It had been still early evening when, following Edward’s instructions, Tess found the ring nestled within the belly of the palm-sized bronze bird, just as he had described. She slipped it onto her fourth finger, barely registering its magnificent design and ran back to where Edward lay ominously still. As she watched, his chest had risen slightly with a shallow breath, and without opening his eyes, he addressed her. “Spin them,” he softly whispered the instruction. “The rings. Do you feel the attraction they have for each other?” She did. There was an invisible pull, a surge of warm pulsing energy in her hand. Edward reached out, his own hand feebly grasping her wrist. “Spin them again!” he commanded, the desperation in his voice coming through even in his throaty whisper. Tess didn’t move, confused and embarrassed that she was being drawn into such childish beliefs in magic. “The decision is yours,” he acknowledged when Tess hesitated, “but I have made mine.” He looked at her, his voice as soft as velvet.
