To Ride A Púca (34 page)

“They saw your scouts and they’re using them against you. You have to hurry. They’ll be here by the time the sun rises,” Tyr said.

The desperation written all over his face banished the last of Neala’s doubt.

“We have to at least try and delay them so our clan can escape. Can ye show me where they’ll be approachin’ from?”

His eyes closed and his head dropped. After a few deep breaths he met her gaze again. “Yes. But first you have to convince your parents to go somewhere safer,” he said.

“Easier said than done,” she mumbled as she reached for the door.

“I noticed,” Tyr said.

Neala left her mixed feelings over seeing Tyr again at the door. There was no time to deal with them now. The task ahead of her would take all of her focus. It was a relief that she wouldn’t have to talk to her parents alone. But how much help could one of the enemy be?

31

They hadn’t listened, of course they hadn’t. It was hard to concentrate on the landscape or what anyone was saying when all she could do was worry about her parents. Her Order, along with the other Order that made up the other half of their fiann, was gathered along a rocky cliff side. To their right lay the river and the forest stretching along its banks.

“They’ll come in along the bottom of this cliff, using it to hide themselves and the river to cover the noise,” Tyr explained.

Irial chewed on her bottom lip and nodded. She and Liam exchanged a look and then both smiled. Watching them closely, Neala tried to figure out what they were thinking.

“This will work Tyr, thank ye,” Liam said.

The sound of a longbow string being drawn followed Liam’s words. A sphere of dark green energy engulfed Tyr a heartbeat before an arrow flew at him. The arrow bounced harmlessly off the sphere. Neala spun and saw a bow in the hands of a man belonging to the other Order. Rage called up her power and she let it. She thrust her arm out, fingers pointed toward the man, and sent her power slamming into him. It hit him so hard it lifted him off his feet and threw him back.

The Rector of the other Order—a man who only had a few years on Liam—stepped between his fallen man and Neala.

“Ye would dare strike one of yer own for one of them?” he asked.

Anger burned its way through her veins, renewing her depleted power. Even at full strength she was no match for this Rector, Neala could tell with just one glance at the strong pulse of the man’s power. But she didn’t care. If she had to she’d fight him to protect Tyr. Irial stepped in front of her, the pressure of her power holding both Neala and the other Rector back.

“One of our own wouldn’t attack a man who was helpin’ us,” Irial said. Her tone was accusing and full of dangerous promise.

“He’s not a man, he’s a barbarian,” the Rector nearly growled.

“A barbarian who is savin’ the lives of our people!” Irial shouted.

Their power pressed against one another’s, crackling in its intensity. This was exactly why invaders kept taking their land. Neala couldn’t just watch it happen. She stepped beside Irial and put a hand on her shoulder. It wasn’t easy, like moving through deep water when you were exhausted.

“Stop. If we fight among ourselves then we only make it easier for them to defeat us,” Neala said.

The bowman stood up slowly, his furious eyes fixed on Neala. From behind those eyes she could feel the pressure of his power and knew he was a warrior druid. Another power drew her attention, an achingly familiar one.

Donal stepped beside her, from where she had no idea. His close proximity had a placating effect on her power. It had been his power that had stopped the arrow from killing Tyr, she was certain of it. She spared him a grateful look before turning her attention back to the other Order.  

The second Rector of the other Order—a short woman with her long hair wrapped up in a bun—moved to stand beside the male Rector and the bowman. The men’s rigid postures relaxed and the tension drained from their faces.

“Neala is right. The Dane has helped us. He will be unharmed so long as we do not meet on the battlefield,” the woman Rector said.

That wasn’t exactly comforting. Neala opened her mouth with a snide comment on her tongue but Irial’s hand wrapped around hers, silencing her. It wasn’t that she couldn’t speak, just that she knew Irial didn’t want her to. As much as she hated to admit it, Neala knew she was right. Confronting these dolts would have to wait until after the battle.

“Come on. We’ve got a battle to prepare for,” Liam said.

People started to work their way back to their horses, leaving Donal, Neala, Bren, and Tyr alone. Even Ciara abandoned her after a pat on the shoulder that was not comforting. Without her at her side Neala felt exposed. Hostility radiated out from Bren’s power. It was almost hot enough to burn her.

“Can ye two give me and Tyr a moment alone?”

Inclining his head ever so slightly to Tyr, Donal backed away. Bren didn’t budge. The anger didn’t reach his eyes but it didn’t have to, Neala could feel it wash over her as if a damn had been broken. The pain of it took her breath away. Her power rose up and shoved his away. He didn’t budge but she felt his power retreat to his core. The vulnerable look he gave her when he turned away broke her heart.

There was a long, awkward moment in which Bren and Tyr glared each other down.

“Please Bren,” Neala said.

He shot his vicious glare her direction. It stung for more reasons than one. Without a word, he turned and walked away. Tyr’s gaze shifted to Neala, the weight of his blue eyes immobilizing her. Several times he opened his mouth to speak but each time he closed it as if he couldn’t find the words.

“Thank ye. Ye took a huge risk in comin’ to help us,” Neala said.

“I’d do it again if I had to. What my father and his men are doing is wrong.”

His words tugged at her, making it hard for her to maintain eye contact with him. This boy was a contradiction to everything she thought she knew about Danes. He fascinated and confused her but more than anything, he made her wish they had met under different circumstances.

“I’m glad I met ye Tyr. I hope we see each other again when our people aren’t tryin’ to kill each other,” she said.

The sun shone off moisture in Tyr’s eyes but he blinked and it was gone. His face went so hard and serious Neala wasn’t sure she’d even seen the tears. Maybe it had been her imagination. Why would a Dane cry over her anyway?

“And I you, Neala O’Carroll. Take care of yourself,” he said, his voice dropping on the last part.

Blond waves of hair fell into his eyes as he dropped his head and hid his expression from her. That little way he had of being shy was one of the things she would really miss. His chest rose with a deep, shuddering breath then he spun on his heel and marched off to his horse. She couldn’t watch him leave, it hurt too much.

Putting on the best look of indifference she could manage, she turned back to Bren and Donal. Bren leaned against a rock with his arms crossed, watching her out of the corner of his eye. Hands resting on his sword belt, Donal was the picture of calm but he didn’t fool her. Neala could feel the nervous energy pulsing through his power.

Considering the harsh words Bren had thrown at her, he could wait. She moved toward Donal. Bren grunted and shook his head. A bit of tension eased from between her shoulders when he took several steps away. With his attitude, she wouldn’t be too sorry if he left. Ignoring him, she gave Donal her full attention.

“So, ye’re a horse,” she said.

Donal’s eyes flew open and he shook his head. “
Níl
, I’m a human who can shapeshift into a horse.”  

Crossing her arms over her chest, Neala considered this. “Ye realize that only sounds slightly better.”

Her eyes were drawn to his bottom lip as he pulled it between his teeth. She couldn’t help but remember how soft his lips had been upon hers, and how amazing their kiss had been. The train of thought was not helping. She shoved it back and tried to recall all she wanted to say.

“Why did ye think I didn’t like púcas?”

“Because of ye’re reaction anytime anyone would call me—I mean Dubh—one.”

He fidgeted with his sword belt, fingernails picking at the leather. Before she could think about it, she reached out and grabbed one of his dark-skinned hands. The urge to touch him, to comfort him, was too much to resist.

“I was only defendin’ ye. I thought púcas were evil creatures that took their riders to hell. I didn’t want people callin’ ye somethin’ that I thought was evil,” she nearly whispered.

Their gazes met and she was shaken by the insecurity she saw on his face. “But we’re not, evil that is.”

Somewhere behind them, someone let out a snorting laugh. Though the sound made her teeth clench, Neala ignored him.

“I know ye aren’t. I was wrong about púcas, I know that now,” she said.

Heavy footsteps approached. “
Tá
because I told her the real legend. I’ve had enough of this. Ye and I need to talk, Neala,” Bren said.

He grabbed her arm, fingers digging into her flesh, and pulled.

“Ouch!” Neala cried as she twisted free.

Though he stiffened and his power flared, Donal didn’t interfere. The pinched expression on Bren’s face failed to bring forth any sympathy from her. While she knew she could have handled this situation a little better, he couldn’t have been handling it much worse.

“Did ye ever want anythin’ more than to lie with me, Bren?” Neala demanded. The words had slipped out; she hadn’t meant to say them. But with him being so cruel, she had to know.

Red stained Bren’s cheeks and his eyes darted in Donal’s direction. That familiar pulling sensation tugged at her back and Neala knew Donal was stepping away, giving them a bit of privacy. Why couldn’t Bren be half as polite?

“Course I did, why would ye even ask?” Bren said, sounding hurt. Then his eyes brightened and he frowned. “Ciara told ye why she and I are no longer together, didn’t she?”

Neala lifted her chin, refusing to back down. “
Tá
.”

“It’s true.” Bren admitted. “But ye can’t judge me when ye don’t even know why. After me da died all I ever wanted was to belong to an Order and to pair bond with a woman.”

Cruel as he was being, Neala felt like a complete dolt. How could she not know that about him?

“But Bren, ye don’t pair bond by lyin’ with each other. And it can’t be forced, our power chooses, ye know this,” she said.

He flicked a hand as if in dismissal. “Course ye have to lie together, that’s how the bond solidifies. But no, ye had to go and bond with a sla—I mean a púca.” He made the word púca sound as foul as the word slave.

Power pulsing hotter with each breath, Neala forced herself to calm down. “
Níl
ye, don’t. All Donal and I did was kiss.”

“Ye can lie to yerself, but I know the truth, one of yer own kind isn’t good enough for ye even though ye’re a slut,” Bren spat.

Power crackling with warning, Donal stepped up beside Neala. “Enough. If all ye’re going to do is insult her, she doesn’t have to listen to ye,” he said.

Bren started to surge forward. “I’ve had it with ye—” his words halted as his eyes fell upon Donal’s chest.

He froze in mid-stride. “Where did ye get that?” he demanded, thrusting a finger toward Donal’s medallion.

Realization snapped into place in Neala’s mind. The medallion and Bren’s necklace were from the same craftsman. They had to be. But that made no sense…

“Me da gave it to me,” Donal said. Slowly his eyes slid from Bren’s face to the necklace setting atop his chest. His face fell into a look of shock. “Where did ye get yers?”

“Me da made it for me.”

The two men stood staring at each other, or rather, at their necklaces. Such intricate craftsmanship like that could only be from one craftsman.

“Yer last name is O’Donovan, right?” Donal asked in a hushed voice.

Stiffening, Bren’s eyes lifted to Donal’s face and studied it closely. His energy hummed and he went very pale. “That’s right.”

Donal swallowed hard before responding. “So is mine.”

They stared at each other and Neala stared at them. Her queasy stomach wanted to throw up what little she’d had to eat that day.

Denial filled Bren’s eyes and he shook his head. “Me da wasn’t a shapeshifter. I would have known.”

“Neither was mine. Me ma was. Did your da ever travel up north?” Donal asked.

Bren’s knees were shaking so badly that Neala almost went to him to help steady him. But she knew he wouldn’t want her to touch him, and frankly, she didn’t want to touch him after what he’d said. Thankfully, Liam dashed to Bren’s side and grabbed hold of him to support him.

“His da is from the north,” Liam answered for him.

The other members of the Order started to gather around.

Cian peered closely at both Bren and Donal. “Aside from dark skin, and Donal being a mountain of muscle, I can totally see the resemblance. Ye both have the same brow, cheekbones, even yer eyes are alike,” he said in a tone filled with wonder.

Freckles on her forehead pushed together as Kyla’s eyes opened wide. “Bloody hell, I see it too.”

Donal’s energy pulsed and fluxuated and he started to sway. Wrapping her arm tight around his, Neala did her best to help steady him. By the Tuatha she hoped he didn’t fall, he was far too solid and heavy to catch. Her power started to rise just in case. Her mind however tried to retreat, unable to deal with what it had just learned.

Then she remembered. Deirdre’s reaction to Dubh, the look of fear and betrayal that had flashed in her eyes the first time she’d seen him, the way she always avoided him. She had known, Bren’s own mother had known.

Hands on her hips, Irial shook her dark red hair. “Brothers eh? This certainly changes things.”

32

Neala winced as Donal tightened the strap that secured the plate of armor to her shield arm.

“Sorry, too tight?”

“A little,” she admitted.

He made a few adjustments and she breathed easier as the pinching eased. All around them, the members of her Order were donning their armor and preparing their weapons. The dark of night surrounding them seemed to hold all manner of threats. Neala jumped at every twig that broke and every energy signature she saw. After all the years of wanting to be a warrior, the time was finally upon her. It wasn’t the same without Lorcan at her side as she’d always imagined it. Even though she wasn’t quite sure about Donal yet, having him there was nearly as good.