Anne Bishop - The House of Gaian

He'd backed down, and Taihg had yielded enough to send him and Lyrra to Ashk, Bretonwood's Lady of the Woods, And there they had found the Hunter, who was not what they had expected . . . and more terrifying than he could have imagined.

Needing a rest from troubling thoughts, he gave his attention back to the music, and said, "Let's try it again to make sure it's set in the hands and the heart."

They went through it twice more before Aiden nodded, satisfied. "Can you get the part for the harp written in with what you've got for the whistle?"

"I-I haven't written anything down. It was just a little tune I—" Taihg swallowed hard as Aiden's blue eyes flashed with annoyance.

"Write it down," Aiden said. "Lyrra will need the music to learn the whistle part."

"Learn the— You actually want to play it outside of the Clan here?"

You'd think I'd just asked him to jump off a cliff. Maybe I have . "Yes, I want to play it. I want it heard. I want other bards to take it up and send it on." He began plucking idle notes again. "And I do want you to go with me for part of the journey."

"Me?" Taihg's voice rose close to a squeak. "Why?"

"The Ladies of the Moon are gathering somewhere in the midlands," Aiden said quietly, "but there's something not quite . . . right. . . about this. Dianna's power isn't waning, no one has come forward as the challenger who wants to try to take her place as the Lady of the Moon, and this isn't the phase of the moon when these challenges take place."

"There may not be a challenger, as such," Taihg said hesitantly.

"Meaning?"

"There's a saying in the west: The gift commands, and the gift chooses. That's why the Fae in the west haven't traveled to these gatherings much. It's really just a formality, a ritual so that the new leader can be acknowledged. If the gift chooses someone, that person will ascend no matter where he or she is."

"If that's the case," Aiden said grimly, "let's hope whoever ascends is in that Old Place tonight."

"Why?"

Aiden set his harp aside and turned on the bench to look at Taihg. "If Dianna loses, we need to know who the new Huntress is. We need to know if she's going to be like Dianna and refuse to do anything to help in the fight against the Inquisitors or if, the Great Mother willing, we might have another ally in the fight that's coming. When we leave here in the morning, we'll have a few days before Ashk has to decide if we're heading for the southern end of the Mother's Hills or going straight to Willowsbrook. I want you to travel with us until we get word about who the new Lady of the Moon is. Then you'll come back to the west and make sure all the bards and minstrels have all the information we can glean about her."

"Ashk will be getting that information, too, and she'll send word back to the west."

"How the Hunter and the Bard interpret that information may not be the same. Ashk needs to consider it from the view of protecting Sylvalan. I'll consider it with the view of deciding whether or not the minstrels and bards will support the female leader of the Fae, whomever she might be."

Taihg stared at him. "If you ridicule the Lady of the Moon in a song, the Clans won't have anything to do with you in fear of offending her ."

"Does that include the Clans in the west?"

Taihg hesitated, then shook his head. "No. Unless, of course, the Hunter takes offense."

"Then I've nothing to lose," Aiden replied. "The Clans beyond the west already disapprove of me."

Before Taihg could reply, an annoyed male voice beyond the courtyard said, "Mother's tits! Considering how far I've traveled, I'm going to talk to someone ."

Aiden couldn't hear a reply, but a moment later, a man strode into the courtyard. He had sable hair that fell to his shoulders and dark eyes full of sharp intelligence;—and more than a little annoyance. A tall man, with a honed body that moved with sleek grace, yet gave the impression of suppressed violence, like the sea on the edge of a storm.

The man was definitely Fae, but Aiden felt uneasy the moment he saw him. He rose to face the stranger.

"Who are you?" the stranger demanded.

"Aiden. The Lord of Song."

"The Bard, is it? I'm Murtagh, the Lord of the Selkies. I was looking for the Hunter, but you'll do for now."

"Will I?"

Murtagh flashed a feral smile that made Aiden wish for a large knife and the skill to use it. He had the feeling Murtagh possessed both.

"When you've the time, Bard, I'd appreciate it if you'd come by Selkie Island and give the minstrels there a bit of encouragement. We've a handful of them on the island, and there's not one of them that will lift his ass to fart let alone learn a new song. Don't any of you write anything new?"

"Occasionally," Aiden said dryly.

Murtagh eyed Taihg. "If you're too busy, you could send another bard."

"I get seasick," Taihg said quickly.

Murtagh sighed. "Well, see what you can do. I've been hearing the same songs since I was a boy. I'd throw the lot of them into the sea, but they're selkies, too, so it wouldn't gain me anything."

"I'll keep it in mind," Aiden said, "but there are other concerns right now."

"True enough." Murtagh raked a hand through his hair. "There's talk, Bard, and I don't like what I'm hearing."

"What have you heard?"

"That witches are being killed by men called Black Coats. That the Old Places are being taken over by humans, and the Small Folk are being driven out."

"It's true."

"Well. . . Mother's tits! Why aren't the Mother's Daughters going up the shining roads to escape and letting the Fae deal with the bastards?"

"The Fae in the east of Sylvalan refused to do anything to help the witches—and now the Fae are lost as well, trapped in their Clan territories in Tir Alainn after the shining roads closed. If they're surviving at all."

Murtagh stared at him. Then he swore softly. "If that's the case, they've gotten what they deserve."

Aiden studied Murtagh with more interest. "Would you allow a witch into your Clan's piece of Tir Alainn?"

Murtagh's dark eyes flashed with temper before he smiled ruefully. "My gran's a witch whose gift of water is best suited to the sea. She's fit and spry for a woman her age, but cold, damp weather is hard on old bones, so I bundle her and the other elders up every year when the autumn winds take on the edge of winter and tuck them in the Clan house in Tir Alainn. Not that she'll stay there. She misses the moods of the sea, so she'll come back down and spend a few days before she'll let me bundle her back up." He paused. "I've heard a young witch with a love of the sea has recently come to Sealand."

"I've heard that, too," Aiden said cautiously.

Murtagh shook his head. "I saw that ship pass. If I'd known there was a witch in the hold, I would have persuaded the captain to put in at one of our ports for a day or two."

"The witch is content where she is," Ashk said, stepping into the courtyard with Morag beside her.

Murtagh gave both women a long look and a small but courteous bow. "And I wouldn't have held her if she wasn't willing to stay. Just saying I would have liked an introduction before the lady decided on where to settle. We can offer as good a harbor as Ronat Isle."

Ashk's eyes searched his. "You would have offered her family safe harbor?"

"There's more of them?"

Aiden winced, wishing Murtagh's question didn't sound like he was ready to scoop up any witch that crossed his path, especially when Morag said, "Answer the question," in a voice that held a hint of the grave.

He saw Ashk shift her weight slightly and wondered what she thought she could do against the Gatherer if Morag decided to kill the Lord of the Selkies. Unfortunately, Morag had been withdrawn since they left Bretonwood, and not even Morphia had been able to discover why. But that dark turn of mood had made the rest of them cautious about dealing with the Gatherer of Souls.