Like sunshine sparkling on water, Chime ran up the hill to Muller, her husband. Sitting farther up the slope, Iris watched them. Off to her right, on the edge of a bluff, Jarid stood alone, staring out at the vista of green hills, meadows and woods. Although he wore rich garments now instead of rags, he still dressed simply in dark trousers and a white shirt. Iris had no idea what he was thinking now; even when she could feel his moods, she had trouble understanding them. But whatever thoughts occupied him today were calm.
Over the past months, during the spring and summer, his tormented moods had eased. Although she doubted he would ever let himself free of the guilt that haunted him, his days at Suncroft seemed to soften the jagged edges of his grief. He had asked Stone to stay, providing him with farmland to the south of Crofts Vale.
Iris was coming to know her husband. In many ways, he was still the boy who had lost his parents. Although he learned at an incredible rate, he rarely spoke. His powers were unparalleled. Fourteen years of honing them through meditation had turned him into a mage greater than any known in the recorded history of Aronsdale. In the past, the queen had served as the mage for the realm and the king as its sovereign. Iris and Jarid were reversing those roles. He had little desire to govern, but he could easily spend all day developing spells. Together, they could give Aronsdale the strength to stand against Harsdown.
It wasn’t an easy road, learning to govern, but to Iris’s surprise, it suited her. She was also learning self-discipline. Incredibly, she had talents to offer Aronsdale, and she had a place here at Suncroft. She and Jarid spent most of their time learning their duties, with help from Muller and Chime, but today they had borrowed a few moments just to enjoy the sunshine.
As if he had heard her thoughts, Jarid turned to her, his dark hair blowing in the wind, and beckoned, inviting her over. Her mood warming, she rose to her feet and went to him, savoring the sight of this man who had come to mean so much to her. They sat together on the edge of the bluff, gazing at the countryside. In a distant valley, Crofts Vale slumbered in the sunlight. Closer, but still far down the slope, Muller and Chime strolled into view, holding hands.
Jarid spoke in a low voice. “They are happy.”
“Aye.” Iris wanted to ask, And you? But she held back. On the night he had agreed to stay at Suncroft, she had sworn to herself she would never push him. In the months since, she had done her best to keep the vow.
Jarid took her hand. “Iris—”
“Aye?”
He rubbed his thumb over her knuckles. “A lovely day.”
“That it is.” She wondered at his mood; he so rarely engaged in casual conversation.
He spoke softly. “It will never come easy for me.”
“It?”
“Speaking.”
She flushed. “Can you tell my moods that easily?”
“Not so easy. But some.” He touched her cheek. “My silences leave a woman lonely, I think.”
“Nay. You fill my life.” She had never felt lonely since he had come here. Vulnerable, yes; if you loved someone, you risked hurting that much more if you ever lost them. But it was far, far better than loneliness. The emptiness she had known all her life was filling now.
“Silence donna mean absence,” she said.
“It is hard for me to say what is inside.”
Iris curled her hand around his. “It is you I want. Not words.” She almost added, Words can’t love you, but she held back. It was too much to ask him to return her love. They had wed as strangers. It was enough that he seemed content with their union.
Jarid turned her palm upward to the sky. He cupped his hand under hers, as if they were holding an invisible orb. “Look.”
A sphere of light appeared in her hand, glowing violet. His mage color. Her pulse quickened. The power of that simple orb could vanquish any mage in the land.
“It’s beautiful,” she whispered. “Terrifying and beautiful.”
“Now yours.”
“Mine?” No one knew yet her mage color.
His voice rumbled. “Watch.”
The orb of light in her hand changed—into a rainbow. Every color swirled within the enchanted sphere, swirling in beauty.
Wonder spread through Iris at the exquisite sight. But she said, “It cannot be. A mage is one color, not all.”
“You are like none other. You have part of all of us in you.” He lifted their hands together, offering the orb to the sun, sky and land. Its light swirled and spun.
As she watched, marveling, the sphere rose from their hands, growing in size, translucent in the streaming sunlight. She could see the countryside through its glimmering surfaces. The orb bobbed on the gentle breezes like a giant bubble, rising higher, blown toward the village. It drifted across the land, pulling out into an arc against the sky. Farther and farther it floated, stretching out…
Then it was done—and a rainbow arched in the sky. It was impossible in the clear, sunny weather, without a raindrop in sight. Yet there it was, brilliant and pure, a great bow of color over the village of Crofts Vale.
“A gift to our people,” Jarid murmured. “Light and the healing that comes after a storm.”
Tears gathered in Iris’s eyes. “It is truly lovely.”
“It truly is.” His voice had an odd sound. “A sight that I love.”
Iris turned—to find him looking at her. Her breath caught. “That you love?”
“Aye.” His voice gentled, falling into the cadences of the Tallwalk Mountains. He curved his hand around her cheek, his palm tingling with the power of the sphere they had held. “You.”
For a moment her voice failed. When she found it again, she said, “And I you, my love.”
So they sat together in the sunlight, watching the enchanted view, each a haven for the other, their hearts reborn in the gentle radiance of their shared gifts.