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Stone Song

Page 24

by D. L. McDermott


  “Because that’s where we got our power initially. It’s linked to them. There’s no untangling it. But it isn’t destiny. We don’t have to be like the Druids who came before us.”

  “I don’t want to be,” said Sorcha. “But I’m still not completely in control of my power, and there’s no one to teach me but Miach.”

  “He’ll have both of you back. He’s happy just to have Nieve and Garrett home.”

  “And Finn?” Sorcha asked. “Will he come after us again?”

  “Unlikely. You cracked the foundation on his house and put the fear of Dana into his followers. Even if they would obey his orders and attack you again, Finn doesn’t have the resources right now to direct at you. He has convinced the city that what took place was a gas explosion, but that doesn’t get him off the hook with the historical commission. He lives in a preservation zone. He’s got to put his house to rights if he wants to keep it and he needs to keep it if he means to hold Charlestown. It has leveled the playing field between Finn and Miach.”

  Beth promised to visit again when she returned.

  “We’ll have moved,” said Sorcha confidently.

  “In with Miach?” asked Beth.

  “No,” Elada said flatly. “To Quincy.”

  Later that day they were cleaning out Gran’s still room—the estate agent had taken one look at it and said to call her after it was emptied—and Sorcha said, “Quincy is too far. I need to be able to walk to the train with my harp for gigs.”

  “I can drive you.”

  “I don’t want to rely on you for rides. And I don’t want to drive into Boston myself. The parking is hell.”

  “The parking isn’t so bad.”

  “That’s because you park in fire lanes. I don’t.”

  And later that day Elada said, “We could get a condominium on the wharf. You could walk to the Black Rose.”

  “I thought you wanted a house, in Quincy.”

  “I did, until I mowed the lawn on this one.”

  Miach invited them to the house the next day. He agreed to continue Sorcha’s training. When he heard they were selling the ironbound house in Jamaica Plain, he approved. When they mentioned condominiums on the wharf, he did not.

  “The wharf is too close to Charlestown and Finn’s domains. Stay out of his way for a while at least. And get yourself a house.”

  They found one in Cambridge, a few blocks from Central Square, with no lawn but a small brick patio, walkable to the train and quite close to a couple of bars Sorcha liked to play. It took a month to close on the little clapboard two-story Greek Revival house. They moved in without furniture, and the first night they slept, blissfully, on a mattress on the floor, because it was not Gran’s house and there was no iron bed caging them.

  Sorcha fell into a routine, spending her days practicing with Miach and her early evenings playing the Black Rose and the cafés in Central Square. Her nights she spent at home with Elada.

  They were settled a month when Elada said, “You traveled a lot when you were studying your music, didn’t you?”

  “Yup,” she said. “From town to town.”

  “Do you ever miss it?”

  She considered. “All the time. I only went back to Gran’s because I was afraid of running into more Fae. At least in Boston I knew which neighborhoods to avoid.”

  “I’m glad you came back, because we met, but I want to know if you’re willing to travel again.”

  “The harp is kind of heavy,” she said.

  “I didn’t mean on foot.”

  “Playing bars isn’t exactly lucrative,” she said.

  “You wouldn’t be playing bars. Or, at least, we wouldn’t have to live on the money you earned. Miach thinks there may be others like you, stone singers, whom the Prince’s research has missed. He wants us to find them.”

  “I thought he had a long list of Druids from the Prince.”

  “He does, but the Prince, or one of his associates, has gotten to many of them already. If we’re going to fight him, we need to find more Druids like you, Sorcha.”

  She considered a moment. “I’ve gotten used to playing with accompaniment.”

  “You cannot bring the fiddler,” said Elada.

  “I wasn’t thinking of Tommy.”

  “And I don’t sing.”

  “That’s only because you’ve never been taught,” she said. And she reached for him and began his instruction.

  Also by D. L. McDermott

  Cold Iron

  Silver Skin

  Available from Pocket Star Books

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  This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2014 by Donna Thorland

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  First Pocket Star Books ebook edition June 2014

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  Designed by Kyle Kabel

  Cover photo by Hot Damn Design

  ISBN 978-1-4767-3441-5

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

 

 

 


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