The House of Gaian

by Anne Bishop

  “Where will you go now?” Selena asked.

  “Home,” Gwynith replied.

  “Are you needed there right now?”

  Gwynith gave her a wary look. “I hope I always have something to offer my Clan.”

  “I wasn’t questioning your value to your Clan.” Selena looked away. Sometimes pride could chafe. “I’d like you to travel with me for a while.”

  Gwynith’s eyes widened in surprise. “Travel with you? Me? Why?”

  “Because you understand the Fae, you understand how to travel in Tir Alainn—and because I’m comfortable with you.”

  A gleam came into Gwynith’s eyes. “If I go with you, would you teach me the moon dance?”

  Selena smiled. “I can try. Come on, then. Let’s get your saddlebags packed. I want to leave as soon as possible.” She heard a loud snort. “And I’d better explain to Mistrunner that he needs to be patient a bit longer.”

  “If you want to stay with him, I’ll run back to the Clan house and pack.”

  Snort. Stamp.

  “That’s probably wise,” Selena said dryly.

  Gwynith rushed toward the Clan house, then rushed back. “Huntress?”

  “Selena.”

  Gwynith smiled. “Selena. I’m really wiccanfae?”

  “Yes, you’re really wiccanfae.” Selena shrugged. “Perhaps in other parts of Sylvalan, the word no longer means the same thing as it does in the Mother’s Hills.”

  “And Dianna and Lucian are wiccanfae?”

  “Yes. She anchors to the branch of earth, and he obviously can draw power from the branch of fire. Having another form is what distinguishes the Fae from the rest of Sylvalan’s people, regardless of what other talents that person has. Being connected to a branch of the Great Mother is the heritage of the House of Gaian. Long ago, people who had another form and that connection to the Mother were called wiccanfae—the wise Fae.”

  “By the fields, full and fallow.” Gwynith shook her head. “Last summer, when the Bard was trying to find out anything he could about the wiccanfae, he guested with Lucian and Dianna’s Clan. I wonder what he’ll say when he finds out he was dining with the very thing he was searching for and didn’t know it.”

  Chapter 14

  waxing moon

  Ashk made herself as comfortable as possible on the stone bench that ran along the terrace wall. Tomorrow, or the day after, she would have to drop the glamour of appearing male so that she could spend a few quiet hours in the women’s communal room at the Clan house where they would guest.

  She was glad she’d made the decision to make her first appearance as male, however. The Clans had been startled, and uneasy, about the Hunter’s sudden reappearance—especially when the Hunter rode into their Clan territory with the Gatherer, the Bard, the Muse, the Sleep Sister, and fifty huntsmen from the western Clans who had come with her to be her personal guard and fighters. Despite their uneasiness, the midland Clans had been resistant to her command that the Fae go down to the human world and join forces with the witches and the humans to defend Sylvalan from the Inquisitors’ army. Resistant and surly, each Clan insisting that their Clan was safe and they were keeping a close watch on the witches as the Lightbringer had told them to do, so there was no danger for them—and no reason to soil themselves with further contact with witches, let alone humans.

  There wasn’t time to argue, so she and her companions traveled through the Clan territories with as much speed as possible. When necessary, they stopped to rest themselves and the horses for a few hours, or left the others to rest while Ashk and a few escorts went down the shining roads to deliver the letters Padrick had written to particular barons he thought would join them in the fight.

  Soon, though, she would stand in a Clan’s territory and issue one command that would be sent to all the Fae. They would either obey that command…or discover how much power the Hunter truly had over them.

  But there were other concerns tonight. A bard had ridden in a short while ago and had been terribly relieved to find Aiden guesting at this Clan. Perhaps now they would finally have some news about whether or not Dianna was still the Lady of the Moon. Something must be going on, because Aiden and the bard had been standing in the garden far too long, and the bard delivering the message seemed too agitated for the news to be a simple announcement.

  Aiden would bring the news to them when he was ready. Since there was nothing she could do except wait, she turned her thoughts to her biggest concern—to the woman standing a few feet away from her, watching Aiden with dark, troubled eyes.

  With every day they traveled, Morag became edgier, moodier, more unpredictable and volatile. That’s why Ashk had stopped arguing with the Clans about sending fighters down to the human world. The last “discussion” had become heated, and when an arrogant Fae Lord had insisted that witches were the Fae’s servants, Morag had turned on him and would have ripped out his soul if Ashk and Morphia hadn’t intervened.

  Morag understood death so well. That was why she revered life so much. For her to strike out with her gift…Mother’s mercy. She could ride through a Clan or a human village and leave nothing but corpses in her wake.

  “Morag?” Ashk asked quietly. She waited until Morag looked at her. “Why don’t you sit down and rest? I think Aiden will be a while yet.”

  Morag hesitated, then sat on the stone bench near Ashk, twisting around to continue watching Aiden.

  “What’s wrong, Morag?” Ashk said.

  “Nothing,” Morag said flatly.

  Ashk suppressed a spark of temper. “How can anyone help if you won’t confide in anyone?”

  “There’s nothing to confide.”

  Ashk let her breath out in a huff. “Then at least accept Morphia’s offer to help you get a decent night’s sleep.”

  “No.”

  She might have given up if she’d hadn’t heard a quiver of fear beneath the sharp denial. “I thought we were friends.”

  “And you’d do anything for a friend?”

  “Yes, I would.”

  Morag looked at her. Really looked at her. Then turned away again to watch Aiden. But after several moments’ silence, she said very softly, “I’ve had dreams. Terrible dreams.”

  “Will you tell me what they’re about?” Uneasy about what kind of dreams could have affected Morag so much, Ashk worked to keep her voice low and soothing.

  “Insatiable hunger,” Morag whispered, shuddering. Then, “Shadows and light. Isn’t that what all dreams are about in the end?”

  Shadows and light. Death and life. Why would those be terrible for the Gatherer of Souls?

  “I’ll let Morphia give me a dreamless night if you’ll make a promise to me,” Morag said abruptly.

  “What is the promise?”

  “If I can’t stop this…If I fail…Promise me, Hunter, that you will do what needs to be done.”

  Ashk stared at Morag.

  Hunter. Morag wasn’t asking for a promise from her friend Ashk. The Gatherer was asking the Hunter. Considering who they both were, Ashk understood quite well what might be asked of her.

  She held out her hand. “I will do what needs to be done. This I promise.”

  Morag hesitated, then took Ashk’s hand.

  “Come along, now.” Ashk stood up, tugged Morag’s hand until Morag stood beside her.

  “But…Aiden…”

  “He’ll tell you everything in the morning. Now you need to rest.” Ashk looked over at Morphia, who was standing with Sheridan and Lyrra at the other end of the terrace. When she nodded, Morphia hurried over to meet them as Ashk and Morag walked into the Clan house.

  Despite Morphia being the Lady of Dreams and Ashk’s continued assurances that she would do what needed to be done, it was an hour before Morag finally sank into a deep, peaceful sleep.

  I will do what needs to be done, Ashk thought as she and Morphia returned to the terrace. Shadows and light. Morag…what have I promised you?

  There wasn’t time to think
about that because Aiden was sitting on one of the benches with Lyrra. Sheridan stood nearby.

  When Lyrra saw them, she gestured impatiently. “Aiden’s been waiting for you.”

  “If you’d wanted the news sooner, you could have joined the others in the common room to hear the bard’s announcement,” Aiden said testily.

  Not good. The Bard and the Muse rarely snapped at each other. Ashk understood Lyrra’s impatience—they’d all been waiting for some word about what had happened among the Ladies of the Moon—but she wished Lyrra would pay more attention to the distress in Aiden’s eyes.

  “I’m here now,” Ashk said calmly, coming to stand before Aiden. “What is the news, Bard?”

  “Where’s Morag?” Aiden asked, looking from her to Morphia.

  “Sleeping. You can tell her the news in the morning.”

  Aiden nodded. He took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. “Dianna lost the challenge. We have a new Lady of the Moon. A new Huntress.”

  Ashk watched Aiden carefully. Had she imagined his slight emphasis on the word Huntress? No. She hadn’t imagined anything. Which meant he considered that part of her title to be the more critical change in power.

  “Who is she?” Lyrra said. “What Clan is she from?”

  Aiden didn’t look at his wife. He kept his blue eyes fixed on Ashk. “Her name is Selena. She isn’t from a Clan.”

  Since Lyrra looked ready to debate the reliability of the information, Ashk said firmly, “Let him speak, Muse.”

  Lyrra glared at her but kept silent.

  “Her name is Selena,” Aiden said again. “She is Fae, but she is first, and always, a Daughter of the House of Gaian.” He hesitated. “She comes from the Mother’s Hills.”

  Ashk felt the muscles in her legs go suddenly limp, and she wondered if she was going to sink to the terrace floor. She was no stranger to the Mother’s Daughters, but even for her, thinking of the Mother’s Hills produced a shiver up her spine.

  A reflex, a reaction that had no basis in fact. There was no reason to think the witches who lived in the Mother’s Hills were different from the witches who lived in the Old Places throughout Sylvalan. They all had the same roots. Their gifts all came from the four branches of the Great Mother. They all lived by the same creed.

  Didn’t they?

  That was the crux of it, wasn’t it? No one really knew much about the witches who ruled the Mother’s Hills. But Padrick had met a few of them when he’d traveled through the hills after seeing Baron Liam of Willowsbrook safely home. And Aiden and Lyrra had gone through the hills to head west in search of the Hunter. None of the travelers had come to harm, and yet…

  She had to be strong. She had to stand and be strong. Now more than ever.

  “The new Huntress is a witch?” Lyrra asked, her voice full of disbelief. “How?”

  “She’s a Fae Lady of the Moon as well as a witch,” Aiden said sharply. “The gift accepted her.” He laid a hand on Lyrra’s arm. “I know you’re annoyed with me for not telling you before the others. Most likely, I would have felt the same way. But, please, Lyrra. Please listen.”

  Lyrra looked down at his hand. “You’re shaking. Why are you shaking?” She studied his face closely, the Muse’s annoyance with the Bard forgotten.

  “The new Huntress wants to see the Bard—and I’m afraid.”

  Ashk felt her heart leap against her chest. “What haven’t you told us yet, Aiden?” She knelt in front of him, took his other hand. “You went through the Mother’s Hills. You met some of the witches there.”

  Aiden closed his eyes. His fingers curled tightly around Ashk’s hand. “Not like her.”

  They all waited, no longer impatient for news.

  Finally, Ashk asked softly, “What happened to Dianna?”

  Aiden made a sound that might have been a bitter laugh. “Oh. Well. Dianna. She refused to accept a half-breed witch as her successor, despite it being clear that Selena was so much more powerful than Dianna could ever dream of being. Everything was fine until Dianna challenged Selena after Selena ascended and became the Lady of the Moon. It…provoked…the new Huntress into showing the Fae who now rules them.” He opened his eyes and looked at Ashk. “She summoned a storm. She summoned fire. And when her horse tried to get through the wall of fire to reach her, she created a bridge out of moonlight for him.”

  “Mother’s mercy,” Ashk said, sinking back on her heels. “Were the other Ladies of the Moon harmed?” Gwynith. Why hadn’t she heard from Gwynith?

  “I don’t think so. The bards who were witnesses at the clearing sent out the news as fast as they could, and I don’t think they conveyed everything they knew.”

  “If she wants to see you, where are you supposed to meet her?” Lyrra asked worriedly.

  “I don’t know. I know where the Ladies had gathered, but I don’t know if the Huntress remained with the Clan connected to that Old Place.”

  “Can it wait a few more days?” Ashk asked. “I still have to ride to the southern part of the Mother’s Hills to give Padrick’s letters to the barons who live near there. I was going to go on to Willowsbrook from there, but if it makes you easier, I’ll go with you to meet the new Huntress.” Ashk forced herself to smile. “And I admit to being curious about her other form.”

  “Shadow hound,” Aiden whispered. “She’s a shadow hound.”

  Ashk’s smile faded. Being one herself, she knew better than the rest of them how dangerous that form could be. “Then let’s hope the Lightbringer and the Huntress don’t cross paths anytime soon. We can’t afford to have Lucian do something that would turn the Huntress against the Fae.” She gently pulled her hand out of Aiden’s and stood up. “We should retire now. I want to get an early start in the morning. I’d like to reach Willowsbrook before the full moon, which means we have a lot of traveling to do. Bard, I’ll have one of my men inform the bards of your direction. It will make it easier to find you if there are other messages.”

  Aiden nodded, getting to his feet slowly.

  Ashk led them into the Clan house and saw them all to their rooms before slipping into Morag’s room to check on her. Satisfied that Morag would get a good night’s rest, she went to her own room and stared out the window for a long time.

  A Daughter of the House of Gaian as the Lady of the Moon. A shadow hound as the Huntress.

  Great Mother, let me hear from Gwynith soon. She’ll tell me more of what I need to know than all the bards put together. Because Selena will either be a very good friend for the battles ahead…or a very dangerous enemy.

  Chapter 15

  waxing moon

  Jenny stood at the bow of the small ship and watched Selkie Island grow larger. Perhaps she was being foolish to come here. Cordell had told her the Lord of the Selkies and his people on the island were keeping a sharp eye on any ships sailing north to the western coast of Sylvalan. But as each day passed without word from Mihail, she became more fearful. Was he waiting at sea somewhere, hoping other ships that belonged to the family made it to open water? Had he tried to go back to Durham for any family members who were unable to find a way out of the city?

  What about the ones who were going overland to Willows-brook? Had they arrived safely? Were they still safe?

  “Not as fine a harbor as we’ve got at Sealand,” the ship’s captain said as he came to stand beside her. “But it suits them here.”

  She heard pride, and a touch of apprehension, in his voice. Being a selkie himself, he didn’t want to speak ill of the man who ruled the Fae with his particular gift, but he’d made enough comments on the journey for her to understand he was hoping Lord Murtagh’s virility wouldn’t sway her into remaining on Selkie Island.

  At another time, she might have been amused by the verbal tug-of-war the captain was engaged in—approving of the way Murtagh ruled the selkies and dealt with the human gentry in one breath and in the next giving warning hints that many a young lady had been lured into a lover’s arms by moonlight and the sea,
and while a lover could stir the blood, his appeal could fade with the turning of the moon while love rooted in family was forever.

  Since she doubted anything she said would reassure the man, she just smiled and turned her attention to the sea.

  As they got closer to the island, she saw six small fishing boats—and she saw a man from each boat dive into the water. When she heard the captain order the mainsail lowered, she stared at him in surprise.

  He shrugged. “Best to go easy in these waters. Take a look.” He pointed down.

  Jenny caught the flash of a sleek brown head before it disappeared under the water again.

  Two selkies surfaced near the bow of the ship. Four others surfaced a little farther out.

  “Merry meet!” the captain called. “I’m bringing Lady Jennyfer to the island to meet with Lord Murtagh!”

  The selkies bobbed their heads, then raced away. Jenny watched two of them head for the harbor while the other four swam back to the fishing boats.

  “You can bet a bag of gold coins that there’s an archer in each of those boats,” the captain said quietly. “Now that they know why we’re coming to the island, they won’t fire on us.”

  “I thought they were out fishing.” Jenny narrowed her eyes a little to study the boats more carefully.

  “Oh, they are. But the Fae have always been protective of these waters, and these days…well.” He pointed at the sky. “There’s plenty of them who aren’t looking for fish.”

  “Sea hawks?”

  The captain didn’t answer, and Jenny didn’t wonder why. This wasn’t a harbor for the inexperienced or unwary. But an enemy trying to land wouldn’t know which channels through the sentinel stones were deep enough to give safe passage into the harbor itself and which had unseen rocks that would rip the bottom out of a ship.

  No, an enemy wouldn’t know, but neither would a merchant who was being pursued and needed a safe harbor.