Irresistible Forces

my queen, invaded my home, and terrorized our servants because you want to marry me even though I am neither Scottish nor a Guardian?'

He smiled wryly. 'Aye. It doesn't matter that you are English and not of Guardian blood. You are Isabel — the most powerful sorceress in Britain and my bonded mate, and my family will rejoice when I bring you home. Must I terrorize anyone else to gain your consent?'

'My dear, foolish rogue.' With a swift cascade of joy, she linked her arms around his neck. She didn't need her scrying glass to know that they would share passion and battles and unshakable love. Macrae was hers as she was his, bonded for eternity in an alchemical marriage. 'All you had to do was ask!'

¦ ¦ ¦

Author's Note

The defeat of the Spanish Armada is one of those historical high points that just about everyone remembers from high school history classes. It was a watershed that established England's ascendancy as a great sea power and was also a signifier of Spain's decline. The expulsion of the Jews from Spain certainly contributed to that decline. It's ironic that the word marrano, which meant swine and was highly insulting, became Marranos, the term by which the exiles are now known.

John Dee is a historical figure, famous as the queen's conjuror. A metaphysical scholar, alchemist, writer, and astrologer, he cast a chart to pick the best time for Elizabeth's coronation. Given the success of her reign, he was obviously good at his work! It was said that he put a hex on the Spanish Armada, which is why the weather was unusually bad that summer and the English triumphed. The running battles in the English Channel did only average damage — it was the storms when the Armada tried to sail north around Britain that destroyed most of the Spanish fleet.

Dee was also a founder of the Rosicrucian Order, a Protestant response to the Jesuits. A devout Christian, he was both praised and vilified in his lifetime. It is said that he was the model for Shakespeare's Prospero in The Tempest. His library of more than four thousand volumes was the largest in England.

The Guardians are my own invention. Their descendants will appear in some of my future historical romances, starting with A Kiss of Fate, coming from Ballantine Books in summer 2004.

Stained Glass Heart by Catherine Asaro

1. The Golden Suns

Vyrl slipped outside the castle, making sure no one saw him escape. Beyond the village, the Dalvador Plains spread out like a silver-green sea of reeds rippling with the breezes. He took off in a loping run, the grasses rustling around his legs.

Reveling in his freedom, he soon left the village behind. He ran for the joy of being healthy, strong, and full of life. Out here he could be himself, rather than Prince Havyrl Torcellei Valdoria.

In his more introspective moods, Vyrl realized he lived in an idyll, his life marked by golden days. His parents had set it up that way, to shield their children from the harsh life of the Imperial Court in an interstellar empire. The colonists who had settled the world Lyshriol lived a simpler life, one close to the land. They cared more about a good harvest festival than long titles or dynastic lineages. So Vyrl and his many siblings tended crops, pulled weeds, and looked after livestock just like anyone else.

Reed-grasses rippled around him, the translucent tubes sparkling like glass but bending easily, supple and soft. Iridescent spheres no larger than his thumb topped many of the stalks and floated off their moorings when he brushed by. The drifting bubbles marked his path through the plains.

Running hard, throwing his arms wide, he relished the strength of his muscles and broadening shoulders. After a year of gawkiness, when he had seemed to grow visible amounts every day, he had finally stopped feeling gangly and awkward. He was more comfortable now with his new height and strength.

He tilted his head up, letting sunlight bathe his face. Two gold suns hung in a lavender sky, side by side right now, shaped more like eggs than spheres, and speckled with dark spots. The double star destabilized the terraformed planet, but Vyrl earnestly believed that by the time that difficulty threatened this world, well into the future, his people would have figured out how to fix the problem.

Then Vyrl ignominiously tripped over a rock. Laughing, he staggered through the grass, flailing his arms until he recovered his balance.

Eventually his pent-up energy spent itself and he slowed to a walk. He glanced back at the village. The distant cluster of white buildings and colorful turreted roofs barely showed above the waving grasses. He could just see the topmost level of his home. His family lived in a castle, a small but lovely one, with towers at the corners, each capped by a blue turreted roof. Spires topped the roofs and pennants snapped on them, violet with gold ribbing.

Vyrl let out a contented sigh. Then he flopped on his back in the grass, breathing deeply, his heart beating hard. Swaying stalks bent over him, releasing bubbles that glistened against the sky. Ah, what a day! He grinned, relieved to have escaped his math homework.

A girl giggled.

Vyrl's sense of peace fled. He sat up fast. 'Who is that?'

Silence.

Scrambling to his feet, he glared over the plains. The breezes blew his red-gold curls in his face, and he pushed them out of his eyes.

He saw no one. Although a person could easily hide in the grass, she should have left a trail of bubbles floating over whatever path she took here.

Vyrl peered back the way he had come. He had left more than a trail; his wild race had stirred clouds of glimmering spheres. If someone was following him, she could have disguised her approach by keeping to his path. He should have noticed someone skulking after him, but then, he hadn't been paying much attention. None, in fact.

'Who is here?' he called, trying to sound forceful. The words came out more startled than commanding, but at least his voice wasn't breaking anymore. It had finally finished changing and settled into a deep baritone, which pleased him just fine.

No answer came to his question, however. The girl was playing a trick on him. Hah! He wouldn't let her rattle him. He saw no trampled grass nearby, but the reed-grass always sprang back fast. He had flattened a great deal of it when he lay down and already it was rising back into place.

Vyrl continued his search but found no trace of the intruder. He began to feel a bit foolish. Perhaps he had imagined that giggle. Finally he lay down again, stretching out on his back with his hands behind his head.

Another giggle floated on the air like a bubble.

'Who is that?' He had heard her. Glowering, he jumped to his feet and stalked around the area, stomping at the grass. 'Who's there?'

Two bubbles detached from a nearby stalk and bobbed off over the plain. There! He strode forward, grasses whipping around his legs.

A trill of laughter rippled in the wind. Then a girl jumped up out of the grasses, red-gold curls and blue skirts.