The Carnelian Legacy by Cheryl Koevoet Page B

country and he was more than capable of doing serious damage to a girl’s heart.
    She shifted her attention back to their surroundings. For the next few hours, the group climbed higher toward the snow-capped peaks. They crossed alpine meadows where flowers in every color of the rainbow dotted the pastures like colorful mosaics. Later, they passed through narrow valleys where emerald hills climbed steeply at sixty-degree angles.
    As the men’s chatter eventually fell silent, Marisa closed her eyes and listened to the horses’ hooves meeting the road. Birds squawked high in the air, and for a few minutes, none from the party disturbed the majestic stillness.
    No car horns, no sirens. No jet planes overhead, no throngs of people yammering into their cell phones or shouting to hail a cab. The breathtaking beauty engulfed and soothed her, and for a little while at least, her soul felt at peace.
     

     
    As the party descended over the rocky terrain, Marisa leaned out around the soldier to check on Arrie. Although his face was pale from exhaustion and he winced each time the horse stepped into a rut, he seemed to be recovering. One of the warriors had bound his wound to help prevent it from becoming infected.
    Satisfied that he was okay, her thoughts turned to Mark and Uncle Al. They must have gotten really worried when she never came home the night before. Members of the Jacksonville police, neighbors, and other friends in their tight-knit community had probably been up all night combing the area for her. Her uncle had probably figured out early on where she’d gone. If she ever made it back home, she could expect a serious grounding. She didn’t care, as long as it meant getting back home safe and sound again.
    Her eyes moistened as she thought of all the people worrying about her. The burden of what her friends and family must be feeling made her cry. As the tears began to overflow and run down her cheeks, the bottled-up emotions from previous days erupted to the surface. For the first time in her life, she couldn’t go to her father to make it all better. She leaned her head against Siena’s and cried.
    Talvan spotted her slumped over her horse and removed his helmet. When he saw Marisa sobbing, he quickly spun around and motioned to Darian.
    “Time to stop for a break,” Talvan shouted. The men saw Marisa’s head buried in Siena’s mane and exchanged knowing glances.
    Darian turned to the youngest warrior. “Take the horses down to let them drink.”
    “Yes, sire.”
    All of the men except Arrie and Talvan left with their horses to go down to the river.
    “Why don’t you two rest by the river for a few minutes as well?” Darian suggested.
    Talvan and Arrie both said nothing but just nodded and hurried off.
    Marisa wiped her eyes and climbed down but clung to her horse. She pressed her cheek against Siena’s as her weeping turned into sobbing.
    All of a sudden, strong arms enveloped her and Marisa turned her tearstained face toward Darian’s. As he gazed down at her, she thought he was going to kiss her but he pulled her tightly into his chest instead. He stroked her hair softly as she mourned the father she’d never see again.
    “Marisa, I’m truly sorry. The worst kind of pain the world has to offer can be found in losing a loved one.”
    As her cheek pressed firmly against him, she could hear his heart beating, solid and strong. Slowly, she opened her eyes and saw that they were all alone.
    “Sit here while I fetch you a drink of water,” he said.
    Once he was out of sight, she wiped her tears on her sleeve and groaned, knowing that she must look awful.
    From out of nowhere, a distant memory flashed through her mind. Marisa was only seven when she was out walking in the woods with her father after the death of her mother. He had explained to Marisa that there was no such thing as coincidence and that everyone’s fate was ruled by their destiny. Wondering how her coming to Carnelia figured into her