Belladonna

and would turn a few female heads.
    But was it enough to turn Glorianna's head? They had the bed and the candlelight he wanted for their first lovemaking.
    He sighed. And they had a village full of chaperones. Added to that, Shaney's wife had put Glorianna in the room that had the squeaky floor, so a man couldn't even approach the door of the damn room without everyone in the main room below knowing about it. Hadn't he learned that for himself when he'd knocked on the door to see if Glorianna had everything she needed? There was no harm in a man enjoying a kiss, especially when he had sense enough to stay in the doorway. But Maeve, the postmistress, had come puffing up the stairs, then stood there and told him to get on with it so the girl could close her door and get a bit of rest before the evening's dancing.
    How did she expect him to get on with it, with her standing there tapping one foot and looking stern?
    Sebastian probably could have gotten on with it.
    "Put the ripe bastard right out of your head," Michael muttered to himself. "He didn't fare so well against his own auntie, now did he?"
    Cheered by that thought, he left his room, considered tapping on Glorianna's door, then went down to the main room to spare Maeve another run up the stairs since she seemed to be the one keeping guard.
    A day of simple pleasures, of light and laughter. A day when Glorianna could dance.
    So far, she'd had the light and the laughter. Now he'd give Glorianna Belladonna the music for the dance.
    * * *
    "You shouldn't have gone to so much trouble," Glorianna said as she helped set the tables.
    The Missus, as everyone seemed to call Shaney's wife, just tsked. "It's no trouble. Besides, we probably I won't see either of you again until after the wedding."
    Glorianna bobbled a dish and decided she'd helped enough. Besides, her knees had gone weak. "Wedding?"
    Maeve glanced at the Missus, and they both gave a sharp head bob.

    "Liked his kisses well enough, didn't you?" Maeve I said. "He's never been careless when it comes to the girls, but you have to figure a man like that has learned enough to know what to do when he's between the sheets."
    They were both looking at her expectantly. "Ah ..."
    "Where did you say you were from?" Maeve asked.
    "Aurora, wasn't it? A fair piece from here would you say?"
    "Um ..." Most likely it was a fair piece from here. Or as close as crossing a bridge. She just wasn't sure she should be the one to try to explain that. Especially now that she realized all the little comments about Michael that Maeve and the Missus had been tossing at her since she came downstairs weren't just little comments. More like what she'd expect doting aunts — or horse traders
    — to say when they were trying to sell a favorite nephew to a potential wife.
    Which was exactly what they were trying to do.
    Then she caught a movement on the stairs that led up to the rooms. Her legs folded, and it was sheer luck that she ended up halfway on a chair. "Oh, Guardians and Guides."
    No, she hadn't seen him to advantage. Even during the evening they'd all spent in the Den, she hadn't seen him for who he truly was.
    He'd shed the scruffy, friendly stranger along with the worn shirt and trousers he wore for traveling. He'd shed Michael in the same way she sometimes shed Glorianna, the part of her that had family and friends.
    The man who slowly walked toward her wasn't Michael. This was the ill-wisher, the luck-bringer who could command the currents of power that flowed through Ephemera. The Magician.
    The voices around them faded. Or maybe she just stopped paying attention to anything but him.
    I did this, she realized as she looked into his blue-gray eyes. I uncovered a veiled mirror and gave him a clear look at what he was, at who he could be. Guide of the Heart. I showed him the path. Now it's up to him to move on to the next stage of his journey.
    She stood to meet him. "Magician."
    People around them sucked in a breath, but he nodded. "That is what I am. Ill-wisher. Luck-bringer."
    "The one who keeps the currents of power balanced in your pieces of the world. The spirit who opens the Door of Locks.
    That's who we are, Michael. That's who we came from — and that's why we are still here, walking in the world."
    A tingle in the air between them, as if something was trying to get in.
    "It's time," Glorianna said softly.
    "It's time," she said, and her music was so beautiful and so bittersweet that it broke his heart.
    It was time