"I might think so, if I believed that something like that would make the

slightest bit of difference to you, but I know you too well, kiddo. I can

hear

it in your voice too."

"Maybe it's just the runestones," she said, turning away and going back into

the

bedroom. "We're all sort of spiritually bonded. Maybe that's all it is."

"Maybe. What do you think?"

She spun around. "What do you mean, what do I think? I just told you what I

think. Why don't you just come out and say what's on your mind?"

"I love you."

"Oh, shit." She turned around, sighing with exasperation.

"You said to say what's on my mind."

"Yeah, well, you would say that! What, have you been taking guilt-trip

lessons

from your broom?"

"Is that what you think I'm trying to do?"

"Well, what are you trying to do?"

"I'm only trying to find out how you feel," said Wyrdrune. "I'll tell you how

I

feel. I have a feeling that we're getting into something very heavy here, and

I

don't mean potential problems with our relationship. The last time our

milestones started glowing, we became involved in a direct confrontation with

the Dark Ones. And if you'll recall what happened, we almost lost our lives

because Modred broke the link when Morgana was attacked."

"What are you saying, that he shouldn't have tried to help his own mother,

for

God's sake?" said Kira.

"This is going to sound terribly cold, and I'm sorry for that," Wyrdrune said

gravely, "but it was too late for Morgana, anyway." He gently took her by the

shoulders and looked into her eyes. "Because Modred broke the link between us

at

the crucial moment, we were unable to contain the Dark Ones, and now there's

no

way of knowing how many of them managed to escape. Now we bear the

responsibility for that, all three of us, not just Modred. We can't afford to

think of our own priorities any longer. None of us is entirely an individual

anymore. On one hand, there's the three of us—you, me, and Modred—and on the

other hand, We're each much more man mat. The life forces of the Council of

the

White have been passed on to us through the runestones. And they're changing

us.

Every day, in some small way, we're changing, becoming much more than what we

were before."

He released her, took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and rubbed his aching

forehead.