Reaching Iseult, Anna took one set of reins, belonging to a black and white dappled mare. Eywen took the other set of reins from Iseult with a nod, and climbed on a horse so deep brown it was almost black, except when the sun hit it, then there were tones of red.
Anna noticed Eywen’s supplies already strapped to his mount. Suddenly she realized that perhaps he hadn’t shifted his plans for her. Perhaps he’d planned on leaving that very day regardless, and he hadn’t bothered to tell her.
Her mood darkening further, she slung her supplies over her horse’s saddle, securing them in place with leather cords. She mounted without another word, then rode toward the gates, not bothering to look back to see if Eywen followed.
Of course, his horse reached her side as one of the Trow came to life to push the heavy gate open for them. They rode through, then the gate shut behind them.
Anna forced herself not to squirm at the sound of the gate thudding into place, though she jumped when a swarm of Pixies flew overhead. One of the tiny shapes swooped down toward them, then hovered in front of Anna’s face.
The little woman straightened her gauzy red dress, impervious to the cold, then put her hands on her hips with her wings beating as fast as a hummingbird’s. “Follow whichever path you please,” the Pixie said. “We’ll scout in all directions, and loop back from time to time to report in.”
Anna nodded. “Thank you.”
With a nod in reply, the Pixie flew away. Anna urged her horse forward, refusing to acknowledge Eywen’s presence at her side. She knew she was acting like a petty teenager, but she could not seem to help herself.
He rode beside her with a pleasant expression on his face, not seeming to notice either way.
The silence stretched on as they rode, broken only by the occasional visits from the Pixies. Though she saw no signs of Kai’s passing, the direction they took was the most direct path toward the Sand Road.
The further they got from the fortress, the more Anna relaxed. She hadn’t realized just how much the presence of the Cavari had weighed on her. For the first time in a long while, she didn’t feel like a knife was going to pierce her back at any moment.
She glanced at Eywen. “How far do you intend to ride with me?”
He turned his head toward her, watching her curiously. “How far would you like me to ride with you?”
“I didn’t ask you to ride with me at all,” she growled, turning forward. “You may leave me any time you please. I dare say you’d do so regardless.”
She felt his heavy gaze as he continued watching her, letting his horse amble along at its own pace. “Would you care to explain what that means?”
She scowled, flicking her eyes to him, then back to the path. “It means you were going to leave today without telling me anyway, so I don’t know why you’d ask what I would like you to do.” She glanced at him again to see him smiling. “Do I amuse you?” she hissed.
He shook his head. “I had only spoken with Finn about leaving less than an hour ago, just after I learned of your departure. I had been planning on discussing it with her, but not leaving for a while yet. When I heard you would depart, without telling me, I might add, I rushed my plans forward, throwing together whatever supplies I could find with such short notice.”
Her jaw dropped. She stared at him a moment, trying to tell if he was just putting her on. “I—” she began, not sure what to say. She turned her gaze down to her hands on her reins. “I owed you no explanation,” she said sourly. “I can come and go as I please.”
“As can I,” he said simply.
There was no malice in his tone, and she turned to see him smiling to himself, not angry in the slightest. She quickly averted her gaze once more.
Kai. Kai was the focus. Eywen would leave her soon, then it would be up to her to save her best friend . . . though she could at least admit, for now, that she no longer minded the company.
Kai rested on the ground within the shelter of the small cave. The sunlight stung his eyes more and more each day, and he feared it would only continue to get worse. He was turning into one of the creatures he so detested, even though it shouldn’t be possible. The Dearg Due were female, an ancient race that only used humans or other Faie for breeding purposes. Their children were always female. He wondered if he could find one to ask her what was happening, then quickly dismissed the idea. They’d already tried to kill him once.
He shifted his head, resting on his pack. Before he’d begun to change so drastically, he’d learned all he could of the Dearg Due from Eywen and the other Aos Sí. They were dark creatures, pure evil, if such a thing existed. He did not relish the thought of becoming one of them, as impossible as it was supposed to be.
If he had allowed it, could Finn have saved him? Would he have been cured?
He turned on his side. It didn’t matter. He would never let her do it. If she weakened herself, and died because of it . . .
It was a fate worse than death for him. He could not risk it. He would run as far away as he could, then he’d keep running some more. Once he was far enough away that Finn couldn’t find him, he’d live out his final days alone. He’d lock himself away where he wouldn’t be able to hurt anyone.
He might not be the most strong of will, but he at least had the strength for that.
Keiren lounged on the cushy chair in her chambers. She’d been spending more and more time at the estate in Garenoch, far more than she’d originally intended.
Ealasaid was too smart and ambitious, and leaving her for long, especially with Maarav around, didn’t seem wise. While most in the estate had come to trust her, Maarav clearly did not. It was an issue.
And so, she remained in Garenoch, ready to steer Ealasaid in the correct direction whenever the opportunity presented itself. Of course, the correct direction had changed many times, especially with the Travelers’ visit the previous night. The Solas Na Réaltaí Clan, or Starlight Clan’s gift to Ealasaid was a complete surprise to Keiren. While she possessed the sight, the Ceàrdaman often managed to thwart her abilities.
After learning of their visit and what they’d brought, Keiren had spent the entire morning in her room waiting for Ealasaid to show it to her. Yet, she never came. Perhaps she had not earned as much of the girl’s trust as she’d originally thought. She’d have to remedy that if she ever hoped to manipulate Finn into destroying the barrier to the in-between.
A knock sounded at her door. She smiled, then flipped her long red hair over her shoulder as she stood. The girl had come to show her the wand at last.
Her face fell as she opened the door, revealing a young boy. His trembling hands held a rolled up piece of parchment.
She observed him for a moment, noting his black hair, freckled face, and the inordinate amount of fear in his eyes. She’d seen the boy running around town before, and he seemed a normal child, brave because he was yet to be knocked down by life.
“What are you doing here, boy?” she snapped. “Speak.” How had he gotten past the guards at the gate, and the second set of guards outside the building in which she dwelled?
With one trembling hand, he extended the rolled up parchment.
Keiren took the paper, and the boy turned on his heel and ran.
Irritated, she slammed her door shut and returned to her soft chair, unfurling the parchment as she walked.
She slumped into her seat, then began to read the note.
As she read, her eyes widened, then a smile slowly curved across her lips. She’d thought Òengus was dead, likely killed in the battle with the Aos Sí.
Not only was he not dead, he was still in the employ of Oighear the White, and he wanted to arrange a meeting.
She could only guess at what such a meeting would entail, but there was one thing she knew for sure.
Things were finally about to get interesting.
Chapter Four
“Are you sure you don’t want an escort?” Ealasaid asked, peering up at the red-haired sorceress from the bench wher
e she sat eating her breakfast.
Keiren had found her outside the dining hall, with a plate of food balanced on her lap, enjoying a rare moment of peace.
Keiren smirked. “I can take care of myself.” She slithered her palms down the sides of her heavy black traveling cloak. “I merely wanted to inform you of my journey. I have some personal business to tend, nothing that concerns you.”
Ealasaid pursed her lips, glancing down at her plate of half-eaten eggs and sausage. While Keiren wasn’t exactly a friend, she still worried about her safety, and not just because she was a powerful ally.
“I’ll return within a week’s time,” Keiren explained, “so don’t let Maarav talk you into anything foolish while I’m alway, like marrying him.”
Ealasaid blinked up at her. “How did you—” she began to ask, then cut herself off. Of course Keiren knew. She knew everything. She probably even knew about the jewel-encrusted wand in the velvet box, hidden beneath her mattress.
Keiren smiled at her. “Just promise me you won’t make any rash decisions, one friend to another.”
Ealasaid forced a smile and nodded, wondering if Keiren had read her thoughts about them not being friends. They’d fought together in battle, and were allies, but Ealasaid had no illusions as to why Keiren cared about her. Friendship had nothing to do with it.
“I won’t,” she assured, forcing her thoughts away in case Keiren really could read her mind.
Seemingly satisfied, Keiren turned and slinked away, her heavy black cloak billowing behind her.
Ealasaid let out a long breath. She wasn’t sure whether to be worried, relieved, or suspicious. Worried that Keiren might be harmed, relieved that she’d be able to relax, if only slightly, with her gone, or suspicious about where she was going.
As she sat staring at her cooling eggs and sausage, suspicion won out. She almost debated having someone follow the sorceress, but whomever she chose would inevitably be found out.
“What was that about?” a voice asked from her left, near the corner of the building.
She turned to see Slàine, dressed in her fitted black clothes with her gray hair pulled back in a tight bun. She was in remarkable form for a woman her age, and could best Ealasaid in a battle with her hands shackled behind her back.
Seeing no reason to lie, she replied, “She’s going on a journey. She’ll return in a week’s time.”
Slàine walked around Ealasaid’s bench and sat down beside her, their elbows nearly touching.
She fought the urge to scoot away.
“You should have sent someone to follow her,” Slàine said casually. “She cannot be trusted.”
“Are you volunteering?” she asked, then bit her tongue.
Slàine laughed. “Hardly. Someone has to stay here and make sure you don’t impale yourself on your sword.”
Ealasaid frowned, not sure if Slàine was joking.
Slàine’s smile faded. “You don’t like me, do you?”
She blinked at her, stunned at her bluntness. Where was Maarav with his abrupt appearances when she really needed him? She turned her gaze to the surrounding greenery, unsure of what to say.
Finally, she admitted, “It’s not that I dislike you, I just find you rather terrifying is all.”
She turned to see Slàine’s eyebrows raise so high they nearly touched her hairline, then she laughed. “Oh, you may be a queen, but you are so very young. Let us take a walk.”
Ealasaid gestured to her breakfast plate, hoping to use it as an excuse.
“Leave it,” Slàine ordered. “One of the servants will clean it up.”
With a heavy sigh, Ealasaid set her plate aside and stood, then followed at Slàine’s side as she headed toward the back end of the estate.
“It’s come to my attention,” Slàine began, “that you and Maarav intend to marry.”
Ealasaid fought her groan. Did everyone know? “Is that a problem?”
Slàine shrugged. “No, except that those of mine and Maarav’s order take an oath not to marry outside of said order. It can complicate contracts, and muddy one’s priorities.”
Ealasaid stopped walking. They’d reached the edge of the gardens, and were completely alone as far as she could see. “Maarav never mentioned that.”
Slàine shrugged again. “He took the oath when he was but a child. He likely doesn’t remember.”
She narrowed her gaze. “What exactly are you attempting to say?”
“I said what I’m trying to say,” Slàine replied. “Maarav cannot marry anyone outside of our order.”
Ealasaid couldn’t seem to get enough air into her lungs. Her palms began to sweat. How could he have forgotten such an oath?
“There must be a way,” she breathed.
Slàine smiled, and Ealasaid knew she would not like whatever was coming next. “Well, you could take the same oath and join our order. If you were one of us, there would be no issue.”
She watched Slàine’s expression, searching for any hint that she was serious. When Slàine did not openly laugh in her face, Ealasaid shook her head. “I’m not an assassin, and I will not become one. I would never harm someone who did not attack me first.”
Slàine snorted. “You likely wouldn’t harm someone even then. I do not mean for you to become a killer. Maarav would never speak to me again if I tried. I simply mean for you to swear an oath of loyalty. Promise not to betray us, and we will remain equally loyal. It is strictly forbidden to take contracts on any members of the order. It would be a guarantee that none of our associates will ever take a contract on your life.”
Ealasaid wetted her dry lips. A promise that none of the assassins would ever attempt to harm her, even Slàine? It seemed too good to be true. “Why would you offer this?” she breathed. “What if you disagree with my tactics in the future?”
Slàine’s expression was suddenly serious. “I would not be swearing to serve you indefinitely. I would only be making an oath to treat you as I would anyone else in the order, and in exchange, you’ll never send a hoard of mages after me. Truly, this deal is of much greater benefit to me than it is to you.”
Now it made sense. Slàine finally viewed her as a worthwhile adversary, and so, wanted to ensure the safety of her order in the future. Ealasaid was fine with that. She would never harm the people Maarav had grown up with regardless. She’d sacrifice nothing and gain great peace of mind.
Having thought it over, she held out her hand. “I would like to speak with Maarav first, but I believe we have a deal.”
Slàine took her hand, holding it tight. “Speak with him soon. I’d like you to swear your oath tomorrow night.”
“Tomorrow?” Ealasaid questioned, her hand still trapped in Slàine’s. “Why so soon?”
“Why not?” Slàine asked coyly.
Before Ealasaid could respond, Slàine gave her hand a shake, released it, then turned and strode away.
Ealasaid blinked after her, wondering if she’d just been tricked. Did Slàine know something she did not? It was the only explanation she could think of for needing to take the oath so soon.
She glanced around the expansive gardens, wondering where she might find Maarav. Perhaps he could make sense of it all.
That was, after she finished yelling at him for not remembering the oath he’d sworn.
Maarav watched from the cover of an alleyway near the front gates while Keiren departed. He’d seen her speaking with Ealasaid, and had noted the sorceress’ traveling cloak. If he did not think she’d spot him sooner or later, he would have followed her out the gates to see where she was going. As it was, he was left with many speculations.
He raked a hand through his hair. They knew little of Keiren’s life outside of Garenoch, except that she was suspiciously concerned with Finn. She’d even sent Bedelia to befriend and trick her.
More and more he wished he could speak with his brother, or even Finn. They were the missing pieces of an ever-complicating puzzle, and now he didn’t even know what they pl
anned. While he hated the idea of leaving Ealasaid, it might behoove him to make the journey to find them.
As the gates closed behind Keiren, he turned away from the wall he’d been leaning against, then began his walk back toward the estate. He’d learn from Ealasaid Keiren’s excuse for leaving, and if she’d be gone long enough, he’d broach the subject of finding his brother.
He walked openly down the bustling main street now that Keiren could not see him. The market was active, far busier than it had likely ever been with all the newcomers to both shop and sell their wares. The burgeoning war had not grown bad enough to harm food supplies, but he knew it was only a matter of time. While the townsfolk out buying bread, withered vegetables, and eggs were aware of the possible dangers, they had no way of knowing just how bad things would become . . . except the few apprised of the prophecy.
He continued onward, occasionally returning a wave from those he recognized. It was an odd feeling, being on friendly terms with common folk. While many had known him at his inn in Migris, most would not attempt to befriend him. The only reason they did so now was because of Ealasaid. Anyone who met her loved her, except Lady Síoda, and perhaps Slàine. He might not have been loved, but he was at least liked simply by association with her.
He reached the wall surrounding the estate, his mood darkening. He wouldn’t mind moving to a new place where no one knew him, and he could slink about unnoticed, but the same thing would only happen again. He would have to accept that this was the way his life would forever be once he married the woman he loved.
Love, he thought, gesturing up to the guards atop the gate. Such an odd thing, and something he never thought to experience, especially without a soul, or whatever it was that Finn had taken from his people over a century prior. Of course, it might all be for naught, since it seemed as though Ealasaid no longer wanted to marry him. He was a fool for even asking.
The heavy gate to the courtyard opened. He strolled in through the gate, seeing Ealasaid not far off, red-faced and huffing.
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