Swirling snow clouded the great gates of Andelph, and Moonstone shivered in a bitter wind, yet he stood as if rooted to the spot. In truth, he was afraid to enter. He had ridden slowly from Sanddeep, ruminating on the finality of his plans. Now, he had to choose his path.

"Idiot." He cursed himself, shaking his head. "You know damn well you're goin' in. Gonna stand out here till ya get frostbite first?" With that, he stepped into the passage. It opened onto an immense hall carved into the heart of the mountain in the Dwarven style. From his left, plumes of steam drifted lazily, and he soon found their source, a cavernous room containing a heated swimming pool. Casually stripping naked, he waded in, letting the hot water dispel the chill.

Half an hour later he was warm and hungry. Wandering under the vaulted ceiling, so high that he couldn't quite see the upper reaches, he came upon dining tables set out on the plaza beside a little cart where tantalizing aromas beckoned. The food vendor seemed surprised that an Elf wanted to try the local specialties.

"What brings ye to Andelph?" she asked him.

"Lookin' for a metalsmith to make some rings. They say Dwarves are the best there is."

"Aye." She smiled. "Go see my cousin. Beautiful work he does."

Moon swore in frustration. He'd been lost in the labyrinth of the city's lower levels for an hour, even though he'd tried to follow the food seller's directions. He was sure he'd been down this corridor at least twice already. Turning back, he walked with his head down, paying little attention to where he was going. When at last he looked up, he spied a small sign in the distance, and upon coming closer, found that it read "Fine Metalwork, Ornaments, Blades." He went into the shop and the proprietor looked up from his workbench.

"What can I do for ye?"

"Need some rings made; they gotta be perfect though. I got gems to set in 'em too." Moon went on to describe the rings in detail, saving the most important one for last.

"Who's the lucky lass?" the Dwarf inquired.

"He ain't no lass." One side of Moonstone's mouth curled into a smirk. "I can vouch for that."

"Ach, yer one o' them."

For that, the smith was met with a glare that would have made roses wilt. "Guess somebody else might want this 5000 gold then."

"Now, lad, I meant nothin' by that!" It was comical how quickly he changed his tune at the mention of gold.

Three days later, Moon rode out of Andelph carrying two tiny velvet pouches. Nestled within each one was a pair of exquisite rings. The food vendor had been right about the quality of her cousin's work.

Moonstone had sworn he would never return to Gweonid, yet here he was, on his way to the very place where the worst years of his life had been spent. He knew only one mage who could perform the enchantment he wanted, his old teacher.

The shabby cluster of buildings was tucked into a clearing in a remote corner of the forest, and he had been contemplating it for even longer than he had stared at the gates of Andelph. A voice behind him interrupted his thoughts.

"Is that really Moonstone?"

He spun around and was face to face with Yanoris, the most powerful mage and alchemist he knew of.

"Uh, yeah, obviously it's me."

"And still surly as ever, I see." But his teacher smiled as he said this. "I am most surprised to find you here. In fact, I am surprised to see you're alive and well." Moonstone had been sent here to study alchemy and magic after his troublemaking had transgressed even his mother's minimal limits.

"Come inside and tell me what brings you here, for it surely cannot be simple nostalgia."

To explain his visit, Moon laid the first pair of rings on the small table between the teacups. They were identical in design, engraved gold bands, each set with an emerald.

"Remember when my mother took me to the Rum Runner festival? She did that 'cause she was goin' away to sea for a long time. She married some Harani merchant, been a client of hers for years." He paused, looking doubtful. "You do know about her, uh, profession, right?"

Yanoris looked amused. "You were born in the Entertainment District of Caernord. When I asked who your father was, she said she didn't know. I did not require a mage's sight to discern what she did for a living."

"I still got no idea who my father was." This had always bothered Moonstone. Back in Caernord, though, he'd considered himself lucky. He had a home and a mother who didn't come in drunk and beat him. That was more than most of the kids who ran in the streets with him could say.

"I do not know who he was either, but I can tell you that he was human. I can see that in you, and so could the other students who were gifted with the sight. It was part of the reason they treated you so abominably."

From the first day he had arrived, they'd bullied him mercilessly, until he snapped and broke someone's arm. For the remainder of his years at the school, everyone avoided him.

"You know why she sent me here?"

This time Yanoris looked thoughtful. "She never would say exactly what you had done. I agreed to take you on as a student only because our families had been friends for generations. To my surprise, you proved worthy, even if you did use your talents to make illicit potions." Moon had concocted a few mixtures he used for sneaky retaliation against his fellow students' mistreatment.

"I ain't much of a mage." Moonstone shook his head.

"Although it is true that your talent with magic is somewhat limited, you were remarkably adept with alchemy. And I respected you for staying with your studies in spite of everything."

"Respected? Me?" That was something Moonstone had never imagined possible. "Nah, my mother woulda killed me if I left."

"I have known your mother since she was a small girl. She was always rebellious, always wild. But she would never kill her own son. Now, tell me, what did you do that caused her to send you here?"

Moon laughed. "She really wouldn't tell ya? She caught me sellin' my ass to sailors. Ain't like she never did that."

Yanoris raised an eyebrow. "You were little more than a child at the time."

"In hindsight, yeah..." Moonstone looked uncharacteristically serious. "I'd be dead by now if she didn't send me here. Anyway..." He tapped the smaller of the two rings.

"This one's just somethin' nice for her. She cared for me, I owe her for that. Nobody else did. But her husband ain't a young man." Moonstone held up the larger ring. "Can you enchant this to make him live longer than normal? Give 'em a few more years together?"

The mage nodded. "This can be done. But it is not your true purpose here, is it?"

Moonstone shook his head. "I got another set of rings." He laid them on the table too. Both were crafted of electrum. One was set with a milky white moonstone, the other with a ruby. The gem merchant at Glitterstone Mine had told him it wasn't valuable because it was a purple-pink color rather than a true red. But it was a perfect match for Mulberry's fuchsia hair and violet eyes.

Yanoris studied them for a moment. "Someone managed to pierce the armor that clad your heart."

"Pierce ain't the right word." Moon was now staring intently at the floor. "He's more like water wearin' down a stone. After I was done with school, I drifted with no place to live for two years, stole stuff, whored around, sold potions that..." He winced. "I don't even wanna know what they did with those. He saw what that life was doin' to me, and he built me a house."

He could still picture the little farmhouse on the north coast of Cinderstone as it was the first time he saw it, the bay trees and irises planted around the stone foundation, the alchemist's workbench inside at the window, the small table and two chairs out front, overlooking the sea.

Mulberry had apologized for only being able to afford a simple house in this inelegant location. But after he left, Moonstone sat on the bed — his own bed, something he had not had in years — and cried. He didn't deserve such a magnanimous gift.

"Tell me, how did you meet?" Yanoris inquired.

"It's a kinda long story." Moon wasn't entirely sure he wanted to tell it.

"I have time. And I am certain it will be most fascinating." The mage was genuinely curious; only a saint or a fool would have chosen to love his young student.

Moon sighed, and began, without enthusiasm, to recount his first meeting with Mulberry. Memory flooded in as he spoke, the details as vivid as if no time at all had passed — the roar of the rushing river, the snippets of a hundred conversations. He was back at Rum Runner Rapids, four years previous.

Moonstone glared at the sunlight sparkling on the river, and at the people cheering entusiastically for the barrel racers. He didn't want to be at the festival, but his mother had arranged to take him for a holiday before she left. She would be away at sea for many months with her new husband. And Moonstone was losing the only person who had ever cared for him.

A voice, speaking very bad Nuian, interrupted from beside him. "Hi! Are you an Elf?"

He spun to face a Harani boy with a fuchsia ponytail. "What!" He snarled in Haranyan. "What does it matter?"

The boy's eyes grew very large. "I'm...I'm sorry! I didn't mean to offend you. I was only curious because I know most everyone here, but I've never seen anyone like you before."

And then the boy pointed at the river. "The race is about to start! Look, there's Snowberry, my sister! She's so good at racing barrels!"

Moonstone scanned the contestants, but they all seemed to be Firran. "Where?" He was curious in spite of himself.

"Farthest on the left, the girl with pure white fur." Maybe this boy was insane. Or simple-minded.

Moon stared at him. "Your sister...is a Firran?"

"Oh." He looked flustered. "Well, I call her my sister! We grew up together, from the time we were babies. My parents are archaeologists, they study the old Firran empire. We lived in a little Firran village." The race began, and all was lost in the cheers of the crowd. "Come on!" The boy yelled above the din. "Let's go see if she won!"

Mostly because it was better than standing there alone, Moonstone went. The boy — who turned out to be named Mulberry — really did seem to know everybody. There was a dizzying round of introductions and parties with food and drink, and racing on the river, and happy chatter. And for once, no one was hateful to him. At sunset he was invited to dinner with Mulberry's families, Harani and Firran.

In the days that followed, they talked of their lives growing up, they compared notes on the different kinds of magic they each knew, they told stories about the places they'd been.

One evening Mulberry pointed up at a towering column of rock. "I'm climbing up there to watch the sunrise tomorrow. I do it every year. Will you come with me?" Moonstone looked dubious. "It's easier than it looks. I know a path, you can walk most of the way."

The next morning they set off in darkness, and soon he discovered that, yes, there was a path, but it consisted of a narrow ribbon, barely visible in the moonlight, between the face of the rock tower and a terrifying drop to the valley floor. He tried not to look down. Near the top they paused to rest on a ledge and Mulberry laid a hand on his arm.

"You're shaking! I'm so sorry, it was stupid of me to ask you to do this. I've been climbing since I was little and I never even considered that it might be frightening."

Moonstone only shook his head. "Just shut up and go!"

Speaking softly, Mulberry guided him over the final formations, telling him where to place his hands and feet, how to move. The top was broad and flat like a plate, and they sat with their backs to a large boulder, Moonstone wrapping his arms tightly around his knees, still shaking violently.

Mulberry moved very close and put an arm around him. "Come here, lean on me, I'll hold you."

Moonstone snapped at him. "It's fine. I'll be all right!"

He was surprised to hear anger in his friend's response. "Don't lie to me. We both know that isn't true."

He let himself be embraced then. They remained like that, quietly, as his fear subsided, as the deep purple clouds became lavender, then pink and gold, as birds greeted the morning, as the rays of dawn lit the world in glory. When full daylight came they glided down, spiraling slowly over the festival and the silver river, until they landed and went to eat breakfast.

On the eve of the festival's last day, he asked Mulberry to spend the night with him. "You're almost 21 and you've never been with anybody." He had tried, and failed, to imagine how that was possible. "My first time hurt like hell. Bastard knew it too. Got excited when I started cryin'. If I ever see that fucker again, he's gettin' my knee in his balls." He looked ferocious. "I won't do that to you." For a long moment Mulberry regarded him sadly, as if he couldn't think what to say.

"What. You don't trust me." Moonstone's expression turned even more angry.

There was another, longer pause, then the words came slowly, softly. "No, Moonstone, you don't trust me. If we do this now...because of the way your life has been...you'll close your heart to protect it. I couldn't bear that." Tears shone in his eyes.

For Moonstone sex was currency, to be exchanged for acceptance, for comfort, for food and shelter. But here, he had food and shelter. He'd already been given acceptance and comfort. What was left?

"Fine then. Just stay with me. I'll keep my hands outta your pants, I promise."

"Think you can?" Mulberry grinned impishly, and Moon couldn't help smiling too.

"Asshole." He tackled Mulberry and they both fell over laughing.

"I kept that promise. Only time in my life I ever did that." With that he came back to the present.

"I almost lost him once by my own stupidity. Took that much to make me see. He stood by me while I played around with any guy who was cute and willing. Told him he should try it too. Can ya imagine never bein' with anybody but me? Thought he should at least know what it was like with somebody else, but he just never tried."

Then, one day, a passing Harani man found Mulberry irresistible, and charmed him into a passionate romance.

"I let him go. I thought he'd be like me, just fool around for a while, and then it'd be over." Only too late did Moonstone understand how different they were; Mulberry was utterly incapable of not putting his heart into such a liaison.

For many weeks, they did not see each other, though there were occasional letters from Mulberry, sent from far-flung points of the map. Moon was miserable, all the more so when his friends Emberly and Hawthorne invited him to their wedding. As he watched the ceremony, it hit him that he'd thrown away the only love he had ever had.

Not knowing what else to do, he turned to Snowberry.

"Write a letter," she advised him. "Tell him that you understand now how mistaken you were. But you must also accept that it may be too late. If he has given his word, he will stand by it at any cost. This is simply his nature."

"Maybe he never loved me at all, maybe he just stayed 'cause he didn't have anything better."

She regarded him as one might a petulant child. "He loves you, he always will. You do not know how many times he cried for fear you would never return his love."

"That don't matter now! He's gone. Everybody I ever had is gone."

She took his hand. "I know it is not the same at all, but you still have me."

He lost what little composure he'd maintained, and yelled at her. "Oh, come on, Snow! We both know you only put up with me because of him."

The tips of her fangs peeked out from a tiny smile. "At first," she said softly, "that was true. I considered him foolish for his devotion to one so undeserving."

Moon had to admit he'd been a terrible boyfriend, moody and unpredictable, with no understanding of what it meant to care for someone. And the more he had felt his heart being slowly drawn into the open, the more he had struggled to keep his distance.

Snow continued, "But in time, I learned to see through your mask, as he must have done from the beginning. Now, you are my brother for as long as I remain in this world."

He knew enough about their culture to realize he'd been granted the highest honor an ordinary Firran could bestow on an outsider. He bowed his head. It was a gesture of humility and respect. But mostly, it hid the tears in his eyes.

As suddenly as he had come into Mulberry's life, his Harani lover one day announced that he had to leave and might never come back. Mulberry was both crushed and relieved, for it cleared the way for him to return to Moonstone.

Tell me, why does he love you?" The question cut into Moonstone's thoughts.

"Insanity, maybe? I got no friggin' idea." Ordinarily Moon would have used a much cruder term.

"Moonstone." This was the stern teacher's voice he remembered. "You are a grown man now. There is no need to look at the ground the way you did as a child. Look up."

He raised his gaze to see a blue-green light blaze in the mage's hand, and the world tilted out from beneath him. Through a misty veil, he could see Mulberry's mischievous smile.

"Ask him why he loves you."

"Aside from you being the most beautiful man I know?" Mulberry giggled, then became somber. "You are what I could never be. I feel free with you. I don't have to live up to anything."

The vision melted away, but the veil remained, and he squirmed as his heart and mind were scrutinized by the mage's sight. Then Moonstone was back in the forest hut. He no longer had secrets; they'd all been exposed by the charm.

His teacher regarded him thoughtfully. "You are sure you want to go through with this?"

Moonstone sat with his sleeve rolled up, ready for the extraction of the blood that would be used to write the spells for the enchantment. Yanoris readied a small obsidian blade and a cup carved of pellucid crystal. Into it he poured a shallow pool of shimmering golden fluid, then dipped the blade into that, and sliced a vein as he held Moon's arm over the cup.

Liquid fire shot up his arm, and he gripped the table's edge with his other hand in an attempt to stop shaking. Though he squeezed his eyes shut, tears rolled down his cheeks.

"This is intended to hurt," the mage told him, "to test the resolve of the one who desires such a grave enchantment. Do you wish me to stop?"

"No!" Moon realized he was shouting. "Uh, no. My friend Emberly tells me I'm a baby." He tried to laugh but couldn't; he could barely manage to speak.

After what seemed an eternity, the cup was full enough. Quickly, Yanoris applied a salve to the arm and bandaged it; then, before the blood could begin to set, he swirled the contents of two vials into it, dipped his pen, and began to inscribe three small parchments.

While the spells were drying, he laid both rings in the last bit of blood and covered the cup with a square of red silk. As he spoke an intricate incantation, a light began to appear under the cloth, growing brighter until Moonstone had to avert his gaze. With a sudden metallic clink, it was extinguished. All traces of blood had vanished, and the rings were entwined, seamlessly, like links in a chain.

"Now, pay close attention. This first spell, you will need to cast it just before you put the rings on. It will break the physical link and replace it with a magical one that can never be severed. The parchment itself will be consumed in the transition." Yanoris rolled the spell and tied it with a bit of green ribbon.

"This one," he explained as he held up the second scroll, "is for your love. He must keep it somewhere safe. Should there ever come a day that he wishes to be released from the union, he can do this by casting the spell." He rolled it and tied it with a red-violet ribbon.

"And this third one is for you. It works exactly as his does. The only other way to remove these rings, once they are on your fingers, is for the wearer to die."

He looked into Moonstone's eyes intently. "You must ensure that he understands fully what wearing this ring entails, give him time to think it over. By putting these on, you both seal your fates, for if either of you dies, the other will die along with him. And if either of you casts the spell to remove his ring, it will kill the other."

Moon smiled. "It's exactly like I wanted. I ain't gonna live without him." He still couldn't quite believe a powerful mage had agreed to do this for him, nor that his teacher had respected his determination in spite of his misbehavior.

And so he rode home carrying the three parchments and two rings inextricably entwined, at last at peace with a choice that would one day cost him his life. And this, he thought, was the best bargain he had ever made.