Chapter Twenty-Four

“I had the strangest dream,” Anwyn confessed. “I thought I heard people talking—you, and a woman.”

She had awakened in Curlew’s arms, the one place she wanted to be. And now, with the sun barely up and the air cold and still all around them, her heart rose wildly. For he seemed to gaze into her, all the way to her heart, as if she were the only thing in his world.

She sat up. “Was it your mother with whom you spoke? Have your parents returned after all?”

“Nay.” Gently, he eased her back down to lie against his shoulder. “’Twas my grandmother you heard. It is as I told you, my parents will not be coming back. They have gone to be together in a place that is here, yet not here.”

“I do not understand.”

He smiled and it lit his face with warmth. “I am not sure I do, either, not completely. Yet with my mother’s going, her triad ends, and surely the new one must take its place. Sherwood brought you to us just in time.”

Anwyn fought to make sense of it all. “But your uncle, Falcon Scarlet—you need, still, to get him back.” She caught her breath. “I think I know a way.”

“Aye?”

“It came to me all of a piece while we slept.” Born in part of her desire to give anything and everything to him. It terrified her, such desire, made her heart beat high in her breast, made it hard for the breath to come. But she could not fail him. She would not.

“Eh?” His fingers tensed on her shoulder and his gaze became intent.

“Lord Simon acts on my father’s behalf in this. They knew each other well as young men, when de Asselacton captained the King’s guard in the west. They fought together; in fact during a fierce battle, my father saved Lord Simon’s life. There is little Lord Simon would not do in return. For that reason I believe he will make good on his threats and refuse to release your uncle if I am not found. He may even sentence Falcon to death.” She held Curlew’s gaze. “You have already lost your parents. I will not have you lose your uncle also.”

“Aye, but…” Curlew twined his fingers through her hair. That mere touch made her relive all they had shared last night. She could feel his body moving over hers again, and his lips everywhere. “I need you also. Heron and I do. Sherwood does.”

“Let me return to my father just long enough for an exchange to be made. I will come back to you as soon as your uncle is safe.”

“If you can. If your father so allows. He will keep much closer watch on you, after this.”

“He thinks I was snatched, abducted. I will feed his belief with some tale, say I never saw the faces of my abductors and that I was held elsewhere, far from Oakham. Your folk will be safe. You will be safe.” She raised her hand to his cheek.

He caught her hand and pressed his lips to the palm. His breath whispered across her skin as he said, “I am not at all sure I can let you go now.”

“Curlew—”

“What if your father insists on wedding you at once to this man you detest?”

“Havers? He will never have me now that I am most assuredly ruined.”

“What if he does not believe you ruined? You are meant to be mine, Anwyn—mine, and Sherwood’s.”

Emotion rose inside her, fierce and tumultuous. She seized hold of him and stared into his eyes. “You listen to me, Curlew Champion. I will return to you at any cost. How can you imagine I can be kept away, when you are here?”

“By all the faith in my heart,” he avowed, “I cannot imagine it.”

“Then come, my fine lord of Sherwood, and ruin me one more time.”

****

“I mean to return at once to Nottingham,” Anwyn told the woman who sat cross-legged outside Heron’s hut. “Thus will I see your husband fairly returned to you.”

Lark got to her feet slowly. Light blazed in her eyes and chased some of the burning agony. Her gaze dropped to Anwyn’s hand, linked fast with that of Curlew, who stood beside her, and then returned to her face.

“What is this I hear?” Diera ducked through the doorway of the hut and into the light. “What has happened?”

“My parents are gone,” Curlew announced. He looked at his aunt. “They have done what everyone says Grandmother and Grandfather did—become part of Sherwood, together.”

Diera gasped, but Lark stood strong, her head well back. “Ah, so it is done, our circle sundered.”

“I am sorry, Aunt. You have lost much, your sister and the guardianship both.”

Lark smiled thinly. “You know, we none of us wanted to take it up when our turn came. Poor Fal! But I was his strength and he was my wisdom. We became one another’s life.”

That, Anwyn could understand.

“And Linnet—she was the one who kept us all whole and sane. Now she goes on ahead and the wheel turns. It seems, lass”—she bent her gaze on Anwyn—“you must take your place upon it. And much as I desire the return of my husband, I must ask: how does that fit with taking yourself away to Nottingham?”

“She thinks she can return to us once the exchange is made,” Curlew answered for Anwyn, hoarsely.

“Ah. So it seems you do have some courage. It had better be enough. We have had guardians in the past who failed dismally in their duty. But I lie. There has been only one.”

Curlew’s fingers jerked violently in Anwyn’s. She looked at him in question.

Not now. Did she truly hear his voice in her mind? I will tell you later.

She clenched his fingers hard and looked Lark full in the face. “I will prove myself and my courage to you, mistress, if you give me the chance.”

Lark grimaced. “Have I a choice? Send him back to me, lass, and you will be more than half the way to my favor.”

Anwyn nodded. Never in her life had she been required to prove herself to anyone. Her mother had always cherished her. Even Winifred, who had stepped in after her mother’s death, had been indulgent. And she had worked hard, since then, to destroy her father’s regard. Aye, she had much for which to make recompense.

Curlew looked at Diera, who stood silent, listening. “How does Heron?”

“He does very well.” The raspy voice came from behind Diera and made her start. Heron loomed behind her, his hair unbraided and hanging down, bandages swaddling his throat.

“You should not be on your feet!” Diera turned on him, and Anwyn caught a glimpse of her expression as she did. Ah, so the lovely Diera had given her heart to Heron. Anwyn twitched her fingers in Curlew’s again. All well and good, so long as Diera did not desire Curlew, for he was hers now and for all time.

But how might that impact this guardianship of three?

Heron looked at Anwyn. “I heard all you said. You leave for Nottingham directly?”

“Aye.”

“Come inside first. I think the three of us need to speak together.”

“Will that make you sit down?” Curlew asked Heron as they followed him in. The place, dim and quiet, still smelled of herbs.

Heron shrugged. “As you see, I am fast recovering, even though it seems I may never again sing. ’Tis an ugly voice now, is it not?”

Anwyn spoke impulsively, “Naught about you could ever be ugly.” She felt an instant surge of emotion from Curlew through their linked fingers, and thought at him, Do not worry—as I have promised, there is no one for me but you.

He eased, and Heron tipped his head almost as if he caught the echo of the exchange. “Ah, so that is the way of it. The circle is barely formed, and already the two of you have bonded.”

“Well before that,” Curlew said.

Heron smiled. “I am glad for you. Comfort him well, lass. He has lost much. And now even you must go from him for a time. But surely you know you cannot, in truth, be parted from him? Never again.”

“I am beginning to find my way through these new waters,” Anwyn admitted. “It is all strange and, it seems, navigated mainly by faith.”

“Very true. And so it seems,” Heron added almost wistfully, “it is me for Sherwood, and the hermitage.”

“You need not go alone,” Curlew told him. “Only think on my parents.”

“Aye, but who would go to live in oblivion with me?”

Anwyn nearly spoke. The merest twitch of Curlew’s fingers and a slight whisper in her mind kept her from it.

“So, cousin,” Heron said in his rough whisper, “your parents have gained eternity in Sherwood. It seems the three of us must take up our duty in earnest. First of all, I wish to thank you both for saving my life. Strong magic, that was. I do not believe I have ever felt any stronger.”

“Nor I,” Curlew agreed, to Anwyn’s surprise.

“I do not know, quite, how we managed that, the two of us and a novice. But it seems, gifted with such power, we must accomplish great things.”

Heron reached out and raised both his hands to Anwyn’s face. He did not touch her, quite, yet she could feel the magic hum in his hands, see it in his eyes as they caught hold of hers.

“And that means, young Anwyn, you must be sure to come back to us, whatever that requires.”