Shadows and Light (49 page)

“Yes, he stood with you, and he stood by us during the green years. But the season has changed, Ashk, and Sylvalan needs the Hunter. So I have to let you go.”

Ashk swallowed the tears. She drew in a breath and choked on a sob.

“No,” Padrick murmured, cradling her. “No regrets, Ashk. No tears. We’ll get through this. We will. The seasons will turn again, and we’ll have more green years ahead of us.”

“I don’t want to leave you and the children.”

“I know. We’ll be here, waiting for you.”

Ashk wiped her eyes. After a long pause, she said, “I’m going to cut my hair.”

Padrick shifted, propping himself on one elbow to look down at her. “Cut your hair?”

He sounded so shocked, she almost smiled. “I can’t take the chance of having a braid come loose and the hair tangling with the arrows when I need one.”

“I know, but … Will you braid it first so that it can be kept?”

Now she did smile. “I doubt Caitlin needs or wants her mother’s braided hair.”

His voice was rough with emotion. “I’m not asking for Caitlin.”

She nodded, afraid she’d end up weeping if she tried to speak. When she thought she had enough control, she took a deep breath, let it out in a sigh. “I’d better get it done.”

Padrick rolled, pinning her to the bed. “Not yet. The Hunter will rise from this bed, and that’s the way it needs to be. So let me make love to the Green Lady one last time.”

Ashk wrapped her arms around him. “One last time.”

G
ritty-eyed and achy from a restless night and too little sleep, Morag stepped out of the Clan house. She shivered in the cool morning air and wished she’d thought to bring a shawl with her. Usually she enjoyed the coolness of morning before the day yielded to summer heat. Now she wanted the heat and bright sunlight of midday. She wanted to sit somewhere open and quiet and let the heat bake the tension out of her body, melt the worry that had chased her through her dreams.

Sylvalan will change, no matter what Ashk decides today. The question is, can we live with how it changes?

Hearing movement behind her, Morag glanced over her shoulder. Aiden and Lyrra stood in the doorway, looking at the Fae who were helping themselves to tea and hot breads from the outdoor stove. Neither of them looked like they’d had an easy night.

“Blessings of the day to you, Morag,” Aiden said. “Blessings of the day,” Morag replied. She looked at Lyrra, then at the Fae going about their usual morning tasks. “They’re no different from who they were yesterday.” “I know,” Lyrra said. “But…”
But now you know why they’re different from us
. The rattle of wheels caught Morag’s attention. A few moments later, Ari and Neall arrived in the pony cart, followed by Morphia and Sheridan on horseback.

“Come along, then,” Morag said briskly. She headed for the large table, sure that Aiden and Lyrra would follow, if for no other reason than because Ari, Neall, and Morphia were familiar faces in a world that had turned strange.

“There was no reason for you to be bringing back all that food,” Beitris scolded. “You should have kept it so that you could have a rest day after the dance.” She set clean cups on the table while another woman brought over a pot of tea.

“We kept plenty,” Ari said. “The cold cellar is stuffed, isn’t it?” She turned to Neall as she said it.

“Stuffed,” Neall agreed, grinning.

Morag glanced at Morphia, then quickly looked away, biting her lower lip to keep from laughing. Watching Ari deal with this Clan’s Lady of the Hearth was always entertaining.

Beitris sniffed. “And I suppose the young Lord bundled you up and had you out the door this morning before you could have so much as a sip of tea.”

“No, he didn’t,” Ari huffed. “I had — Oh. What kind of bread is that?”

“Apple nut,” Beitris said. “Would you like to try a piece?”

“Yes, thank you.”

“Well,” Neall said. “So much for ‘I’m too full from last night’s meal to finish my porridge.’”

Ari scowled at him. “That was porridge. This isn’t.”

Nothing has changed
, Morag thought fondly, watching Neall pull out the bench to accommodate Ari’s belly.
And everything has changed
. Looking at the contentment on Sheridan’s face and Morphia’s heavy eyes, she didn’t think her sister had gotten much sleep last night either — and didn’t regret it.

If anyone else noticed that the Bard and the Muse remained strangely silent throughout the meal, no one mentioned it. It couldn’t be easy for either of them to be afraid of the person they had searched so hard to find.

Then Morphia said, “Oh, my.”

Turning on the bench to see what had caught Morphia’s attention, Morag watched Padrick and a slender man walk toward them. The stranger had short, ash-brown hair and woodland eyes, and looked so much like —

“Ashk?” Morag said hesitantly.

The man smiled. “Blessings of the day to you.” The timbre was a little lower, but it was still Ashk’s voice.

“Mother’s mercy,” Aiden said. “That’s how you did it.
That’s
why no one ever suspected the Hunter was a woman.”

“One can use the glamour for other things besides creating a human mask,” Ashk said.

“Did the old Lord of the Woods suspect you were a woman?” Lyrra asked.

Ashk’s smile turned feral, but Morag saw the slash of grief in her eyes.

“He was the one who taught me this mask,” Ashk said. “He said when the time came for me to take his place, the western Clans would accept me as the Green Lady but the Clans beyond the west never would. He believed the Lords who held the gift of the woods would feel compelled to challenge me over and over because the Hunter had always been the
Lord
of the Woods. Out of respect for him and kindness to me, the Clans here have kept my secret from the rest of the Fae. Now …” She shrugged. “That I’m a woman isn’t important. The power that I can wield is.” She looked at Aiden, who slowly rose to his feet to face her. “Do you still want the Hunter to go with you?”

Aiden swallowed hard. “Yes, I do.”

“Then I’ll go, and we’ll see what can be done about cleansing the Inquisitors from Sylvalan.”

“It won’t just be the Inquisitors you have to deal with, Ashk,” Morag said quietly. “Even if you use the glamour to look like a Lord, the Fae will resist you too, and the humans outside of the west may not be willing to accept the Fae’s presence.”

“If the barons command it, the people will accept it,” Padrick said. “I can be of some help with that.”

“We won’t be taking land away from the humans,” Ashk said. “We’ll simply be taking back the Old Places.”

Last summer, I told the Master Inquisitor that the Fae were reclaiming the Old Places, but it never happened, and the slaughter of witches continued
, Morag thought.
If Ashk can really bring the Fae back to the world, then maybe we will be able to stop this
.

“It won’t be easy,” Morag said.

“No,” Ashk agreed, “it won’t be easy.”

Aiden was looking at her, his expression uneasy. She wasn’t even sure why she was resisting, except that Ashk was leaving her home and family without truly knowing how difficult the task ahead of her would be.

“How will you explain to the Small Folk and the witches and all the humans for whom the Fae mean nothing more than a seduction or taking their amusement at another person’s expense?” Morag asked. “What words can you say that will keep us from fighting among ourselves instead of fighting the enemy that wants to destroy us?”

“The words aren’t difficult.” Ashk turned and stared toward the east for a long time, as if she could see beyond the woods, beyond the rolling land, even beyond the Mother’s Hills. When she turned back, Morag was glad she had come to know the woman before meeting Ashk as the Hunter.

“This is what we will tell the Small Folk and the humans and the witches,” Ashk said softly. “Too long have we been absent. Now we have returned.”

My thanks to Blair Boone for continuing to be my first reader, to Jenny Wegrzyn for telling me all the things hawks don’t do so that I could justify why mine did them, to Kandra for her continued work on the Web site, and to Pat and Bill Feidner, just because.

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The Pillars of the World
— Book One

“Bishop only adds luster to her reputation for fine fantasy.”

— Booklist

“Reads like a beautiful ballad …Fans of romance and fantasy will delight in this engaging tale.”

— BookBrowser

“Provides plenty of thrills, faerie magic, human nastiness, and romance.”

— Locus

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Daughter of the Blood
— Book One

“A fabulous new talent …a uniquely realized fantasy filled with vibrant colors and rich textures. A wonderful new voice, Ms. Bishop holds us spellbound from the very first page.”

— Romantic Times (4½ stars)

“Lavishly sensual …a richly detailed world based on a reversal of standard genre clichés.”

— Library Journal

“Mystical, sensual, glittering with dark magic, Anne Bishop’s debut novel brings a strong new voice to the fantasy field.”

— Terri Windling, coeditor of
The Year’s Best Fantasy and Horror

Heir to the Shadows
— Book Two

“A rich and fascinatingly different dark fantasy, a series definitely worth checking out.”

—Locus

“Features a fascinating world consisting of three realms amply peopled with interesting … characters. Events are set in motion that will be resolved in one of the most eagerly awaited conclusions to a trilogy.”

— The Romance Reader

Queen of the Darkness
— Book Three

“As engaging, as strongly characterized, and as fully conceived as its predecessors …a perfect — and very moving — conclusion.”

— The SF Site

“A storyteller of stunning intensity, Ms. Bishop has a knack for appealing but complex characterization realized in a richly drawn, imaginative ambiance.”

— Romance Times

“A powerful finale for this fascinating uniquely dark trilogy.”

— Locus

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Daughter of the Blood
(Book One)

Heir to the Shadows
(Book Two)

Queen of the Darkness
(Book Three)

The Invisible Ring

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The Pillars of the World
(Book One)
Shadows and Light
(Book Two)
The House of Gaian
(Book Three)