All Hallow's Eve (2 page)

This Sword would be the key! Choosing a child to inhabit this time, a friend to the heir of the title Keeper of the Sword,
Cher-nog
could remain
near
to
this
family
;
it
would follow
the Sword upon its delivery
when
the next Soul Mate was named. Finally, the
B
east would be able to
identify the High
Priestess of
Sanun
!

And so,
for
the present
,
this
Olc
would make
i
ts home at
the place called Pemberley.

C
hapter
1

October 31, 1811
-
All
H
a
llow’s
Eve

Elizabeth
Bennet
strode
quickly into the night. Grateful that this year the path was lit by the full moon, she headed for a particular meadow near the outskirts of her father’s land, surrounded by a grove of apple trees on one side and woods on th
e other. There, years ago, her g
rand
mother
had instructed her
on
how to perform an ancient ritual—much more complicated than any other she had been taught.

Although she knew she would perform her duty tonight in a way that would make her grandmother proud, she wished Grandmama could be here walking beside her now as she had for the past seven years on All Hallow’s Eve.

While gather
ing the
herbs and berries that
were required
to be freshly procured for the brew she must drink tonight, she thought back to her thirteenth birthday—the day Grandmama had revealed to her
the family
secret and spoke
n
of their shared destiny.

That day, and every other in which she would perform an official duty, her grandmother had worn a simple dress underneath an elegant, maroon cloak, fastened near her collarbone with
a
pennanular broach. The cloak was long, almost brushing the ground, traditionally designating her family to be of very high rank among the ancient Tribes, according to her grandmother. The broach bore two symbols: a family seal and an
e
labora
te
design indicative of her position within the Tribes—the High Priestess of
Sanun
.

As
Elizabeth’s fingers moved automatically to the same pennanular broach at the base of her
own
neck
,
an echo of
her grandmother’s words
rang out in her mind.

“My dear Elizabeth, you have now reached the age where you must be told of our past and of your future.
Along with many of our ancestors, you and I have
been
ordained by destiny to perform
an an
cient and solemn ritual,
the ceremony of
Sanun
.
We alone can give the dead the gift of communic
ation directly with the living
for a few short hours.

“But, be warned!
Should we make
even the smallest
of
error
s
, the rite not only would allow the
H
arm
less
S
ouls to be free in the
world
, but
we
would set the
‘
harmful
’
Olc
souls free as well
.”

The familiar pulling sensation and unique vibration of the meadow
 
demanded her attention, rousing Elizabeth from her ruminations. Even as
 
a child
,
she had felt there was something special about the meadow and grove, as if it called out for her. Years later
she realized
that o
n All Hallow's Eve, these sensations became much stronger.

As she entered the grove and gazed upon the meadow
through the trees
, Elizabeth reminisced about the first time she had witnessed her grandmother perform the
Sanun
. She had met her ancestors that night.
Also introduced were t
he antecedents of those who would become important to
her
in the future, but only by first name—she was not permitted to learn the identities of those she would come to love, especially not those of her Soul Mate.

N
ervous
excitement
coursed through her
as she began to gather the wood that her sisters had helped her conceal around the outskirts of the meadow over the past several weeks.
This was the first All Hallow’s Eve since
her grandmother
had passed into the Otherworld, leaving Elizabeth with the title of High Priestess of
Sanun
, the highest position within the Tribes
. It was also
the first ritual that she would perform alone.

Using
only her hands and two sticks,
she lit the bonfire
in the ancient way
. The
Sanun
had begun.

~%~

M
ore than any other night
of the year,
Fitzwilliam Darcy looked forward to his slumber on the final night of October
. Though he would never admit it to anyone, beginning the year that his mother had died, every All Hallow’s Eve, William had experienced a realistic dream during which he seemed to be able to converse with his mother. Years later, after his father had passed on, both his parents would appear together in his dream.

T
he need to speak to his parents
seemed
more urgent
tonight
than
in years
past,
and so
he retir
ed
earlier than was his habit. Anticipating the dream too greatly, he did nothing but
toss and turn for hours
before deciding
to go for a walk
in an effort to exhaust himself
.

Exiting
the house,
he
stopped to admire the
blood-red F
ull
Hunter’s M
oon
rising
from behind Oakham Mount
,
filling
a good portion of the sky
.
Always the
eff
icient, planning sort of man, he felt that
even t
hough he
had
become well acquainted with
the area
after spending such a great deal of time riding to escape his hostesses’ unwelcome attentions,
having an obvious landmark while walking out at night would be prudent
. He
head
ed
toward the Mount
.

As his feet wandered the land, his thoughts wandered to
the
place they could often be found of late—a pair of fine eyes and the superior lady to whom they belonged. He had thoroughly enjoyed closely observing the lady over the past weeks
, and n
o matter how hard he had tried, he could not find her wanting
—
other
than the deficiencies in her social s
tanding,
connexion
s, and dowry
.
S
trange that the moment he
had
laid eyes on Elizabeth, he
had begun
to doubt th
is
philosophy
of which
he had
previously
b
een convinced
—
that
these three qualities were the most important a lady could possess.

How a handsome lady of her low social status could have developed
such
an advanced mind as Elizabeth possessed was beyond him. Most of the population of Meryton did not understand even half of the true meaning of what she said
. H
e was certain the same could be said of the inhabitants of
the highest social circles of
London if she ever had the opportunity of spending much time
in their company
. Her wit and vivacity mesmerized him. That she had not spent every meeting chasing after his financial and social assets was in her
favour
as well. No, he could not deny his attraction to her in every way possible.

Looking about, he found that he had walked farther than he had intended.
H
oping to be able to catch a glimpse of her home
while he was there, h
e began to climb Oakham Mount
.

At the
very
moment William reached the crest and looked up at the full moon, he realized he could no longer deny what he felt
—
not
to himself, not to anyone. Thinking of a future without Elizabeth Bennet at his side was physically painful to him, and he could not force his mind to make the attempt any longer. He
would
pursue the lady who held his heart in her hands! Relief swept over him as it never had before, and he knew
t
his decision
to be
the correct one.

St
ar
ing
over the treetops at the spire of Longbourn’s roof,
he
wonder
ed
if, by
chance, she was dreaming of him.
Unexpectedly, t
he sound of Elizabeth’s unmistakable voice echoed through the woods, returning William’s thoughts to the present.

The song she sang was in a language unfamiliar to him. It was beautiful, almost magical somehow.
H
er sweet chants resonated throughout the surrounding woods, making it seem as if it originated from all directions
, though
he could tell she was
some distance away
from him
.
H
is eyes were drawn toward a movement in the sky
—
a
single plume of smoke rising from within the trees.
Without conscious thought, h
is feet took him
in that direction.

The closer he drew to her voice, the more he felt that what he was doing was ridiculous, and the less he cared. Only when he saw the light of the fire through the trees did he realize how large it was
—
more
like
a bonfire than the campfire he
had
expected.
R
each
ing
the edge of the clearing, he stopped, captivated by the
vision
before him.

Elizabeth was alone, wearing a thin, low-cut
gown that
clung to her every curve most alluringly. With the fire behind her, it was apparent
that she was wearing none of the usual undergarments that he purchased for his sister. She was dancing an intricate, graceful dance, still singing the same song that had acted on him more like a siren’s call. Her hair was loose, her dark curls flowing freely well past her waist
, winding about her torso
and
floating
out behind her
as she danced
. She was absolutely magnificent!

Fearing that if she became aware of his presence it might hasten an end to this vision, he lowered himself to sit on a fallen tree. Here, he would be hidden from her view if she happened to look his way, but he would be able to continue to observe her every movement.

The song and dance slowed, and seemed to be
ending
. Elizabeth came to a stop and slowly raised her face and arms up to the sky.

As the last note faded, William rubbed his eyes in disbelief. Fearful for Elizabeth’s safety, his first impulse had been to rush forward and protect her, but something was keeping him rooted in place—instinct stronger than any he had experienced in the past told him that
he
must not interrupt what was unfolding in the meadow.

He watched, wondering if this was all a dream, as Elizabeth began to glow with a white light almost blinding in its intensity. Small fragments of light began to break off from that surrounding her and travelled through the air around the meadow. When it came to a stop, each portion
of light swelled into the shape of a person. The light would fade, and in its place there would be a lady or man,
and occasionally
a child, where none had been before. Though not quite solid, William could recognize some of the clothing they wore from sketches and paintings he had previously examined in books and museums. These beings seemed to represent places
spanning the world and extending across time, past and present
—j
udging
from some of their costumes, perhaps even be
fore
recorded history.