“They came to the high stone shaft with the face of Sul; they descended to the terrace below. And here Caradog waited, leaning on his silver-tipped rod and eying the horizon, until the delicate slip of the new moon moved out from behind the shoulder of Mount Damyake, with the mysterious, shadowy ghost of the old moon cradle inside it, like an egg inside its egg cup."Now it is time," he said."Blame it!" expostulated Dido. "It ain't right for me to die! Have you thought of that, mister? You're and old gager; you've lived nigh on fourscore years, I shouldn't wonder. You did a whole lot of things and learned a lot o' stuff --- though mussy knows, you ain't put it to very good use. But I haven't hardly done nothing! And I ain't learned much, neither, except the use of the globes that Mr. Holy taught me, and how to curtsy and cut up whales."At the thought of Mr. Holystone her voice, to her shame, began to wobble dangerously; she stopped speaking and drew a deep breath."Cease repining, child, and go down those steps," said Caradog. "Do not quarrel with your destiny. If Sul wishes you to die, then it is your time."Dido remembered the story that Bran had told about the man who picked up the necklace. Well, if it is my destiny, she thought, best not to make a pother about it.”

“She thought about Penny’s stories. There was one about a man who had three wishes and married a swan. If I had three wishes, I know what I’d wish for, thought Is. I’d wish for those two boys to be found, and for us all to be back on Blackheath Edge. She thought about Penny teaching her to read. “What’s the point of reading?” Is had grumbled at first. “You can allus tell me stories, that’s better than reading.” “I’ll not always be here,” Penny had said shortly. “Besides, once you can read, you can learn somebody else. Folk should teach each other what they know.” “Why?” “If you don’t learn anything, you don’t grow. And someone’s gotta learn you.”Well, thought Is, if I get outta here, I’ll be able to learn some other person the best way to get free from a rolled-up rug.”

“If she dies, you’re all to blame,” he said, turning accusing eyes on his family and hers. “This damned feud has to stop. Here. Now. For good.” He turned his gaze to Sam and said, “I’m sorry for what happened to you. It was an accident, plain and simple. I love your sister and I am, by God, going to make her my wife.” He turned to the rest of them and said, “And we’re going to be showing up for the holidays, and you’d better damned well make us welcome.”Owen was crying, the tears streaming unashamedly town his face. “I love Bayleigh Creed. Do you hear me? I love her!”“I think everyone can hear you just fine,” Bay murmured. “Oh, God, Red,” he said, smiling down at her through the blur of tears. “I thought you were dying.”She lifted a shaky hand to her head, but he caught it before she could touch the wound. “My head hurts like hell. But I enjoyed the speech, Owe.”

“I’m your uncle?”Oh. So that’s what was bothering him. Izzy could have done a lot of things at this moment to assuage Eibhear’s annoyance. A lot of things.She didn’t do any of them.Instead she said, “Well…you are my uncle.” She brushed a bit of nonexistent dirt off his bare shoulder. “And I was your ward until years later when you finally had your vile, dirty uncle way with me.””Izzy.”

“He smiled at her. “Now, are you going to thank me properly?”“I said ‘thank you.’ That’s considered in some cultures as thanking you properly.”“I was hoping for a little more than that.”She studied him for a long moment before she nodded.“All right.” She scooted down a bit on the bed, pulled her gown up high on her thighs, and relaxed back into the mattress. “If you could make it quick before the food gets here, that would be great.”Gwenvael felt a small twitch beneath his eye. He often got something similar right on his eyelid but only when he had to deal with his father. Apparently a new one had developed that belonged only to Lady Dagmar. “That’s not what I meant.”“I hope you’re not expecting me to get on my knees because I don’t think the healer—”“No!” Good gods, this woman! “That’s not what I meant, either.”“That’s always what men mean when they ask to be thanked properly.”“Your world frightens me. I want us to be clear on that.” He leaned over and grabbed her waist, lifting her until her back again rested on the propped-up pillows.“I’m unclear as to what you want, then.”“A kiss,” he said, pulling her dress back down to her ankles. “A simple kiss.”

“He paused a moment, gazing in awe at the huge mass of buildings composing the castle. It stood close to the river, on either side and to the rear stretched the extensive park and gardens, filled with splendid trees, fountains and beds of brilliant flowers in shades of pink, crimson, and scarlet. The castle itself was built of pink granite, and enclosed completely a smaller, older building which the present Duke's father had considered too insignificant for his town residence. The new castle had taken forty years to build; three architects and hundreds of men had worked day and night, and the old Duke had personally selected every block of sunset-colored stone that went to its construction. 'I want it to look like a great half-open rose,' he declared to the architects, who were fired with enthusiasm by this romantic fancy. It was begun as a wedding present to the Duke's wife, whose name was Rosamond, but unfortunately she died some nine years before it was completed. 'never mind, it will do for her memorial instead,' said the grief-stricken but practical widower. The work went on. At last the final block was laid in place. The Duke, by now very old, went out in his barouche and drove slowly along the opposite riverbank to consider the effect. He paused midway for a long time, then gave his opinion. 'It looks like a cod cutlet covered in shrimp sauce,' he said, drove home, took to his bed, and died.”

“I said I was afraid and she told me to think about a time I felt brave and take that feeling into the situation with me. It worked. It helped.”Corinne leaned away from the Plexiglas, horrified.“Of course, since that time, I’ve learned much more about the technique,” her mother said. “I’ve learned to make it much more elegant, but the basics are still the same. Take that old calm, confident feeling with you into the new situation. I used it or a variant of it with clients all the time.” She knit her eyebrows, looking hard at Corinne. “I used it for evil during the kidnapping,” she said. “Now you can use it for good.”