Harry Potter and the Birth of a New Sun

Harry Potter and the Birth of a New Sun

Chapter 25 - The Fealty of Fire

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The great wizard, Ralph Waldo Emerson said, "This time, like all times, is a very good one, if we but know what to do with it." Muggles measure it by the number of ticks on the face of a clock. Wizards record its passing as they watch grains of sand fall to the bottom of a glass. Centaurs simply gaze at the sky, surveying the sun and stars as they pass overhead, and yet they, more than all of God's other creations, control time's power over their lives.

The arrow had left its bow; Ronan had called the warning. Harry had but to stand aside and the arrow would most certainly pierce Gabriella's heart, killing her instantly. Would Voldemort die with her? Centaur magic is deep and Harry had learned but a small portion of Ronan's wisdom, but Harry could not bring himself to believe that a single arrow, however magical, could destroy such evil. Certainly the Dark Lord would be forced to leave her corpse to search for another victim to possess. Perhaps such a plan was already accounted for and the unfortunate Death Eater was near at hand, waiting for just such a contingency.

Was this the vision that Gabriella had so long feared? And was Gabriella, like her mother 'always right'? As these fleeting thoughts passed through Harry's mind, the arrow drew ever closer. He could sense its approach and the time consumed in indecision had cost him dearly. There was now no chance, even with his training, to slow down time fast enough and still turn to deflect the arrow now coming toward his back. No, Harry had time only to stand aside... stand aside. Ronan's words echoed in Harry's ears as Gabriella's eyes looked up at him, pleading for mercy... a falsehood Harry now knew. He sensed the red smouldering beneath the pools of black.

In this darkest moment, when all time was lost, Harry grinned back at his adversary. This time was a very good one - a time to live, a time to die. He did not step aside; he stepped forward toward Gabriella, toward the darkness that held her in its will and, like the darkness, Harry embraced her and held her tight. There was no time for words; the arrow struck before Voldemort could even register Harry's action. Harry could feel the tip pierce his back, just below the right shoulder blade and sensed it ripping his lung tissue as it passed through his body. It clipped a rib just below his right breast and deflected upward. Save for that, the arrow would have struck Gabriella in the heart. Instead, it hit high, missing her vital organ, moving though her lung as it did Harry's and then striking the tree behind. They were now both pinned together like two rag dolls poked with push pins.

Harry tried to take in a breath and a sharp, stabbing pain told him that each such attempt would become more difficult. The face before him contorted into an evil grin.

"I'm not... dead, Harry," she wheezed, her throat whistling with each hard won gasp for air. "But you... will... be. Both of... you. Before you... die, tell me... where... is... the boy? Make it easy on... me, and I'll make it... easy on... our... Jamie. You said... Greece? Where?" Gabriella placed her forehead against Harry's face and a searing pain plunged into Harry's skull. Voldemort was probing for the answer. Having practiced often with Ron, Harry had learned to parry the thrusts of a Legilimens, but he could not withstand the likes of Voldemort forever. Even as Ronan closed from behind, Harry grabbed Gabriella's head and pulled it away from his.

"Do you like... argh... fire, Tom?" Harry asked with blazing green eyes.

"Are you mad!" yelled Ronan. Harry could hear the Centaur approach. He could feel the Centaur grasp the feathered tip of the arrow now pinning Harry to Gabriella. He was going to release its clenching charms when Harry stopped him.

"STAY BACK!" Harry commanded with tremendous effort.

"But--" Ronan didn't get a chance to finish. Flames erupted from Harry's right arm, forcing the Centaur to retreat.

"A little heat... Tom?" Harry asked again. The look in Gabriella's eyes was confused. "Incendio Forté!" Harry whispered with gritted teeth. The flame exploded, engulfing them both in fire. The tree behind Gabriella ignited and flames raced up its thick trunk. It cried out shaking the ground worse than ever. The temperature rose higher and higher as Harry concentrated its energy at the centre of Gabriella's being. Her face was panicked, but Harry's was focused and stern. She, as Harry, knew the ways of the Votary, but Voldemort did not and he had no way of casting a shield charm.

"Stay with me, baby," whispered Harry, hoping that some part of Gabriella knew what was happening, could fight against its captor. Blistering, searing flame, and finally Voldemort relented. Harry knew that look of anger, like a spoiled child being refused a second ice cream for desert. Her scream was pitched high and the voice was cold. Harry watched as the green left Gabriella's body, rising upward with the curling smoke and lapping flames. Ronan shot arrows at the evil mist, but they had no effect. As for the arrows pinning Harry and Gabriella to the tree, they ignited and turned to black ash. At once the two fell to the ground.

Gabriella began to cough, short, sharp, shallow breaths. Blood was running freely from her wound. It had soaked her blouse and was dripping onto the forest floor. Harry went to move toward her, but the sharp pain in his chest held him in place; he could taste the blood that had worked its way up into his mouth. Ronan was upon them.

"You fool," he snapped, gathering leaves and pressing them against Gabriella's chest. Gabriella continued to cough, but the breaths were shorter and shallower. The Centaur cursed. "Use your powers boy," he demanded, "before she dies."

Harry pulled his wand and cast a spell to stop the bleeding, it helped, but not much. The Centaur arrow was enchanted to defeat such magic.

"I... I can't," said Harry, his voice hollow.

"The stone you told me of," insisted Ronan. "Use the stone." Harry's soul grew cold.

"Not... possible." Harry could sense his vision narrowing. He looked down and watched as, with each heartbeat, another spurt of blood dribbled out his chest. Ronan placed an herbal compact similar to Gabriella's against Harry's wound and cursed again.

"She'll die. You'll both die!" cried Ronan. For the first, time Harry saw the Centaur panicked. But, as always, Ronan was right. If they didn't do something soon, they both would surely die. How could it end like this? Had she been right all along?

Harry just shook his head. He'd sworn an oath. He'd sat with the dragon Singehorn himself and sworn an oath. He would not break it; not when Gabriella had rejected his offers to use the stone to heal her mother and her dieing father the year before.

"It... it is..." Harry spat out the blood pooling in his mouth. "...forbidden."

His vision finally failed. His thoughts turned to Singehorn. The dragon had always told him that he could call on him if ever he were in trouble. It was an alliance, a blood oath, and now, more than ever, Harry was in need. He turned his mind to the dragon and suddenly the cool, moist air of the Forbidden Forest was parched... dry. Harry opened his eyes and the sands of a vast desert opened up before him.

The large hand of a black man reached down and took Harry's hand in his own. The face of the usually jovial figure was stern, almost angry, but the anger was not directed at Harry. Of this, he was sure. Singehorn, the man, pulled Harry to his feet. There was no forest and no blood, but the pain in his chest was just as severe. Harry, Primate of the Votary, stood in red robes before his master, but his right hand clutched at this chest - a wound that wasn't there.

"I sense the Phantom's presence," said Singehorn with concern.

"Gabriella," Harry whispered, "he took her." There was a moment's pause as Singehorn's face drew in and his eyes looked outward, but then he shook his head in disagreement.

"No," he said. "She is in pain, but there is no such evil." Harry grew impatient.

"There's no time for this. We must hurry." Singehorn laughed a deep, throaty laugh that shook the ground and made Harry angry. "She's dying!" he cried. Singehorn held Harry's chin in his massive hand. The calluses scratched as the man pulled Harry's eyes upward to meet his fiery yellow. There was a smile across his mouth, the faintest hint of fang.

"You both are dying, Harry. But there is no hurry." He let go of Harry's chin and stroked his own in thought. "Here," he held out his hands and showcased the desolate countryside, "here we have all the time in the world. In here," Singehorn tapped the side of his head, "the mind processes millions of thoughts a second... even in the mind of a wizard. It's amazing really. And in here, time stands still. You can dream a lifetime in the blink of an eye. Time here, Harry, has no meaning." Singehorn crossed his arms and regarded Harry carefully. Again he shook his head and then, smiling, patted Harry on the shoulder.

"Soseh is quite the woman. She's never wrong," Singehorn whispered. "I did not think it possible." He stepped closer to Harry and put his arm upon his shoulders. "I could not be more proud as I am at this very moment. Darkness covers the earth, but there is one shining light that will shatter its shade. I doubted. I doubt no more. Though you are young and you will stumble, I am now convinced that your path will end in light." Singehorn grabbed Harry's left hand and held it up, moving the ring finger that bore the ring of onyx closer to Harry's face.

"Life, Harry, is all around us. Sometimes, even the greatest and most powerful must summon the smallest and least consequential to their aide. Most are too arrogant, others too stupid to realize the energy and power that permeates the world around. The ring, Harry, lets you speak with any beast, any creature. If you but ask, they will do your bidding." Singehorn bent low to one knee, grimacing as he did so.

"Your body has fallen in a ring of fire; all about you is dead. But, beneath the ashen loam upon which you lay, a creature survives, millions of them now energized by the heat of your flame. The light of life erupts from the ground beneath you; use your gifts and you will see. Call to them; ask them to help Gabriella, to help you both. Some will not survive, but if you ask, they will oblige, for we all stand against the dark. Blessings upon you my son, and also upon the House of Hayk."

"The House of--?"

The scene snapped back to the forest and Harry was instantly aware of the sharp pain in his chest. Gabriella's coughs had stopped and been replaced by a thin, whistling pant.

"... both die!" cried Ronan.

"It... it is..." Harry spat out the blood pooling in his mouth. "...forbidden." His vision failed, but his mind's eye turned downward as Singehorn had said and there they were - specks of glowing dust, just below the scorched surface - a sea of microscopic life. Harry made a fist and clutched the ring to his chest, focussing now on the life beneath him.

"Help us," he whispered, not really knowing what to expect. "Please, help - us." He coughed and another splat of blood fell to the ground. And then, from out of the ether, Harry heard the reply of the tiniest of voices from the largest of crowds.

"Your wounds are too high!" it called. "Come down to us."

"Ronan," Harry breathed, "lay her... flat against the earth."

"But--"

"Do it!" A streak of pain shot through Harry's chest. "If we die, we die here, but don't... don't move us until the stars rise."

Ronan obliged and rolled Gabriella onto her back. Harry, as well, turned upon his back. For a moment, he could see again and he gazed up at the morning sky. He could feel the blood dripping from his back as a light, white cloud drifted overhead. It was the shape of a dog and Harry smiled, coughing again as blood dripped from the corner of his mouth and into his ear.

"A Grim," he groaned with a smile, pointing one finger upward to the sky. His body was growing colder... colder... The last thing he remembered was the thin wisp of a voice calling to its friends.

"In here!"

~ x ~ x ~

Drip.

An icicle clung to a large pine tree with great branches that stretched over the path of a tiny brook. Drip. A single drop of water fell from the frozen crystal and landed on the water flowing gently below. Just one drop, among many that filled the tiny brook on its way to who knew where - Harry decided to see. He'd only walked perhaps a hundred metres when the brook joined another somewhat larger creek. There was a tiny waterfall that cascaded over a handful of large rocks. Harry jumped down and continued to follow the water's path. The air grew damper and the fertile earth of the forest floor filled his nostrils with a rich earthy aroma of life and decay.

Eventually the tiny creek grew, as more brooks and tiny rivulets joined it. It matured into a small stream and as he followed its winding path, it continued to expand. Harry didn't know how many hours, how many days, how many lifetimes he walked until the stream became a river with rushing rapids and great still pools. Tirelessly, he followed until the river emptied out into a great ocean that extended beneath an azure blue sky as far as the eye could see. He walked along the sandy shore, looking for others, but none were to be found. The air here was also rich with life and decay, only the salty sea air made the aroma more pungent and biting, filled with greater possibilities and more ferocious consequences.

He walked onto an outcropping of rocks and looked for life in the sheltered tide pools. A great wave careened against the rocks sending white spray and foam high into the air and soaking him from head to toe. The water was cold, but inside he was warm. He wiped his dripping face with his hands and stopped. Holding out his hands in front of his face he observed a single drop of water run down his finger and he wondered if it might not have been the same drop that had started him on this journey. Drip. So tiny, so inconsequential in its own right, but when joined with others... he gazed out across the ocean and another wave crashed violently into the rocks only this time the surge knocked Harry from his feet and he fell headlong into the water. Drip.

Harry woke with a start, his eyes opening upon the ceiling above him. The flicker of firelight danced across a thatched wood woven of stick and branches - native plants he now recognized as common to the Forbidden Forest. Outside the plant-covered walls, it was raining steadily and as the smell of the damp, loamy earth filled his nostrils, his dream haunted him. An instant later his memories rushed back and his hand shot toward his chest to feel for the hole left by the arrow that had run him through, but his fingers found only smooth, flat flesh. He sat up and recognized at once, though he'd never been to their village before, that this was a Centaur hut. A flash of anger flamed briefly through his body and then he looked for Gabriella. The hut was empty and, when Harry tried to stand from the low mat upon which he rested, he found his strength failing him. He sat back down and tried to gather himself.

"Ronan!" he yelled as loud as he could. "Ron--" Before he finished, a Centaur with a chestnut coat entered the hut. It was not Ronan, but rather Felspar's mother, Macleta. Harry had seen her often, cantering next to Ronan during some of his training sessions with Shahan and Felspar. Her face was placid and her dark eyes deep. She bowed to Harry as she approached him.

"Ronan is in meditation," she said softly. "He has seen many things under the passing stars, but today's events have shaken him." She bent low and placed her hand against Harry's face; the touch was soft, warm, and the dizziness in Harry's head began to fade at once. "And you, my child," she began again, "I see your wound has mended, but how is your spirit?"

"Gabriella? Where's Gabriella?" Harry struggled to get up, but Macleta placed her hand against Harry's shoulder and the steady weight pushed him back onto the bed. Ordinarily, Harry would have resisted, but there was something calming, something reassuring in the pressure of her hand and, without saying a word, Harry knew Gabriella was well.

"I myself have made poultices from the Fungerum to heal the wounds of my brothers and sisters. It was fortunate that the soils upon which you fell were rich with their healing powers. Still, even I, who saw the passing of Ebyrth in the last age, have never seen them cure so severe a wound so quickly, as if they were driven to save your lives."

"I... I asked them to help us," said Harry quietly. Macleta laughed.

"I do not doubt it," she said with a smile. "As for your mate, she too has been healed of her injuries. It is but--"

"Then let me see her!"

"Her spirit was not well when she arrived. When Ronan told me of the Dark Wizard..." Macleta let out a long, low sorrowful sigh. She could see the fear filling Harry's eyes and again a warm smile graced her face offering reassurance. "She grows stronger by the minute, but it would be unwise if she saw your face right now. Your link to Voldemort was once strong and the reaction might not go well."

"But I was Cleansed!" Harry protested. "Surely there's--" Someone shouted outside the hut. There was a rumbling of hoofs and a sloshing of mud.

"You brought IT here?" a voice cried out in anger. Harry recognized at once it was the voice of Shahan, the black colt he had been training with these last many months. The tone was not surprising, since every time the young Centaur opened his mouth it was usually filled with vitriol. His words now, however, carried the slightest tone of fear. "It's darkness; it's hatred! Where is Ronan? Why did he not crush it when he had the chance? You must send it away and let it die!"

"She carries now no darkness." The new voice was that of Felspar. "The darkness has fled her. It would have fled her in either case. How then could we leave her to die?"

"What is that to us?" snapped Shahan. "And this one!" he sneered. Harry could almost feel Shahan's heavy breaths as the Centaur leaned close against his hut. "This one cost the lives of half the herd in the Carpathians. They died trying to serve his will. Is that what you want for your family? I will not wait for him to lead us like blind molamars to our deaths."

During the argument, Macleta, her expression serene, bowed her head to Harry and excused herself without saying a word. A moment after her tail passed through the door to Harry's hut, Shahan was about to say something else when his voice was cut short. Harry had trained and even battled with the Centaur and was unable to fathom what power would have the colt gurgling, gasping for breath.

"You will learn your place," whispered Macleta calmly, "or you will leave the herd." Suddenly, Shahan heaved in a gulp of air. There were no more words, only the sound of rain splattering into the puddles collecting outside. Naked, as he always was with the Centaurs, Harry stepped outside. It was night; a steady, cold rain continued to pelt down. Macleta and her daughter were standing next to each other as if they were speaking, but no words were passed. Shahan was nowhere to be found. Harry stepped over to them, the mud pushing up through the toes of his bare feet.

"Is everything okay?" he asked, drips of water streaking down his face. Felspar bowed her head.

"It is good to see you well," she said. "I am glad that you have finally come to see our home."

For the first time, Harry took in the huts about him with paths and alleyways that made up something of a village, just a little smaller than Hogsmeade. He'd never seen it before, but he did know its name - Terntalag. There wasn't so much a main street as a main path. Huts and shops were an organic part of the environment around them; it was difficult to tell where Centaur construction ended and nature began. He looked back at his own hut which had a fire burning warmly inside, but outside there was no chimney and no smoke rose to the air. There were a few older colts, full grown Centaurs, and two aged Centaurs, that made Macleta look young, still walking about. All noticed Harry as they passed by and all nodded their heads, but none stared, they simply went about their business. Harry had a chance to take in many expressions and appearances, and his first impression was that Felspar was among the fairest of them all. He had never really noticed before, but there was something more energetic, more innocent, and yet wiser that graced her form - traits he now noticed in her mother as well.

With Macleta's permission, Felspar walked Harry to Gabriella's hut, but warned him not to go in. Instead, she offered to show him the rest of their encampment. As they walked, the rain began to stop and Harry saw a flash of white he thought might be another Centaur the colour of Felspar, but as quickly as it appeared it faded from view.

"What was that?" he asked.

"A spectre," she replied calmly. "Since word reached us of the battle in the Carpathians, strange things have been happening in the forest." Harry pondered how things could be stranger than they already were. "More giants have arrived, establishing a camp near the caverns of the falls. Ronan says they are here to help, but others aren't so sure, least of all Shahan. Stranger still are the white spectres that pass in and out of existence. I have seen such creatures before, but never so many and their numbers continue to grow throughout the forest. Mother sees it as a sign, but of what she will not say."

"And the Dementors?" Harry asked. Felspar hissed.

"Would that they try to slither onto our lands," she said and then spat on the ground. "Nothing has passed our borders without our knowledge. That is why Shahan is so angered that Voldemort himself could make it on to our forest."

"But she... er, he didn't," said Harry. "Ronan saw at once."

"His hesitation for your sake, may have allowed Voldemort to escape. That he nearly killed the Chosen in his haste... it is a delicate balance, and he now questions his heart. To what cost may one destroy the darkness? That is why he meditates. May that you never face the same challenge."

They walked a bit further. Felspar showed Harry a great opening, beneath a canopy of trees, lined with tables but no chairs. It reminded him a bit of the Great Hall. Here, all the Centaurs ate together in a common meal. They continued to walk and talk. It was the first time they'd had a chance to do such a thing since they'd begun to train, and it was the first time Harry had had the opportunity to get to know the filly. She was sweat. Her smile glowed and her white hair matched the colour of her coat, but unlike most of the other Centaurs it was cut short, reminding Harry a bit of Tonks.

At one point the conversation lagged and Felspar's eyes gazed upward to the heavens. It was a common look among Centaurs and even Harry found himself gazing at the stars unable to comprehend what exactly the Centaurs saw. He noticed that her expression saddened and her eyes squinted, although Harry knew by now that Centaurs weren't using their eyes to gaze at the heavens. She was looking toward Ebyrth, now visible to all - even Muggles.

"What is it?" he asked. "You seem troubled."

"The other day, Ronan told me, but I did not believe him." She continued to gaze intently at the comet. "But today... I think I can see."

"See what?" Felspar pointed toward Ebyrth... almost. Her finger aimed just to the east of the comet - toward Mars which flickered red in the night sky.

"It will be close," she whispered. "But what it means, not even Ronan will say."

"Close?"

"Ebyrth approaches Mars. They have never been so close. It is possible that they will collide."

"Is that bad?" Harry asked. Felspar shrugged her shoulders. But in a flash her dower face brightened.

"I have received word; Gabriella wishes to see you now. She is well."

Harry ran, Felspar at his side, and before another word was spoken he was outside Gabriella's hut. A Centaur stood guard outside, a large spear in his hand. As Harry moved to enter the Centaur barred his way.

"Only the gentler race," he said. Harry's eyes flashed red. He was about to take action that was anything but gentle when Felspar stepped between them.

"They are mates," she said and the guardian nodded with comprehension. He pulled back his spear. Harry looked at Felspar and began to blush. "Well you are, aren't you?" she asked. There was something coy and flirtatious with her tone. Harry smiled and stepped inside.

Covered in a red woollen blanket, Gabriella lay on a thick pad on the floor of the hut. An elderly female Centaur crouched low to her side. Both their eyes were closed as the Centaur held a hand across Gabriella's forehead. Harry wanted to interrupt, but a voice inside told him to be silent. The moment soon passed and the Centaur removed her hand and both women opened their eyes. They smiled at each other - almost laughing.

"Thank you," said Gabriella with a soft voice. Her eyes fell upon Harry and her smile widened.

"I never thought I'd see you smile at a Centaur," he said, wearing a grin himself.

"I never thought I'd see you running around naked for the whole world to see," Gabriella retorted. Harry blushed, realizing that he must look strange to someone who didn't understand their ways.

"Erm... well, I guess you just get used to it after a while."

"I think you enjoy it," said Gabriella suggestively. The Centaur stood and bowed to Harry. She was quite large and looked down on Harry as she spoke.

"Your mate is well, though there are still scars upon her spirit that may never fade away. That which bites has been banished." Harry bowed in return.

"We are forever in your debt." The gesture surprised the elderly Centaur. Her eyes twinkled with satisfaction and she looked back at Gabriella with an expression that nearly created a smile.

"You have chosen well," she said approvingly. "We all have." Then she turned and exited the hut, leaving Harry and Gabriella alone. Harry fell to his knees at Gabriella's side and took her by the hand.

"How do you feel?" he asked.

"At peace," she said as she sat up. "I was so scared, Harry. I wanted to die. But now, I am, for the first time since my family left Lebanon, at peace."

"I thought..." Harry wavered. "I thought your vision had come true."

"Evidently, I am not my mother. I do make mistakes. Thank Asha for that!"

"Are you ready to travel?"

"I can travel, but I'm not walking through the forest naked."

Harry smiled. "What about walking naked around your tent?" he asked, flashing his eyebrows up and down. "We are mates after all." Gabriella took Harry's left hand in both of hers and looked up into his eyes. Her expression deepened.

"Are we? Are we really, Harry?" The question was slow and deliberate. He knew what she was asking. He took her right hand and wrapped it in his. He fingered the golden ring that he had given her last year on Valentine's. The ring was woven from spun gold and laced with scarlet rubies that glowed in the dim light as he touched them. She wore it on the middle finger of her right hand. He slipped it from her finger and held it in his own.

"If Voldemort only knew what he had in the palm of his hand," Harry whispered. "Do you remember last year when I asked you to hold my heart and soul until the time was right?" Gabriella giggled a bit, remembering the banter of their letters to each other.

"Yes," she said.

"Well... it's not a Horcrux, but in here I've given a bit of myself that has always been yours to keep. I poured my love into the ring, Gabriella, and that energy is locked into the weaves of gold. If Voldemort had known, he could have controlled me utterly." Her eyes widened in disbelief and Harry stroked the long strands of hair from her face.

"Funny thing is... I thought I'd given it all to you, all I had, but in here...," Harry held his hand over his chest, "it's as if my reservoir has been replenished. Nearly twelve months and the love I have in here surpasses the love held within this ring. It's time you had it all."

"What are you talking about?"

Harry placed the tip of his finger over the row of rubies, pressed down and slid them with a click to one side. An explosion of white light struck the top of the hut. Its intensity was blinding and Gabriella had to shield her eyes.

"It's my love. And, at the time, it was all I had." Harry placed his hand over the ring. "But now, I have more and I give it all to you." He closed his eyes and uttered an incantation that ended with:

"Amoramendum!"

His arm and hand began to glow a vivid blue. Gabriella could feel the energy fill the air. The glow flowed down Harry's arm and spit out the tip of his finger like a small lightning bolt into the ring. When it was over, the light radiating from the ring was so intense Gabriella had to look away. Harry pressed the jewels and slid them in place; there was a click and the light faded. When Gabriella looked back at the ring, the row of rubies had been replaced. In their stead was a row of sparkling fire stones - more rare than diamonds, more brilliant than sapphires, they glowed the colours of the rainbow and in their centre was mounted a dragon stone. Its glow was fiery red and not but a member of the Votary could tolerate the heat with which it burned.

Harry again turned the ring about in his fingers and then his green eyes met her black and a grin creased his face.

"I've fantasized about this moment for months, but I never dreamed we'd be doing this in our birthday suits. I was hoping for the beach and a golden sunset, not with mud up to my knees on the dirt in a Centaur hut." He positioned himself on one knee and at once Gabriella began to tremble.

"Oh, Harry, I didn't mean you had to--"

"Shhh," he whispered, "you'll make me forget my speech." He cleared his throat and held the glowing ring out with his hand. "I wish that I had had the chance to ask your father for your hand. I can only hope that, before he died, he knew how much I loved you. It's important that you--"

"How much we loved each other."

"Would you let me finish?" He cleared his throat again. "Erm... That said, I have received your brother's blessing to--"

"No!" Gabriella gasped in surprise. "You asked Antreas? What did he say?" Harry sighed.

"Well, if you must know, he said that if one day the stars so choose, he could think of no other that he would rather call brother." Harry shifted position; his leg was beginning to fall asleep. "Now... as I was saying--"

"That was sweet. Don't you think?"

"Yes... I do, but--"

"And if you think about it, a part of Papa is within Antreas and always will be. So... in a way--"

"Damn it, Gabriella!" Harry yelled. "WILL YOU MARRY ME OR NOT?"

At last, Gabriella was silenced and slowly she held out her trembling left hand. Harry let go of the ring in mid-air and it hung there suspended as Gabriella extended the fingers on her hand. Without touching the ring, Harry held up his hand and flames sprang forth from his palm.

"Is that a yes?" he asked smartly. Gabriella's hand steadied.

"Yes," she breathed.

"Iunctura!" Harry breathed and the fire pushed the ring forward, glowing white, onto the ring finger of her left hand. "By Asha's breath we are bound forever."

For a moment they sat and watched the ring on Gabriella's outstretched hand as the glowing gold dimmed, but the stones never lost their fire. Finally, Harry took her hand into his and kissed it. He could feel the heat burning his lips, penetrating his tongue. He looked up into her eyes.

"I love you," he said gently. "Did you know that?"

"You talk too much," she replied and her eyes began to twinkle. With a move worthy of a matador, she spun the red blanket from off her bare breast wrapped it about Harry's bare back and pulled him close. "Time to ride, stallion."