Realms of Shadow - Lizz Baldwin [54]
The voice returned, rising and falling in windlike rhythm. It seemed to create a wind, for though no breeze swept the grasses among which the druid-wizard hid, the rose nodded and swayed, almost as though it responded to the man's thoughts.
The druid-wizard swiveled her ears, as if to better catch those thoughts.
… fell asleep in my stew and dreamed of music. In that music, you spoke to me. And I tried to tell you "soon," but I don't know if my words reached you. Now I am awake, and I can talk to you only like this. Please understand me. Please know that I am talking to you. Ah! You nod! But I never know if your replies are real or merely figments of my desperation. I have lost my ability to know anything with certainty. I am… I am lost…
He broke into quiet sobs. The druid-wizard thought she sensed an image in his mind-an image of a woman…
Clearly the man had gone mad in his isolation. Fascinating.
The druid-wizard could almost imagine that he spoke to her somehow, and not to the rose. Some part of her responded to the idea with a surge of longing so sudden that she could not breathe, an imperative that, for a moment, wiped out all else.
She had not lost control of her emotions in such a way since childhood. To know surprise at a simple hermit's thought-projection! To be blindsided by emotion hitherto suppressed, unsuspected! She should leave, power of this magnitude could ruin her. Even as she thought this, she knew that whatever force was at work here had already secured its hold on her. Plus, she must complete the task for the Shadovar, and that meant exploring every avenue of this country. She must see where this path led.
The man shook himself. Perhaps he chided himself for becoming so emotional over a plant, or perhaps he shuddered in an echo of the druid-wizard's longing. He stood and entered his cabin, closing the door behind him, leaving the rose to nod and twitch alone. It turned to face the druid-wizard-almost as if it knew she was there and regarded her with curiosity. But that was just the way some breeze had blown it.
Angry with herself, the druid-wizard resumed her human shape abruptly enough to cause herself pain and strode to the cottage's back door. She hated her weakness, but she could not deny that she wanted the man- wanted to make him speak to her as he had spoken to the rose.
As she knocked, she forced her turmoil aside and focused upon enhancing her beauty. She drew from the vague image of the woman she had seen in the man's mind, as well as from her own ideal self-image. Her eye color intensified, her hair took on new highlights and curls, the top few buttons of her shirt undid themselves. No man had ever resisted this spell.
* * * * *
The man opened the door, a puzzled half-smile betraying surprise at the appearance of a visitor so soon after his moment with the rose-and at the back door, no less. For a moment his heart had surged with the wild hope that… but no, he must not indulge such fantasies.
When he saw the woman, puzzlement gave way to lust and wariness, the latter because one such as this woman would never appear at a place such as this without trouble in the land or powerful magic at work.
* * * * *
Time for the druid-wizard to play her part, if she was really to make this man her own.
She adopted an expression of uncertainty and stammered a pattern of truths and half-truths. "I… I… felt drawn to this place. I have no one, and I dreamed that I must journey… I saw you with your rose, and I thought I would like to know love like that. So… here I am.
"I’ll leave if I came in error," she added, to dispel any doubts that might remain after her speech.
He said not a word-not one word for her in that voice!-but drew her inside.
Now I’ll see if I can call forth love as effectively as I can call forth pain, she thought. And, once I do, to see if love can grant me as much gratification. Perhaps, as some attest, even more.
She let her body take control-drew his head