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Authors: Lucy Monroe

BOOK: Dragon's Moon
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“You'd best decide if you want a mate, or not, young eagle.” Boisin narrowed his eyes at Lais, his expression turning crafty. “I've got a grandson who would find this little girl lovely indeed.”

“Want is not the problem,” Mairi said softly when Lais looked ready for an apoplectic attack.

Boisin shook his head. “Ah, the boy does not feel worthy.”

“I am no boy.” Lais had finally found his voice.

Boisin did not appear impressed. “Son, when you've lived the years I have, you can call
boy
those you like.”

Lais opened his mouth to argue, but Mairi shoved a goblet of wine into his hands. “You must be thirsty after seeing to the horses. Take a drink.”

Looking bewildered, the eagle obeyed, but as he lowered the goblet, his eyes focused on the carving.

Lais's goblet had a wolf with an eagle perched on its back. The other side had the Chrechte symbol for love and mating entwined as it often was in the markings used to signify a mating.

He studied the carving for several seconds in silence and then frowned at Boisin. “What does this mean?”

“It means that if you are man enough, your future can be brighter than you think you deserve.”

Lais shook his head, but did not reply. He moved to his usual spot…sentinel behind Mairi. Ciara noted that for
the first time since she'd met the other woman, the young seer looked unworried by anything.

Boisin pointed a gnarled finger toward Ciara. “I've waited long enough for your arrival as well, child. I was beginning to think I would die before you answered the call of the stone.”

“I am sorry.” Heat stole into her cheeks as shame at her own cowardice engulfed her.

“You learned to fear your gifts before you learned to use them.” The understanding in the old man's still bright gaze soothed the pain in Ciara's heart. “'Tis understandable, but 'tis also reason for rejoicing that you are here now.”

“You know of my dreams.”

“I have a story to tell you, child. Will you listen?”

“Yes.” How could she do anything else?

Boisin cleared his throat, took a sip of wine, and then cleared his throat again. When he began to speak, it was in a voice that could mesmerize an entire clan.

“In the days before our people settled into homes of wood and farming, the Chrechte wandered the earth. We hunted for our food and gathered what the earth provided. Some years were bountiful, some lean, but always we waged war for the right to hunt in bigger territories. Much as the clans fight for bigger borders on their holdings today. In those days, there were three races of the Chrechte. The Faol, a fierce people who shared their natures with the wolves.”

“I know what the Faol are,” Ciara said with a tinge of exasperation.

“A good story cannot be rushed.” Boisin frowned reprovingly. “And it loses its strength when you interrupt, do ye ken?”

Properly chastised, Ciara nodded. “I apologize.”

“'Tis understandable. You are impatient to reach the end of your journey, but if you rush, you may miss the signs for which way to go.”

“I understand.”

“Good. Now, as I was saying.” But he went through his sipping his wine and clearing his throat ritual again. At
this rate the elder was going to be inebriated before he finished his tale.

Ciara was determined not to interrupt the flow of words again.

“There were the Paindeal, another people fierce in battle and fond of war as well. They shared their natures with the big cats of prey and even a wolf would think twice before engaging them in battle. The final race were the Éan, the people of the Chrechte most likely to remember the true spiritual ways. Though they shared nature with eagles and hawks, birds of prey, they also shared their nature with the ravens, birds with no instinct to kill. 'Twas the ravens who were charged with keeping their sacred stone and designated the rulers of their people.”

Ciara had not known that, but it made sense to give those with the greatest power a nature not so warlike. The wolves and cats of prey did not have any species like the ravens in their races.

“Among the Paindeal their keepers of the stone came from the cats as black as night and larger than any wolf in the wild. But the wolves connected to the
Faolchú Chridhe
were white as the snow. The only wolves whose males had the ability to control their shift from their first transformation.”

He took a long drought from his goblet. “Each of the races had a protector. The Faol were protected by their
conriocht
, the Éan by the dragon and the Paindeal by the griffin.”

Ciara was not the only one to gasp at the confirmation that not only did Paindeal exist but they could become griffins.

“If you would lay your swords on the table,” Boisin said to Eirik.

“One is Ciara's.”

“Aye.”

Ciara nodded her assent when she realized Eirik was waiting for it. Both swords were laid carefully across the table, their hilts in easy reach of Eirik's big warrior's hands.

Boisin pointed to the handle of Ciara's sword with a finger shaky with age. “See for yourself. The
conriocht
, the dragon and the griffin.”

Ciara and Eirik had already seen the handles, but Lais and Mairi took a moment to look closely at the decoration on the swords.

“But then where are the Paindeal?” Eirik asked.

“All in good time, Éan prince. All in good time.”

Eirik sighed, but nodded.

Boisin cracked a grin. “Ah, the impatience of youth.”

“I apologize, elder,” Eirik said.

“No matter. Listen well, young prince and you will learn things the Éan have forgotten. Each race had its own particular strengths and weaknesses. The wolves reproduce with the most ease, though not as prolific as their human counterparts. The Paindeal healed from any illness or wound short of a mortal one with a shift. The Éan could shift at a younger age and were gifted with more seers and often had special Chrechte gifts with greater impact than their other brethren.”

“So, the Faol can have gifts like the Éan,” Ciara mused to herself.

Boisin didn't chide her for interrupting again, but nodded. “They can indeed, though only the Éan have healers like the eagle here, and only those found most worthy by the stone at that.”

“Oh.” Lais looked dumbstruck as he seemed to realize how very unique and special his gift was.

Mairi merely smiled and nodded at him serenely.

Ciara wondered what the seer had experienced in her dreams of the elder. Whatever it was, Mairi was obviously content to be at the old man's table and listening to his stories.

“In addition to having more children, the wolves' protectors were more numerous. The Paindeal had one, perhaps two griffins who would live for centuries. But when one died, it could be a generation or more before their stone called forth another. The same was true of the Éan's dragons.”

“Eirik is going to live hundreds of years?” Ciara asked in shock, forgetting her vow not to interrupt.

“Aye, barring treachery. He will. As will you.”

Hope blossomed inside her. “What do you mean?”

“You are the first true
kelle
born in more than a century. All others that have come before you failed to find the
Faolchú Chridhe
, but you will. And you will live to see your loved ones die, though not your mate.
You must live
, for you will save the Faol from utter destruction.”

Eirik reached over and took her hand. “All will be well,
faolán
.”

She tried to believe him, but the old seer's words were not comforting, despite his promise of long life for her and Eirik. “Utter destruction?” she asked in a hushed tone.

“Aye.” Sadness came over Boisin's features. “A plague is coming. A quickly spreading illness so great, the likes of it have never been seen before. Many will die here and in the lands across the sea. It will attack the Chrechte with even greater a virulence than it does the humans. Without the
Faolchú Chridhe
and its power to heal, the Faol will all die in that time.”

Horror sent chills through her.
“No.”

“Aye. A seer is not always pleased by his visions,” Boisin said, whether simply in acknowledgment or warning for Ciara and Mairi, she did not know. “You must follow the stone to its hiding place behind the stone wall that is not a wall at all and bring it to the sacred caves on Sinclair land. You will return it to its proper place in the cavern of the Faol. You will know this hidden cavern by the etchings on the wall.”

She thought of the cave she had seen in her vision and thought he was right, but that didn't help her in finding the stone or the hidden cavern for that matter. “I don't understand.”

“To be sure, I don't, either. If I did, I would tell you. My own family's descendants' lives depend on it.”

Chapter 21

Fortune and love favor the brave.

—O
VID

“B
ut why is the
Faolchú Chridhe
hidden to begin with?” Ciara asked.

“Because in the time so long ago, when our people wandered the earth, the high
kelle
had a son,” Boisin continued in his storyteller's voice. “And this woman of great strength and honor saw a lust for power in her only offspring. He wanted to be king, though his cousin who was but a child was heir to the Faol throne.”

“The high
kelle
's son thought he was superior to other Chrechte, that he deserved to be king. Fearghall believed men were more valuable than women and wolves more valuable than all. He devised a foul plan to ensure his ascendancy to the throne. Already a
conriocht
himself, he would take the
Faolchú Chridhe
and hide it so his young cousin could not be blessed with the spirit of the
conriocht
.”

“But the stone would call to the
kelle
. She would find it.”

“Not if she were dead,” Boisin said in a tone that sent shivers down Ciara's spine.

The others at the table looked equally affected and disgusted by the ancient Chrechte's plan.

“It is within the high
kelle
of the Faol's power to draw forth the
conriocht
. She can determine how many need to exist to protect a generation.” Boisin shook his head. “Fearghall knew this, but had convinced himself that he could control the
Faolchú Chridhe
on his own. The keepers of the stone have always been women though. The men of their families can draw on certain powers of the stone, but only the high
kelle
could bring them all forth. Only she can bestow the spirit of the
conriocht
through the laying of hands on the sacred stone.”

So, Galen would have failed in his quest even if the stone had been found…unless he had convinced Ciara to help him. The thought that he might have easily gotten her innocent still-child self to do so sent dread welling in her.

Apparently not bothered by such disturbing thoughts, Mairi gave a beatific smile to Ciara. “I told you.”

“You interpreted the meaning of your dreams correctly.” Boisin smiled at his new protégé. “That was well done.”

Mairi blushed at the praise.

“But the
kelle
hid the stone herself, didn't she?”

“Aye.”

“Why?” Eirik asked.

“Because she knew Fearghall didn't only plan to withhold the
conriocht
from his cousin. The
kelle
hid the stone to stop her son from creating an army of
conriocht
and destroying the other Chrechte, didn't she?” Ciara asked.

“She did.”

“But again, I ask, why?” Eirik's face was creased in a frown. “If only the high
kelle
could draw forth the
conriocht
, then Fearghall was bound to fail.”

“Not if he could intimidate or seduce the next high
kelle
into doing his bidding.” Mairi shivered. “A woman has to be very strong of mind to withstand beating after beating without giving her abuser exactly what he wants.”

“But you never gave in to your father,” Lais said with
fierce pride. “You never told him what you had seen in your dreams and visions about the
Faolchú Chridhe
.”

“He would have only beaten me in certainty I had more to give him.”

“You are wise for your young years, little Mairi,” Boisin said and then continued his tale. “Fearghall accused the Éan of stealing the stone when it was discovered missing and declared war on them. They were in a generation without a dragon and their people were nearly decimated before the few remaining took to the forests in the north in hiding, making their homes high in the trees away from those who hunted them.”

“But what of the Paindeal?” Eirik asked.

“They fought the Faol under Fearghall, but every death was a great loss to their race as not even a true mated couple could be guaranteed to produce shifting offspring.”

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