62
In a series of jumps, Rune took them across Spain, through France and then over the English Channel. From there, they made their way to Wales. And Haven.
On the evening of the thirtieth day, Teresa stood in the circle of Rune’s arms and looked up at the stillmajestic walls of Manorbier castle. Holding the moonsphere in her cupped hands, Teresa felt the steadying presence of Rune beside her as her gaze touched on the familiar scene stretched out in front of her.
Clouds scudded across a sweep of blue sky. October winds soughed in off the sea. Bracken and ivy climbed the stones and the neatly tended grass was an otherworldly green in the soft light of dawn.
Memories poured through her as she listened to echoes of the past ring in her mind. Laughter. The clash of swords. Babies crying. And the chanting of her sisters. It was all there. Like a song fondly remembered.
“Are you all right?” Rune whispered, dipping his head to hers.
“I am,” she said, still cradling the moon-wrought sphere of power that encapsulated the black silver. “It’s just … weird. Feeling so at home in a place I’ve never been before.”
“Your soul recognizes this place, Teresa,” he told her in the quiet. “It is where you belong. Where we both belong.”
She looked up at him, into those gray eyes that softened with love and understanding, and she knew that no matter what Rune said, he was where she belonged. Wherever he was, that was her home.
Glancing toward the cloud-filled, lightening sky, with the sweep of coral and crimson staining the horizon, Teresa took a breath and said only, “Haven’s waiting for us.”
He draped one arm across her shoulders and walked beside her as she headed for the stone steps leading up to the castle proper.
She led them unerringly. Her mind and heart and soul remembered the way as they crossed what had once been the great hall and walked through into the chapel.
“The coven made its home in the chapel?” Rune asked, clearly surprised.
She looked up at him, confused. “You didn’t know?” “No. You and your sisters guarded Haven even from the Eternals.”
Teresa stopped, looked around her at the stone walls sweeping up to highly arched ceilings. The stones themselves seemed to pulse with power, with magic, and she felt the rise of it inside her. As she turned to smile up at her mate, she could only say, “I’m sorry. For who I was then. For what I cheated us out of.”
“No,” Rune told her, cupping her face in his palms. “There is no need for apologies, Teresa. The past is dust. And the future is ours. At last.”
She smiled as a wash of love, deep and rich and pure, rose up inside her. How had she lived her life without him? How had she ever given him up so long ago? That was a mystery she might never resolve, Teresa thought. But he was right. The past was gone, dust in the pages of history. What mattered was now. Who they were, what they did.
Shifting the moonsphere into the palm of one hand, she linked her free hand with his and threaded their fingers together in a sign of solidarity. Then she continued to the far end of the chapel where a solid stone wall stood. She didn’t glance at the faded glories of the paintings still hanging in place. Instead, she released his hand, laid her palm flat on the cold gray stones and whispered, “Haven.”
An opening appeared in the wall and Teresa smiled, took Rune’s hand again and together, they stepped into the dimly lit darkness. Instantly, the wall behind them sealed and they were left standing in a cavernous room.
Flaming torches set into silver brackets mounted on the surrounding walls threw dancing shadows and light across the interior. The walls themselves shone and glittered as the firelight touched the veins of silver embedded in the stone.
Teresa sighed and felt the soft push of power slide into her system. Silver enhanced an earth witch’s power and these veins that sparkled and shone were incredibly rich. Her gaze tracked over the symbols carved into the stone and outlined in silver. She knew them all. Her memory was clear at last and the sight of this chamber filled her with a sense of peace she had never known. All around her were carved symbols of power, of magic, of the coven that had once called this Haven home.
There were pentagrams and the sacred circle that