To Ride A Púca (39 page)

White flashed as Donal pulled his bottom lip between his teeth and bit down. He brushed hair back from Neala’s shoulders and cupped her face in his hands. “
Tá
. If we have to,” he said.

A resigned sob escaped her as Donal pulled her in against his chest. While the strength of his arms and power wrapping around her was comforting, it failed to make her feel safe. After today she wasn’t sure if she’d ever feel safe again. All too soon, he drew away and gave her a serious look. Whatever he had to say, she knew she wasn’t going to like it.

“I have to go and get Bren. Whether I like it or not, I have to make sure he’s safe,” he said. His eyes squeezed tightly shut and he had to take a deep breath before continuing. “But ye need to get yer wagon, load up yer parents, and head for Limerick right now.”

Neala shook her head so violently she heard her neck pop. “
Níl
! I won’t leave ye. Bren can take care of himself,” she said, hating herself for her words. She wanted Bren and his ma safe, he was a part of her Order and she cared about him, no matter the way he had treated her or the cruel things he had said. But Donal was a part of her Order now too, and something more.

“I don’t want to leave ye either, believe me, but it isn’t safe for all of ye to come with me, and yer parents need ye to protect them,” he said.

He nodded toward Ciara. “I’ll accompany Ciara to her home first, she may need help gatherin’ her parents up.”

“Then we’ll wait here for ye.”

Ever so gently, he took her face in his hands and fixed his magnetic green eyes upon her. “I can only leave if I know ye’re on ye’re way to safety. I wouldn’t do this Neala, but he’s me brother. And more than that, I bonded with yer Order during the battle. I have to make sure both he and Ciara get to Limerick safely.”

She tried to shake her head but he held it still.

“Please do this for me. I trust ye can keep yerself and yer family safe, please trust me to do the same,” he said.

Steel rasped against leather, drawing Neala’s attention to Tyr who was sheathing his sword. “My father’s men are swarming these hills. Now that they know there are druids left alive they won’t stop until you’re all dead. It isn’t safe,” Tyr said.

Donal cast him a grateful look. It was all Neala could do to swallow her frustration. Of all the things for them to agree on, they chose this?

“And there are more comin’. Please Neala, do this for me, do it for yer family. I will meet up with ye in Limerick if not before, I promise,” Donal said.

Both his words and the conviction in his eyes convinced her she had no choice. A deep breath slid from her and her shoulders slumped. She couldn’t keep him from his brother, she wouldn’t.

“All right. We’ll meet in Limerick. But I won’t get on a ship without ye,” Neala said, her voice shaking with the power of her conviction.

“Fair enough.”

“Ye need to get to yer brother,” Neala said.

Donal gave her a slight nod before embracing her so tightly that it squeezed the breath right out of her. It wasn’t close enough. She wanted to hold him tighter, so tight that he could never get away. But she knew she couldn’t, for many reasons. If anything happened to Bren and Dierdre then she would never forgive herself for keeping Donal as long as she had. That thought was enough to make her pull back. He bent to rest his forehead against hers.

“I love ye. Ye don’t have to say anthin’ back,” he said in a voice that sounded deeper and thicker than usual.

The words sent both a thrill and regret through Neala. She had dreamt of a young man telling her that, but not now, not like this. And until that moment, she hadn’t realized Donal was the one she wanted to hear it from. It struck her with the force of a blacksmith’s hammer that she felt the same way. Impossible as it was, she couldn’t deny it.  

“I love ye too,” she said. There was so much more she wanted to say but that pretty much summed it up.

Joy filled his eyes for the briefest moment, then he closed them and bent to kiss her. Their power wrapped tight around one another, taking Neala’s breath away. The world narrowed to just the two of them. The kiss was intense and eager, and way too quick. The joy was gone from his gaze when he pulled back. He reached around behind his neck and untied the cord that held on his knotwork necklace. With gentle reverence, he placed it upon Neala and tied the cord.

“Keep this safe for me until I see ye again,” he said.

Unable to speak, Neala just nodded. Squeezing his eyes shut, he let go and stepped away from her. The pain and tenderness contorting his features was washed away by a fierce determination. He turned to Tyr.

The Dane had his chin thrust into the air and was trying to look interested in something outside. The hard line of his jaw and the slant of his eyes betrayed his jealousy.

“Take care of her for me will ye?” Donal asked. It sounded like more of a challenge than a question. Tyr straightened and looked at Donal. Amazingly, the two stood eye to eye.

“Of course. I’ll make sure she reaches Limerick safely,” he said.

The longing look Donal gave Neala as he backed away brought tears to her eyes. Her hand went to his necklace, drawing strength from the warm metal. The fullness of his lips, his overly long brown hair, and his beautiful green eyes surrounded by lush lashes, all burned into her mind. A crippling fear that she may be looking upon him for the last time seized her.

He swept his sword off the floor and handed it to Ciara whose arms sagged beneath its weight. It was nearly as tall as she was; a sword better fit for a Scotsman. But then Donal wasn’t the average Irishman. Despite that, he was as much a part of Ireland as Neala was, she understood that now.

With a few deft pulls, Donal’s sword belt fell to the ground. He moved down the aisle, around the corner, working on the leather ties that secured his armor as he went. Neala’s eyes followed him, her heart speeding a bit as his gaze met hers.

“I can move faster as a horse. You may want to turn away if you don’t want to see this,” he said.

Lifting her chin, she held his gaze. “Magic doesn’t frighten me.”

One corner of his mouth started to rise in a near-smile. “I didn’t imagine it would. I’m about to get naked though and I wasn’t sure ye were ready to see that.”

A gasp sounded from Ciara as she picked up Donal’s sword belt. “All right then, I’m just going to get the cart prepared,” she said as she backed quickly away.

Neala swallowed hard as she watched her friend retreat into the barn. Turning her gaze back to Donal took a monumental effort of will. Her mind flashed back to that day on the cliff.

“Wait, if ye must get naked when ye shift, then how did ye have clothes on the day ye saved Ciara and me?” she asked.

One dark eyebrow lifted and Donal inclined his head. “Me kind can also cast mild illusions. Comes in handy when one suddenly needs to appear to be clothed.”

A shiver traveled through Neala. He had been naked. Naked! She’d been pressed up against him at one point. Her cheeks burned so powerfully with the memory that she feared she may catch fire.

“Oh,” was all she could manage in a breathy voice.

Armor fell to the floor, followed by his jerkin and boots. The hard planes of his dark-skinned bare chest held Neala enthralled. As his hands started to work on the strings of his breeches she quickly raised her eyes to his. There was a twinkle in their green depths.

“Truly Neala, ye don’t need to watch,” he said.

She straightened, eyes locked on his. “I want to.” Her face flushed hotter as she realized that was exactly the wrong thing to say. Deep down she knew she needed to see this, to make sure she could handle what he was. As long as she didn’t look down, she figured she could handle it.

With a nod, he bent and dropped his breeches. To avoid following him with her gaze, she closed her eyes until she was sure he had stood back up. A flash of his bright smile amidst the dark skin of his handsome face was the last she saw before he started to change. It was fast and fluid, a shimmer like water flowing over rocks. A heartbeat later the bulk of a massive black stallion took up the space where he’d been.

The energy that was Donal’s power remained, though it was muted behind his animal form. Still, a part of it pulled at Neala. She moved forward and placed her hand upon the flat of his equine nose. It was strange, seeing Dubh and knowing he was really Donal. But he was still her best friend, and she guessed in a way that meant Donal was.

Eyes closing, he pressed his head against her hand. A desperate need to stop him from leaving gripped her. She opened her mouth to beg him to stay beside her, but the words stuck in her throat. He pulled away from her hand, spun on his hind legs, and trotted from the barn.

Watching him leave hurt more than any wound she had suffered that day.

35

With Tyr’s help it took no time at all to hitch up the geldings and get her parents loaded into the cart. Salvaging their meager belongings that were stored in the barn was taking a bit longer though.

“Are we going to Tir na nóg?” Ardal asked.

Part of Neala hated that he would ask her that. Sure, he was wounded but he was her da, he was supposed to take care of her. Of all the times she had wanted him to treat her like a grownup, this was not one of them. But Neala pushed aside such childhood notions and explained what they were going to do. Ardal’s eyes rolled skyward and she realized he was watching the tendrils of thick, black smoke that wrestled their way through the sky.

His gaze dragged over to where Cecily lay sleeping beside him, exhausted from healing. “How will we pay for passage on a ship?” he asked. “Our ancestors’ treasure was hidden in the house. We haven’t the coin for fare without it.”

Cold fingers of dread started to close around Neala, but a twisted hope shoved them away. Maybe this meant they wouldn’t have to leave. Maybe it was for the best. There was a chance the Danes wouldn’t follow them too far. If the forces retreated then they could come home and rebuild. It was possible.

“Ye’ll find a way,” Tyr said as he heaved a bag of grain into the cart next to Ardal.

“No. We have to get the treasure,” Ardal argued.

He struggled to sit up, but only ended up collapsing back into the hay. Beads of sweat sprung up on his brow and his breathing became labored. The desperation that filled his eyes broke Neala’s heart. It was more than just their ancestors’ treasure; it was the legacy of their family, of their druid line.

The crackle and snap of the inferno that had swallowed her home echoed in the background. Flames and smoke were all she could see. When it stopped burning—which from the looks of it would be a long time—there would be nothing left.

“We can’t da,” she murmured.

The smoke stung her eyes and made her vision blur. She turned away and wiped at her face. Something fluttered before her and she swiped at it, assuming it was falling ash. But the shape let out a little cry and dodged her hand. Tiny purple wings beat so fast she could hardly make them out, but the blond figure they held aloft was clear and still as could be. It was such a relief to see the fairy alive that Neala cried out. Next to her Tyr took a quick step away and muttered something in his strange language. Shaking his head, he turned his attention back to the cart.

“I’m so glad ye survived the battle Flora,” Neala told the fairy.

Flora gave her a sad smile and darted in to touch Neala’s arm. The little creature looked bruised and weary and her armor was dinged and dented. Clearly she had fought hard and done her part to try and hold off the invaders. All their efforts had been for nothing though. Their people had still died and the invaders were still coming. A sharp pain in her arm snapped Neala’s attention back to Flora. She had pulled the tiny hairs on Neala’s arm and was now darting about in an agitated state. She fluttered away a little and looked back expectantly at Neala.

“I can’t. We have to leave,” Neala told her.

Floating a little farther away, Flora pointed. Neala glanced at Tyr’s retreating back. He would be busy for a few more moments at least loading their possessions into the cart. The fairy appeared right in front of her again, this time tugging on the dirty locks of Neala’s hair.

“All right, all right. But we have to be quick,” Neala said.

Flora darted away, a purple streak against the smoky landscape. A shuddering sigh rattled through Neala as she followed her friend for the last time. The fairy stopped at a pine tree close to the barn and alighted upon a root that stuck up near the base of the trunk. Her face scrunched up in concentration as she reached deep into the grooves of the bark.

Beside her a small portion of the trunk slid aside, revealing an opening from which light spilled. Flora flew into the opening and came back out struggling beneath the burden of a pearl necklace too big for her tiny hands to easily hold. Neala recognized the necklace, it was her ma’s. Flora draped it over Neala’s hand and darted back into the opening. This time she came back out struggling with a broach big enough to serve as a shield for her kind. She laid it at Neala’s feet and went back for more.

Neala fell to her knees on the soft blanket of pine needles and scooped the broach up. It had belonged to her grandma. This was their family treasure! Flora emerged with a massive emerald ring. Neala let out a surprised laugh and reached into the tree trunk. The handful of stuff she grabbed was too big to pull out the small opening. She was forced to drop a bit. After only a few handfuls she had a pile of jewels, coins, and jewelry at the base of the tree.

The cubbyhole started to empty, forcing Neala to reach deeper inside. Something sharp poked her finger and she yanked her hand back.

“Ouch!”

A drop of blood was beading up on the side of her finger. She stuck it in her mouth and glared at the opening in the trunk. A creature resembling a tiny human shot out. It waved a spear at Neala as it spoke rapidly in a strange language, its long tail flicking in an agitated arc behind it with each word. Another of the creatures came out to join it, then a third.