Belladonna (34 page)

She gripped the railing until her hands hurt, and forced herself to focus on the clear, clean sky until the ship was once again turning away from that spot.

"It's an anchor," Glorianna said, still keeping her eyes fixed on the sky. "That's why the White Isle is visible as ships approach it. But who could have done this?"
And why would anyone who cherished the Light create something so deadly?

"Glorianna, darling, I'm hearing the words but they're not making sense," Michael said.

His voice steadied her enough that she let go of the rail with one hand so that she could turn and face him,

"There is Dark and Light in all things, Magician. In all people, in all places. Somehow the dark feelings have been cast out, but the connection can't be severed completely. By trying to create a place that stands only in the Light, the people on the White Isle have created a dark landscape."

Hours later, Michael sat in the stern, his whistle held loosely in his hands while he stared at the water and wondered if he would ever trust the look of anything again.

"This is sweet water," Kenneday said happily, his hands steady on the wheel. Gone was the man who had grimly followed Glorianna's request to head south again in order to find a current of Light that would help them approach the White Isle. "Not the direction I'd usually take to reach Atwater's harbor, hut I've made note of it in my log, and I'll be looking for this channel from now on." He glanced over his shoulder at Michael. "Why don't you play us a tune?"

"Don't feel like it," Michael replied, not meeting Kenneday's eyes.

Kenneday jerked as if hit. "I've never known you to refuse to play a bit of music. What's troubling you? That your lady friend recognized that dark water and you didn't?"

"I don't feel like playing," Michael snapped — and then flinched. What damage had he done in that moment?

"More to the point, you don't want to feel at all," Glorianna said, joining them.

"Leave me be," Michael warned. Those green eyes of hers saw too much. That heart of hers understood too much — and not enough.

"To do what?" she asked. "Close yourself off? Refuse to be what you are? You can't hide from your feelings, Magician. You can't hide from your own heart."

He surged to his feet, aware that the sailors near them had stopped their work, and that Kenneday was watching and listening.

But the feelings bubbled over. "This morning we brushed the edge of a place dark enough to make you faint. A place made by ordinary people, if I understood what you were saying." He waved a hand to indicate the men on the ship. "For days now, you've been telling me I can do more to the world than the people around me. So how can I dare feel
anything
when so many people's lives hang in the balance of a mood? Happiness is safe enough, I suppose, but no one stays happy all the time. People call me an ill-wisher, but I've no desire to be the unintentional cause of misery." And how would he ever know how much misery he
had
caused — or if he had unknowingly created dark places in the world?

"You are the balance, the bedrock, the sieve that protects Ephemera from all the wind wishes and surface feelings that flow through the hearts of all the people who live in your landscapes."

"What about my heart, my feelings?" Michael asked raising his voice close to a shout. "What happens when I want to piss and moan about something?"

Glorianna put her hands on her hips and glared at him. "You tell the world you have emotional gas and it should ignore you when you fart!"

There was no sound except the wind in the sails and the ship slicing through the water.

Then someone farted, a little
poot
that broke the silence.

One sailor choked on a snort of laughter, which made another man sputter, which made another laugh out loud, and suddenly all the men around them were guffawing while Michael faced a woman who looked ready to tie him to an anchor and throw him overboard

He opened his mouth, not sure what he was going to say but sure he had better say something. Before he had the chance, Glorianna turned on her heel and walked away.

Scowling, Michael went to the rail, wanting no comments, no discussion, no company.

"I've heard there's an art to groveling," Lee said.

Figures that one would ignore the emotional "no trespassing" signs,
Michael thought sourly. "I'm not groveling."

Lee, the ripe bastard, laughed.

Michael tucked his whistle inside his coat. "Maybe I'm groveling."

"There's no maybe about it," Lee said cheerfully. "You make her nervous, so she's going to find you more annoying than most people."

"I can't seem to keep my balance these days, Michael said softly. "I sound like a fool half the time and act like a fool the other half."

"Not as bad as that," Lee replied, smiling. "Nothing has changed, Michael."

"Everything has changed."

"Yes. Exactly." Lee braced his hands on the rail. "You're beginning to understand the world, Magician."

"Maybe." Michael waited a beat, then added, "I'm not groveling."

Lee's smiled widened. "Suit yourself."

The man could he more helpful,
Michael grumbled to himself as he made his way to the bow, where Glorianna was doing a fine imitation of a merciless figurehead.
After all, it's not like I can pick a few flowers and try to charm her out of her mood.

He stopped suddenly, remembering another man trying to charm an unhappy woman by giving her a bouquet of wildflowers.

He'd loved the man. Still did when the images came back to him so painfully clear. And he'd loved the woman, despite her pain and rages.

"Nothing has changed, Michael."

"Everything has changed."

Feeling breathless, with his heart pounding, he joined Glorianna at the bow of the ship.

"I'd like to tell you a story," he said quietly. "Will you listen?"

Did she know how vulnerable he was at this moment? Could she understand what it meant that he was about to hand over the whole of his life to her judgment?

"I'll listen," she replied just as quietly.

Knowing he couldn't say the words if he was looking at her, he fixed his eyes on the sea. "My father was a wanderer who, it was said, could charm the birds into changing their songs into gold so he could have a few coins for his pocket. I never saw such a thing happen with the birds, but I'm thinking that, before my mother came along, more than one lady slipped a few coins in his pocket as a farewell present. And to be fair, he was a hard worker who could turn his hand to just about any kind of labor and was usually cheerful about it."

"He was a Magician?"

"He was. But he had an easy way about him, so people weren't eager to tar him with that particular brush. Anyway, he had two older brothers who took to the road to make their fortunes. They came back to visit their parents and kin a couple of times in the beginning, then were never heard from again."

He glanced at her to see how she was reacting to his story so far, but, like him, she kept her eyes on the sea and just nodded to indicate she understood.

"So my father, Devyn, went out on the road like his older brothers, needing more than he could find in the village where he'd been born. Sometimes things were good, sometimes they weren't, but he settled into a route that kept his feet moving and his heart happy, and for a few years he wandered from place to place with no ties because, as much as he traveled, he never seemed able to get back to the village where most of his kin lived."

"Maybe he couldn't," Glorianna said. "Often when a person crosses over to another landscape it's because they need to take the next step of their life journey. Sometimes that means adding something more to the life they've known — and sometimes it means not going back to the places and people they had known,"

"Maybe," Michael said softly, thinking of how he would have felt if he'd never managed to get back to Raven's Hill to spend time with Aunt Brighid and Caitlin Marie. "Maybe." Would that have been a comfort to the family Devyn had left behind, to know that his not coming back might have been a decision made by the world and not the man himself?
And which family are you
thinking of, my lad?
"So one year he ended up in a village that he'd never visited before and saw a pretty girl who captured his heart. Maureen had fire in her eyes and a voice, when she sang, that could make you weep with gratitude just for hearing it. She had an older sister who had gone to the White Isle to become a Sister of
light, but unlike Brighid, the White Isle didn't call to Maureen.

She wasn't a wicked girl, just restless and a little wild because of it. Then she met Devyn, who offered her a wedding ring and a way to get out of the village that was smothering her.

"For a while, things went well between them. There was Maureen's pleasure in seeing new places, even ones that made her feel as restless and edgy as her home village. There was Devyn's pleasure in showing his pretty wife those places that lifted his heart. And there was the pleasure they shared in the marriage bed.

"There were places where things went well for them. Money came easy enough, and when it didn't come easy, there was still enough to get by. And there were places where things began to sour after a day or two. And people would look at my mother and mutter about an ill-wisher being among them. So Maureen and Devyn would pack up and move on."

"She created dissonance without intending to, and then when blamed, probably fed the Dark currents with her own unhappiness. And Devyn, being unhappy about the troubles, wasn't able to balance things out." Glorianna shook her head. There was pity in her eyes. "She was a Landscaper who was unaware of her heritage. Mother and I speculated that there had to be other Landscapers beyond the landscapes that were held within the gardens at the Landscapers' school. The world would be too unstable without them. But we never considered what it would be like for those people to be so connected to Ephemera and not understand why some places would feel right and some wouldn't." She hesitated, and Michael heard her whisper, "Just heart's rain. It will pass, changing nothing."

As she said the words, clouds formed in what had been a clear sky.

"Your mother never found her landscapes, did she?" Glorianna asked, her eyes swimming with tears,

"No, I don't think she did." He stopped, needing a moment to regain control before going on with the story. "They first went to Raven's Hill when she was heavy with me. Devyn's mother's cousin lived there. That branch of the family had once lived in a grand house and were among the landed gentry. But bit by bit they lost the knack of it, and by the time Maureen and Devyn came to Raven's Hill all that was left was a cottage and some land. Including a hill where the ravens gathered, which was considered an omen of a dark heart.

"Devyn put his hand to whatever work he could find, and Maureen did some fancy stitching that she'd learned as a girl, which earned a few coins and helped put food on the table. And if Maureen sometimes had dark moods and Devyn sometimes had long silences whenever he worked around the harbor and had to watch the ships leaving ... Well, such things aren't unusual for a couple waiting for the birth of their first child, because nothing would be the same for them.

"They stayed in Raven's Hill for the birthing and a few weeks after until Maureen felt strong enough to take to the road again.

But it was different now. A woman carrying a baby can't be hauling a pack as well, and one man can't carry what three people need. So when they left Raven's Hill, they had a horse and a traveling wagon that held all their gear and provided Maureen with privacy when she needed to tend the baby.

"Once they adjusted to being a bit... harnessed ... instead of feeling free and easy, luck rode with them. Devyn found work that paid well enough to put by a few coins for the traveling days, and Maureen, shining with a new mother's pride, made friends with some of the women in the villages.

"I remember those years," Michael said, his voice rough with the feelings, good and bad, that came with the memories. "For a young boy, it was an adventure, and sometimes I felt so daring that I was traveling
about Elandar when most of the boys I played with hadn't gone beyond the boundaries of their own villages."

"And your parents?" Glorianna asked. "What about them?"

He said nothing for a minute. "I can remember them dancing together in the moonlight. I can remember the way they looked at each other, with heart and heat. And I can remember the bleakness in his eyes when she would start raging about seeing the same places and why couldn't they find a different road?

"When I was nine, her belly swelled with another child, but it was harder for her and she was more sickly, so they went back to Raven's Hill. Devyn's mother's cousin was dying, and they were there to look after her and be with her in the end. Before she died the cousin wrote up the papers giving the cottage and land to Devyn to hold in trust for a girl child because the cottage always went to female issue.

"There was no work for him. They got by, especially after Devyn dug up a small money chest filled with gold and silver coins when he was turning the soil for a kitchen garden. But after Caitlin was born, it was like the village had closed up its heart and its pockets where he was concerned. So he took up his pack and went back to traveling. The first few times he came back, he came with pockets bulging with coins and a song in his heart. Things would be good for a few days, and then she would tumble into one of her rages and the bleakness would fill his eyes. He'd wait until the storm passed and she was calm again — until she was close to being the girl who had captured his heart all those years before. Then he would head back to the road.