The Time Weaver

which thankfully had made the Weave with me.

Something flashed ahead, to my right. It vanished against a haze of deeper green, then came again—a wink of light, small as a forest fairy.

It actually was crystal, a cut-crystal pendant like a lustre from a chandelier, strung with thread and suspended from a lofty tree branch, half lost behind a fan of needles. I walked to stand beneath it, gazing up at it as it spun and sparked in lazy mystery.

The guitar playing rose behind me, but I still felt compelled to go forward, away from it, toward the denser darkness of the trees. A few feet in I spied a new crystal—no, two of them together—hung near enough that they might ring, if another breeze would come. A few more steps, wildflowers gilding my legs with pollen, and there were more pendants, high and lower down, some so low I could reach up and stroke their pointed tips, creating my own cascade of sound. The woods before me were draped with them now, crystal lustres tinkling and swaying, a hundred fairy winks guiding me on.

It was like a dream, this forest, so fantastic and inexplicable and yet still teasingly familiar. I glided through it like a dreamwalker, like I could walk and walk and never tire.

But that's not what happened.

I didn't really come upon the clearing as much as it came upon me. I had been hiking enthralled, unheeding of much beyond the pendants and the flowers and the aroma of shadowed, balmy woods. It seemed that when I blinked, it was there: a meadow of plush grasses and more wildflowers, a sky above that showed it was twilight, just the beginning of it, and a stream at the other green edge that burbled and purled.

In my dream, Alexandru stood by the stream.

I halted in place, still beneath the canopy of trees. I trusted my eyes but I trusted my senses more, so I inhaled deep and sought the scent of him and yes, there he was, his wonderful perfume of night and day. There was a blanket spread on the grass between us, food and wine upon it, and I smelled that too, but more than anything there was him. Raven-blue hair, broad shoulders, lean. A silk shirt similar to the one I wore, but burgundy instead of white, and with a cravat, no waistcoat, leather boots and doeskin breeches.

He turned around. He found me at once, and his lips turned up into a smile. 'Rez,' he said. 'You did come.'

I stepped forward, glancing around us. There didn't seem to be anyone else nearby. The prince only stood in place as the lustres threw sparkles at the corners of my vision.

'Perdoni,' he murmured, and shook his head. 'I'd forgotten how you looked in that shirt.'

'I beg your pardon,' I said, enmeshed in that dreamlike calm. 'Are you addressing me?'

'I am.' He came toward me, circling around the blanket. I noticed vaguely that his hair was even longer now, down past his chest, but he still didn't bother to tie it back. 'We changed your name when you first came, to throw off the English.'

'To Rehzz?' I asked, trying out the sound.

He had reached me, stopped just before me, still smiling. 'It's from the language of the mountains. It means something like 'red-haired.''

'Really?' I said, disgruntled. 'That's the best you could do?'

Alexandru laughed. Truly laughed, a deep and lovely sound that sent those prickles along my skin and unlocked something fragile in my chest, something carefully unfolding.

He found my hand, curled his fingers around mine. 'You liked it at the time. At least, you told me you did.'

'I'm not a very good liar,' I said. 'So if you believed me, I'm sure I meant it.'

The crystals let loose another round of rippling chimes; his smile began to fade. Through the dusk, through the gloaming, he looked at me with a clear gray intensity that seemed more than ever animal, even though he was fully in his human form.

And he was older. Not much, but I could tell. The lines around his mouth were slightly deeper, his cheeks a bit more hollowed. His skin looked darker too, although at the moment it was hard to be certain. I thought he might have a hint of a tan, because there were faint, faint, paler lines around the corners of his eyes, as if he kept his face to the sun.

But, oh—he was still the most handsome drakon I'd ever seen. Still with those sensual lips, and lashes so thick and long that when he dropped his gaze, they masked the gray entirely.

'Well,' I said, or tried to, but my voice came out more as a croak. I tried again, stronger. 'I suppose then I made it here after all. That's why I came. To, um, ensure that we're supposed to ... be ...' I wet my lips. 'This is where we live? The Carpathians? We're a couple?'

'We are,' the prince said.

'And . where am I now? The me in this time?'

'Away. So that you could come.'

'Did we wed?' I asked, and the prince glanced up again with a very dry half-smile.

Well, hell.

'Not yet, but a fortnight ago,' he said, 'you at last agreed to be my wife.' His smile grew more wry at my silence; he pinned me with that mist-pale gaze. 'It's been over a year of me asking, Rez. Every morning. Every night. You're a most stubborn woman. But it happens that I'm a most persistent man.'

'Oh,' I said. 'I see. Fine. I'll just ... I'll be ...'

I ran out of words. It was rather ludicrous. He was the same Alexandru, the same person. But with his hand covering mine, my confusion of thoughts seemed blown to the wind. I could only feel.

And I felt—panicky. Like my skin had been rubbed raw and every second I remained with him flayed me deeper, a pain that was both exquisite and agonizing at once.

He was older. He was so composed. We were going towed. And despite that sardonic, knowing smile, he looked at me like I was one of the succulent little fishes that used to swim by him, back in those days when he lounged on his throne in that cold, cold Great Room of his castle.

Those days that might be right now, I realized.

'Don't go yet,' he said easily, and drew my hand through the crook of his arm, forcing me to step by his side. 'I've brought a supper. All your favorites.'

Most of the dishes were. Shallots in almond sauce, roasted pork sausage. Minced olives and capers as tapenade, torn bread for dipping. Fresh cheese drizzled with honey, cubed melon,coca cake. Even paella, yellow with saffron. But there were other provisions there I'd never seen or smelled before. As I settled upon the blanket, tucking my legs beneath me, I leaned over to take a closer look at the nearest one: a ceramic bowl holding a red stew of some sort, with shredded meat and a pungent, peppery spice I could not name.

'That one is my favorite,' said the prince, sitting beside me. 'Tochitura. It should be served hot, but we do what we can alfresco. Will you have some?'

'No, thank you,' I said, which prompted another smile.

'You never have, you know.'

'I'm sure it's delightful,' I hedged.

He tipped his head in acknowledgment. 'An acquired taste, perhaps.'

Alexandru began to serve me. I followed the movement of his hands, his deft purchase on the knives, the shape of his fingers against the blanket and the ghostly curves of the platters and plates. The light above us was fading rapidly, but there was already a moon, lovely and full, rising above the conifers.

'I brought a lantern,' he said, setting my plate before me. 'If you'd like.'

'No. This is nice.'

'I agree.'

He eased back to the blanket, lifted his wineglass toward me and waited until I lifted mine. 'To fate,' he said.

I had no ready response to that. The rims of our glasses made a ting like the crystal lustres.

'Alexandru.'