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being taught the trick the Atlantideans knew and had learned to cast his spirit forth and live the life of
others, though not as yet for long.
So this was the courting Corenice had so long awaited and that had been so long postponed. They
journeye,d together in the world of water as mer-man and mer-maiden, although when Flann saw
Gwalchmai lying upon his bed-with eyes closed, he supposed that his friend was asleep.
Despite the natural jealousy, they were friends the more so because Flann did not nurture illusions and
false hopes.
He had been a thrall. He did not expect Thyra to forget. He would never be able to forget it himself.
Then the spring came and it was the time of pairing, when girl and boy find each other good to look upon
in their youth and their elders smile upon them remembering.
Flann was alone on the beach, mending a boat, for Gwalchmai and Corenice had strolled into the hills,
hand in hand. His heart was lorn and his thoughts were bleak. He would finish his work, provision the
boat, and row away, never to come back.
Possibly it would be better to go out to sea with the leak unpatched. What, after all, was there in life
without Thyra? Not at all unusual thoughts in spring but perhaps Flann s musings were darker than
most, for his misunderstandings were deeper than those of other men.
The two who perplexed him were behaving quite sedately, sitting and watching, by the edge of a warm
little pond where two stately trumpeter swans were circling. Corenice was silent, for* she was
remembering the swan-ships of Atlantis and all the beauty and pride and grandeur that was gone forever.
Gwalchmai s thoughts were elsewhere.
The swans were coming to an understanding. They laid their bills together and dabbled at one another s
feathers. They intertwined their long necks and murmured, deep in their throats. It was easy to believe
that they spoke oft love and shared dreams and plans as human lovers do.
Gwalchmai said, Trumpeter swans mate for life. If one dies, then the other pines away.
So it should be, agreed Corenice. If you were to really die, I would not want to live. It was only
because I did not know that I could wait so long for you.
And yet, we have each other not, my dear one, nor ever will, it seems, while we live thus and you keep
your promise to this other one you dwell with! ,
It is not my house, she reminded him, gently. I am only a guest in it. I must not forget and you must
help me to remember.
I am not made of iron, Corenice, and I love you.
Then there was a long silence. The gulls swooped overhead, peering down with their bright eyes. The
ducks were busily at Work, marking out their territories, gathering materials for their nests. Every living
creature in sight, it seemed to Gwalchmai, was with a mate.
Even the lordly pair in the pool were content with each other. Only the two humans were so far
apart though-seeming to be so close.
How long must we wait, Corenice? How long shall our lives last, seeing that I have drunk the elixir of life
and you, * it seems, are immortal in the spirit? Suppose you feel that you must always give such a
promise to she whom you in-habit? "
Does it matter so much if you must needs practice patience for a little while, my heart s darling?
Only if one of our lives should end, for I do think our love will not. Why cannot we be as happy as those
swans, who need only each other to feel that they own the world? Why should we not be as they?
If we should become as they, it would mean that we would never part, said Corenice, with
unaccustomed shyness for her.
We knew that long ago! Are you not content?
Then let it be as you say!
Gwalchmai closed his eyes and lay back upon the moss. The huge swan lifted his head and stared around
at them, as Corenice bent over the apparently sleeping man and kissed him tenderly.
The swan gave forth a clarion call and beat the water into froth with his wings.
I am coming! I am coming! laughed Corenice.
A second later, the swan s mate spread her ten-foot pinions and leaped into the air, to be followed
immediately into the heights. They swooped down and up again, in a mad race, hastening into the sky,
then falling with furled wings until they almost touched the ground, scattering the gulls, buffeting away the
sticks and grass the ducks had heaped together.
They called to each other with their glorious ringing voices, like silver trumpets challenging the angels who
man the ramparts of the castles of the clouds.
Then they glided down, merging then: reflections with their bodies and came to rest together in the little
pond.
Now they were alone, for Thyra, knowing all that Corenice had known, radiantly blessed them as they
flew and went down to the village to seek out Flann.
The pond was still and no ripples stirred upon it. The royal couple floated side by side upon its glassy
surface without moving.
Finally, as though such happiness as they shared could no longer be borne quietly, they soared again into
the blue.
They rose as one, in an ever-widening spiral, singing their joy a full-toned bugling that drifted down to
Flann and Thyra, lost in each other s eyes, the boat long forgotten.
Into the sky rose the regal pair, still circling, still growing smaller, until they could only be heard, calling
and answering and ever rising higher until their great sweeping round brought them far out over the
southern sea.
This, their wedding this, their nuptial flight.
Then far, far along that distant edge of haze where ocean meets the sky many miles away, even from
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