released others from my service.”
Morgan felt as if a fist had been released in the center of his chest. “Then you have no objection if I stay.”
“Hardly.” Conn smiled thinly. “Why do you think I left you behind when Lucy and I returned to Sanctuary?”
Morgan frowned. “To recover from the crossing.”
“I am not so tenderhearted,” Conn said. “Dylan needs you here. I want you here. One warden is not enough to guard the
next generation.”
The next generation. “ Hope for the future ,” Conn had called them. Dylan‟s child. Margred‟s child.
Zack.
Whatever future Zachary chose for himself, he needed to be trained in survival and in magic. In the past few months, he
had proven himself a focused and determined pupil.
“I want options,” the boy had explained seriously when his father had complimented his progress.
Morgan looked at Conn and raised his eyebrows. “I could hardly have been your first choice. Given my prejudice against
humankind.”
Conn smiled coolly. “It was my hope that World‟s End would provide an opportunity for you to change your mind.”
“Or an opportunity to rid yourself of a troublesome rival?”
Conn met his eyes in acknowledgment. “Either way, my strategy worked.”
Morgan flashed his teeth. “Indeed.”
But it wasn‟t his mind that had changed.
It was his heart.
Still, he forced himself to ask, “What of the northern deeps?”
Conn‟s expression was bleak. “The deeps are wounded almost beyond repair. On our return, Lucy and I go north to seal the
seas around Yn Eslynn. After that . . . Any thoughts on who might replace you there?”
Morgan considered the wardens who sat on the council. “Enya.”
“She is not finfolk.”
“But she is fierce.”
“Yes.” The sea lord‟s gaze strayed to his consort in the second row. “Enya, too, might benefit from time away from
Sanctuary.”
Music rolled from the organ. Conn took his place beside Lucy as the congregation stirred and the air quivered in
anticipation.
Morgan‟s heart raced. Yet his face remained calm, his gaze fixed on the door. He had not let himself feel anything, even
hope, for such a long time. And now . . .
Light spilled from the back of the church. Emily appeared in the widening crack, dressed in seashell pink, a crown of
flowers pinned securely to her halo of dark curls. Bodies shifted. Necks craned. A murmur rose. For a second, the child froze,
rehearsal forgotten.
Morgan caught her anxious gaze and slowly winked.
Her stiff little face relaxed. Clutching her posy, she tripped forward.
Morgan‟s gaze moved beyond her to a grinning Regina, vivid in a deep rose sheath that hugged her post-baby curves.
The music changed, flowed, sure and triumphant. Morgan was aware of Zachary beside him, compulsively patting his
pocket for the rings. The doors flung wide.
And framed against the light was his heart, his hope, his love.
Elizabeth.
She walked alone, a vision in silk the color of sea foam, its shades shifting from gray to pink to pearl. But it was the glow
in her eyes that stilled his breath, that warmed his blood.
So beautiful she was, strong and beautiful.
He would love her as long as he lived, until the seas ran dry.
Liz was glad now she had let Regina and Margred talk her out of the sensible suit she‟d first selected for her wedding.
Walking toward Morgan, she felt beautiful. Like a bride. She felt loved.