Shadows and Light (46 page)

Great Mother, let Morag’s reaction be for some personal or foolish reason. I don’t want this man’s blood on my hands. I don’t want that fine, blazing spirit to leave the world. Let him do the sensible thing and just stay in his room, resting
.

“Rider coming!”

Ashk raised her head at the cry. No tension in the voice that had called the warning. No, the voice had sounded almost … cheerful.

One glimpse of the horse and rider had her on her feet, running toward them. “Padrick! Padrick!”

He was off his horse and running to meet her. Swept her into his arms and off her feet.

She threw her arms around his neck and held on tight, her eyes filling with tears of relief even while she laughed. “You’re home. You’re finally home.”

He pressed his face against her hair. She felt him tremble as his arms tightened around her.

“Are you well, Ashk? Are you and the children well?”

“We’re well, Padrick. Better now that you’re home. And you?”

He eased back enough to look at her. His hand shook when he brushed her hair away from her face. “I came as soon as I could. They swore to me you were safe. They swore it. I couldn’t have — I had duties, Ashk, but I would have left everything else and come here first if they hadn’t sworn to me —”

She pressed her fingers against his mouth. “You had duties to your people, just as I have duties to mine.” She frowned. Her fingers lifted away from his mouth. “Who swore to you?”

“Forrester.” Padrick looked a little uncomfortable. “After the Black Coats’ attack here, he began riding out each morning with a few men to check for signs of those nighthunters.”

“Some of my men have been doing the same.”

“Yes. Well, your men and mine …and Neall…would often meet on one of the trails …”

“And Forrester was reassured each morning that the baron’s wife and children were safe and well.” Well, that explained how her men were able to tell her each day that the people at the manor house and the tenant farms were safe. And it explained why those men had been a bit vague about how they’d come by the information. “If it eased your heart, I’m glad they exchanged news. I wish they had been able to tell me the same about you.”

“I was … detained. A young baron needed help, and after what I saw on the journey to his home, I’ll do whatever it takes to stop the Black Coats and the barons who follow them. But I’m sorry I wasn’t here when you needed me. I’m sorry about your grandfather, Ashk. I’m grateful to him for giving his life to save Evan, but I’m sorry you lost him that way.”

Ashk shook her head. The grief was still raw, and grief wasn’t what she wanted to share with him right now. “There’s much we need to talk about, but not yet. Not now.”

“What then?”

“A nap.”

His expression was uncertain, but his eyes began to twinkle. “A nap.”

Wrapping arms around each other’s waists, they walked to the Clan house.

“Yes,” Ashk said. “You’ve had a long journey and a difficult morning. A short nap would do you good.”

“How short?”

“Oh, an hour or so.”

“Will I get any sleep while I’m taking this nap?” “I don’t think so.”

He laughed, and she hoped the world, and their duties in it, would leave them alone for a little while.

* * *

Calm
, Morag thought as the dark horse galloped along the wide forest trail.
Stay calm. If you go galloping back to the cottage, you’ll do the very thing you wanted to avoid
.

Light pressure on the reins signaled the dark horse to ease back to a canter.

It had been foolish to run like that, but she’d reacted without thinking. Or, to be truthful, her thoughts when she’d seen Aiden had focused on one thing: the Inquisitors’ attack and the worry about the nighthunters still in the woods had been enough of a shock for Ari. She didn’t want the young witch to have any more surprises right now.

But she shouldn’t have run like that. A few minutes to greet Aiden and Lyrra, a private minute with Ashk, and she could have left easily enough and talked to Ari before anyone else came by and mentioned the Bard and the Muse were at the Clan house.

As soon as she reached the open land around the cottage, she saw Ari sitting on the bench by the kitchen door, spinning thread for her weavings. Merle lay in front of her, watching the spindle.

Morag reined in and dismounted. Merle glanced at her, waved the tip of his tail in greeting, then returned his attention to the spindle.

Ari glanced at Morag, too. “Spinning may be work, but it’s sitting down work,” she said defensively. Then said, “No,” as Merle stretched his neck, his nose — and teeth — close to the spindle.

“Problem?” Morag asked, looking at the two of them as she sat down beside Ari.

“Merle thinks a spindle is a dog toy just because it’s made out of wood.”

Merle gave Morag a doggy grin, making Morag wonder if the shadow hound really had any interest in the spindle or was simply playing his own version of “tease the witch.”

After wrapping the thread around the spindle, Ari put it in the basket beside her. “I thought you were going back to the Clan house for a while.”

“I was — and I am. I —”Exasperated with herself, Morag huffed out a breath. If she’d been thinking, she would have talked to Neall first.

“Morag?” Tension tightened Ari’s voice. “What’s wrong? Has something happened?”

“No,” Morag said quickly. She rested a hand on Ari’s arm. Felt the muscles quiver. “No,” she said again, striving to sound calm. She sighed. “I’m upsetting you, and that’s exactly what I didn’t want to have happen.”

“Just tell me.”

“The Bard and the Muse are at the Clan house.”

Ari stared blankly at her for a moment. “Aiden and Lyrra? What brings them —?” She paled. “Will they tell Lucian about me?”

Morag shook her head. “They don’t know you’re here. And they won’t know unless you want us to tell them. If you don’t want to see them, Ashk and I can make sure they don’t come to this part of the Old Place. I wanted to tell you because I didn’t want you to drive up to the Clan house and meet them unexpectedly.” She paused. “I’m sorry I upset you.”

Ari shook her head. “I’m glad you told me.” Then she added, “I liked them, Aiden and Lyrra. Sometimes I’ve wished I could hear them sing again, and I would like to see them. But not if they’ll tell Lucian or Dianna that I’m here.”

Morag hesitated. Then, remembering the way Lucian almost accepted her bargain, almost traded his life to bring Ari back when he thought the Inquisitors had killed her, she asked the question she’d wanted to ask since she moved into the cottage with Ari and Neall. “If you’d had a choice … if you hadn’t been bound by the magic in the fancy to accept him, would you have taken Lucian as a lover?”

Ari looked out over the meadow. “I don’t know. He was …exciting, but I wanted more than trinkets, and that’s all he had to give. I think he cared about me, at least a little, and I cared about him. But caring isn’t the same as love. There never would have been love. And yet I can’t regret what happened because it was one of the things that made it easier to leave Brightwood, and in the end, it brought me here.” She rested one hand on her round belly. “With Neall.”

Morag stood up. “As long as you’re all right about them being here, I need to get back. I left in a bit of a hurry, and I may have some rough edges to smooth over with Ashk.”

Ari gave Morag a thoughtful look. “If Neall and I come to dinner at the Clan house tonight, do you think that would help smooth those rough edges?”

“Yes, it would help. But if you come, you’ll have to stay overnight. Until we’re sure we’ve destroyed all the night-hunters, it wouldn’t be safe for the two of you to drive back through the woods.”

“I know. I’ll talk to Neall as soon as he gets back.”

“I’m glad you want to see them.”

“I liked them.” Ari made a face. “And I’ll like Aiden even better if he doesn’t make me sing.”

Feeling easier, Morag rode back to the Clan house — and hoped nothing had happened that would make it impossible to smooth those rough edges.

Lyrra stepped out of the women’s communal room and tried not to sigh. She would have gladly spent the day in that room, soaking in the deep tub of hot water, sitting by the window and daydreaming, or napping on one of the daybeds and not feeling awkward about the folded towels under her hips. Privacy and rest. She craved it this time with a need that made her want to weep. But she couldn’t leave Aiden alone in the room they’d been given, worried and brooding, and until they knew why Ashk had turned on
them, she didn’t want to leave herself in a position where she and Aiden could be easily separated.

A door a little farther down the corridor opened. Ashk stepped out, hesitated, then approached.

“Do you have everything you need?” Ashk asked politely.

“Yes, thank you,” Lyrra replied, equally polite.

She had the sense that Ashk felt awkward around her. She hoped so. If you threatened to kill someone, you shouldn’t feel small civilities made up for it.

Why did you turn on us?
Maybe she would have asked that question, woman to woman, if she hadn’t heard the sound of other women’s voices and knew the moment to ask the question had been lost.

Then Morag turned the corner and stopped suddenly when she saw them.

Lyrra noticed the tension building in Ashk. She wanted to get out of that corridor, away from Ashk and Morag. She wanted the reassurance that Aiden was safe.

“You left in a hurry,” Ashk said quietly.

“Yes,” Morag replied. “For that, I owe you and Aiden an apology, Lyrra.”

Morag looked uncertain, and Lyrra discovered it wasn’t something she liked seeing in the Gatherer.

“When you saw us, why did you ride away like that?” Lyrra asked.

Morag looked at Ashk while answering the question. “I thought their being here might bring up memories that were … distressing … especially after the attack by the Black Coats.”

“Were the memories distressing?” Ashk asked.

“No.”

Lyrra frowned. She’d asked the question, but only Morag and Ashk understood the answer.

Then Morag looked at her. “Ari is here.”

“Ari?” Lyrra’s heart gave a funny little jump before settling back to a proper rhythm. She took a step toward
Morag. “Ari is
here?
She’s well? And …and Neall? Is he here with her? Is he well?”

“They’re both well. She carries their first child.”

Lyrra laughed while tears filled her eyes. “Oh, this is wonderful! Aiden will be so pleased. Do you think —?” She looked into Morag’s dark eyes and some of the pleasure drained away. Black Coats attacking. Morag galloping away from the Clan house after seeing them, worried about distressing memories.

“You thought our being here would upset her?”

“Yes.”

You’re here, Morag. Why wouldn’t your presence upset her just as much?
She knew the answer to that. She and Aiden had come with Dianna to celebrate the Summer Solstice with Ari, and, while they’d meant no harm, they hadn’t come honestly. They’d used the glamour to wear a human face and hide that they were Fae. They hadn’t known the magic Ari would call up when she did the spiral dance would reveal them for what they were. Their reasons hadn’t been cruel, but they had lied to her. They’d all lied to her. Except Morag. Morag had come to Brightwood as who and what she was. And in the end, she was the one who had helped Ari and Neall get away from Brightwood, from the Inquisitors — and from Lucian and Dianna.

Lyrra wiped the tears that dampened her cheeks. “I understand. Is it likely that she’ll come to the Clan house? Aiden and I … We’ll stay out of sight.” It hurt more than she expected to say that.

Morag shook her head. “She’d like to see you and Aiden — as long as Aiden doesn’t make her sing.”

Lyrra opened her mouth to make a hurried assurance, then just sighed. “When it comes to Aiden and hearing a new song, I’m not willing to promise anything. Although, I suppose I could threaten to sing loudly and off-key for the next month if he pesters her.”

“That sounds like a suitable punishment,” Ashk said dryly.

Lyrra nodded. “For Aiden it would be.” Morag looked at Ashk. “Neall and Ari may be coming for the evening meal.”

“They’ll have to stay until morning,” Ashk said. “I already told her that.”

Lyrra glanced at each of them and realized Morag and Ashk not only understood each other, but they also felt equally protective of Ari and Neall.

“If you’ll excuse me,” Lyrra said. “I’d better get back to Aiden.”

“Ari was hoping you and Aiden would be willing to sing a few songs this evening,” Morag said.

“It would be our pleasure.” Smiling at both of them, she hurried through the corridors of that part of the Clan house until she reached the room she and Aiden had been given.

He was still sitting on the window seat, silent. He stood quickly when she rushed across the room. When she threw her arms around his neck, he held her tightly against him.

“Lyrra?” he said worriedly.

She leaned back, and she knew he didn’t understand the tears welling up again as she smiled at him. But he would. Oh, he would.

“Aiden, I have wonderful news.”

Morag watched Lyrra hurry away before turning back to face Ashk. “I apologize if my hasty departure caused a problem.”

Ashk shrugged. “Nothing an apology from me can’t mend. And if it can’t be mended, so be it.”

Morag studied Ashk. “When I got back to the Clan house, I talked to a couple of the hunters standing watch. They told me Aiden and Lyrra would be killed if they tried to leave. Those were your orders.”

Ashk met her eyes without flinching, without regret. “Those were my orders. Now that I know why you left so hastily, I’ll withdraw that command.” She took a deep breath, let it out slowly. “I’m glad they didn’t test my sincerity.”

“Did you really think the Bard and the Muse were a threat?”

Ashk shook her head. “If they’d truly been a threat to the Clan, or to anyone else in Bretonwood, you wouldn’t have run, Morag. You would have killed them yourself.”

Ashk settled on one of the benches that formed a halfcircle in front of the Clan house. Aiden and Lyrra took the center bench, quietly tuning instruments in preparation for the evening’s entertainment.