Belladonna

eyes before Brighid recognized her and relaxed.
    "I'm thinking the sun has been up quite some time in Elandar, and my body still answers to that sunrise instead of when the sun awakes here," Brighid replied as her hands worked a mound of dough.
    "Yes, the sun is on the other side of dawn over there."
    "I missed the songs," Brighid said quietly. "Lighthaven is a beautiful place, but the only thing I truly missed was the songs that marked the points of the day, the cycle of the moon, the turning of the seasons."
    "What kind of songs?" Glorianna asked, slipping into a chair by the table where Brighid worked.
    "Chants, mostly. Not what most people would consider singing,"
    "What kind of chants?"
    Brighid hesitated, then sang very softly:
    " We lift our voices to the Light.
    We lift our faces to the Light.
    We give our spirits to the Light,
    To shine in us forever."
    "You don't sing those songs anymore?" Glorianna asked.
    Brighid shrugged. She set the dough in a bowl and covered it with a cloth to let it rise. "Tried for a while when I first went to live in Raven's Hill. But it made me sad to sing them there, so I stopped. At Lighthaven, even if you were alone when it was time to call that part of the day, you knew other voices were rising with yours, saying the same words. Even if you couldn't hear them, you knew. There was comfort in that, peace in that."
    "You can sing them here," Glorianna said.
    "They aren't a tradition here."
    "If you don't share them, how can another heart embrace them?"
    Brighid looked at her for a long moment, then said, "A Guide of the Heart even for a Guardian of the Light?"
    Glorianna smiled. "Why not?"
    Brighid walked over to the counter. "Would you be wanting some of this koffee or has Michael enlightened your palate with a good cup of tea?"
    Tears stung her eyes. Emotions stormed through her. Just hearing his name rubbed her heart raw.
    "Ah, now. You've not had a parting of the ways, have you?" Brighid pulled up another chair, sat down, and took Glorianna's hands in hers.
    Not yet, she thought. Not quite yet.
    "He's a good man, Glorianna," Brighid said, her voice filled with earnest conviction. "I couldn't see it when I lived in Raven's Hill, and I'm sorry for that. I'm not saying there isn't a bit of Dark in him, because there is. Has to be with him being a Magician, But he has a good heart."
    "I don't want to love him," Glorianna whispered. "I think I do, am almost sure I do. But I don't want to."
    "Why ever not?"
    "Because there has to be a parting of the ways."
    "You don't think he could fit into your life?"
    "He could, yes." He already fit so well it was as if he'd always been there. And yet everything was new with him, and there was so much they didn't know about each other, about how it might be with each other.
    She didn't want to talk about Michael — didn't want to think about Michael. So she pulled her hands out of Brighid's and wiped away the tear that had dared spill over. "I know why the Places of Light need currents of Dark. Why do dark landscapes need currents of Light?"
    "For hope," Brighid said with such certainty Glorianna just stared at her. "Even a dark heart hopes its plans will succeed, that it will be the victor in the struggle against its adversaries. More than any other reason, that is why the Places of Light exist. Love, laughter, kindness, compassion. These feelings will take root in a heart on their own. But it is hope that flows through the currents of Light. Because without hope, those other seeds will never find fertile ground."
    "There are people who have no hope but are still able to love, to offer kindness and compassion."
    "A heart that stands deep in the Light can give those. And when it does, what is the seed that is planted in other hearts called?"
    "Hope," Glorianna whispered. "The seed is called hope."
    "Glorianna ..."
    She shook her head. Pushed her chair back. "I have to go." She pulled a folded, wax-sealed paper from her pocket. "Would you see that Yoshani gets that?" She waited for Brighid's nod, then hurried to the kitchen door. As she reached for the knob, she paused and looked back. "Travel lightly, Brighid."
    She hurried away from the guest house. There was only one person she wanted to see. Then she wanted the rest of the day to herself. With Michael.
    Surely one day wasn't too much to ask. Not when she was about to sacrifice the rest of her life.
    Brighid stood at the kitchen window for a long time. Still too dark to see outside, but that