Anne Bishop - The House of Gaian

I have the power to shape a world beyond this world, but I don't know how to change this. I know nothing that can change this.

"What do you want, Morag?" she asked gently.

One tear spilled down a dark, leathery cheek. "I want to go home."

Silence.

Then…

"Merry meet, and merry part, and merry meet again."

A moment caught by the eye, frozen by memory.

Morag, standing straight and tall, turning toward that voice.

Ashk, waiting, the bow drawn back, her eyes clear and yet filled with a terrible grief.

Then the arrow sang Death's song. Pierced the chest. Found the heart.

And Morag fell.

" Noooo !" Morphia screamed as Aiden struggled to hold her back.

Ashk dropped her bow, moved forward slowly.

"How could you?" Morphia screamed. "How could you?"

Ashk stared at the body. "I promised to do what needed to be done."

Mist rose from the body, took the shape of a slender, lovely woman.

Morag turned to look at her sister. Raised a hand in farewell to Aiden and Lyrra. When she looked at Ashk, she smiled.

"You'll be missed," Ashk said softly. "Don't stay away too long."

Morag raised her arms. Her ghost changed into the shape of a raven. As she flew toward the shimmering road that suddenly opened in the field, Selena watched ghosts flow up the road behind her as Morag led the spirits of the dead to the Shadowed Veil for the last time.

Before Selena could say anything, do anything, Ashk turned away from all of them and started walking toward the rise.

Ashk reached the top of the rise before Breanna caught up to her.

"Ashk! Ashk !"

Ashk stopped walking, but didn't turn to look at her.

Breanna reached out but didn't touch. Ashk looked like a woman about to shatter. She knew how that felt. "She shouldn't stay in that field, Ashk. She shouldn't be buried near that. . . place. Where should we take her to give her back to the Mother?"

Ashk swallowed hard. "Morphia is her sister. It should be Morphia's choice."

"No," Breanna said slowly, "I don't think so." She waited until Ashk looked at her. "You freed Morag from what she'd become, for her sake. Morphia would choose a place that gives her comfort, but you'll choose a place that's right for Morag."

Ashk clenched her hands, and Breanna watched strength battling grief. Finally, Ashk said, "Somewhere in the Old Place. A spot where there are shadows and light."

"As you will, so mote it be," Breanna said.

She watched Ashk walk down the other side of the rise. Alone.

Ashk took a deep breath to steady herself before knocking on the guest room door. "Morphia? It's Ashk."

She waited a long time before she heard a muffled, "Come in if you must."

She stepped into the room, closing the door behind her—and simply watched in silence while Morphia packed her saddlebags.

"Where are you headed?" Ashk finally asked.

"I don't know yet. Maybe back to the home Clan for a while."

"If you can wait a couple more days, you can ride with—"

"I don't want to ride with you, Ashk." Morphia's hands clenched around the camisole she'd just folded. Sighing, she shook it out, refolded it, and tucked it into the saddlebag before looking at Ashk. "I don't want to ride with you, Hunter. You did what you thought was right—and maybe it was. But you didn't give it a chance. If I'd had another moment or two to collect myself, I could have put her to sleep for a while—at least until the witches had a little time to discover if they could have changed her back."

A moment or two , Ashk thought bleakly. You might not have had that moment or two. If she lost control of what was inside her for even a heartbeat of time, you could have ended up dead. Worse than dead. Would you have wanted Morag to fight her way back to clarity to find your torn body, to find no trace of your spirit, knowing what must have happened to it ? But she couldn't say those things to the woman staring at her with dark, grief-filled eyes.

Morphia shook her head and went back to packing her saddlebags. "Maybe if Sheridan had lived . . . Maybe when enough time has passed . . . But right now, Ashk, when I look at you, all I see is the person who killed my sister. So I don't want to travel with you. I don't want to be in the part of Sylvalan where you rule. There's work to be done in the world. I'll find a place to do it."

"Safe travel, Morphia," Ashk said as she opened the door.

"Ashk." Morphia hesitated. "For Morag's sake, and in her memory, I wish you gentle dreams."

Ashk bolted out of the room, turned blindly down the hallway, and ran straight into Aiden.

He caught her arms to keep them both from a tumble. When he saw the door, still partially open, he slipped an arm around her shoulders and led her to the room she shared with Gwynith. She was grateful Gwynith wasn't there and wished desperately that Padrick was.

"Liam asked us to stay for the council meeting tomorrow," Aiden said. "He seems to think my writing is neater than his, and he wants to be sure the other barons can read the decisions that are made without stumbling over half the words. You're staying, too?"

Ashk nodded. "I'll leave after the meeting." I want to go home . The words echoed in her head, in her heart.

"You'll be heading back to Bretonwood?"

She nodded again.

"In that case, if you don't mind the company, Lyrra and I will travel with you for a while."

"Your company is always welcome, Bard."

After giving her shoulder a comforting squeeze, he left her.

She stared out the window for a long time, not really seeing anything. Finally she stretched out on the bed and did something she hadn't allowed herself to do. She cried.

Breanna sat on the bed, feeling awkward as she watched Fiona pack. "You're welcome to stay. You know that."

Fiona joined her on the bed and rested a hand on Breanna's cheek. "I know, darling Breanna. We all know that. But the Hunter knows where Jennyfer and Mihail found safe harbor, so his wife and daughter will travel with her as far as the western bay and take a ship from there. And the rest of us . . . We have to go back."

"You don't know what you'll find there. You don't know if there's anything left."

"Then we'll start again. Build again. And one day our ships will sail down the Una River and out to sea again. But whatever we find there, it's still home. We need to reclaim what was ours."

"I understand."

Fiona's brows drew together in a worried frown. "You're welcome to come with us. You don't have to stay here alone."

Breanna forced herself to smile. "I won't be alone. Clay, Edgar, and Glynis will still be here." Neither of them mentioned Falco, who had made a fumbling excuse about needing to do something before riding away an hour ago.

Fiona went back to her packing. "You'll write to me on a regular basis, just to let me know how things are going."

"Yes, I will." Breanna stood up and hugged her cousin. "I'm glad you were here."

When she went outside a little while later, she found Falco sitting on the bench beside the kitchen door. He sprang up as soon as he saw her.

"Breanna? Could we talk?"

Why not ? she thought, suddenly weary. She sank down on the bench. He sat on the other end—the polite distance required between strangers. Were there some standard phrases gentry women used when a lover was trying to say he was leaving? She'd have to ask Elinore so she'd be prepared next time. If her heart was ever willing to risk a next time.

"Breanna, maybe it's too soon, all things considered, but. . ." He reached down, picked up a basket, and set it between them. "I got this for you."