They stood for a moment, watching the fire. If there had been others here, it would now be a time for music and dancing around a huge bonfire in the sacred grove. But many years ago Rhiannon had condemned them both to solitude, and so they celebrated alone.
“Oh, Mam,” Gwen said excitedly, “I have a present for you.”
“A present?”
“It’s your name day.”
“Oh. You remembered,” Rhiannon said flatly. Gwen’s face fell and Rhiannon was instantly repentant. She went on gently, “Thank you, Gwen. That’s very thoughtful.”
Gwen smiled tentatively, as Rhiannon put her arms around her daughter and hugged her. “Wait right here,” Gwen said as she scurried off into the storeroom.
Gwen ran back in, holding something behind her back. “Close your eyes and hold out your hands,” she said.
Rhiannon did as she was told, and Gwen gently placed something in her hands. It was a bracelet, intricately woven with thin strips of leather. From the band a tiny, wooden heart dangled. It was made of ash wood, and polished to dazzling whiteness. Gwen pointed to the heart, “So you always have my love with you, wherever you are.”
Rhiannon’s eyes filled with tears and her throat was tight. “I’ll wear it always. Help me put it on.”
Gwen tied the strip of leather around her mother’s slender wrist. “It’s not too bad. It took me four tries to get it right.”
“It’s perfect,” Rhiannon laughed and hugged Gwen again, holding her daughter close to her heart. And she thought in despair that the time was coming soon when she would have to send Gwen away from Coed Aderyn, back into the world beyond the wood, alone. That fact, now squarely faced, set her heart to beating wildly with the loss and sorrow and pain that she knew would come. And set her to pleading hopelessly and silently that she would be given be more time—just one more year, she begged—before she would have to endure a broken heart, again.
LATER, AFTER THEY had eaten, Rhiannon sent Gwen to bed. Gwen protested, but only halfheartedly and more out of habit, for her eyelids drooped noticeably.
“No arguments, Gwenhwyfar. It’s been a big day. And you must be well-rested for more practicing tomorrow.”
Sighing, Gwen kissed Rhiannon’s cheek. “Night, Mam,” she said, her words slurred with exhaustion.
Rhiannon helped Gwen to undress then settled her into the pallet, tenderly covering her daughter with a woolen blanket. Rhiannon kissed Gwen’s forehead, then made her way back to the bench before the fire. Even before she sat down she could tell by Gwen’s breathing that the child was fast asleep.
Rhiannon tried to settle down in front of the fire but she was too restless. She felt it again—that feeling that someone was thinking of her. Thinking very hard. Perhaps actually beginning to look for her. She sensed an indomitable will. She shivered, for that will felt carved of ice, or stone—implacable, commanding, pitiless. He, or she, would never give up, never stop looking, and never leave her be.
She shivered again, and told herself that these thoughts were ridiculous. She was going into a panic over nothing at all. Nevertheless, she didn’t feel like sitting still. Rising, she wrapped herself into her white woolen cloak and left the cave.
The cold night air was like a slap in the face. A few droplets from the waterfall splashed her as she went by and made her way down the rocks to stand by the pool. The full moon shone down brightly, turning the droplets in her hair to glittering diamonds, and turning the pool into molten silver.
Her doeskin boots made a crackling sound against the hard-packed snow. She stopped halfway around the pool, facing the waterfall. She gazed into the pool, her eyes tracing the path of the moon as it ran across the surface of the water.
Rhiannon stood silently by the pond. She remembered how she had first come to find this place, the year before she had been forced to go on with her life alone, with no one’s love to sustain her. For after her aunt had died, she had always been alone.
RHIANNON’S MOTHER, INDEG UR DREMAS, was a woman of the House of Llyr, daughter of the tenth Dreamer of Kymru. Indeg was Dewin, and she had passed the gift of clairvoyance to her daughter.
Rhiannon’s father, Hefeydd ap Con, was a Bard of humble background. He passed the gift of telepathy to his daughter. It was the only thing he had ever given her.
Rhiannon was born in the town of Geneur, in Prydyn, her father’s home. Indeg had refused to give birth to her daughter at Caer Dathyl, for her family had not been kind to Hefeydd, and she had loved him. After hours of labor, Indeg had finally brought forth a girl. And in that moment her life’s blood had gushed out of her in a flood, and she died.