Moon Song by Elen Sentier Page B

as each stone fell into the water.
    ‘Isoldé! ’ he called. ‘ Isoldé! Come up and join me.’
    She stared. He was sat quite casually, swinging his legs over the vast head of water creaming its way through the hole in the rock below him. If he fell the water would thrash and mangle him on the sharp rocks below. She held her breath.
    ‘It’s OK,’ he called again. Somehow his voice was reaching her over the noise of the fall and without sounding as if he was shouting himself hoarse. ‘Come on up. It’s magical here.’
    ‘It’s magical down here too,’ she prevaricated.
    Who was he? How did he know her name? This was Mark’s land, Caergollo land. Surely he was trespassing?
    ‘I live here,’ he answered the question in her mind. ‘I’ve known Mark all his life and Tristan before him. Come up so we can get acquainted.’
    ‘I’m no good at heights,’ Isoldé stalled again. ‘You will be,’ he said.
    He was very attractive, long dark hair, olive skin, bright, merry eyes. He raised a hand, long brown fingers clicked thenbeckoned. Involuntarily Isoldé began walking back to the stone stairway. She half checked herself then snorted in amusement. ‘You want to go,’ she told herself, ‘and you nearly went there first, just now, anyway. That must be where the rock shelf leads.’
    She carried on up the steps and turned out onto the shelf. The path was narrow, slippery and uneven. True, there were trees beside the path, their tops coming up to her waist, which meant the drop must be at least thirty foot. Although the branches would break her fall she would be damaged. She had no confidence in the elf-man sat on the shelf being able to rescue her.
    She crept along with her back pressed against the cliff, sliding one foot along sideways and bringing the other up to it to get along, glad of the trees so she couldn’t actually see the drop. It seemed to take forever to go the few yards around the cliff until she could see him. He stood up lightly and stepped off the stone bridge to take her hand.
    ‘Come on,’ he said.
    His touch felt warm and cool at the same time, and she got a similar pulse through her fingers as had happened in the tunnel with her hands on the earth. She looked at him.
    He looked rather odd now she was up close, like a man but …those ears were slightly pointed, reminding her of Spock in Star Trek. The skin was brown but silvery-blue lines traced spiral patterns over his cheeks, forehead, hands and arms. And his eyes were golden, with vertical pupils like an owl.
    ‘It’s OK.’ He smiled reassuringly. ‘I won’t hurt you. Nor let any harm come to you.’
    For some completely crazy reason and quite unlike herself, Isoldé believed him. She let him lead her the last few feet to the end of the shelf and right out onto the narrow bridge which was the top of the hole through which the lower fall rushed. The noise was deafening and the rock trembled under her boots. He helped her sit down then sat beside her. Their legs dangled together some fifteen feet over the smooth, white curve of the water.
    He clicked his fingers again and the sound lessened, seemed to go into the background, like he’d found the volume-switch. ‘Better?’ he asked.
    It was. Her brain and mind felt less buffeted, the whole place was less in her face and she found she could think again. She nodded to him.
    ‘I’m Gideon.’ He held out his right hand, a bit awkwardly as they were sat so close together. She reached her right hand across her body to take it.
    ‘Isoldé,’ she said automatically, ‘but you already know that.’
    ‘I do.’ His eyes glinted as he took her hand and kissed her fingers.
    That took her breath away, she gasped. The touch of his mouth on her skin set up ripples in her belly. She felt the colour rushing up her neck into her face, looked down into the kieve and slowly pulled her hand out of his. It was hard, she felt she didn’t want to lose the touch of him and knew he was smiling at