Chapter Three

Three days after their jump of the fires of Beltane, Gwen and Dom had decided to take a trail ride through the many acres of land on Gwen's family's property. To surprise her, Dom had brought a picnic lunch, complete with bite-sized chocolate cakes. They had stopped just after noon, beneath a large oak tree that had often served as a private getaway when they were children. They'd tethered the horses in the adjoining field where they could keep a close eye on them.

Gwen sat up against the hard trunk of the oak. She stared down at the crisp dark blue blanket beneath her and the food before her: chocolate cake, lemonade, and fresh cut meat between slices of his mother's famous bread. Dom had let her chose where they were to ride, to set the pace, and to choose where they would take their noonday meal. He was considerate and made her laugh with every other sentence. She frowned, watching him lay, his eyes closed, basking in the sun. For all outward show, Dom appeared to be courting her.

Hadn't he always acted like this? Gwen shook her head. Not when they were children. Then when had he changed? When had she changed?

"Dom?"

"Hmmm?"

Gwen rolled over beside him in the grass. She stared up at the periwinkle sky and the billowy clouds that marred its surface. "Do you ever think about the future?"

Dom opened one eye to glance at her. He swallowed the lump in his throat before answering. "Sure, all the time." He sat up, leaning on his elbows. "Why?"

Gwen sat up and brushed the grass from her back. She cleared her throat. She wasn't really sure why she had asked. Racking her brain, she finally answered, "Uh, Mom keeps badgering me to get married." She sighed.

Dom fought to keep his voice steady. "You don't want to?"

Gwen glanced at him. "No, not right away. I mean, I have my whole life in front of me. I want to travel outside of our little town, or start my own business, or do…something." She began to pick the daisies that grew at the base of the tree. "I want to see the world before I'm old and know nothing but my father's lands." Avoiding Dom's glance, she wove the white and yellow daisies into a crown. She took the pins from her hair and let it fall down her back. Placing the crown on her head, she stood and flung her arms out to the sides. And then she spun.

Dom couldn't take his eyes from her. She was beautiful. He nearly lost his breath every time he was near her. Her long brown hair shimmered in waves almost to her waist. The dress she wore gleamed yellow as the buttercups littering the field. Dom grinned, noting how it complemented her feminine figure. The dress's skirts billowed gracefully around her as she spun.

Why had she begun to speak about the future? It had surprised him. Was she still thinking about Beltane? Dom knew he was. He couldn't get it out of his head. Now, he wasn't one for superstition, but he hoped that this tale was true. Their hands had held. They were destined for a life together.

But Gwen wouldn't see that. He'd tried over the last couple years to show her how much he really cared, but…she hadn't, or wouldn't, see it. Yet, Dom knew he was a patient man. He would wait. As long as it took.

Dizzy beyond belief, Gwen dropped to the ground and laid there, her head spinning. Dom stood and walked over to her. A smile lit her face as she scrunched her eyes against the dizziness. The daisy crown had fallen off and Dom retrieved it silently. He stood over her, waiting for her to open her eyes.

She did, finally, and the look in her eyes sent shivers down his spine. Did she finally feel the way he did? But she blinked, and then it was gone. He held out his hand and pulled her up. He placed the crown atop her head and she staggered a bit and caught fast to his arm, giggling. He hooked his arm around her waist to steady her. She leaned into him and suddenly her arms were around his neck.

She laid her head against his chest and began to cry.

Dom pulled away slightly and cupped her face, wiping her tears away with his thumbs. He was done playing the best friend role. He wanted this young woman as his wife, and, life, he was going to act like it. "Gwen, sweet, what's wrong? Are you alright?"

"Everything," she sobbed into his shirt, "everything."

"What…" he began.

"Just everything. Mom and marriage and you at Beltane and Kiersten…" she stopped, suddenly afraid she'd said too much. She sniffled, but wouldn't let go of Dom. "I have no freedom anymore. I miss being a child. I miss just being with you and going swimming every day without a care in the world."

"We still can, Gwen. We're not that old." Dom slipped his hand to the back of her neck and dug his fingers in her thick hair. He pulled her back to him, wrapping his arms around her.

"I'm so glad you're here, Dom," she whispered.

He paused. It was a start. "Me to, Gwen. Me too."

The next week, just after noon, Henry and Dom's father Mitchell, left for the 56th Annual Inventor's Fair. The two families, being friends for over five generations, gathered together for the farewell. Henry and Mitchell would travel together until the road forked some miles down the road. From there, Mitchell would bear right to visit a distant cousin before continuing on to the fair. That left Henry to take the other road and take the famed shortcut to the host's castle. The two would meet up again there.

Sara helped load her husband's printer onto the cart pulled by Aral, Gwen's dapple-gray mare. Deanne did the same for her husband. The farewell was quick.
The party waved good-bye as the two men set out to find their fortune. They waved until they were out of sight, the group they left behind silent and still, praying for their safety. For dangerous was the journey to other lands.

"Come, everyone!" Sara called suddenly. "My daughters and I have prepared you a meal. Please feel free to join us." The children ran to be first in line for Sara's famous country pork. The others followed at a leisurely pace, speaking of their wishes for Henry and Mitchell's good fortune.

Instead of joining in the festivities, or helping Sara and Deanne with the children, Dom and Gwen snuck off into the woods for a last swim before winter set in. Gwen made sure she brought an extra set of clothes. She didn't want her mother ribbing her again.

The cool pool water and Dom's company refreshed Gwen after a morning of baking in a hot kitchen with her sisters. Their endless squabble about fashion and suitors bored Gwen to death. The lazy day also helped ease the tension between them. Ever since Gwen's confession, albeit a guarded one, the week before, Dom had tried to keep his distance. Gwen had misinterpreted such and action as him trying to avoid her, until she confronted him and he assured her that was not the case.

The two hadn't spoken of it since then, and Gwen wasn't about to bring it again.

"What's the prize this year?" she asked, floating on her back.

Dom swam in lazy circles around her. "The foremost invention receives three thousand silver nobles," his voice was ablaze with wonder.

Gwen gasped and lost her balance in the water. "Three thousand? Why that's more than Dad makes in an entire year!"

Dom grinned. "Same with my dad."

Gwen watched him. "Do you think…either of them could win?"

Dom thought a moment. "Sure. They have as much chance as anyone." His expression closed for a moment, losing the joy it had exhibited a moment earlier.

"Dom? What is it?"

Dom frowned, his mouth open as if he was about to say something. He glanced around. "Gwen? Do you feel that?"

"Feel what?" She stopped swimming and treaded the water.

"Something…" Dom turned this way and that, reminding Gwen of someone lost. "The air…it's thicker. I can actually feel it settling on my shoulders." His whispered words made Gwen shudder.

"It's well past noon, Dom," she whispered too, "The air always get thicker as the sun sets."

Dom shook his head. "This is something else. Listen."

Gwen swam over the bank and hauled herself up. The layers of clothing she wore clung to her body, but for once she didn't notice. "You're right," she whispered. She actually felt the weight of the air on her shoulders. An invisible mist hung in the air, like a poison. There was no breeze, yet the trees swayed back and forth. No sound from anything. Dom swam toward her, but the water made no noise. Gwen stilled in fear. Something wasn't right.

"Let's go back," Dom ordered, hauling her up with him.

"Like this?"

"Something is wrong, Gwen. Something bad."

"I can feel it too."

"Then let's go."

Quickly, without any sound, they were out of the pool and running back to Gwen's home.

Dom reached the house a second before Gwen. "Is everything okay in here?"

Gwen's breathing was heavy as she surveyed the perfectly normal act of cleaning up the noon meal.

Deanne looked over her son. "Yes, Dom. Why wouldn't it be?"

Gwen and Dom exchanged glances, their eyes wide with fear.

Sara stepped forward. "Why are you two soaking wet?"

Gwen and Dom stared at each other. What had happened?

"We were swimming," Dom said hastily, and a little too loudly. "Come on, Gwen. Let's go get cleaned up." He grabbed her arm and led her away.

"Dom. Something is very wrong. I can feel in my bones."

"It's okay, Gwen. Whatever it is, we'll get through it together."