Page 59 of Under the Mistletoe
Astryn gasped and dropped the basket. The bunny didn’t seem to mind the fall as it hopped back into the underbrush without even a limp. A shiver shot down her spine, and the air seemed to press in on her.
Astryn spun toward the woman. “Who are you? How did you make the stone do that?”
The quick movement must have been too much, because she staggered sideways.
“One question at a time. But first, sit.” She pointed to a nearby bench and waited for Astryn to claim a spot, but she didn’t join her. “Healing the rabbit cost you. You transferred some of your life to the animal. You will regain that strength, but you must understand there is a cost each time you use it. The larger the living thing and the greater the injury, the greater the cost. Don’t forget that. It cost me everything.”
“What do you mean?”
“You asked how I made the stone do that. The simplest answer is, the stone didn’t do anything, and neither did I. The stone is just a stone. But long ago, Origin chose to empower the stone. Make no mistake, the power is His. His alone. Not yours, not the stone’s. But if someone is willing, their life can be transferred through the stone to others. It takes an open heart and pure motives. It takes a heart consumed with love and the desire to do anything for those they love. The power will never move for an impure purpose.”
Astryn fingered the pendant hanging around her neck. “How do you know all this?”
“Because that stone once hung around my neck. Origin gifted it to my husband, who gave it to me.”
To her? But it had been Orin’s mother’s…and she’d died years ago…The warmth drained from Astryn. Her eyes darted around the garden for her nearest guard. “Are you a ghost?”
“No, child, ghosts do not exist. And don’t call for the guard. They will not see me, because I am not here. I live with Origin now in the Land of Plenty. I have only come as a messenger. You see, even my own children don’t know its power.”
“What did you mean when you said it cost you everything?”
“It was the day the love of my life, King Maltic, lay dying. I couldn’t bear a world without him, so I poured all my strength into the stone even though I knew he was too far gone. It revived him, but only for mere minutes. My strength was not enough. So instead of saving him, we both died in the woods that day. I had a moment more with my dear Maltic, but I failed to put my kingdom first. I lost watching my boys grow. I lost the opportunity to shape the crown of the next generation.”
She stepped closer and brushed a piece of hair from Astryn’s face. “Do you love him?”
“Orin is an amazing king.” Astryn ducked her head for fear this woman would read her heart. “I feel privileged that I will soon be his wife.”
“But you lovehim.”
Astryn’s eyes darted to the woman’s, but instead of judgment, she found a knowing smile. And the way her eyes stared into Astryn’s soul for a moment was so reminiscent of Rand that Astryn’s heart nearly broke. She glanced down the path. Her father was approaching about thirty yards off, his Cambrian-red robes billowing out slowly with his steps, making a striking contrast to the green foliage. Astryn ducked her head so her father wouldn’t see her speaking. “What is the message? You said you had one.”
“Remember the power is a gift and it belongs to Origin. Don’t forget that when you are forced to make the same choice between life and love.”
Her head jerked up, but the woman was gone. Where she had stood a moment before, now a swirl of wind picked up and spun a few rose petals, then dissipated. Had that all really happened? Surely she’d imagined the whole thing.
“There you are, my dear.” Her father stopped in front of her and held out his hand, each finger adorned with a heavy gold ring representing an alliance. Only, the Anathian ring was missing, becauseshewas now the symbol of the alliance. “You are needed. Your betrothed has decided he needs to return to Anathia, and you need to see him off.”
Astryn took his callused hand in hers, then rose and slipped her arm into her father’s. “But the wedding is?—”
“Over a week away. But there have been raiding parties near the border, and he wants to see that his people are cared for and prepared for another extended absence. For after you wed, you two will travel, visiting allies. Fear not, he will return within the week with Prince Rand.”
Hearing his name again sent an awareness through her, but she shoved it away. “Did you know Orin’s parents well?”
“I did. Why do you ask?”
“I wondered how they died.”
“Quite tragically, actually. They were on a walk in the woods, and he was gored by a boar.”
“And her?”
“That was the strangest part. She had no wounds but was found dead, lying over his body.”
A small gasp escaped her, and her father patted her hand. “Let’s speak of happier things.”
“What did she look like?” Her heartbeat pounded in her ears.
“Their mother?” Her father ran a hand over his graying hair. “She was from the north—Kenthorian, I believe—so she was quite tall for a woman and had striking eyes. One green, one blue.”
