For several heartbeats, she fought against the turmoil raging in her heart before a thought occurred to her. She was the central piece on this game board. Everything rested on her and her final decision. How had she become the center of all this? The pivot from which the pendulum swung? And then, the answer came to her. There was a way to avoid her unknown fate with Uscias and Baird and keep Rori and Brenn from getting hurt. If she left Ardun, simply disappeared into the woods and returned from where she had come, then there would no longer be a reason for the Druid to use Brenn and Rori as leverage against her. If the one thing he wanted was no longer in the picture, why harm those she’d left behind? He had said it himself, killing Brenn and Rori would cause too much of a headache, and he hoped to avoid it.
Leaving Ardun now, after finally facing her fears and deciding to trust Brennon, would be like tearing open a nearly-healed wound. It would break her heart, leaving this man and Rori behind, but it would be even worse to see them hurt or killed by Uscias. And becoming the Druid’s slave would kill her just the same. The only way to save herself, and those she loved, was to run away.
Look at you, she mused, not lost on the irony, running away. Again. What made you think you could ever stay and make a stand?
Batting the annoying voice away, Seren steeled herself against the impending sorrow. She turned and marched over to the table set before the bookshelf and tore a page from one of the many blank journals she’d been using to practice her letters. She was still a novice when it came to writing, but she had enough knowledge to scribble out a quick note. Before she could change her mind, she set the note down and dashed upstairs. Rori was sound asleep, something she was very grateful for. She wanted so desperately to go into his room and caress his face and brush her fingers through his hair one last time, but she knew doing so would make it even harder on herself.
Instead, she headed to her room and picked up the beautiful wood carving of the doe, then went back downstairs. She carefully set the doe on top of the paper so Brenn might see it, then slipped off the bracelet Rori had made for her. She couldn’t take it with her. It would slip from her leg the moment she took her deer form. Besides, she needed to convince them she wanted to move on. If she left these treasures behind, perhaps Brenn would think she didn’t care about them. As painful as it was to do such a thing, it was necessary. Seren held the bracelet to her lips, kissing it tenderly. A tear slipped from her eye and fell onto the note below. Cursing, she swiped it away, hoping it wouldn’t leave a stain. She wanted to stand there and cry for a good ten minutes, but it was time for her to go. The afternoon was creeping up, and Brenn would be home soon.
As she crossed the room, heading for the door, Seren began stripping her clothes away. They would just tear to pieces if she transformed with them still on. When she was free of their confines, she folded them neatly and placed them on a wooden chair beside the door before pulling it open. The winter air pierced her naked flesh with its biting teeth, and she sucked in a breath of shock. Nevertheless, she stepped out into the snow barefoot, calling upon her glamour.
It had been so long since she’d done this, but her magic obeyed her request without trouble. Her bones began to shift, and her skin rippled. Her neck and ears lengthened, her arms and legs grew thin. Her fingers and toes melded together and became the cloven hooves of a young doe. When she was finally in her wild form, Seren shook herself before becoming immediately alert. Her large ears swiveled, and her nostrils flared. Her hearing was much clearer now, and she could discern so many more scents. Fresh snow, distant wood smoke, the manure and hay from down in the barn. With one last doleful look at the great stone farmhouse, she bounded forward, careening down the hill and crossing the creek in two leaps. As soon as she hit the opposite bank, she darted into the trees, trying to leave her sorrows behind as she fled into the forest.
***
“Uncle!” Rori called out in his frantic child’s voice.
Brennon groaned and leaned against the door, shutting out the encroaching twilight.
“Not now, Rori,” he replied, his tone weary.
His hunt with Artur had proved fruitless, and Dermot had cracked his hoof on the ride home. On top of everything else, the slow, sickening return of the faeduhn magic was proving more painful than he’d thought possible. Whatever Seren had done to banish it in the first place must have made it twice as determined to regenerate itself. Like gangrene that hadn’t been completely cut away. For weeks, it had been slowly gnawing away at him, putting him in a foul mood and keeping him up most nights. In his current state, he had no time for his nephew’s exaggerated troubles.
Keeping her at a distance probably didn’t help, his inner voice commented.
Brenn only gave a mental growl in response. Keeping her at a distance was for her own good, despite the cost to him.
“But it’s important!”
Brennon tilted his head toward the open beams of the ceiling above, praying to the Celtic gods and goddesses to grant him some patience. It was always important.
“Unless there is a fire in the barn, I don’t need to hear it.”
All he wanted to hear was the cheerful crackle of the fire from the comfort of his bed. He was so very tired.
He started to head toward the stairs when Rori blurted, “Seren’s gone!”
That stopped Brenn dead in his tracks. Spirits of Eile. His overwhelming weariness evaporated, and he was suddenly wide awake.
“What do you mean she’s gone?”
Once so urgent, Rori now quailed before his uncle.
“Rori, tell me,” Brennon demanded, trying very hard not to shout.
“I-I took a nap, and when I woke up, I called out for her. I checked her room, but she wasn’t there. Then, I checked the barn and the rest of the house, but I couldn’t find her anywhere.”
Tears spilled from his nephew’s eyes, and the boy wrung his hands anxiously. Something, besides Seren’s absence, had him deeply worried.
Brenn knelt before him and placed his hands on the boy’s shoulders.
“Rori,” he said gently. “Rori, what’s wrong?”
The boy lowered his eyes, falling upon Brenn’s face as if he could see the bridge of his nose and the curve of his cheek.
“I shouldn’t have gone inside!” he rasped.
Brenn’s brow creased in confusion. “Rori, what are you talking about?”
“I should have stayed with her. I knew they were bad, I could feel it.”
Ice formed in Brennon’s heart and spiked outward, making it hard for him to breathe.
“What happened, Rori?” he demanded.
Rori babbled on, as if he hadn’t heard his uncle. “Two men. They said they were looking for you. I went inside, like Seren asked, but I heard some of what they said. Mistletoe. They were talking about the mistletoe. Seren came in after they left, but now she’s gone!”
A dagger of fear cut into Brennon’s stomach, the pain far worse than what the Morrigan’s black magic was currently doing to him.
“Who was here, Rori?”
His voice was low, almost guttural. Had he been one of the wolfhounds, Brenn would be snarling right now. He was about to repeat his question when the truth dawned upon him. Rori had mentioned mistletoe ... Gods and goddesses of Eile, no ... Brenn drew in a rattling breath as he struggled to stand back up.
“Uscias,” he whispered. “Baird.”
Rori hadn’t heard him, but as soon as Brenn removed his hands from his nephew’s shoulders, the boy began shaking so badly his teeth chattered.
“I-I’m s-s-sorry!” he stammered, wrapping his arms around his middle.
Brenn reached down and scooped him up, cradling him to his chest.
“Hush, Rori. Be still. This is not your fault, do you understand me? Not your fault. I’m going to find Seren. I’m going to find her and bring her back.”
He rocked Rori back and forth, the way he had when the boy was younger and the death of his parents and grandparents still gave him ni
ghtmares. For five minutes, Brenn crooned to his nephew, running his hand down his hair and doing his best to reassure him, all the while fighting down the panic as he imagined Seren in the clutches of Baird and Uscias. Fierce, sharp anger rose up inside of him, spurred on by his volatile glamour. He would kill them. He would rend them limb from limb.
Finally, Rori’s sobbing subsided to gentle sniffling.
“I’m okay, Uncle. You have to go get Seren.”
Nodding, Brenn set Rori down in one of the stuffed chairs and wrapped a blanket around him.
“Stay inside, Rori. Do not open the door for anyone. I’ll leave the dogs with you. I may be gone for a day or two, so don’t worry if I don’t return right away.”
As he said this, he headed for the door, pulling his heavy cloak from its place on the hook and reaching for his bow and the quiver of arrows. Having just returned from a boar hunt, most of his knives were already strapped to his person. Brenn pulled the door open, intent on returning to the barn to saddle Dermot. The crack in his hoof wasn’t serious enough that he couldn’t carry his master into town.
It was when Brennon stepped out onto the snow that he noticed it, a thin trail of deer tracks leading from the house and disappearing over the edge of the hill. He paused, bewilderment clouding his thoughts. The light was waning, so he moved closer to get a better look. One set of tracks, leading through the yard and into the creek ... No, into the woods.
Brennon stood abruptly and jogged back into the house. He needed to ask Rori if Seren had said anything else to him. Perhaps his enemies hadn’t taken her after all. Maybe she just needed to get some air after the encounter. Brenn wanted to believe that, but the anxiety and fear rearing its ugly face refused to back down.
Rori was already asleep in his chair, so Brenn did a quick check of the room, hoping to find some evidence explaining Seren’s intentions. He found it on the desk by the bookshelves. Pinned down beneath the wooden statue of the doe and a bead and twine bracelet was a note. One word, scrawled in the careful hand of someone who was just learning to write, stared back at him, black and stark and final.
Goodbye.
Brennon stood there for several minutes, staring at the word as if waiting for it to transform into something more beautiful. He thought of the hoof prints in the snow, of the way Seren had been keeping her distance from him, even cowering away when he entered the room. He recalled how, in the past few weeks, he had been sure to give her that distance, believing it was the right thing to do. Believing he would only taint her with the dark magic he simply could not shake. Seren hadn’t been kidnapped. He had driven her away, and Baird’s and Uscias’ impromptu visit had been the final push. This was all his fault.
Brenn turned his eyes from the paper and stared into the fireplace, watching the flames dance as if their movements were meant to taunt him. He had told Rori he would go after Seren, but maybe she didn’t want him to. Maybe she wanted to return home. Deep in his heart, he knew Seren didn’t really belong with him and his nephew. She had the spirit of the wild living within her. A broken, faeduhn-plagued ex-soldier and a damaged little boy could hardly be enough to tempt her to settle down. She deserved something better.
But so do you, Brennon, a voice whispered into his mind. The evil infecting you was not of your making. You, too, deserve the chance at happiness. Go after her. Go after her and tell her the truth. All of it. And when you are standing there, your soul bared to her, if she still wishes to leave, you can let her walk away. But to allow her to leave without knowing the entire story, cheats you both.
Brenn’s glamour flared up again, its heat gnawing at his senses and pressing him to follow his heart. For once, it overshadowed the darkness within him, and this time, he would do its bidding. His conscience was right. Seren was free to leave whenever she wished, but he owed it to her, and mostly, he owed it to himself, to tell her what he was and how he felt about her.
With one last glance at Rori to make sure he was well, Brenn jerked the door open and stepped out into the late afternoon light. He closed the door securely behind him and pointed his feet in the direction of the deer tracks. If it took him all night and the entirety of the next day, he would find her.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Divulgence
Seren had taken her doe form, but she’d only traveled two miles, at most. By the time Brennon tracked her down, the deepening of twilight was upon them. She stood in a small, somewhat hidden clearing just off the game trail he had been following. The secluded glen was mostly free of snow, the evergreens growing nearby providing a thick canopy overhead. Seren’s delicate, animal form was as beautiful as her Faelorehn one, and he knew it was her because she didn’t bolt like most deer would. Instead, she turned upon hearing his approach, regarding him with sad eyes. Maybe he imagined the sorrow. Or secretly hoped for it. If Seren was uncertain about her decision, perhaps he could convince her to return home with him.
Before she could change her mind and bolt, Brenn cleared his throat and said, “Rori was worried.”
The doe flicked one ear back, as if considering his pathetic attempt at conversation. She turned her head, her eyes focused on the overgrown thickets on the opposite end of the clearing, and took one step in that direction.
“Wait,” Brennon said, his voice rougher than before. “Would you at least talk to me?”
The doe returned her gaze to Brenn, and then to his utter surprise, her features began to melt and warp. Her long, graceful neck shortened and her large ears grew smaller. When the transformation was over, she stood before him, completely nude. Brennon sucked in a sharp breath, his heart racing. She was beautiful, so very beautiful. Swallowing hard, he averted his eyes and quickly removed his cloak, holding it out to her. He almost flinched when the heavy wool garment slipped from his fingertips, but he didn’t look up.
Her voice thick, Seren murmured, “I couldn’t stay any longer.”
Tears formed in her eyes, and although the fading light made it hard to see, it in no way diminished the anguish surrounding her; tainting her aura the way the faeduhn magic stained his.
“I cannot stay, Brenn,” she repeated, her voice nothing more than a rasp.
Brennon shoved his fingers in his hair and raked his hands back over his head.
“If this is about my behavior during the past few weeks...” he trailed off.
Seren shook her head, holding up a hand. “This has nothing to do with that. I appreciate your kindness Brenn, truly, I do. And you have been so very kind. I, I know I should have been more understanding about the Samhain ritual, and I’m sorry I was so abrupt about our dance on Solstice Eve. The truth is, I miss the Weald. I miss the deep magic of that forest. It calls to me, and I simply cannot wait until spring.”
His mouth suddenly dry, Brennon swallowed. Gods, she really was leaving. She really wanted to go. How had he not seen this coming? Because you were too busy brooding over your own troubles to notice. It was time to fix this mess he’d created.
Seren took a step back, as if preparing to run, but Brenn moved to block her way. He held up his hands to stave off her alarm.
“You have not given me a chance to speak,” he said, moving slowly away from her to give her some space.
Seren tightened her jaw and met his gaze, the deep blue hue of twilight muting everything but her bright eyes. She was closer to him now, but not near enough to reach out and pull her closer. As much as he desired to do so, such a move would be unwise. He had just watched her transform before his eyes, and it wouldn’t take much to convince her to do so again.
Drawing on what little patience he had left, he took a long breath and said, “We don’t want you to leave, Rori and me. Please, Seren. This is entirely my fault. I have been distant and cold lately, but it is not because of anything you’ve done.”
“Why can’t you understand?” she cried suddenly, cutting his explanation short. “You’re only making it more difficult! My continued presence will only bring heartache for all of us,
trust me. Why can’t you–”
Shock cut Seren’s sentence short as Brenn made his move, swiftly closing the space between them. He was tired of keeping his distance, tired of playing it safe. She needed to hear what he had to say, and he feared she’d bolt before he got the chance to get it all out. Reaching forward, he took Seren’s face into his hands. Her eyes widened, and she stiffened just enough to let him know she would resist him if need be. He would just have to convince her otherwise.
Brushing a thumb across her cheek, he murmured, “And have you considered the agony you would cause by leaving? I was a soldier in an army ruled by the Morrigan, Seren. I have witnessed more evil and cruelty than any Faelorehn man or woman should ever have to see. I have felt the bite of the whip when I refused to abide by her rules, and my home is frequently set upon by her unnatural monsters, even now. Rori and I have learned to survive it. We have both been through our share of horrors, a never-ending cycle promising to haunt us forever. And then you stumble into our lives and give us the first sunshine after an endless stretch of stormy days. How can you think your departure would be for the best? If you do not care, then that is one thing. If the words you just spoke are genuine, then I’ll let you go. But first, let me finish what I mean to say. For so long, I have told myself what I was feeling was wrong, that I didn’t deserve what I wanted so fiercely in my heart. That it was unfair to you. But I can fight it no longer. You have seen me at my worst, Seren. You have witnessed the darkness that threatens to take me every day, and you have not been afraid to embrace me, knowing the risk. I have taken notice of the way you watch me, and it reminds me of everything I have fought so hard to suppress. Even after all that, I have but one request of you, Seren.”
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