,” he quietly said and raised one hand
in a gesture that encompassed his own body. “I’m the same man I always
was, Kyndall. Except I look a bit different now. Will you let it
frighten you away?”

She swallowed hard. Glancing to his side, she saw a very tall man with
long, flowing white hair. His eyes slanted slightly and his ears were
pointed. This creature’s skin was blue-green under the moon, his eyes
seemed to glow from within and there was a set of magnificent wings
sprouting from his back. His chest and arms were bare and very muscular.
When he nodded in her direction, something about the simple gesture
reminded her of Lore. When this man spoke, he removed all doubt about
his identity.

After acknowledging Kyndall with a nod, Lore turned to the Troll. “Come
on, Garland. I don’t know why you’re here. But this is something Soland
and Kyndall need to work out for themselves. And I have to get to the
Sorceress as soon as I can. Come with me.”

Without any argument, the Troll nodded at Kyndall then followed the
Fairy Leader back the way he had come.

Kyndall watched them leave. Members of the Order moved through the woods
nearby. But the only reason she knew of them was because Soland seemed
to be watching the dense growth. She could see his face turn to locate
their presence as they passed. And she could see his horns in the
moonlight. They jutted from his forehead, just even with the outer
corner of each eye. And, unlike Autumn’s, they were a full three or four
inches long. He seemed more muscular and heavy. And the moon’s
reflection off the bare skin of his chest and arms seemed a bronze or
copper color. It appeared to change from either of those two shades when
he moved in the moonlight. His eyes glowed like Lore’s, but they were a
bright green and the large pupils seemed to shift from one starry shape
to another. Even from the distance that separated them, she could see
the pupils had many points. It made it look as though his eyes were
filled with green glitter.

“You’re very quiet.” He held out his hand and took a step toward her.
“What were you and Garland doing out on a night like this?”

She backed away and held up one hand, palm toward him, to stop his
forward movement. “D-don’t come any closer.”

“Why? You know I won’t hurt you.”

Despite her fear, she found herself nodding and agreeing with him.
“Yeah, but there’s not exactly a support group for something like this.
Just… Can you give me a minute or two here?”

He stepped back, aware that his presence was made more awesome by the
fact that he had taken off his wet jerkin and had thrown it over one
shoulder when the rain stopped. He could almost see the reflection off
his own skin in her frightened gaze. “I’ll give you all the time you
need, /’m asgre/.”

“What does that word mean?” she asked, more to give herself time to
adjust than anything.

“It means ‘my heart’. And I don’t use it lightly.”

She crossed her arms over her chest, shaking in the presence of his new
form. “I’m way out of my league here.”

“You’re doing just fine. Just keep talking to me and you’ll be all
right,” he quietly coaxed. “Now, why were you and Garland out in the storm?”

“Lady Anna told me what you and the others were going to do.” She paused
and scuffed the toe of her boot into the mud. “I was going to try to
stop you if I could.”

“Why?”

She took a deep breath and pushed her wet hair back with both hands.
“Because I’ve been in jail. I know what it’s like. For someone like you,
it might almost be better if you were dead. You couldn’t survive
something like that. Not being a-a Satyr and all.”

“You’re right. I wouldn’t do well closed within a cage. But no policeman
would ever put his hands on me. I’d die trying to get away first. And
going out tonight was something we had to do.”

Kyndall put her hands behind her back and clenched them so tightly that
she could feel her nails digging into the soft flesh of her palms. She
knew he meant every word. “Did you kill those men? The Gipsons?”

“We were going to. But it turns out that wasn’t necessary.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m very tired, Kyndall. Let’s get out of the forest and back where
it’s warmer.” The night air was growing increasingly cooler, since there
was no cloud cover to contain the Earth’s heat. He began walking and was
glad she didn’t ask any more questions. The night had been confusing
enough without trying to sort things out in the middle of a muddy trail.

When they got to the bridge, Garland was waiting there and motioned for
them to cross. Even the Troll was uncharacteristically silent. Soland
guessed that Lore had told him about the night’s event. He didn’t want
to speak with the Sorceress about what had happened. Lore, of course,
would get to her first. So he hoped his explanation would only be needed
later, to confirm what the Fairy would say. All he really wanted was to
get to his room as soon as possible.

“Are you all right?” Kyndall asked as they neared the castle.

Soland noticed that she stayed a few feet from him, but wasn’t nearly as
upset by his appearance as he’d have expected. “Not really. I just want
to get inside and get warm.”

Something in the way he said it alarmed her. And when they walked into
the foyer of the castle, she got her first good look at him in the
glaring lights of the chandelier that hung overhead. Surprisingly, she
didn’t feel frightened as much as awed. He was really a magnificent
being. Thinking over what he’d said, she had to admit that it was only
his appearance that had changed. And though that change was drastic, the
man she knew was still there. But something seemed very wrong with him.

She followed him up to his room and didn’t think about hesitating when
he entered. Kyndall simply followed him inside and quietly shut the
door. The entire household seemed to be at rest. Just like on any other
night at the same time. But this wasn’t any other night. She watched as
he threw his jerkin over a chair near the stone fireplace. Someone had
started a nice blaze, which warmed the room with its bright glow. He
leaned against the mantle, closed his eyes and sighed loudly. It was
almost as if he was in pain or shock. Kyndall didn’t know which. Without
thinking, she moved toward him and put her hand on one mountainous bicep.

“You’re sick, aren’t you?”

He opened his eyes and gazed down at her. “It’s just that something
happened…I can’t explain it.”

“Tell me,” she whispered.

“We were ready for the poachers. They’d been lured to the Lyndondorn
place when one of our people went into a bar and chatted them up about
finding deer there. We knew they couldn’t resist. So we waited. Sure
enough, they showed up just as we’d planned. They were very drunk and
made enough noise that no deer within five miles would have come near.
Even so, I’d made sure all the animals were gone. I sent them away.”

“Autumn told me you could do that.”

“Yes. And contrary to what you must think of me, Kyndall, I dislike
hurting people as much as I dislike hurting animals. But this had to be
done.” He walked away from the fireplace and stood looking out the window.

Kyndall looked at the expansive, muscular back and wanted to touch him.
That copper-colored skin was almost irresistible. And she wondered if
that was one of the enticing characteristics that gave Satyrs their
mythic reputation for being insatiable lovers. She dragged her mind back
to the conversation and off his exquisite physique.

“The wind and rain started slowly at first,” he slowly continued. “We
waited in the trees for the poachers. But something about that wind… It
wasn’t right. I swear I could sense a /presence/. It was almost as if we
were purposely unable to see what happened. No matter what we tried to
do, Lore, myself and the others couldn’t move. All we could do was hang
onto the trees and boulders to wait out that terrible wind. The rain
hammered down on us like shards of metal. I’ve never felt rain so hard
or been in wind so powerful. We heard shooting. The poachers were
calling out to one another as if something was after them. They cried
out for help over and over. In their fear, they kept firing. I couldn’t
see a thing so I don’t know what was frightening them. Lore was right
next to me and I couldn’t even see /him/. The storm was almost an unholy
thing that took on a life of its own. And after it was over, the
poachers lay there. It looked as though they’d shot each other in their
confusion. But one of the brothers got away with another man from the
village. I think they might have seen me and Lore. At least, I’m pretty
sure they did. But they were so drunk and so frightened that I don’t
know what they’ll say or do when they get into town.”

Kyndall could see the confusion on his face. It was almost as if he was
as frightened as he made the poachers sound. “What exactly happened to
those men, Soland?”

He turned to look at her. “They shot each other, Kyndall. We never had
to lay a hand on them. Something about that storm, or whatever was in
it, frightened them so much that they began to shoot in every direction.
I guess they couldn’t see what they were doing.”

Relieved he hadn’t really killed anyone, another more immediate concern
took over. “But what about those men who saw you?” She felt a rising
sense of panic and began to know what being a member of the Order must
feel like. All his life, Soland and the others had done everything
possible to keep from being discovered. This much she had learned. So
what would happen to him when the Sorceress found out that two men had
got away? Two men who had seen him as she saw him now. Well over six
feet of horned, bronzed, mythical man-beast.

“I don’t think it’ll be much of a problem, really. Like I said, they
were very drunk and the storm was so intense. So unlike anything I’ve
ever known. I swear it was almost like we were being pinned down to keep
us from seeing exactly what was going on with the poachers. Or as if we
were being kept away from the gunfire.”

“Could the Sorceress have done something? Cast some kind of spell or
something? Is she capable of that?”

“I asked Lore that same question, but we both knew the answer. She had
no influence over anything that happened there.” He expelled a long,
slow breath and sat on the edge of the bed. “You were worried about me?”

“Yes. Damn your ass!”

He half-smiled. “Then you believe what I was trying to tell you? That
I’d never hurt or leave you?”

“That’s what I want to think. But it’s hard. I’ve never been through
anything like this before.”

He tilted his head. “Been through what, pretty one?”

She shrugged. “Never been in a relationship before. I don’t know how to
do it and I don’t want to drive you away. I’d rather be dead than care
about someone and have them leave.”

“I’ll say it as many times as it takes. You won’t drive me off, Kyndall.”

She lowered her head. “I drove my mother away. If I could do that, then
why would anyone /else/ have any use for me?”

He quickly stood up, walked toward her and pulled her into his embrace.
“Your mother didn’t deserve you. You didn’t chase her off. She left
because there was no heart beating within her. But that’s not the same
situation as it is with you and me. Just give me a chance. That’s all
I’m asking for.” He gently lifted her chin with one finger. “See, you’re
not really even afraid of the way I look. That must mean something,
Kyndall.”

She frowned. “I only made a big deal out of all this Order stuff and of
you being a Satyr because I knew I was getting too attached. I just
don’t want to get hurt. If I’m alone, then no one can do that.”

“And if you’re alone, you’ll be that way for the rest of your life. And
that’s not for you, Kyndall. You have too much to give. Now, will you
try? Will you let me get inside you and show you what it’s like to love
and be loved? Because I do love you, /annwyl/. Very much.”

Tears clouded her vision. “I-I want that so badly. Lady Anna said I’d be
making a big mistake in letting you go.”

He pushed her hair away from her face. “Is that what changed your mind
about me? About everything you know of the Order? You talked with Lady
Dunnemore?”

“That and you’re the second person today who has said they loved me.”
She bravely tried to hold back a sob. “No one…I’ve never had anyone tell
me…”

He quickly pulled her to him. “/Cara ‘ch/, Kyndall. /Chennych i mewn ‘m
buchedd/, there’s /ddim fr can’t qwna/.”

“What does all that mean?” She sniffed and dabbed at the tears on her
cheeks with her fingertips.

“It means, ‘with you in my life, there’s nothing I can’t do’. And now
I’m going to tell you that you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever
seen. You’re /‘r ’n brydfertha beth/ I’ve /bob amser ‘n weledig/.”

“Can you teach me Welsh? I really like the way it sounds.”

The way she was looking at him made the memory of the terrible storm
dim. All he wanted was time with her alone. But first the Sorceress had
to be dealt with. And as hard as it was to leave the room and her
warmth, that task had to be done.

“You’ll probably be taught any language you’d like. I speak several, as
do many of the other people of the Order. We look upon it as a sort of
survival skill.” He gently pushed her away and sat her on the bed.
“Right now, I want you to wait for me. I have to speak with Shayla. Look
in on Autumn, make sure she’s sleeping. And when I come back, we’ll
really talk. All right?”

“I want to go with you.”

He shook his head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, love. Things
didn’t go the way they were supposed to.”

“I know what it’s like to kill someone, Soland. I thank God you don’t!
Shayla shouldn’t be sending you or anyone to do such things.” She held
up her hands when he opened his mouth to protest. “I know. You’re trying
to survive. I just wish there was a better way. But I still want to be
there when you talk to her.”

“All right,” he relented. “The sooner it’s done, the sooner you and I
get to be alone.” He softly kissed her lips and took her hand. “You’re
really not frightened of me in my real form?”

“If you’re not afraid of me like I am, what right have I got to
complain? Seems like I’m the broom-flying witch everyone has been trying
to deal with around here.” She put her hand on one of his cheeks and
abruptly changed the subject. What he was just didn’t matter anymore. He
said he loved her. As far as she was concerned, he could have been
holding a pitchfork and sporting a hooked tail. The heart that had been
so badly trampled by life was given a taste of something it had never
experienced. For the first time, she actually hoped for more. “I’m so
glad you weren’t hurt.”

There was a depth of sincerity in her gaze that took his breath away.
“Come on. Before I forget my responsibilities.” He pulled her to her
feet and they both went downstairs to look for Shayla.

*
*

Chapter Fourteen

 

“You’ve related the same thing as Lore. You both say you sensed a
presence within this storm,” Shayla remarked as she paced in front of
the large fireplace.

“I don’t know how to explain it any better, Shayla. We were completely
immobilized. I’ve never heard of such a thing happening.”

“Lore was as confused as you seem to be.” Shayla stopped her agitated
movements and stood before him. “How do you feel?”

“A bit tired,” Soland admitted. “It’s as if some of my energy was
drained away. It’s one of the reasons I couldn’t move when the rain and
wind started.”

“The others report they’re feeling the same.” Shayla glanced at Kyndall.
The girl’s gaze was transfixed on Soland. A great wave of concern
emanated from her. Clearly, the evening had brought them very much
closer together.

“I take responsibility for the surviving poachers getting a glimpse of
us. I don’t know what they’ll do or say to the authorities.”

Shayla raised one eyebrow. “Since they were so drunk and committing the
illegal act of poaching at the same time, I shouldn’t think anyone will
believe a single thing they say. It could be that they’ll be too
frightened to say anything at all. But we’ll see what happens tomorrow.
By then, the other men accompanying them will have been reported as
missing and will possibly have been found. Because they weren’t on
Dunnemore or Glen Rowan property, we shouldn’t be involved at all. And
the people at Lyndondorn weren’t in residence. They’ve been gone for
weeks, so no one there will be blamed.”

Kyndall could see how the entire plan was meant to work. Especially when
it was explained exactly how one of Shayla’s people had lured the
Gipsons into hunting at Lyndondorn. Some part of her wanted to feel
sorry for the poachers, but her concern for Soland swept away all other
emotion. How did she show him what was in her heart when there was no
experience to draw upon? More, she was frightened he’d come to regret
the words of love he had only just expressed. Truly, she couldn’t find
much about herself to like, much less love. But she had to try. This was
her one chance. Possibly the best and only one she would ever get.

Shayla lifted a hand in dismissal. “Get some rest, Soland. We’ll deal
with this tomorrow.”

Soland let out a long breath, nodded then took Kyndall’s arm and left
the parlor. He quickly checked on Autumn before retreating to his own room.

Kyndall watched him lovingly push back a stray curl on the little girl’s
forehead. “What will you tell her?”

“About the poachers? Nothing. About us? I think she’ll be very pleased.
She loves you too, you know. When we’re together, all she talks about is
you. She speaks about what the two of you have done, the fun she has.
She’s missed you these past days. I don’t think Autumn understands why
you were staying away from her.”

Kyndall hung her head in guilt. “I’m sorry.” Already, he was displeased
with her. And she felt the same way as she had when her mother found her
small stash of food and cursed at her for hoarding it.

Soland shook his head. “I didn’t mean that as a criticism, my love. You
couldn’t help being frightened or unnerved by something as unusual as a
little girl turning into a Satyr. Autumn will understand when we explain
it to her.” He worried that Kyndall would never be able to take even the
slightest censure. The walls would come right back up again if he
weren’t careful. Shayla was right. This was going to take a great deal
of time. Again, he wanted to find those responsible for this beautiful
woman’s horrors and beat them senseless. But it just wasn’t her mother
to blame. A lot of people had let a little girl’s huge problems slip
through the cracks because what happened to her didn’t really affect them.

Kyndall lifted her head and tried to smile. If she kept her mouth
closed, maybe he wouldn’t be upset with her. That was all she could
think of at the moment.

They quietly left the room. When she would have walked to hers, Soland
grabbed her hand. “I need you with me now. Don’t leave me alone,
Kyndall. Too much has happened tonight. I don’t want to think about what
went on in the forest. But I do want to be with you. Even if it’s just
to talk. Understand?”

She nodded and let her fingers curl around his. His hand was so strong
and capable. And she felt so very inadequate. Maybe Autumn would resent
her presence if it took on more importance in Soland’s life. Little
girls could get jealous. What if that was the cause of trouble? Soland
would naturally choose his daughter’s peace of mind over her. She
certainly wouldn’t blame him if he did.

He led her into his room and closed the door behind them. Kyndall was so
very quiet that it frightened him a bit. Maybe everything that happened
was catching up with her and she was having second thoughts. “What’s on
your mind?”

“I don’t know.”

“Do you want to ask me any questions?”

“Like what?”

“The history of my people? My personal history? Anything.” /Just talk to
me/, he silently begged.

She blurted out one of the first things she could think of just so he
wouldn’t be bored with her presence. And she wished for that peaceful
feeling they’d had before she found out who and what he was. “How does
it feel when you change from being a human to being a Satyr?”

He thought for a moment. “It’s like walking into a bright light. I get
stronger and have more stamina. It’s that way for most of us who can
change our form.”

It would be good to be able to grow wings and fly away from every
trouble in the world. Not to feel so inarticulate at the moment. “Wish I
could,” she muttered under her breath.

“Pardon?”

“Nothing. I was just talking to myself.”

Clearly she wasn’t joking when she said she didn’t know how
relationships worked. For the first time, she appeared completely
confused and ill at ease. Not so much because of what he was, but
because she didn’t want to do something wrong and anger him. Soland’s
heart bled for her. But one thing came to mind. She seemed to have a
weakness for anyone who was defenseless. He remembered the dream he’d
had where Kyndall had taken care of other children like herself.
Children whose own parents were hookers or on drugs. Plus, she cared a
great deal for Autumn. He decided on a different tack, one where she was
in charge.

“Would you help me? I’m really not feeling all that great.”

“I knew it! You were just pretending to be okay, weren’t you? Maybe you
were out in that storm too long and got too cold. There was a real chill
in the air tonight.”

Feeling guilty, Soland knew he wasn’t really anything but tired. But
Kyndall seemed to need someone to nurture. If that’s what it took to
give her some confidence, he wasn’t above using his physical condition
to do so. “If you’ll find something hot to drink, I’ll take a shower. By
then, I might feel better.”

“You’re going right to bed.” She stuck her head out the door and called
out for any of the staff within earshot. Usually there were plenty of
them around and Kyndall really didn’t want to leave him alone. That he
even mentioned not feeling well must mean there was something a great
deal more wrong than Soland would admit. One of the staff hurriedly
walked down the hall when the woman heard Kyndall’s shout for assistance.

He hated deceiving her so. But her response left him feeling that it was
the right thing. As he stood in the shower, he could hear her moving
around the room. She was probably turning down the bed, throwing more
wood on the fire and turning the lights down low. Almost to mock his
deception, a wave of dizziness struck him hard. The weakness he had
after the storm’s demise seemed to increase. Maybe he really /was/ going
to be ill. Minutes later, he walked from the shower tying his bath robe.
He stopped short when Kyndall gasped at his appearance.

“What’s wrong?”

She put her hand on his cheek and shook her head. “Soland, I’m no expert
in what a Satyr is supposed to look like, but you aren’t well.”

Soland looked at himself in the dresser mirror. His complexion had
changed from deep bronze to a kind of off-tan. His skin didn’t glow as
it should. And he leaned against the dresser when another wave of
dizziness struck. This time, it was a bit worse than the first. He felt
her arms go around him.

“Come on, let’s get you to bed.”

“I’ll be all right. That damned storm just seemed to take so much out of
me.”

“I don’t know about all that. You should really get some rest.” She sat
beside him, adjusted the covers around his massive frame then handed him
a mug of herbal tea one of the kitchen staff had brought to the room.

Soland took a sip of the brew and rested against the pillows she fluffed
for him. He passed a hand over his face. “Talk to me.”

“You need to sleep.”

“We’re finally on the verge of getting some things straight between us.
I want to hear what you’ve got to say and what you think, Kyndall. I’ll
rest later.”

Something inside her warmed at his insistence. But she had a feeling the
man wasn’t used to being ill. If something was severely wrong, he
wouldn’t likely admit it. So, she humored him for the time being. Maybe
he’d get tired soon and get the rest he obviously needed. “What do you
want me to talk about?”

“Anything. I just want to hear your voice.”

Her insides turned to mush. It wasn’t so much what he said as the way he
said it. And the needy way he looked at her. She put up a hand and then
quickly dropped it.

He noticed the gesture. “What were you going to do?”

“I-I just wondered what they felt like.” She pointed at his horns.

He smiled. “Go ahead and touch them. They won’t hurt you, you know.”

“I know that,” she primly replied. Then, to prove she wasn’t afraid,
Kyndall lifted her hand and gently touched one of the protruding
appendages with her fingertips. “It’s hard,” she blurted.

He couldn’t help it. Soland burst out laughing. “What did you expect?”

She smiled and felt herself go red. “Sorry, I’ve made less stupid
comments in my life.”

He tried to suppress his laughter. “I thought it was kind of cute.”

“Cute isn’t how I want you to think of me.” She smirked at him.

He sipped some more of his tea. “How would you prefer me to see you?”

She slowly raised and lowered one shoulder. “Smart, independent, sexy.”

He set the mug aside. “Smart and independent are easy. You’ve more than
shown those qualities. As for the sexy part, we were really just
exploring that before all the misunderstanding took place. Weren’t we?”
Soland ran his index finger down her jaw and traced the curve of her
lower lip with the tip of it. Though he was fighting weariness, his
Satyr’s blood still heated. Touching her in such a way was all it took.

“M-maybe you should get some sleep.”

“Stay with me.”

There was no misunderstanding what he meant. His voice was low, sultry.
She swallowed the lump in her throat and her palms seemed to go moist.
“Soland, I’ve never…you know…”

“I know, /’m asgre/. I figured that out long ago. I’ll be the first. And
it will be very good. I swear it.”

She had no doubt about it. But what if he was disappointed in her? There
had been no problem touching each other. She could see his response and
alter her caresses accordingly. Once his body and hers joined, however,
would she be able to give what a man like him would crave? Was there
enough womanly instinct left in her to share that kind of feeling with a
man? Or would memories of her own mother’s behavior intrude on what
should be the most wonderful moment of her life? Would that sordid world
invade her adult life and ruin their pleasure?

As if he could read her mind, Soland cupped her cheek with one hand and
tried to control the outrage he felt about her past. “You’re not like
her, Kyndall. You could never be like that.” In that split second, she
knew exactly what he was talking about. He watched tears form in her
lovely eyes again. Tonight, he’d seen her express more emotion than she
had in the rest of the time he’d known her. It angered him to see her
struggle with doubts left by a heartless whore’s behavior. “Maybe if I
just held you. Like I did before, when you were hurt. Do you remember?
Then, when we’re more used to each other, we’ll see how you feel.” He
could wait for her to talk about her feelings toward him. This was all
new to her, and she’d tell him what she could in her own time.

“I remember,” she softly murmured. Already the spontaneity was gone.
When would such a chance come again? How patient could he be with her?
Kyndall wondered how she could recapture the moment.

Despite the fatigue that currently plagued him, Soland’s body responded
to hers with vivacity. As soon as she pulled off her boots and lay next
to him, there was no way he was going to just sleep. It felt so good to
have her near. That long, lean body, all that straight shining hair and
her rounded breasts were what he had been craving for days. The terrible
events of the night seemed to float away as the dream he had of her in
his arms invaded his thoughts. She turned toward him, adjusted her body
to fit next to his and Soland knew he would go insane if he didn’t have
her. But he couldn’t push it. Kyndall needed a certain amount of time
and space. How he was going to physically keep to himself would prove to
be a monumental problem.

“How are you feeling now?” she softly asked and placed her head against
his shoulder.

/Like I’ll hurt for a week if I can’t get inside you/ was what he wanted
to say. “Still tired, but it’s good to have you near.” She snuggled
closer and it added to his body’s response.

She lifted a hand to stroke his hair back. “I hate that you have to
defend yourself by going after people. I don’t think I want to know if
you’ve ever done it before.”

“I’ve been with others who have. And we did give the poachers every
chance to leave us alone.” He put his arms around her and pulled her
body closer to his body. The woman’s heat was so energizing, yet
soothing as well. There was nothing he wouldn’t do to keep her and
Autumn safe.

“Don’t think about it anymore, Soland. Just try to get some rest. We can
find out more about it in the morning. It’s lucky none of you were hurt.”

That much was certainly true. The gunfire had sprayed in every
direction. If they’d been able to move, doing so might have placed any
one of the Order right in the path of a bullet. Somehow, he didn’t think
it was merely chance that they had escaped injury. That bizarre storm
and the strong presence he sensed within it was instrumental in the
night’s events.

As Kyndall stroked her long fingers down his chest, Soland closed his
eyes and tried to use imagery to sleep. After a time, his efforts
finally paid off and he was in the middle of a sweet dream. In fact, it
was the same dream where he and Kyndall lay in the middle of the forest
on a warm summer day. She was in his arms and other members of the Order
seemed to be enjoying the fine day as well. They lazed about, sang
softly and played with children nearby. The serenity of the entire scene
appealed to his nature. Satyrs loved the outdoors and the warmth of the sun.

Kyndall knew the instant he fell asleep. When she drifted off, it was
almost at the same time as him. And the dream that came to her was one
she felt they shared. Because he had helped her to sleep before and had
exactly described the scene to her, it wasn’t surprising she saw the
same images now. Almost everything was just as it had been before. They
lay sleeping in each other’s arms, enjoying the pure luxury of resting
on a beautiful day. But something changed. In the dream, she opened her
eyes. Soland slept on, but she was wide awake. And she stood up to look
around. Everything in the scene took on a hazy appearance. As if there
was a filter over her vision.

There was a path near their resting place. Part of the path was in the
sun and Kyndall could see a female Satyr approaching. She did so in slow
motion and with superb grace. The sun glistened off tiny white gemstones
sewn to her blue diaphanous gown. The approaching beauty had dark brown
hair and eyes and was very petite. This woman was nothing short of
enchanting. And when she smiled, it brightened the day. Kyndall felt the
wonder of her presence. Her skin was like Autumn’s, only a shade darker
than what was probably normal. But not nearly as copper-colored as
Soland’s. And her horns weren’t nearly so prominent nor her eyes quite
so exotic. As in nature, it seemed the male of that race was more
flamboyant to protect the female’s presence. Just like male cardinals
were more colorful than their female counterparts. Kyndall looked back
down at the man near her feet. He still lay sleeping.

“He won’t awaken,” the Satyr woman told her. “This dream is meant for
you and me to share, Kyndall. His part in it is only to make you feel
more secure.”

Kyndall looked her over. “How do you know my name?” In the dream-state,
her voice sounded strange. It was as if she was speaking from a distance.

“My name is Spring. I was Soland’s mate.”

“I know,” Kyndall nodded as an instant awareness suddenly flooded her.
“But how did I know?”

“It’s the way of dreams,” Spring replied. “You’ll know what’s necessary.
Come, walk with me. Soland will be safe here and will guide you back
into the world of the present when it’s time. But he’ll have no memory
of the experience you and I share. He’ll only remember what he now
perceives. A peaceful, healing sleep. Nothing of my presence will be
known to him at all.”

There was no question that Kyndall would follow the Satyr woman. They
walked only a short distance into the sunshine when Spring turned to her.

“Will you love him with all your heart and be a mother to my child?”

Kyndall spread her hands out in an appeasing gesture. “Yes. But you must
know that, or we wouldn’t be talking together in this dream.”

“I had to hear you say you love them, or all my efforts are for nothing.”

“Of course I love them. But what do you mean by ‘your efforts’?” Kyndall
asked and immediately understood. “You were with him in the forest? You
were the presence he spoke about in the wind?”

Spring nodded. “I’ve been with him since he left our home in Wales. It
was necessary for me to keep him and the other members of the Order
safe. You see, Soland wasn’t meant to survive last night. One of the
poacher’s bullets was to have pierced his heart. Some of those who went
with him weren’t supposed to live either.”

Kyndall shook her head in horror. She felt the blood leave her heart. “No!”

Spring reached out and took one of Kyndall’s hands to comfort her. “It’s
all right. I had to take some of the strength from him and the others to
keep them behind the trees and safe. In doing so, however, I’ve
interfered in the natural order of things. I must forfeit staying in
this plane of existence. It’s for that same reason I couldn’t come to
your aid when the poachers attacked you. If I had, I wouldn’t have been
present when I was needed to save Soland. And I knew you would survive
that attack.” She shrugged. “All of it’s finally over. You’re safe and
it’s time for me to move on anyway. Soland and Autumn have you now. I’m
not needed for them any longer. The Sorceress would surely have sensed
my presence sooner or later. That would certainly have been a cause of
confusion for her.”

“Nothing like this has ever happened, has it?”

“No, Kyndall. This is a special situation. My love for Soland and Autumn
bound me to them. I couldn’t rest until I knew they were safe and that
there would be someone in their lives who would love them with great
determination and spirit. You are that person. I could have searched the
world and wouldn’t have found anyone more perfect.”

“You know about my past.” Kyndall was sure she did. In the way of
dreams, some things seemed to be self-explanatory. “How could I have
been a good choice? Someone in the Order, another Satyr woman, would
have been more appropriate.”

Spring slowly shook her head in denial. “No. You’re the one who can
teach Autumn to live in the world as it is. With all its faults and
frailties. You know what it’s like to be without love. But you’ll show a
great deal of it in the future. And the heart of a warrior beats within
your breast. You haven’t been sheltered by the Sorceress or cloistered
in the world of the Order. It’s a world that will someday crumble. On
that day, Kyndall, it will take men and women from the outside to help
save the Order. In her own way, the Sorceress knows this. But
circumstances keep her from moving as quickly as she should. She can’t
just go into the outside world and pull people into this situation at
random and many more will be needed.” She stepped closer to Kyndall.
“But you are the one I chose for Soland. The very characteristics that
you seem to despise in yourself are the ones that will keep him safe in
the future. Your courage against adversity, your ingenuity and refusal
to be beaten down by circumstances are admirable.”

“I’ve felt lost many times. And afraid.”

“Yes, but you kept going. Even when you were hurt and confused. There
are others who wouldn’t have. No matter what you might have thought of
yourself or the failure to exhibit traits you’ve always wished for, you
kept fighting, Kyndall. And that’s a great quality. But you must tell
Soland that you love him. I know you do, but he has to hear it. Both he
and Autumn. This will be the one thing that’s been hardest for you all
your life…surrendering your heart by saying the words.”

“You seem to expect so much from me. Why does this seem so urgent?”

“You can feel it, can’t you? A sense of great necessity.”

“Is something bad going to happen, Spring? You said Soland was supposed
to die. Have I fallen in love with a man who won’t survive? Because if
he doesn’t, then neither will I.” She could hear the desperation in her
own voice. And she grasped Spring’s hand with both of hers.

“No, Kyndall. I’ve given him the opportunity to live a long, fruitful
life. You must believe me. But whether the life you share is a happy one
depends upon you. You’ll awaken into a new world. A man you love with
all your heart will be sleeping beside you. Granted, he’s different from
anyone you’ve ever known, but you know a wicked person when you see one.
And Soland can never do to you what others have. He isn’t cruel, weak or
abusive. Still, if you want to keep him, you must let him know how much
he’s loved.”

“But Soland told me he’d stay with me. That he wouldn’t be put off by my
past and the things I find so hard to say to anyone.”

“He’ll make a valiant effort, my dear. To put all the giving on him,
however, is unfair. You must do your share, or there’ll come a time when
he truly believes you can’t be happy with him. If that happens, you’ll
begin the pattern of heartache all over. It will be a cycle you won’t
ever be able to stop. And this time, it will be so much worse, because
you had a great chance at real love and let it slip through your
fingers. I know your past makes this hard, but Soland deserves to be
loved with all your soul. Do this and I can promise you a lifetime full
of the kind of joy most people only dream about. Do this and there isn’t
anything the two of you won’t accomplish. Even if the world the
Sorceress has protected comes crumbling down.”

Kyndall gazed into the distance and searched her heart. “What if I get
hurt?” she whispered.

“Sometimes it takes the greatest risk of all to gain the greatest gifts
of all. As I’ve said, you have courage. This is the most courageous step
you’ll take. Risking your heart. Take that first step, Kyndall. Say the
words, mean them, and it will be easier each time you do. I promise,
you’ll never, ever be sorry. Soland won’t let you down. He’ll never hurt
you.”

Kyndall thought for a moment. And she knew that blowing this chance
would be the biggest mistake of her life. Even spending those lonely
years in prison wouldn’t compare to what she’d lose if her failure to
show love drove Soland away.

“I do love him and Autumn. So much,” she murmured.

“Keep saying that, Kyndall. And remember one more thing.”

Kyndall listened to the words Spring recited and put them to memory. It
was important that she do so.

* * * * *

“It’s all right, my sweet. Wake up. I love you too. Shhhh, don’t cry.”

When she woke up, Soland was holding her tight and rocking her. The
choking sensation in her throat told her she must have been crying. And
her vision was blurred with unshed tears. While Kyndall couldn’t
remember what made her weep, she remembered everything important in the
dream. She threw her arms around his broad shoulders. “Oh Soland. Don’t
ever think I don’t love you. Please don’t let a day go by without us
saying it to each other.”

He smiled and brushed back her hair. “Of course I won’t, /’m anwylyd/.
My darling,” he translated. “But hearing it for the first time is very
special to me. And don’t close me out when you’re sad or things from the
past begin to haunt you. Tell me and I’ll help you through it. Just come
to me, wherever I am, and I’ll be here for you.”

She held him as if the embrace could never be broken. “I will. I swear.”

“Somehow, I thought it would take much longer for you to express all
this. What were you dreaming that made this possible? Was it some kind
of nightmare, or something in an ordinary dream that frightened you?”

His gentle hand against her cheek made Kyndall want to stay right there
forever. Just holding each other. She kissed his palm, held it against
her lips with her hand, then turned her mouth away just enough to speak.
“No. Not a nightmare or a dream. It was like a vision.”

He tilted his head in confusion.

She smiled up at him. “It’s already going away. All but the feeling that
I need you so very much.”

He pulled her closer. “That’s all I wanted to hear.”

When he kissed her, Kyndall returned his passion with fervor. He
responded by moaning deeply and pushing her back against the soft
pillows. “Let me love you, Kyndall. I want us to be joined.”

Her hands acted instinctively and pulled his body closer. “Yes, make
love to me.”

He took great care in removing her clothing and caressing her skin as he
did so. Through those moments of intimacy, Kyndall’s eyes seemed to
glow. There was a fire in them that had him aching with need. And when
she lay beneath him, he let her untie his robe and push it off his
shoulders. The lingering feel of her fingertips sent his blood boiling.
She traced small patterns across his back and he closed his eyes when
her hands met at the end of his spine and skimmed over his flanks.

“That’s nice,” he whispered.

“Tell me what to do, Soland. Anything.”

The softly voiced response to his needs had him wanting to plunge into
her without stopping. But he had to take care. “There’s…one
thing…something you should know about Satyrs.” He dragged air into his
lungs. His heart was beating very hard in expectation.

“Whatever it is, it doesn’t matter, my love. I don’t care.”

“No, y-you have to…have to know.” He closed his eyes for a second then
opened them to gaze deeply into hers. Her fingers continued to stroke
his body in a delicious way. His hips thrust forward, involuntarily, as
her touch lingered at the base of his spine. “While making love in my
true form, I can’t uncouple from you until you’re pleasured.”

Kyndall smiled wickedly. “You mean you have to keep going until I climax?”

“I thought you might like that, you little fireball. But it makes it
impossible for you to say you’ve climaxed unless you really have. So
there’s no lying about it. I’ll certainly know. I’ll only release when
you do.”

“Now that’s a real bonus!” She softly laughed. “I think I’m gonna like
this.”

“That’s one of the reasons we have the reputation we do for satisfying
lustful women. Why they chase after us.”

“No one is chasing you anymore. You’re not up for grabs.”

He placed tiny kisses over her face and throat. “Good. I want you
wanting me. Only you. And I want you crying my name out when we finish.”

Kyndall’s breath left her body when he suddenly pulled her into a
sitting position and held her close. She wasn’t sure what was coming but
knew it was going to be good. Her body was ready and waiting. And
judging by the enormous erection against her abdomen, it would be
something she was never going to forget.

“Hurry, Soland. Please,” she begged and closed her eyes in anticipation.

“Look at me. I want those beautiful eyes on me. I want to see your
expression.”

She opened her eyes and placed her hands on either side of his face. The
kiss they shared fired off every nerve in her body. And when he drew
slightly back, Kyndall lifted her lips to kiss the base of each of his
horns.

Soland emitted a deep, predatory growl. It was driven by extreme
pleasure. “Now, Kyndall. No man but me will ever touch you.”

She nodded and kept her gaze locked with his.

Soland placed his hands around her narrow waist, lifted her then gently
lowered her onto his erection. He tried to control his passion by
breathing deeply. When he felt her tight body give way and saw the
momentary pain in her eyes, he stopped. Then she smiled bewitchingly.

Her head dropped straight back and a satisfying moan tore from her
throat. Kyndall had never felt anything so perfect in her entire life.
When she brought her gaze back to his, a deep, wonderful pressure filled
her. Sitting the way they were, his body rubbed her where they were
joined and increased the pleasure immensely. Her hands looped around his
shoulders and her breasts tingled where they touched his massive pectorals.

“Ohhhh Soland.”

“There’s /hud i mewn ’ch chreuau, ’m asgre/,” he softly responded to her
uncontrolled desire. “There’s magic in your eyes.”

“More,” she gasped and moved with his upward thrusts.

“I love you more than anything on Earth. /Un anad ddim acha briddo/.”

His gentle, slow thrusts took on an urgency he couldn’t deny. Soon they
were both clinging to each other as their bodies took them to a place
outside themselves. A place reached only by the most intense lovemaking.
Then Soland heard her cry out his name. As she did so, he pulled her
against his body and clenched his teeth with the pure magnificence of it
all. His release seemed to go on for a long time. But hers was just as
wondrous and satisfying. He could feel it.

He held her perspiring body against his. When she turned her face into
his shoulder, panting, Soland knew it would take awhile for her to
recover. “You see, sweet one. That’s the way it will always be.”

She raised her face and let him kiss her slowly and deeply. Then she
leaned slightly away from him and put her hand over her heart.

“Where am I?”

Soland was stunned. He knew what she was doing, but it was his family’s
tradition. How could she know about it? “Did Autumn show you that?”

“No. Where am I?” she softly repeated.

He placed his hand over his heart. “Inside here. And where am I?”

“Inside here,” she said as she kept her hand on her breast. “And where
are we?”

They joined their palms and spoke as one. “Always together.”

Soland roughly pulled her to him, closed his eyes and knew the deepest
love any being could possibly feel. He held her, speaking of the future
and their dreams, until the sun came up.

“I want children, Soland. Lots of them so they aren’t ever lonely.”

He smiled down at her and caressed her back. “Something made me think
you wouldn’t.”

“At one time, I didn’t. But I don’t think the same way now. I want a
home with you. And lots of love.” She cuddled him close as he leaned
into her shoulder and kissed her neck.

“You don’t know how happy that makes me, /’m asgre/. But are you going
to tell me how you know about the heart pledge? It’s something only my
family has ever spoken. If Autumn didn’t show it to you, then how do you
know it?”

She kissed his jaw, lifted his hair and let the thick, brown waves fall
back to his shoulders. “Let’s just say I dreamed it. It’s something from
my heart to yours.”

He stared down into her face, searching it for a moment. “That’s all
that matters. I love you, Kyndall.”

Kyndall chewed on her lower lip for a moment and concentrated hard.
“/Cara ’ch/, Soland.” She paused and noted his surprised expression.
“Did I say it right?”

“Perfect,” he murmured against her lips. “Absolutely perfect.”

* * * * *

Soland waited impatiently at the end of the Grecian garden for his mate.
At least, she would be his mate as soon as Kyndall made an appearance.
The Sorceress was waiting to handfast them and he’d reserved one of the
groups of columns for this night. Long tendrils of English ivy and white
roses wound around the columns, which would shelter them from prying
eyes for the night. Midsummer’s Eve. It was a very special time and his
powers were at their peak. His love would come to know many things about
how the men of his race got their lusty reputation. There were
lovemaking secrets all his own that he’d saved for this special
occasion. Soon he could hear the sound of pan pipes being played by some
of his Satyr brethren. And his heart began to pound as Kyndall appeared
at the far end of the garden. The stars shone down. She was dressed in a
white gown, her hair drifting in the warm summer breeze. Even from a
distance, he could see lights from candles and Fairy lanterns shimmering
in the straight red-brown strands. Before her, Autumn walked and threw
flower petals in the air. The little girl smiled as though her heart was
as happy as it could possibly be. His daughter would now have a mother
and he’d have a mate again. Somehow, he knew Spring would have approved
of everything. It didn’t hurt to remember one lost love while awaiting a
new one.

When she gave him her hand and the Sorceress bound their wrists together
with a silver cord, their lives became one, as was the custom of the
Order. Lady Dunnemore took Autumn away to play with the other children
while Soland led Kyndall to their flower-enclosed bower. There, they
would make love and watch the stars glittering in the sky like so many
diamonds. With a wave of Soland’s hand, the vines of ivy and roses
parted so that he and Kyndall could walk within their bower. The smile
she gave him was one filled with complete trust and love.

Shayla watched them begin their life as one. In the past months, their
love had grown so that the strongest forces on Earth couldn’t separate
the two beings. And she looked around at the marvelous things Soland’s
work had wrought. The garden was as mystical a place as ever existed.
Who would have thought the overgrown columns had once been celestial
observatories of sorts? Whatever activities might have taken place there
in the distant past, members of the Order would now gather there in
peace. This land was one with them again. The entire forest was in
perfect condition. Such was the ability of the Satyrs.

Later she smiled as she watched Lady Dunnemore sit with some elderly
members of the Order and flirt prettily with an older Fairy man who had
amorous intentions. Several of the older members of the Order had made
it known that Lady Dunnemore was indeed still a woman to pursue. And in
truth she was. The former owner of the estate had never looked lovelier.
She wore a long summer gown of light green and beamed from the attention
the men bestowed as well as from the knowledge that Kyndall was happy.
Various beings vied for the privilege of showing off their powers before
the woman. And that too seemed to fill Anna with immeasurable joy. She
was in a world of magic and living a dream.

And Garland seemed to be much more approachable since he could actually
read. A feat only Kyndall could have accomplished. The Troll now loved
to borrow books from Lady Dunnemore’s library and appeared to be making
up for years of having done without them. Now he was happily sharing a
story with Autumn and her playmates. In the distance, Lore sauntered
near the edge of the forest. Two Fairy girls looped their arms around
the handsome rascal’s waist. Music his people played on their flutes
mingled with that of the Satyrs’ pan pipes. It was a glorious night indeed.

As for the poachers, her staff had accessed records indicating the men
who survived had been locked away. Doctors seemed hopeless that the
surviving Gipson brother and his friend would ever be cured of their
delusions regarding men bearing horns and those with green skin and
wings. Their guilt over shooting their comrades, it was believed, had
been too much for the two men to mentally accept. So the hunters had
come to know what it was to be the hunted. They would never kill on
sacred land again or hurt another member of the Order.

But one thing still puzzled the Sorceress. She was concerned about the
presence Soland and the others spoke about on the night the poachers
died. There was no record in any of the Order’s accounts as to such an
entity, real or perceived. Still, something had certainly sapped the
men’s strength, keeping them pinned down while the poachers shot wildly
and sealed their own fate. She shook off the memory, let the matter drop
for the time being and decided to enjoy the night. It was difficult to
do as her beloved Hugh was still in Scotland on business that would
require her attention soon.

One of their people there was missing and the absent party was someone
who was needed to guard the treasure of Loch Ness. This was a secret
that had been kept for centuries. However, Shayla sensed this lost
member of the Order wasn’t neglecting her duties or running from them
altogether so much as trying to set a dangerous situation to rights.
Hugh was trying to discover what was happening even as he was missed on
this lovely Midsummer evening.

Again, Shayla shoved business matters away for the present and took the
time to enjoy a perfect Midsummer’s Eve celebration. She and Hugh would
be together for the next one, Goddess willing.

* * * * *

Unknown to even the Sorceress of the Ancients, a warm breeze drifted
through the bower where Soland and Kyndall lay in each other’s arms.
Their slow, sensual kisses and murmured endearments told of a great,
abiding love. With no further need to see to their safety, the spirit’s
time was finally at an end, and she drifted away into the summer night.

/“Be at peace, my dear loves. You’ll know great joy in your lives and
Kyndall will change for the better. She’ll raise children who’ll be
loved and cherished. Autumn won’t be alone. Ever. And now my work is
done. It’s time for me to go.”/

/“And where am I?”/ the gentle spirit asked. /“Though not bound by this
Earth, I’ll be in the flowers that bloom, the leaves that fall, the snow
which drifts and in each summer breeze. I’ll always be with you. Always
and forever.”/

 


About the Author

 

Candace Sams is also known as C.S. Chatterly. Before writing
award-winning paranormal fiction, she was a police officer for eleven
years and a crew chief on an ambulance for eight. She is also the senior
woman on the U.S. Kung Fu team and is now receiving Olympic-level
training for her fourth black belt. At the age of fifty, she works out a
minimum of about nine hours per week.

Currently, Candace lives in the deep south with her husband, Lee. Two
dogs and four cats have adopted her. Besides writing and martial arts,
she enjoys gardening, weight lifting, and getting email from readers.


 

Tales of the Order 1: Gryphon’s Quest

Tales of the Order 2: The Gazing Globe

Tales of the Order 3: Stone Heart

Tales of the Order 4: Goblin Moon

Tales of the Order 5: The Craftsman

Tales of the Order 6 : Satyr