Belladonna

substantial as moonbeams.
    "This is where you belong" he said. "This is where you should be"
    "I can't."
    "You can" the lover said as his arms wrapped protectively around her. "I traveled a long way to find the treasure in my heart.
    Don't ask me to let it go."
    She felt him fade away, but the resonance that was Sebastian was still there, as strong as memories, as full of promise as a sunrise. And then ...
    Mist. And music. The bright notes of the whistle made her smile, and the drum heated her blood until her heart pounded with the rhythm.
    The music dimmed, as if someone had shut a door, and she stood outside in the mist. His arms closed around her, pulling her back against the warmth of his chest.
    She heard the drum in the beat of his heart, knew the bright notes of the whistle would be in his voice, in his laugh.
    "I can hear the music" she said. "I can hear the music inside you.
    The music flowed over her skin, sang in her blood, rang in the scarred hollow of her chest. She swallowed and tasted tears — and didn't know if they were her own or someone else's.
    Better to sleep. Just sleep. The music was a good dream. She could follow that dream and slip away forever.
    Except the Light was pouring out of the music, feeding the starved currents of this landscape. Waking the predators.
    She rolled onto her side and forced gummy eyes open to look in the direction of the fountain.
    Then she scrambled to her feet and stumbled toward the fountain and the patch of ground glowing with Light.
    "No," she moaned when she saw the heart's hope growing out of the sand. "Oh, no."
    The size of the plant was stunning enough, but it was the flowers that made the heart ache in wonder. They ranged from white as pure as hope to the deep red of passion.
    The Warrior of Light must drink from the Dark Cup. She remembered that now — remembered what she had done. The Warrior of Light must drink from the Dark Cup, and turn away from the Light forever. But the Light rang in her now. Rang, sang, pulled with the need to put two halves back together to make a whole.
    Here here here, Ephemera called. This way.
    She looked around. Her old garden. At the school. The one she had escaped from when the Dark Guides had tried to seal her in. Ephemera had come to her that day, too.
    Heart's wish! This way!
    "Pushy little world," she muttered.
    She felt the change inside her. Had felt it starting when the resonances and memories set their hooks into her savaged heart. A tiny flicker of Light that held a promise. And music.
    Just a step would take her between here and there. But ... where? She was no longer sure who she was or where she truly belonged.
    She stared at the heart's hope — and remembered two men m a dream.
    "Take it back," she said firmly. "Take the heart's hope back where you found it."
    Heart's wish. Ephemera sounded wistful.
    "When the heart's hope is back where it belongs, I'll go where you need me to go."
    Yes yes yes!
    The heart's hope disappeared, leaving only a square of sand in a nimbus of Light.
    Something tugged at her from the access point Ephemera had created. Pulled at her.
    She had a sudden image of a stretchy band pulled to its fullest. A big ball of Light was at one end; she was at the other. When the band snapped back ...
    "Guardians and Guides, this is going to hurt."
    She hesitated. Pain in staying, pain in going.
    But something made her hesitate.
    In Ephemera, there were few secrets of the heart. And even that heart couldn't remain hidden now. Not from her.
    She walked back to the ragged blanket she had found somewhere, then pressed her fingers against the ground beneath one corner.
    Ephemera, hear me.
    Assured that the world would obey, she walked back to the square of sand and took the step between here and there.
    * * *
    Light!
    Barely more than a flicker now, but reason enough to race ahead of whatever else might want to destroy that flicker.
    Then It hesitated. There had been a place in the landscape that had been so Dark it had not quite existed with the rest of the school. Her lair.
    But It did not feel that Dark anymore, and when It approached, It discovered the walls had been torn down, the fountain shattered. Nothing there now but an empty, broken place.
    Changing back to human form, It approached the only thing of interest that had been left behind: a ragged blanket. Crouching, It fingered the material. Scratchy but warm — and more than It had now.
    It started to grab the blanket, then froze as It felt