Anne Bishop - Shadows and Light

Morag watched Ashk and Neall walk toward the woods. Neall looked human, but his father had been half Fae and his mother had been a witch, a Daughter of the House of Gaian. Ever since their arrival here last summer, after he and Ari had fled from Ridgeley and the Inquisitors who had come there to destroy Ari because she was a witch, Ashk had been teaching him how to nurture the power that had lain dormant within him, how to be a Lord of the Woods.

That much Morag had learned from Neall in the handful of days since they had welcomed her as friend and family and invited her to stay with them. But there were things she sensed weren’t being said when she spent time with the Fae who lived in this Old Place. More often than not, when she asked a question, the answer was, “That is for Ashk to answer.” And Ashk, who could be quite forthright about many things, turned away far more questions than she answered.

Who are you, Ashk? I’ve never seen a Lord or Lady of the Woods rule over a Clan the way you rule this one. Who are you that you can command this kind of obedience? That’s the real question no one will answer. Not even you.

“The weeds are down here,” Ari said.

“What do you do with the weeds after you’ve pulled them from the soil?” Morag asked, putting aside the questions that had no answers.

“They go in the compost piles at the end of the garden,” Ari replied. “The heat of the sun, the rain, and the wind all help turn them into a rich food for the earth.”

Earth, air, water, and fire. The four branches of the Great Mother. The four branches of power that were the heritage of witches.

Life and death. Shadows and light. Witches understood those things, too.

Morag sank to her knees beside Ari. “All right. Show me what to weed.”

Ashk wandered the forest trails with Neall, her thoughts and feelings too scattered to remain focused on the intended lesson. Neall wasn’t paying much attention either. There were times in the woods when one could drift peacefully with one’s thoughts turned elsewhere. And there were times when a moment’s inattention could be fatal. A snapped twig, a subtly different scent in the wind were enough warning for her, but Neall was still learning to use the gifts that had come from his father and couldn’t afford to be careless.

Although, Ashk thought, when the teacher’s mind wanders, it’s hard to fault the student for the same thing.

“Since it’s only your body that trails along with me, should we end the day’s lesson?” Ashk asked mildly.

“What?” Neall looked puzzled; then he smiled an apology. “Sorry. My mind was elsewhere.”

“When you’re in the woods, young Lord, keep your mind with you.”

“Yes, Lady.” He hesitated. “There’s nothing wrong, is there? With Ari or the babe?”

“Why would you think there was?”

“You all seemed so serious when I approached the kitchen garden, so I wondered if Ari had mentioned something to you and Morag that she wouldn’t have told me.”

There were plenty of things Ari had said, none of which she wanted to discuss with the young man standing nearby.

“Ashk—”

“If you must know, we were comparing the cocks of the lovers we’ve known.” She spoke without thinking, answering him the same way she answered Padrick whenever he prodded her about something that she didn’t want to talk about. Padrick always laughed and held up his hands in surrender, knowing she’d talk to him when she was ready—or wouldn’t talk if whatever was on her mind wasn’t hers to tell.

She wasn’t prepared for the stricken look Neall gave her before he turned away.

Fool, she thought. You not only stepped off the trail, but you also landed in a tangle of thorns.

“So,” Neall said quietly. “How do I compare?”

Ashk stared at him. “ Neall . I was teasing.”

The uncertainty in his eyes revealed things he’d kept well hidden until now.

“Ari chose you, Neall.”

“There wasn’t much choice,” he replied. “Not after the Inquisitors showed up in Ridgeley.”

“She made her choice before they came,” Ashk replied sharply. “That’s what you told me. Was it a lie?”

Neall shook his head. “But I can’t help wonder if... I wonder if I disappoint her as a lover, if she feels with me as much as she felt with ...” His voice trailed off. He wouldn’t meet her eyes.

“If she feels as much with you as she felt with the Lightbringer,” Ashk finished. Her emotions soared, as ferocious as they were protective. “Ari chose you, not Lucian. You. He’s not the one who’s been warming her bed all these months. It’s not his child she carries. Has she ever given any indication that what you share in bed doesn’t please her as much as it pleases you?”

“Of course not,” Neall replied hotly. “She’d never say anything even if—”

“If what?” Ashk said, just as hotly. “If you think she doesn’t enjoy your lovemaking, you should pay more attention. The two of you—” She broke off, trying to hold back feelings that had been building inside her for months. “You’re more like your father than you know.”

“What do you mean?” Neall asked.

Ashk laughed softly, a pained sound. “Kief used to worry over whether or not he was good enough for Nora, whether or not he pleased her as a lover. Your grandmother didn’t approve of him, you know, because he wasn’t a witch’s son or even pure Fae. But he loved Nora, and she loved him in that quiet, deep way she had. She planted beans that first summer. Lots of beans. Because they were his favorite. He didn’t understand it was a declaration of love, didn’t understand that passion doesn’t always burn hot and bright on the surface, not when it’s deeply rooted in the heart.”

“I remember them,” Neall protested. “I remember their laughter, how they looked at each other. I was a child when they died, and maybe I didn’t understand what those looks meant, except that I always felt warm and safe, but I would have known if they were unhappy with each other. I would have felt it.”

Ashk leaned against the nearest tree. “You can’t see how you and Ari look at each other. For me, it’s like seeing Nora and Kief again. The way you work together, laugh together, squabble about chores. The way you both look on some mornings, it’s obvious you spent a long night in bed and didn’t spend much of that time sleeping.” She sighed, closed her eyes. “There are times when I’ve come here and seen this dark-haired woman hanging out the wash. I almost call out Nora’s name before she turns and I know it’s Ari.” She opened her eyes and fixed her gaze on Neall. “It’s easy for passion to blaze for a short time when you don’t have to consider all the small day-to-day things that make up the rest of a person’s life. It flares hot and burns out quick, unless it’s nourished. When it came down to a choice, Lucian couldn’t offer enough to give her a reason to stay. Consider that the next time you doubt, young Lord of the Woods. A Daughter of the House of Gaian chose you over the Lightbringer, the Lord of the Sun.”

Neall picked up a small dead branch and idly broke it into pieces. “I don’t remember my grandmother. When did she die?”

“She hasn’t yet.” Ashk saw his eyes widen. “She lives on Ronat Isle with her Lord of the Sea, her selky man.”

“But—”

“Cordell’s gift is water, but it’s the wildness of the sea that calls to her, not the quieter songs of rivers and streams. This Old Place is too far away from the sea for someone like her. By the time I came to live here, she had left for good, leaving Nora and the land in her own mother’s care.”

Neall snapped to attention. “Came to live here? This wasn’t your Clan?”