Hunter's Season (Elder Races #4.7)(35)

They found the shrine at a crossroads. It was a simple affair, a grotto built of ancient stone beside a bubbling spring. They tethered their horses. Xanthe dug into one of her packs to retrieve the box of Tarot cards which she had wrapped in protective silk. Aubrey held his hand out to her, and she took it. They walked together to the shrine.

It was a peaceful place, silent except for the constant play of water falling over stone, deep with a sense of greening life despite winter’s approach. Others had left offerings before them, a withered bouquet of flowers, fruit that had been nibbled at by wildlife and scattered on the ground, a tiny pair of knitted baby shoes. The sight of those caught at Xanthe, and she blinked back a sudden impulse to tears as she sent up a silent prayer for that unknown baby.

“I want to think that those shoes were left in gratitude for the birth of a new baby,” she said in a husky voice. “And not because some child has passed.”

Aubrey rubbed her back and said gently, “Then that is what we will believe.”

As she glanced at him, he nodded an encouragement to her. She walked over and laid the box in the grotto. The mellow Power of the cards bathed her hands one last time as she let them go. Thank you, she said silently to the goddess. Like a chalice, her heart was filled to the brim. She had not known she could hold so much emotion.

In this quiet, eternal place, her arguments against marriage seemed superfluous, especially since she was arguing against her own wishes. She turned to Aubrey. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”

His face lit with triumph and joy. “I knew it,” he said. He pulled her into his arms.

“Don’t be insufferable about it,” she told him, smiling. She laid her head on his shoulder.

He held her, his face buried in her hair. “You are the love of my life,” he whispered. “That means I get to be as insufferable as I like.”

“Oh, is that what it means?” She laughed and he chuckled too. She turned her face into his neck, her arms wrapped around his waist.

They stood together for a while as peace soaked into their bones. Then Aubrey kissed her temple. “Are you ready to start back?”

“Yes.” She pulled away, glanced at the shrine—and froze as her world tilted.

The silk wrapped box had vanished.

She managed to whisper, “Aubrey.”

“What?” He followed the direction of her gaze and stood very still, his expression sharp with wonder. “I’ll be damned. It was hers.”

“I thought—I mean, I guess I didn’t really think it was true. Like you said, the chances of it were outrageously rare.” She felt like she was babbling but she couldn’t seem to stop. “What do you suppose will happen to it now?”

“She’ll cast it into the world someplace else,” Aubrey said. “Who knows when, or where?”

Xanthe smiled. “How lovely.”