“As pretty as those words may be, I’ll kindly remind ya that yer evadin’ the question, lad.”
Ahmose sighed. “Lily doesn’t need to know about the things I’ve seen. It will only confuse her.”
“Bah, you’re as full of secrets as a tick that’s found himself at the butcher shop. I can help, if you let me. My magic is o’ the earth, but it’s powerful, too.”
“I know it is. Did you know I can follow paths both ways?”
“What do ya mean?”
“I mean I can trace the past as well as the future.” Ahmose glanced at the ground. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry about what happened to you.”
“I’ve found it’s best not ta look back with regret. Only with lessons learned. Misfortune can follow ya all o’ yer life. Ya end up with only two choices. Bemoan yer fate, slow down ta let it catch ya and then hold out yer arms to embrace the sadness, or keep runnin’ so’s it can’ ever catch up. I choose ta do the latter.”
“Then you are a wiser person than I’ve been. I let misfortune catch me.”
“Then escape its grasp. My ma always said, ‘Love is sweet, as sweet as honey, but the best honey is found in the quiet, forgotten places. Don’t go lookin’ for it in a busy hive, lest ya get stung.’ Sounds ta me like ya got stung, Ahmose.”
He smiled all sweet, the otherworldly moonlight melting in his dark hair, making it shine like his eyes. “That I did.”
“Good night, Ahmose.”
“Good night, Ash.”
The next morning, Tia was back, and we filled her in on all she missed, though it seemed she remembered bits and pieces of it as if in a dream. We speculated as to why she had been most affected by the flower’s drugging effects, and the best we and the unicorns could come up with was that Tia was closer to their natural prey than Ashleigh or I were.
It was disturbing to think that the toxins could affect Tia and Ashleigh’s consciousnesses. I’m sure Hassan would have come up with a more solid theory than we could. Tia didn’t want to dwell on it. She was more interested in the animal that had hunted us than the plant. She considered death by vegetation to be about as ignoble a thing a lioness could ever suffer.
During the next few days we fell into a routine. Tia taught me how to stalk and hunt prey. Each time we drew an arrow, the shaft ended in a blue-tipped feather. Though, when we checked, the quiver was still full of the feathers Isis had given us.
Ahmose had all kinds of idea about why this phenomenon might occur, the foremost being that we were unconsciously saving up our most powerful arrows for the upcoming battle. I didn’t like thinking about that. My theory was that the quiver was somehow spellbound to just produce whatever arrows we had need of. Tia didn’t believe any of this and preferred avoiding the arrows, encouraging us to hunt with our claws or knives.
Sometimes, as we dined on strange alien fish, wild lettuce, edible flowers, and the sweet water he summoned from the sky, I felt Ahmose’s gaze linger on my face longer than was necessary, and he rode alongside me more often than not, engaging me in conversation.
He was interested in quite a variety of things. We spoke at length about the modern world, and he asked me numerous questions. Ahmose wanted to know everything, from how water was brought into the city and made hot for showers, which was something he loved about my time, to what I studied in school, to how cars worked.
But he also, very politely, asked Tia about her life as a lioness, about her lost sister—something I didn’t know, or at least didn’t remember—and engaged Ashleigh in long discussions about her home life in Ireland. I let each girl speak for herself when he asked questions and was happy to give them time to be in control.
Ashleigh told him an interesting story about how when she was a young girl of ten, she used to gather apples for an old woman who was so bent over she could no longer reach her tree. One day, her curly red hair got caught in a limb of the tree, and she cried and hollered until the old woman came out. “What do ya expect me ta do, lass?” she’d asked. “I can’t reach ya ta help ya get unstuck.”
“Take up an ax,” Ashleigh had cried. “Chop the tree down. A girl is much more important than an apple tree.”
“Ah,” the old woman had said, “but apple trees take years o’ nurturing ta bear fruit. I’ve cared for this tree since I was a young girl. ’Tis vera important ta me. Its apples feed me all year long. Birds sit in its branches and sing ta me when I’m lonely. I’m afraid without the tree, I’d perish.”
“But what ’bout me?” Ashleigh wailed. “I canna stay up here forever!”
“This was when I learnt the most important lesson o’ my young life,” Ashleigh told Ahmose, who listened with interest. “The old woman didn’t say anything else. She didn’ argue or offer other reasons. She didn’ hesitate. She jus’ picked up the ax an’ got ready ta swing. But right before she did, I called out ta her.
“ ‘Wait! Don’ do it.’ Instead I asked her ta ’and me ’er kitchen knife. Even though I sobbed somethin’ fierce, I hacked off all my pretty red hair till I was finally freed. I’d thought o’ doin’ it first thing after I got stuck, but I didn’ want ta give it up. I was a rather vain little girl, an’ I’d rather someone else make a sacrifice instead o’ me, even though mine would cause the lesser pain. I learnt that day that I had ta stop bein’ a selfish child. Ta this day I canna see an apple an’ not think o’ the woman.”
“It was nice of you to help her.”
“Oh, I didn’ wan’ ta. Everyone thought she was a witch, and my da was scared o’ her. When she asked for me, he was too frightened ta say no.”
“People often think those who are different possess magic.”
“That’s the thing, isn’t it? She was a witch. She was the one introduced me ta the fairy tree. She was its guardian an’ knew she wasn’t long for the world. The day she died, I became its caretaker.”
The unicorns moved ahead, and Ahmose and Ashleigh were silent for a time. Then he said, “You miss your red hair.”
“Aye, I do. It was lovely. As curly as a pumpkin vine an’ as red as the wild corn poppies. I miss it.” Quickly, Ashleigh fidgeted with my own hair, tucking it into the arrangement she had done that morning. “Not that Lily’s hair isn’ pretty. I jus’ miss feelin’ the curls, that’s all.”
Ahmose reached over and patted my leg, giving Ashleigh a sympathetic look but saying nothing. She retreated after that, wanting me to take over.
Soon, I began to notice other little kindnesses Ahmose did. Things like helping me down after a long day of riding, or leaving a bright red flower on top of my cloak when I headed into the trees by myself. He’d always notice when it was me or Ashleigh or Tia, congratulating Tia on a skillful catch at the river, or just saying hello to Ashleigh and asking what she thought about one thing or another that the two of us had talked about.
By the sixth day, my mind swam with little half-remembered stories and dreams from Ahmose and Ashleigh’s nighttime conversations. One dream was of a fairy with green eyes and a small, slender body. She was made crazy by the moon, and she danced and feasted beneath its light, singing softly to him. The lovesick fairy cried each night the moon set, thinking him dead, but rejoiced when he was reborn the next night. She believed that when a fairy died, the moon would send a shaft of light to catch her and bring her up to live with him. But a fairy cannot choose when she dies, so she waited, looking up at him with longing, night after eternal night.
There was another story or dream about a man trapped in the moon. He looked down upon the mortal realm and spotted a beautiful girl. Instantly, he fell in love with her. But, alas, he knew they could never be together, so instead he watched over her and learned to love her in new ways every day. But this one could choose when she would die.
The pretty girl discovered that she was to be given in marriage to a man she didn’t love, and she threw herself from a tower rather than marry him. The moon, desperate to save her, reached out with his brilliant arms and caught her, but his li
ght was too powerful, and he was weakened by his efforts. The girl became blind—moonstruck, they called it.
He begged the gods for help, and they put her in a deep sleep. She would not age, and her beauty would not wane, so he could look upon her face forever. The woman he treasured would never die. He could hold her with his moonlight arms, but their hearts still could not be together. His love brought him no comfort, for he was a man tormented by the feast set before him and yet he could not taste it. The light around him dimmed, and the moon was haloed by darkness.
Time passed as the man in the moon mourned. Finally, he told the gods he was ready to let her go. To let her find peace. The gods smiled and touched their fingers to the girl’s eyes. She woke and looked up into the moon, finding there the face of the man who loved her. “Now she is truly yours,” they said. “For you have proven that her welfare means more to you than your own.”
His new bride ran into his arms and laughed as he spun her around. The two of them were freed from the confines of the moon, and the fabric of space was drawn together so that they might begin life anew in another world. As their feet touched down on a sea of undulating blue grass, they looked up at the haloed moon and knew it as a reminder to always think of the other before one’s self.
If they forgot and became selfish, they would be separated once again. The moon would warn them when they were in danger. This is why a haloed moon is a portent. At the least, it was a sign of inclement weather. At its worst, it was an omen of imminent loss and heartbreaking sorrow.
I pondered these stories as I followed Ahmose along the river’s edge. Something was changing between us. When he climbed a ridge seeking a path, I found myself captured by the sight of his muscled back and stared at his rigid forearms as he stretched them over the ground. Despite his dislike of battle, his was the build of a warrior. And, after spending days by his side, I realized not only that he was as beautiful on the inside as he was on the outside, but that I couldn’t imagine not having him there.
It amazed me how quickly I’d come to rely on his steady presence. On his companionship. Maybe it was my fear of what lay ahead that spurred me to act, but what I felt didn’t seem wrong. Everything inside me, the very beat of my heart, told me it was right. Perhaps it was premature. Maybe I should have waited to talk with Tia and Ashleigh about it first, but I didn’t sense any trepidation on their part. In fact, they were quietly hopeful. At least, that’s the innate sense I got.
Ahmose had said I had choices to make. Since I’d woken on my grandmother’s farm, it didn’t feel that way. The weight of the world rested on my shoulders, and I’d been told stories of what I’d done and who I loved, but I couldn’t remember any of that. All I knew was now. My feelings were real. Right or wrong, they were there. So I made a choice.
Ahmose returned to my side, and I found myself breathing quickly. My heart pounded at his approach. When he placed his wide hands around my waist to help me down, I wrapped mine around his neck. I didn’t step away after I found my footing. His dark hair looked flecked with gold in the setting sun. Boldly, I brushed a lock of it away from his cheek, relishing the rough scrape of his unshaven stubble against my fingertips.
Gently, he took my hands from around his neck and pressed a kiss against my wrist. “Are you certain this is the path you wish to take?” he asked softly. His gaze was shuttered, as if he didn’t really want to know the answer, but I could still make out a piercing gleam in his silver eyes, and that brightness beckoned me closer. My heart beat so fast, I felt like I was a new star, gleaming and fresh as a new diamond, outshining the setting sun. I could have lit up the world all by myself.
“This path makes me happy,” I said simply.
Slowly, deliberately, he lifted his hand and cupped my cheek. The expression on his face changed from one of careful soberness to a joyful, boyish kind of delight. “It makes me happy, too.”
And he kissed me. A sweet, drowning kind of kiss. The kind that could drive you to your knees. In fact, it did take us to our knees, but he still refused to let me go. His hands splayed on my hips and remained fixed there as he tugged me against his warm body. The hard planes of his chest reminded me of a shield—one that protected his heart. Enemies should fear the strength and power found there, and yet, for me, he bent.
He tangled his hands in my hair, and Ashleigh’s careful arrangement came undone. Golden scarab pins dropped haphazardly to the ground. It didn’t matter, though, not when he trapped the loose tresses and curled them around his warm fingers. I wrapped my arms around him, drawing him ever closer. It seemed we couldn’t get enough of touching and kissing. When he broke away, we were both panting, but there was a satisfied grin on his face a mile wide.
As he traced his thumbs across my cheekbones, my breath hitched as I anticipated the velvety soft touch of his lips on mine again. Ahmose was such a beautiful man. It was every girl’s dream to have a guy like him looking at her the way he now looked at me, as if I were his whole world. Even though I didn’t want to do anything to ruin the moment, my curiosity got the better of me. “Did you see this path? Us, I mean?”
Ahmose’s smile softened, sobered, and he spoke in a voice low and heavy, “I’ve known it was a possibility from the moment we first met.” His eyes fluttered closed then, and the happiness in his face dimmed slightly. “You must know I did not cause this to be,” he said, as if I might wish to blame him for my feelings. “There were hundreds of choices you could have made that would have led you in a different direction.”
“But this was the path with the strongest possibility,” I said.
“It was,” Ahmose admitted. “And I do not regret this course.” Capturing my hands, he slowly kissed each palm. “I hope that you do not either.”
“I don’t,” I murmured softly and was rewarded by the renewed gleam in his silver-gray eyes. The short, stubbly hairs on his cheek moved across the sensitive skin on the inside of my wrist, sending shivers down my spine.
When he lifted his head, I swayed, but he steadied me. “Of all the wonders I’ve experienced. Of all the paths I’ve seen. You are the only true magic I’ve ever beheld. Ever held in my arms.”
Then the Master of Beast and Storm, the man known as pathfinder, healer, and most of all, Ahmose, stood, drawing me up. He wrapped his big body around mine, tucking me into his chest. There I felt safe, protected, warm, and above all else, loved. But even in that safe haven, I felt a drop of rain hit my forehead. Another drop plinked against the knife handle sticking out of the harness that I’d let drop carelessly to the ground.
Ahmose looked up at the sky. The sun had set and the blue moon had risen. There was a dark, foreboding halo circling it. Frowning, Ahmose said, “Come, love. A storm approaches. We must find shelter.”
The heavens opened above us, and dense rain hit the river rocks in heavy sheets. It pummeled our backs with stinging, angry drops. The storm smelled bitter—like creosote and ash. Ahmose moved off a few steps, attempting to find a path, and when he returned, his hair was slicked back and dripping wet. Even the unicorns lowered their heads and trudged forward. Their long lashes stuck together while beads of lavender rain trickled from their pointed tips, trailing down their white cheeks like tears.
Dark purple-black clouds obscured the moons and the stars. Lightning struck nearby, and the smell of ozone and burned wood filled my nostrils. The plants seemed to fold in on themselves, rolling their leaves in little curlicues and pulling the stems in tightly against their trunks. My heart beat quick and frantic when thunder boomed, shaking the ground.
I took hold of Ahmose’s thick arm. “Can’t you stop it?” I cried, needing to raise my voice above the noise of the storm so I could be heard.
Ahmose shook his head. “Something is wrong,” he shouted back. “My powers aren’t working. But I found a cave not too far from here. It’s big enough for us and the unicorns.” He tried to give me a reassuring smile, but it was too tight, more of a grimace than a smile. Something was more than wro
ng.
Finally, after being beaten back and battered by the storm for more than an hour, we came upon the cave. Ahmose ducked inside first, but he quickly returned after scanning it and took my hand, guiding me in. The unicorns followed, their back muscles twitching and their heads shaking to shed the rain from their coats and heavy manes.
I gathered my spilled, sodden hair over my shoulder and wrung it out. I wasn’t able to see more than five feet in front of me, even with Tia’s night vision, so I wasn’t sure how Ahmose was able to make his way around without stumbling. He returned shortly after he left my side, saying he wasn’t able to find dry-enough wood for a fire. Instead, he murmured a spell and his skin lit from within. His eyes burned like shiny headlights in a fog, which explained how he could see in the dark so well.
“What is that?” I asked in wonder, taking his hand and turning it over in mine to examine the light emanating from it. A kind of heat, warm and pleasurable, seeped from his bare skin into mine. His body glowed silver in the dark cave, but I was more interested in how his power lit me up on the inside.
“All my brothers have this ability. You might not remember it, though.”
“It’s…it’s amazing,” I said, taking his hand and pressing to the space over my collarbone. I gasped as my heart fluttered wildly at the touch. “Does it hurt you?”
Ahmose laughed softly. “No.” After stretching his fingers and grazing them lightly over my jaw, shooting tingles up to the roots of my hair and down my spine, he said huskily, “There will be more of that another time, love.”
He stepped back and picked up some large rocks, then he rubbed his hand across their surfaces, one by one, murmuring some words in Egyptian. The rocks began to glow with the same silver light coming from his skin. He set them in nooks and crannies throughout the cave and then told me he was going to fashion some new clothing and change. I somewhat reluctantly turned my back to him and walked to the edge of the cave to give him some privacy.