Owain Glyndwr began moving slowly downstream from Ross. He stopped once, casting his line anew. Ross watched him a moment, then looked away in the direction of the falls. When he looked back again, the other man was gone.
Ross stayed where he was, waiting patiently. The glen’s darkness was hard and cold about him, but it was strangely comforting as well. It enfolded and welcomed him. It gave him peace. That had not been so on his last visit, when he had returned ten years earlier to tell the Lady he could no longer serve as a Knight of the Word. The glen had felt hostile and forbidding then; it had disdained him. The Lady had not appeared, and he had gone home disconsolate and frustrated in his efforts. He had lost his way without knowing it. As a consequence, he had almost died.
Lights twinkled suddenly in the curtain of the falls, bright and pulsing as they moved through the dark waters. Hundreds of them appeared at once, as if tiny fireflies had migrated out of place and time to welcome him home. He smiled at the sight of them, at the realization the fairies were revealing themselves to him, acknowledging his presence. They grew in number until they filled the waterfall with their light, and Ross thought he would never see anything so wonderful again.
Then he heard his name called softly.
“John Ross.”
He knew her voice at once, recognized it as surely as he did the fairies dancing in the waterfall.
“John Ross, I am here.”
She was standing where Owain Glyndwr had disappeared, balanced on the surface of the water, suspended on air. She was as young and beautiful and ephemeral as ever, almost not there in the paleness of light that defined her image. She lifted her arms toward him, and the light moved with her, cloaking her in silver, trailing after her in bright streamers. She advanced in an effortless, floating motion, a shifting figure of shadows and moonlight.
“My brave knight-errant,” she whispered as she drew close. “You have done well in my service. You are the image of your ancestor in more than appearance. You carry his blood in your veins and his heart in your breast. Six hundred years have passed since his time, but you reflect anew what was best in him.”
He was shaking, not from fear or expectation or anything he could readily define, but simply because she was so close to him that he could feel her presence. He could not answer, but only wait on her to speak again.
“John Ross,” she whispered through silky blackness and shimmering light. “Brave Knight, your service is almost ended. One more thing must you do for me, and then I will set you free.”
He could not believe what he was hearing. He had waited more than twenty-five years for those words. He was fifty-three years old, and he had been a Knight of the Word for half of them. Ten years earlier, he had begged in vain to be released. Now she was offering him his freedom without even being asked. He was stunned.
“You must return to await the appearance of the gypsy morph,” she told him. “As in your dream, it will come. As foretold, it will appear. When it does, you must be ready. For the time allotted to it, you must protect it from the Void. You must protect it at all costs. It is precious to me, and you must keep it safe. When it has transformed for the final time, your service to the Word is finished. Then you may come home.”
He could barely comprehend what he was being told. His voice failed him when he tried to speak; the words would not form in his mouth.
“Give me your hand,” she instructed.
Without thinking, he knelt at her approach, lifting his hand to touch hers. All that she was and all that was the Word filled him with strength and determination. He felt something pressed into his hand, and when her own withdrew, he found himself holding a gossamer net.
“You will use this to take possession of the creature you seek. When it appears and begins to take form, cast the net. The gypsy morph will be yours then—to care for, to protect, and to shepherd as a newborn lamb.” The Lady lifted her arm to sweep the air with light. “Give to it the shelter of your magic, your faith, and your great heart. Do not forsake it, no matter how strong the temptation or great the odds. Do this for me.”