Belladonna

said, sitting forward, "Every day, every person makes a hundred small choices. Most of them are not so clear-cut as choosing between Light and Dark. There is so much room in the gray spaces of the world. But when weighed at the end of the day, that heart leans a little more toward the Light or the Dark — and then resonates a little closer with the Light or the Dark. Make enough choices, one way or the other, and the day comes when you have grown beyond who you were and it's time to take the next step in your life's journey."
    "To cross over to another landscape, you mean?" Michael asked.
    "The world doesn't care if you call it crossing over to another landscape or if you believe a spirit will remove a key from your Heart and tell you to choose the lock that will open the door to the next stage of your life. What matters is that where you end up will match the resonance of your heart, good or bad, Light or Dark." She rested her forearms on her knees and clasped her hands loosely in front of her. Then she looked at each of them in turn. "Life journeys. On the way, you are influenced by others, helped by others, harmed by others. Some things happen because you have earned them. And some things happen because cruelty flickers through the Dark currents and rises up without warning, causing harm, causing pain, causing tragedies that can devastate one person or an entire village. What I feel in this room is a conflict of hopes and dreams and desires. No one who stood at that gate is innocent of shattering the White Isle. And no one is more to blame than the others. So many choices were made to bring you to this moment.
    Now that you know what your choices can do, make the next ones with care."
    She pushed up and went to the door.
    "What about you, Glorianna Belladonna?" Brighid asked. "Are you accepting responsibility for the choices you made?"
    Oh, the look in Glorianna's eyes when she said, "I always accept responsibility for my choices." Then she slipped out of the room and quietly closed the door.

Chapter Twenty-two
    M ichael spread the blanket at the top of a gentle slope that led down to the lake. Maybe he should have offered to set things up where there was a bit of shade, despite the coolness of the day, but right new he needed to feel the sun's warmth seeping into him, and despite being so fair-skinned, he didn't think Glorianna wanted to hide her face from the sun today either.
    "You're more practical than my brother," Glorianna said as she walked up to him, her saddlebags over one shoulder.
    "How so?" He smoothed the last corner, feeling more awkward than the first time he'd had a private picnic with a girl. Woman, really. She had been older than him and knew a few things he was more than willing to learn. Still, that first time with a new girl, when a boy wasn't sure if he'd get a hand cracked across his face or if the girl would smile and say "more," always made the heart beat a little harder.
    "Lee would have put the blanket on the slope and then gotten stubborn about moving it until he'd spilled something on himself. You chose flat ground."
    "I prefer eating food to wearing it." The image flashed into his mind, of him dipping his fingers into whipped cream and mounding it, ever so gently, over her bare breasts. No need to add a berry on top because the berry —
    "Are you all right?" Glorianna asked. "You look flushed."
    "I'm fine." He shifted on the blanket and sat in a way he hoped would hide just how fine he was feeling.
    She waited for a beat, then set the saddlebags down on the blanket. "Why don't you set out what's there while I get the rest."
    He winced at the tone but didn't offer to get up and help. Despite feeling troubled by what he had seen during their ride that morning, this was the first time they had been alone since he'd showed up on her island, and he was hoping for a little romance before they got back to Lighthaven's community. He didn't want to scare her off by having her notice just how ready he was for a little romance,
    "This is a clever idea," he said with hearty enthusiasm as he lifted the container of cold chicken out of one saddlebag, followed by the water skin that had been nestled beneath it. Judging by the way her eyebrows rose, maybe he'd sounded a bit too hearty.
    "Well, it is," he muttered.
    "No one has ever thought to fill up a water skin and put it in the ice house overnight, and then use it to keep food fresh when you're traveling?"
    "If someone has, I haven't heard of