Selys was running late! She?d been working on a special project for the better part of a year now, and she was SO close to resolving the problem with the membrane that would make the binary systems work. The chemistry required was innovative stuff that required precision processes unlike anything she?d ever worked with before, but the reward had been an inert, monoclinic membrane that would tear under specific circumstances and allow the binary liquids to merge. She was very excited and so close to being able to manufacture the polymer in sufficient quantities to make it a viable solution to her project that she?d completely forgotten about the time, and her agreement to meet friends for dinner and theater tonight. It was Alan?s birthday, and her small group of friends was taking him for a night on the town. It was the first time she?d agreed to go out since Robert had dumped her eight weeks earlier.

A long sigh escaped her as she began to shut down the computers. ?That really sounds horrible,? she thought, but in essence, that?s precisely what Robert had done to her. They?d been seeing one another for over a year, and she thought their relationship was solid and open, but for the last several weeks, he?d been growing more and more distant. Robert had skipped out on a couple of meetings with her with no notice and no explanation. He?d kept her in a state of doubt and confusion as if they?d been riding some sick kind of roller coaster, but every time she?d asked him what was wrong, he?d smile and tell her ?nothing? but the turmoil continued. Or, he?d say, ?I?ll tell you shortly, but it?s not you.? She gave a short bark of something that might pass for a laugh. Well, he certainly had told her shortly. He?d been seeing another woman and eight weeks ago, he finally managed to be open enough to dump her for Susan. He still hadn?t actually told her, he?d made her guess. She?d poured out her heart and soul to him, been understanding, tried to excuse his bad behavior, and in the end, her initial fears proved accurate. He had another love interest.

Alan called Robert an emotional vampire, and Selys thought about that as the systems shut down and logged off for the night. ?Yeah, he kept her always on the edge of either tremendous highs of happiness, or verging on the depths of doubt and loneliness before he finally managed to dump her with all of the consideration the mythical vampire gave any of his victims. Tossed her aside like a used food wrapper and moved on.? She frowned at her reflection in the computer screen. ?Emotional vampire or not, I?d welcome him back with open arms if he showed up on my doorstep, now just how sick is that?? She demanded of her reflection. He?d fed on her emotional turmoil and she adored him still. That too was like a vampire of mythology she mused, the victims always adored their attacker! She glanced at the time, ?DAMN!?

Selys pulled open her closet and stood looking at her options. Originally she?d planned to wear the black crepe and lace cocktail dress, but hanging next to that was the intriguing watered silk gown that she?d felt compelled to purchase the week before. She pulled the hangar from the bar and studied the elegant lilac silk creation; that was unlike anything else in her closet. It was much too elegant and formal, it wasn?t something she would wear often enough to justify the price she?d paid for it, but when she?d seen it, she couldn?t let it go. It spoke to her on a level she couldn?t explain. Then on a whim, she decided it was more appropriate for tonight. If she had to dress in a hurry, she may as well look like she?d spent forever getting ready. Besides, the theater was formal enough to justify a long dress if she chose to wear one.

The pale lilac silk dropped over her head and flowed down her body in a cool, sensuous slide before it swirled gently at her ankles. Silk always caressed her as nothing else in the world, and she loved the feel of it against her skin. She peered into the mirror where a stranger reflected back at her. This was Selys rather than Doctor Iseri, and it was a side of her that seldom came out to be seen, even by herself. Deep olive skin and dark brunette hair accented the pale delicacy of the silk. Large velvet brown, almond shaped eyes were almost too large, and were framed by long, dark lashes that really didn?t require mascara to highlight their length. Her shoulders were bare as the off the shoulder straps draped delicately around her arms. The back was low cut, down below her waist as the silk cascaded to the floor behind her. In front, the skirt rose sharply and asymmetrically toward her left hip, leaving one leg nearly bare, and the other mostly hidden by the long drape of the gown. Selys pulled her shoulder length hair off her neck experimentally before she pinned it up loosely with tendrils of loose curls framing her face. She paused and canted her head to study her image in the mirror. This woman didn?t look anything like the usually serious Dr. Iseri, who wore suits and pulled her hair back severely. The dress was stunning, but it needed a touch of sparkle, jewelry to set off its delicate coloring.

The amethyst teardrop necklace set in platinum had once belonged to her mother, and it was the perfect accompaniment for the lilac silk. It drew Selys like a magnet when nothing else in her jewelry box could. She pulled the necklace from her jewelry chest and paused to nip her lower lip. Selys?d never worn this necklace since her mother had gone missing and finally been declared dead several years ago. She?d been alone since then, well, until Robert entered her life. Selys wondered briefly why tonight seemed to demand that she look her very best, but there wasn?t time to analyze the possibilities. She unclasped the heavy pendant and slipped it around her throat as the cool stone nestled into her cleavage. She added a diamond and amethyst tennis bracelet and her mother?s rings before she decided she was ready.

Selys grabbed her ID and shoved it into a small beaded purse before she headed back down to the lobby. She?d hire a car to take her directly to the restaurant instead of taking the shuttle. With any luck, she?d only be ten minutes late. The doorman flagged one of the hired luxury sedans that sat parked in front of the complex for her, and she directed the driver to the restaurant on the other side of town. Dinner reservations at Dominik?s had been secured by Reece weeks earlier. The chef at Dominik?s was well known and the restaurant was packed continuously. Getting in was a major accomplishment these days. It took thinking in advance and hoping the day you wanted wasn?t already booked.

She checked the mirror as the driver negotiated early evening traffic, skirting some of the most heavily laden intersections via shortcuts that only a hired driver would possibly know. She pulled her phone from the small purse and used the voice speed dial to call Adam. ?Alan? This is Selys, I?m afraid I?m running late?..yes, I?ll be there shortly, please tell Natalie and Reece I?m sorry to hold things up.? She listened briefly, ?OK, see you in about ten minutes, order a drink for me.? She ended the call just as the limousine entered the intersection on a green light.

Lights erupted blindingly close through her window as a large SUV came careening through the intersection without slowing and broadsided her vehicle. Glass shattered and time switched into slow motion as her door collapsed inward behind a spray of sharp glass fragments, as the heavily tinted safety glass exploded inward with the forces so abruptly applied to the car?s rear door. Tires screamed in protest, but they couldn?t stop the dark blue SUV in time to prevent the devastating impact that buckled the crash bar in the door. The limousine skidded sideways from the high-speed collision before it rolled onto its side, teetered there a moment, and then overbalanced to turn over onto the roof with a crunching thud. Her world turned upside-down before it went black.

Tangible blackness swallowed Selys in those slow motion seconds. Her shocked mind struggled with the astonishment of the impact and the realization that her car had rolled onto its roof. She was suspended from the backseat by the seatbelt that dug into her waist and shoulder painfully and she blindly reached for the release to free herself before she was enveloped in swirling blackness, unable to see anything, nor could she hear anything other than the roar of a ferocious wind somewhere in the distance. Was she dead? The sensation of swirling ended abruptly as her body slammed into something hard and nothing more registered as her breath was knocked from her lungs.

Cold weather, biting winds, and the hard work of climbing the mountains should rid his mind of the temptress! Lassadar studied Teth as they paused to catch their breaths in the icy wind. Teth?s fur insulated him from the worst of the cold, but even he felt the sting of the wind. Snow and ice crystals glittered in the animal?s fur when the sun?s rays flashed through the scuttling clouds. Lassadar lifted his obsidian eyes toward the approaching summit. Just out of his line of sight was a hollowed tube of rock. Once, the mountain had burned, and poured its heart as a molten liquid through the tube, and then cooled to form a hard crust that was lifted high where it now reigned above the surrounding lands. The gods had spoken when they created this place. The place the sorcerers of Mirzam called home. It was a place he came to often enough, but not usually this late in the year.

Lassadar felt certain the mystery of the woman would be revealed to him here.

Teth whined softly and Lassadar rose. They should make the summit before the sun dropped too low to see where they were going. An unwary step could result in a plummet to the rocks a thousand feet below, and even Lassadar knew he couldn?t survive that kind of fall. They scrambled up the last fifty feet in time to see the sun sink over the western peaks.

Teth stood beside Lassadar seeming to stare at the sunset as darkness invaded the land. Overhead, the waxing gibbous moon began its march across the heavens, providing enough light for Lassadar to see the entrance to the lava tube where he and Teth would seek refuge from the incessant winds, and with luck, start a fire and eat warm food tonight. Teth?s tail wagged slightly as though he could read the sorcerer?s mind and was in complete accord as both turned away from the flaming colors of the sunset.

The wind died instantly as they entered the low opening. A small fire would be welcome and Lassadar set down the pack he?d been carrying against the cold, stone, walls before pulling a bit of kindling from the bundle. He inscribed a small circle and laid the kindling into the center before uttering the spell that lit the dry plants into a small flicker of flame. The golden flames danced and played inside the circle, but never consumed the kindling, as they grew slightly stronger under the watchful eyes of the sorcerer. Once Lassadar was satisfied with his fire, he pulled the small carcass of a hare from the pack and prepared to cook it.

Teth watched hopefully as the sorcerer spitted the hare. He preferred his meals raw, but his master didn?t see the benefits of eating the hare as it should be devoured. He sat with ears perked as the sorcerer worked. An occasional lick of his muzzle was the only sign that the canid was growing impatient. Lassadar?s eyes never slid toward Teth, but he knew the canid was intently watching every move he made. It had been a long day, and they were both tired and hungry.

?I know old friend, yours is coming,? Lassadar crooned to him in Gaelic. He propped the hare over the flames before delving once more into the pack and retrieving a second, smaller hare and offering it to the canid. Teth?s tail thumped the ground as he rose and snagged the carcass from the sorcerer and retreated to a further corner to consume his meal for the night.

Teth froze in his tracks as they were about to reach the trees. His ears pricked to the sides as he listened, and Lassadar slowed and crouched low to listen. The canid alerted on strange people in the trees ahead, and the hair on the back of the dog slowly rose. Lassadar could hear whispers, but see no movement. The Gaelic burr was highland, but the voices weren?t ones Lassadar recognized. Someone was trespassing on Alraith lands, and that meant trouble. Either they?d come marauding for sheep and cattle, or they?d come for him. This high into the mountains, it was likely the latter option.

He studied the landscape with a practiced eye, he was in the open, and rocks were his only cover. They?d chosen their ambush spot well, they had the advantage of thick underbrush and spotty growth of trees to conceal themselves in and hide their numbers while he and Teth had little more than rocks and scree. Lassadar motioned to Teth to stay where he was, and the great dog dropped into a sit as the sorcerer slid behind the closest rock to drop his pack and unsheathe the broadsword. Then on feet too silent for climbing over scree and loose boulders, he slid along the tree line for about a hundred yards before moving into the low scrub that delineated their return to the lower alpine environment.

Lassadar found the first two crouched behind a broken evergreen, watching the path that he and Teth had been following. Each had a long knife drawn as they awaited his appearance along the trail. Without a second thought, he struck swiftly and silently with the broadsword, dropping both men into the gorse with nary a gurgle to give away his presence. There were at least two others on the other side he judged; two on either side of the path was the most logical attack scenario. He listened attentively as he studied the two dead men before him. They weren?t wearing the colors of any of the highland clans near Alraith. In fact, he didn?t recognize them in leather trousers and rough linen shirts.

A twig snapped across the way, just out of his sight, and he heard Teth rumble a low, warning growl. He heard low whispers, there were three hidden across the way. Lassadar moved silently down-slope before he crossed the path well below where the others where hidden and where they would not be scanning. Silently he climbed toward the others hidden in the gorse. The three burst from the bushes with swords drawn as Lassadar stepped onto the path and demanded to know who they were.

When the apparent leader lunged for Lassadar, Teth moved with the coiled spring that carried him with a crash into the attacker closest to him. The great dog?s massive jaws closed around the man?s throat, crushing his windpipe with effortless ease.

Lassadar?s broadsword flashed with a quick thrust that impaled the brigand. Shock crossed his features before the light faded from his eyes and he crumpled to the bracken. The third attacker turned to run as Lassadar pulled the broadsword free from the body at his feet. His black gaze following the hasty retreat as he drew the ley powers from the ground. Lifting his right hand, he focused the power into a snapping blue-fire that he cast at the retreating man. A high-pitched scream erupted when the blue-fire slammed into the assailant, and then he collapsed into the golden bracken as his heart exploded in his chest.

Teth stood over the corpse of the man he?d killed as Lassadar searched each for something to identify them. A clan affiliation, anything that would clue him in to who they were, and why they?d been there waiting for him to return from the mountains. But they had come with only weapons and clothing that gave nothing away. He frowned. He had enough enemies to last a lifetime, but most of them were overt about their hatred of what he was. Lassadar studied the skies and whistled for Teth. There was no time to bury them, and so he called once again upon the magic of the land.

Fire engulfed all five of the bodies. It burned hot and fast, and would leave only charcoal when it was finished.

Lanal stood near the great hearth with a mug of heather mead in each hand, ?Welcome back,? he said simply as Lassadar tossed his cloak to a servant and reached for the mug. Lanal still saw the haunted look in his laird?s dark eyes. ?A bheil an t-acras ort?? The man probably hadn?t eaten well for the weeks that he was gone, and perhaps a meal and some mead would get his brother to open up and speak about what still troubled him. He looked as though he?d not slept for days, and Lanal suspected that he?d not eaten much either during that time.

Lassadar took a long pull of mead, ?No, I need to prepare for tomorrow.? The sorcerer stared into the flames for several minutes before he spoke again. ?There are five bodies along the Kayleertud trail. I don?t know who they are; they ambushed me on the way home. See what news them drifts in the wind.?

Lanal frowned but nodded. He?d see the guards sent men to inquire after the varlets quickly, and with luck, they?d learn something soon. Then he settled onto a chair opposite the sorcerer. ?I?ve taken the liberty of having the vale prepared for tomorrow.? He watched Lassadar closely as he laid out the ceremonial preparations, the hauling of the ritual logs to the pyre, the construction of the wicker figure that would be lit and the sacrifices to be offered to the spirits. Through it all, the Laird simply listened. He was distracted and deep in his own thoughts Lanal reflected silently.

Lassadar nodded and rose, leaving Lanal in mid description. He made his way into the darkness again, walking the trail to the lake. He knew this path by heart; he could walk it blindfolded. Tomorrow the people would bring their offerings to the spirits, he would bless them, and in a show of propitiation, they would light the bonfire at dusk, and then the Wicker man, filled with the prisoners and murderers. He frowned. The old Celtic heritage was strongly ingrained into his people. Lassadar wasn?t convinced that the dead would spill into the world of the living without his part in the ritual, but his people believed, and that made it critical that he preside over the whole series of events.

Lassadar stood in the clearing where the Wicker man now stood fully constructed. It towered about four meters into the air. It had a single opening just large enough for the eight condemned men to climb into the structure. It would be closed up with more logs and branches before it was set ablaze with the bonfire at the appropriate time tomorrow night.

He gave a wry smile to the darkness as he wondered why the dark held such sway over magic and superstition. The darkness had a death-grip on people?s psyche and imaginations so strong that he doubted time would ever erase it. He was the only person he knew that did not fear the night. There was great irony in that realization. Lassadar actually found more power for his magic in the rising of the sun. That was when his powers were at their zenith, but tomorrow night, he would use the presence of the moon so close with the influence of the autumnal equinox to summon his woman to him. She?d defied him for too long, and he would wait no more. The images demanded that he act, or she would die, or so his intuition told him. Lassadar long ago learned to trust his instincts.

He left the clearing near the lake. Dawn was several hours away, and a little sleep sounded like a good idea.

Alraith awoke to a world of white. Hoar frost covered everything in a crystalline beauty as the pale sun rose above the weathered peaks. Delicate ice crystals glittered and shimmered in the weak light of the autumnal equinox. Every tree, shrub and dying blade of grass glistened with the frost as Lassadar moved through the courtyard. It was as beautiful as the kingdom of the Seelies, he thought as he paused just outside the heavy iron grate that protected the main entrance of the fortress. As far as he could see, the world sported a pristine coating of glistening blue-white ice.

The tiny crystals crunched beneath his boots as he walked down to the lake?s shore. He startled a family of loons that had been floating lazily on the surface of the water. Steam rose around them, giving the entire surface of the lake an ethereal feeling. The water was not warm by any stretch of imagination, but it was several degrees warmer than the autumn air. The hoar frost around the lake was thicker and drew most of the color from the world, leaving only hints of color, which fit with the passage into a Seelie realm. Magic, it clung to this part of the world. Lassadar could always feel the undercurrents of ley energies here at the lake. He stood for nearly an hour soaking in the power he would need for the rituals. The equinox rituals and festivities drew every soul in Alraith to the trilithon in the valley. He could already hear the heralds announcing the order of activities, and colorful tents of vendors created a lane that lead toward the wicker figure and the wood piled high for the bonfire.

Lassadar?s thoughts were not on today. He mused the wisdom of his plans to summon her to him tonight, after the fires burned low and most departed to seek their beds. Bringing her here despite the fact that she?d denied him for months, and now he suspected that he knew why she?d refused him. The tall male, she loved him, that much was very clear, but he?d left her in pain. He?d left her to suffer. It was the fact that she DID suffer that threatened his resolve. He was no closer to an answer this morning than he?d been last night.

Lanal found the Laird standing motionless at the edge of the lake. He approached slowly to avoid interrupting Lassadar as long as he could, waiting until those obsidian eyes turned toward him. What Lanal saw stopped his breath. He?d seen Lassadar draw power from the land before, and he?d seen the effects of that power many times before today, but this was unlike anything he?d witnessed. The man?s eyes were entirely black, as though made of pure obsidian stone. No white showed at all, but there was life there, and power. It sizzled in the air around him, and if possible, power gave a sheen to the black that fairly glowed. Lanal took a step back as Lassadar turned those alien eyes on him.

?What brings you here Lanal?? Lassadar knew the effects, and regretted causing such unease in his brother, but it was the price of interrupting a sorcerer at work.

Lanal swallowed hard and tried to appear to look at his brother without holding his gaze, ?Do you want the condemned men to be drugged for tonight?s ceremonies?? Lanal knew that he would want to face his execution alert, but many criminals were cowards to begin with, and many begged for oblivion of the poppy before entering the wicker figure that would burn around them.

Lassadar shook his head, ?No, let them meet their gods with a clear mind.?

Lanal nodded and retreated back the way he?d come. The sun had risen high enough that most of the hoar frost melted away to reveal the colors of autumn once more. His job was to oversee the mundane affairs of the day, and it looked like it was going to be a glorious day indeed.

A destrier isn?t a breed of horse, but is a type of horse. They are the finest and strongest of the warhorses, and almost always were stallions that where selected at birth to be raised for the needs of war. They must have powerful hindquarters that would allow them to easily coil and spring to stop, spin, turn or sprint forward at the needs of his rider. Their backs must be short with well muscled loins, and their bones must be very strong. A well arched neck was required, as was a strong, wide jaw and good width between the eyes. These horses were the powerful ally of their rider, and were trained to charge into battle with no fear of noise or the scent of blood. Finding all of these traits in one animal was a rare thing Lanal mused as he studied the four horses to be auctioned today.

Horse breeders often experimented with different breeds and crosses to find the best resulting offspring to create this specialized animal.

There were another four or five horses that looked more like coursers and rounceys, which served as war horses for poorer knights. These were smaller, and didn?t usually carry the heavy armor plating that a destrier did. They were finer boned, and didn?t have as much muscle as a true destrier. There were several heavy riding horses tied to the fence, and didn?t seem to have the desire to bite anyone who ventured too close.

In a paddock separated from the war horses were about twenty palfreys and work horses. He heard the horse marshal tell a prospective buyer that the white horse was a sumpter horse, suited only for pack hauling. To Lanal, the horse looked old and worn out, and he felt sorry for the creature.

Lanal kept walking past the corrals on toward the line of tents. There was every imaginable item along the walk. Textiles, pottery, pigs and sheep to be sold, even the blacksmith set up a stall to display dirks and iron work that he hoped to sell before winter. Lanal paused to study a concealable dirk. Most warriors carried hidden blades, and this one was especially well balanced. He haggled with Simon for long minutes until they reached an agreeable price. Lanal gave him a wink and moved along as he slid the dirk into the folds of his kilt.

Several food stalls littered the way, and the scents of roasting meat began to fill the air. Lanal?s stomach growled and he stopped to garner a leg of fowl and mug of mead from Chaeish?s tent. He straddled a bale of hay and sat down to watch people pass by as he consumed his lunch.

People were passing him laden with goods, and Lanal thought that auspicious for a good harvest festival. Even the old herb seller had several people in front of her tent. He gave a contented sigh as he finished his mead and rose.

A collective gasp of awe swept through the crowd as Lassadar appeared beneath the cross stone of the trilithon. The Mirzam sorcerer was cloaked in dark blue. The hood of the cloak covered his head, and cast his face in inscrutable shadows, but his hands were clearly visible as he held aloft a two meter wooden staff of burlwood. Afixed to one end of the staff was a perfect quartz crystal that glowed with the power Lassadar controlled. His robes were embroidered with arcane symbols that glimmered with power in the gloaming as Lassadar commanded the undivided attention of everyone in the valley.

As everyone went silent, Lassadar spoke to the assemblage of his vassals. ?Tonight is the sacred joint of the year where we honor those who have gone before us into death?s veil. They peer back at us on this night, judging our actions and deeds with the emotionless judgment only death can provide. Have you honored them with your actions? Will you honor them in the coming seasons with your deeds? This is your charge and challenge as laid down by our ancestors for centuries past. This is your mandate for the years to come.? The hooded figure seemed to slowly turn and study every inch of ground where his people waited in rapt attention. He missed not a soul as he remained silent in his perusal of each person in attendance. At length, his voice reverberated across the vale, ?We now light the ceremonial fires, and provide feasts for the dead.?

As Lassadar spoke, the assembled bonfire burst into flames, startling the attendants who waited beside the logs for a signal to light them. Lanal hid a smile; Lassadar was giving special emphasis tonight to his people by using his magic to light the bonfire. A collective gasp rippled through the crowd as orange and yellow flames licked greedily at the logs. Behind the fire, the condemned men began to wail. They knew the meaning of this fire, and their lives have come down to minutes remaining to them.
Lassadar remained beneath the cross stone as his command rang out, ?Bring forth the condemned.?

Prison guards unlocked the wagon and led forth the eight condemned men, who either dropped to their knees before Lassadar, or were forced to their knees as needed. Lassadar?s hooded form looked distinctly like death?s representative as the faceless form studied each man in turn. ?You have been condemned to death for the crimes you have committed in this realm. Tonight, your bodies will cease to exist, and you are herewith fated to roam the realms of the dead without form, or substance, as you burn within the Wicker Man. May you die with honor that you lacked in life.?

The guards forced all eight to their feet and led them to the wicker figure. They were forced inside the dry frame and crowded tightly into the ?torso? of the figure that would shortly burn hotly enough to consume the bodies of the condemned.

Lassadar watched from his place as the door was sealed and the guards turned toward him to wait for the signal to light the figure with torches. The sorcerer lifted his face to the sky, waiting for the right moment. A cloud slid between the moon and the valley, dimming the light substantially. Lassadar nodded to the guards, and each one set a torch to the legs of the wicker figure. Fire licked greedily into the dried wicker and fine branches, growing quickly and reaching for the torso of the huge structure. The men inside began to scream as flames engulfed the structure, but the crowd watched in rapt attention, many cheering as the men inside suffered. This was justice for the people of Alraith. These men had raped their daughters, killed their families, and tonight they met their fates for those actions. Brutal? Yes, but no less deserved for the actions they?d committed.

Fire blazed a path upward to the head of the wicker man and the screaming stopped right before the legs gave way, and the structure began to crumble into an unrecognizable pile of burning debris. Lanal shuddered. Dying in a burning structure with family and neighbors looking on was not his idea of a good way to die. But, it served a powerful purpose in the highlands, and he suspected that Lassadar snuffed their lives in mercy without too many even noticing that the men died rather quickly for all the screaming that came from the burning structure. As Lanal turned toward the trilithon, he wasn?t surprised to find his brother vanished. The ceremonies were complete, and all that remained was for the fires to die down and the people to seek their pallets for the night.

Selys tasted blood before the seatbelt dug violently into her shoulders and waist as the car settled upside down, and the violent restraint threatened to knock her breath from her lungs. She reached for the buckle, ready to release it when a wave of water washed through the car?s broken windows and she heard the sound of collapsing metal as the weight of the limousine coupled with the SUV became too much for the structure and it collapsed atop her. She?d been slammed hard into a wall and all she knew was darkness, water, and cold.

Lassadar?s hands clung to her, pulling her up toward him from the depths of the lake until she was there, just below the surface of the water. It was then that he knelt down and gathered him up into his arms, securing her before he uttered the final word of his spell. Only then did he raise her from beneath the water, free of that other place and time. Free from the crushing death his visions had warned him about.

The power demand had drained him, and he let himself simply stand in the water and the moonlight for a long moment and hold her in his arms. His eyes forgot the scenery around him, even the moon was forgotten as he gazed upon this woman of his dreams. He studied every nuance of her face in a split second before he turned for the shore with her.

Selys coughed and struggled in the darkness as something clutched at her and then held her still. She tried to open her eyes, but water made sight impossible. She choked as she couldn?t breathe or see, and more terrifyingly, she couldn?t move. Abruptly, she was free of the water and she half coughed, half gasped for air. She blinked hard as she stared upward into a night sky devoid of city lights, and a moon too big to be real? but it wasn?t the missing city in the background that terrified her. Selys found herself wrapped in the arms of the most gorgeous man she?d ever seen. The problem was, he was the same one she?d been seeing in her dreams ever since Robert deserted her!

Lassadar hadn?t missed the flash of terror that marred her beautiful face, but his eyes continued to look down at her as he noted each feature despite the fact that his mind already knew them so well. His face slowly drew into a soft frown as he noted the cuts and bruises that marred her perfect skin, but still he said not a word to her as they reached the shore and dry land. He kept her there in his arms and his eyes never left hers as he settled her on the dry grass as he knelt there at her side. His fingers gently touched each mark he found as he called again upon the land to coerce her flesh to mend itself back together, and for the blood that pooled in each bruise to return to its gentle flow within the mending vessels. He could not bear to see her torn and bleeding.

Selys froze. Was she dead? Was this how angels ferried souls into the beyond? He was too perfect, and the surrounding darkness and silence convinced her that she was truly dead. He carried her toward the shore, and a fleeting thought flitted through her dazed mind, ?Was this the River Styx?? She found enough breath to ask, ?Am I dead??

There was a soft curve that came to the edges of his lips as her voice sang to him. Her voice, he was hearing it for the first time, but it was smooth as velvet as it wrapped around him, and he wanted to hear her voice for the rest of his days. He shook his head slightly, his mind finally catching hold that it was a question she?d asked of him, ?No, you are not dead.?

Selys struggled to sit up, but Lassadar wasn?t finished, and he placed his hand in the center of her chest to hold her where she was. ?Shh, I am not finished.? He continued to mend each rent in her skin. He couldn?t finish his work out here, but once he got her into the Keep, he?d remove her clothing and inspect the rest of her for damage.

Selys wasn?t used to being restrained and told to ?shush? like a truculent child. She shot him a glare and reached for his wrist with both hands, intent upon casting off his offending hand. ?How dare you?? she managed as she tried to throw his hand to the side, but for all of her efforts, she didn?t manage to dislodge him even for a moment. Now she was angry, ?Let go of me this instant!? She began to squirm in effort to escape his hold on her.

Lassadar frowned. He wasn?t used to being told no, and he certainly wasn?t used to being given orders by any man, not to even broach the idea that a woman would try to give him an order. He paused briefly, sliding black eyes back to her rich brown ones. ?You are injured and I will heal you before we return to the Keep, but for the moment, I would have your name.?

Selys wasn?t having any success in freeing herself and she stilled as she looked up at him again. He was simply the most gorgeous man she?d ever seen, but she must be dreaming again because men like this just didn?t exist in the world, and besides, it wasn?t possible to dream up someone and have them become reality. She also recognized that she was no longer down town amidst the traffic where she?d?. she paused. Where she?d what? Images of the SUV flashed through her mind as she remembered the accident. Then she shot her gaze back to Lassadar. ?Who are you and where am I? How long was I unconscious??

He chuckled low and sensuously. ?I believe lassie that I asked you first for your name.?

Selys blushed as his laughter caressed her senses like fine silk. ?Selys Iseri, Doctor Selys Iseri,? she told him as she blushed at her rudeness, and maybe just a little at her reaction to this stranger. ?I?m sorry, but you can?t just hold me down, I want to sit up and talk to you like an equal and find out just what?s happened here.? She was at a distinct disadvantage laying there in the grass with a stranger towering above her.

Lassadar smiled broadly as he tried out her name, ?Selys, I like that, it flows like a fine wine does.? He had absolutely no idea what a Doctor was, but it didn?t matter, he had a name for his dream woman, and it was Selys. ?Come, the hour grows late, and you?ve disturbed my sleep long enough.? He leaned forward as he was about to scoop her up again when she rolled away from him the instant his hand left her chest.

Selys was on her feet quickly, but wound up back on the ground in a heap for her trouble. She?d have died from her injuries if Lassadar hadn?t reached for her when he had, but she didn?t know that. She held up a hand to fend him off as he scrambled after her, ?Who are you? And where the devil am I?? Her hair was coming down around her, and the beautiful silk gown was utterly ruined by the accident, blood, and then the lake water, and she wanted explanations. She had no intentions of going anywhere until she got them. ?And what do you mean I?ve disturbed your sleep?? Selys frowned deeply; he?d been in her dreams, not the other way around.

Lassadar sat back onto his heels and silently regarded her. ?I am Lassadar Mac Larchir, Laird of Alraith, Sorcerer of Mirzam, and you are at the lake closest to my home.? He lowered the hood of his cloak to allow the moonlight to dance in his black hair, and to give her a better look at his face.

Selys went very still. She didn?t need to see him any better, she knew every line in his face, the arch of his eyebrows, and the profile of his jaw. What brought her up short was his announcement that he was Laird of someplace she?d never heard of, and he actually claimed to be a sorcerer! She decided the accident must have knocked her silly.