Enchanted Moon (Moon Magick Book II) (12 page)

“Aye, well, I thank you for helping me solve the
mystery.”

“Our pleasure. Put a dent in our autumn doldrums. All
the quiet these days makes a man miss a good, old-fashioned raid.”

“I suppose we ought to clean it up.” His thoughts were
again on Breanne’s disappointment. She had loved her mentor dearly. He’d been a
father to her when hers had passed. More so even than her uncle-cum-stepfather.

Seamus bellowed a deep guffaw. “That, my friend, is as
tempting as a lift in the frost of winter. You’re on your own there, I’m
afeared.”

Quinlan groaned. “Aye, well, will you tell Niall what
you’ve found?”

“Most certainly,” Seamus waved the parchment high.

“Might I see that once more?”

Shrugging, Seamus handed it to him, then moved past,
hollering for his men that it was time to depart. Quinlan unrolled the
parchment again, scanning the depiction again. He didn’t recognize the language
or symbols, but he was betting Breanne would. How could he talk Seamus out of
taking this? He turned the parchment over and scowled. A small drawing in blue
ink at the lower corner drew his attention. It was of a teardrop-shaped orb at
the end of a chain. A pendant.

Why did it look so familiar?

“Ailyn,” he whispered, his mind filling with the
glimpse of the pendant that had peaked above her breasts just hours before as
she stood in Breanne’s home, her eyes asking him for help.

He’d ignored the plea in them, wary of coming to her
aid any further.

The odds of her wearing a pendant so like one found on
a parchment hidden in a wall were too high to be coincidental. At every turn since
the moment he’d met her, trouble followed close on her heels. Why not this,
too?

Jamison peered in at the doorframe. “D’ye need help
cleaning up your mess there, Quinlan?” His breath smelled of whiskey. He jabbed
a thumb in the direction of the room.

“Right and fine of you to offer, Jamison, but I’ll
take care of it.” Quinlan took in his ruddy features, the curved, pale mark
receding into the his beard’s jagged hairline. “I’m glad to bring this to Niall
myself.”

Jamison’s eyes went to the parchment. He schooled his
expression. “Sorry, friend. Seamus wants to deliver it at once. He’s quite
taken with it, he is.”

Quinlan had no choice but to reluctantly hand it over.
He’d have to convince Niall to allow Breanne to see it. Shouldna be difficult.
She was his niece and stepdaughter, after all.

Chapter Twelve

“If Quinlan doesna join you, try not to worry,”
Breanne said, brushing at her brother’s sleeve where a stray cat hair had
clung.

From atop her horse, Ailyn looked to be waiting with
every bit of patience she could muster.

“I’m not worried, Breanne. You are. Ashlon trained me
well. I’ll keep us safe.”

Aye, her husband had seen to it that Danny could
always protect himself and her if need be, despite his youthful frail stature.
He was finally filling out into manhood, but it was difficult to see him as the
strong one. “She’s a bit overwhelmed, so spoon-feed anything else she’s wanting
to know, will you?”

“We’ve gone over this,” Danny quietly scolded, taking
her shoulders. “If you’ve seen Quinlan there, then I trust he will come. If he
does not, then I trust that as well. I’ve seen and collected enough of the
texts to navigate her safely on our own. Dinna worry yourself into labor.”

Breanne nodded. No matter how many years now the
visions came, doubts soon followed. The images of Quinlan standing behind
Ailyn, guiding her arm to swing a heavy blade; Ailyn’s pendant glittering pale
blue in the moonlight; a pool shimmering behind them; fog trailing along the
edges, wrapping around their ankles. Then the vision had evaporated.

The images were only part of the full message, though.
The emotions that welled up her chest as she experienced them were what told
the story. Quinlan was meant to aid Ailyn on this journey. She was the warrior
the Fae prophecy spoke of. She trusted Danny’s deciphering. She’d seen the
drawing herself.

The pendant matched. The details measured up.

“We’ll be back in less than a fortnight,” he assured
her.

If only she knew what would interest Quinlan in
becoming involved. Should she be telling him what her visions foretold? Or did
she trust it to destiny, and hope naught else entangled him? How often had
Heremon pressed upon her that an Ovate’s first duty was to the truth?
Manipulations of that truth were a sure way to doom all involved.

“All will be well,” she said, out to convince herself
as much as Danny.

The niggling doubts crept to the fore, regardless.
What if her vision was of some different point in time altogether? Like the
vision of her daughter. It had come three years ago, and in the space between,
Breanne nigh lost her senses, so wrapped in expectancy as she had become. Thank
Brigit for Rose.

Her oldest, dearest friend knew plenty about
motherhood and had helped Breanne appreciate the few years she would have
before that blessing. If only her friend could comfort her through this wait as
well.

“If not, send Colm to track us,” Danny said, adjusting
his mantle for travel.

Breanne perked up at that. Of course! Colm. She could
ask the wolf to follow them, just in case. At least until Quinlan joined them.
If
he joined them. Should Quinlan not
come or, worse, should danger follow, Colm could aid in protecting Ailyn. Or
return with news of their safety.

Danny hugged her tightly once more then turned to join
Ailyn.

“Danny?” she said, reaching for him once more. “Dinna
let your guard down. No matter what. Even if Quinlan manages to join you. There
is a chance I’m entirely wrong in my conclusions, and as yet I canno’ tell who
else pursues the stones. Whoever it is. I feel a blackness in them unlike
anything I’ve ever encountered.”

Danny met her plea with a solemn nod. “I swear it,
Breanne. I’ll take every care.”

Breanne released a pent up breath. Aye, she trusted he
would. Knowing she could do little more, she watched him mount, waved farewell
and sent a prayer to any who might hear to watch over her brother. She’d nearly
lost him once. She could not endure it again.

~

The sun’s rays broke through the thick cloud cover of
a mild morning, lighting the dewy ground. Ailyn couldn’t take her eyes off of
the unusual beauty of the grays and golds and greens of this mortal world. The
clip of the horses’ hooves, the creak of their supplies and saddles joined the
cacophony of sounds in the wood. It took discipline to keep her attention on
the sights and sounds this morning. Her mind wanted to return to last night, to
the twists and turns of Breanne’s explanations around her many, many questions.

A few hours before dawn, though, certain of only one
thing—that she needed sleep—Ailyn chose to digest the mounds of
information at a later point when she could focus. Better to stay alert for
now, because when Breanne answered her foremost question—who was the “he”
Breanne had seen in her vision?—everything changed.

Breanne did not know.

But she swore Ailyn would recognize him once he
neared.

By his presence and his mark.

She had naively believed matters could not get worse.
The queen dead, Maera missing and wounded, Colm transformed into a wolf,
trapped in the human realm with her people’s future uncertain. What could
worsen matters?

Not knowing.

Knowledge gave her certainty. At least a sense of it
that allowed her to stay present and alert, as her training dictated. But
Breanne did not know who “he” was. She had only a description of the man and a
keen sense of his intentions.
He
was
here in the mortal realm, too. For some time now,
he
had been passing between the two realms and searching for the
stones. If
he
discovered the triad
and brought them together, the two worlds would return to their original state
as one. Fae and mortals together.

Why would any Fae wish for such a terrible thing? They
would die out within a generation.

“We’ll crest that hill and ride east. At sunset we’ll
rest,” Danny called from his horse a furlong in front of hers.

Ailyn nodded when he looked back for a response. Then
she kept her eyes ahead, feeling the movement beneath her, thankful for the
dapple-gray mare. Thankful for the sun warming the day when it peeked through.
She had to keep her mind away from all the questions. They would only swirl
around her and suck her deeper into fear ,for she had few answers. So much
remained unknown, such as where were the stones? What were their powers? How
did she sift through legend and truth? Danny promised to share more today.

When she was ready.

She wasna ready. Not for more tales and fewer real
answers. Better to stay in the moment, watch the sky, hear the chirping, smell
the
frangrant
, earthy air and, remembering here and
now she was safe. She was safe. Colm was safe. Maera, too.

What did Danny keeping looking left for? Ailyn scanned
the tree line, too. But she saw no movement, nothing to cause worry. Yet she
began to feel…watched.

Before
he does.

The pit of her stomach felt a substantial weight
inside. Already, she feared she knew all too well who
he
was.

Kristoph.

The pale blue eyes Breanne had described matched the
queen’s foremost aide’s well. The height and build. The obsession for power. Or
was Ailyn mistakenly placing the one vile man she knew into the role, clouding
her own
judgement
, making her unable to assess who
truly belonged there?

It was all too much at once.

She focused back to the horse, the wood they rode
alongside, the well- worn trail. The horse ahead of her. Danny. His lean frame.
The way he looked left. Again. Why was he looking left so oft? Ailyn squinted
in the same direction, but again spotted nothing amiss. What did she know of
mortal behavior, she reminded herself. He could simply be enjoying the view.

Or remaining alert.

As she should be.

A faint snap perked the horse’s ears. Danny slowed his
mount so that hers closed their distance.

“We’ll take turns leading,” he said with a polite
smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Ailyn moved to ask why, but thought better of it.
Because really, why not? The trail was laid out clearly. She could lead as
easily as he. She took the lead, picking up the pace, letting her senses tune
into the feeling that something was in that wood. Danny must sense it, too.

Perhaps her escort was more capable than she first
thought. Still, taking the lead and feeling her dagger strapped tight to her
right thigh gave her confidence. She sorely missed her bow and arrows,
particularly being astride as she was, but it couldn’t be helped.

Her mare’s ears pricked to attention, then tucked a
bit back. “What is it, girl?” she asked. Could the horse sense the same wary
agitation as Ailyn? Did she hear something Ailyn could not?

Ailyn clucked her tongue, urging the mare into a
faster pace. The hoofbeats behind her let her know that Danny kept up. Whatever
lay in those woods, they’d soon be left behind. Just ahead around the bend, the
trees looked to thin out, leaving craggy hill and dark, muddy patches in its
place.

“Keep her away from the bogs,” Danny called out.

Ailyn glanced back, shaking her head, not understanding.
Danny pointed at the dark puddles. “Bogs. She’s scared of them.”

On a nod, Ailyn guided her mare to the far left of the
trail, putting them closer to the tree line but that would soon cease to
matter. The mare’s ears tucked again. She let out a whinny. Alarm shot through
Ailyn. Something—someone—was in that wood. She could feel it.

She urged her mare again, digging her heels into her
haunches. “Give me all you’ve got, darling.” The mare complied, but within a
few gallops, she could hear that Danny was not keeping up. Oh, how she wished
Quinlan were here. Glancing back, she saw just how great a lead she’d gained.
The end of that wood was too close to give up now, though. Better to give the
mare her head and wait for Danny to catch up ahead. “Go!”

The wind breathed on her cheeks and fingered her
tightly bound hair. Ailyn leaned down, moving as one with the horse, drinking
in the feel of the speed. Gallop by gallop, she escaped the dark feeling in the
wood. Closer and closer, she gained safe ground. The edges of trees gave way to
rock and dirt, moss and grass. She pulled the reins in, slowing the mare.

Alive is what she felt for one brief moment.
Gloriously alive. Free. Capable and safe.

The mare slowed to a trot, then a walk. Ailyn veered
her head around so that she could watch Danny catch up.

She released a soft laugh, giving the mare a good pat
on her neck. “Good girl! Have they named you yet?” She’d have to ask Danny. She
would love to name the beast. Fast, she was. And lithe. A real beauty. Where
was Danny? Surely she’d not gotten that far ahead. He should be coming through
at the bend by now.

Her good cheer eased back. Worry replaced it. She
should double back to make sure he was well. The thought of nearing that wood
again, though, gave her a pit of dread she couldn’t dismiss. Was it those woods
that she’d emerged into? It would explain much, considering all that transpired
there but two nights past.

The events felt so much farther past than a mere two
days. Rest, a bath, Breanne’s clearly well intended help put matters into
enough perspective, she supposed, that she’d gained a sense of acceptance about
her current lot. In truth, her feelings of helplessness had vanished. She was
not powerless to her circumstances. There were actions she could take. Solutions
she could participate in. She could locate the stones.

She nudged her mare forward, her worry for Danny
growing. She strained to hear signs of his approach. Naught but the wind. Not
even a sparrow’s call met her ears. “Danny?” she called through both hands
cupped at her mouth.

Movement at the tree line caught her eyes, startling
her. The outline of a man on horseback could be seen through the trees. She
breathed out. Perhaps he had felt it, too and was scouting the area. “Danny!”
she called again, waving her arms to show him where she was.

The horse wove through the trees toward her. A thought
struck her. What if it was not Danny atop the horse at all? Could it be
Quinlan? But what would he be doing here? Oh, it mattered little. She was too
hopeful by half to question what brought him here. Certainly Breanne would have
sent him.

She clucked the mare forward, waving an arm in the air
again so that he might spot her. She peered down the trail before leaving it,
but not seeing Danny, could guess that Quinlan would know where the younger man
had gone. She trotted her mount to just outside the edge of the wood, fighting
back a wide grin.

The horse broke through the trees, and disappointment
spiraled down Ailyn’s stomach. Not Quinlan. “Danny.” She cleared her throat.
“There you are. I was worried when you didna follow.”

“Aye,” he said. “I’m sure we’re safe as babes, but I
prefer you dinna go off on your own like that again, Ailyn. You’ve no call to
trust me yet, but considering our foe and task at hand, at the least, stay
close.”

Warmth spread up her cheeks. He was right. “I
apologize.”