Anne Bishop - Shadows and Light

Aiden had been reluctant to travel farther into the Old Place once they’d gone in far enough to feel the change. But she’d insisted that they needed to find out if any of the Fae whose Clan territory was anchored to this Old Place had managed to escape from Tir Alainn before the shining road through the Veil closed, trapping them beyond the reach of the human world ... or even their own kind.

The wind shifted slightly, bringing the smell of decay and rotting flesh.

Aiden reined in suddenly, his attention on a cluster of dead trees they’d have to pass between in order to continue on this trail.

Lyrra studied the trees neighboring the dead ones. What were those dark clumps in the branches?

“Lyrra,” Aiden said in a quiet, strained voice. “Turn the mare. Go back up the trail as fast as you can. We need to get back to the road or find a meadow, a field. Anything with sunlight.”

“Aiden...”

Pieces of the dark clumps on the trees fell off, spread bat-like wings, and flew straight for them.

Nighthunters!

Lyrra wheeled the mare. The horse needed no urging to gallop recklessly back the way they’d come. Fae horses had silent hooves, so she couldn’t hear Aiden’s gelding and the packhorse behind her—but she heard the hungry, angry squeaking of the creatures the black-coated Inquisitors created by twisting the magic in an Old Place. The nighthunters were flesh eaters—and they were soul eaters.

Sunlight, sunlight, Lyrra chanted silently. They had to get out of the shadows of the woods. The nighthunters didn’t like sunlight. Why hadn’t she yielded to Aiden’s reluctance to enter this Old Place? He’d spent close to a year on the road and would have seen far more Old Places that had been stripped of their magic than she had in the few weeks she’d been traveling with him.

He was behind her, closer to the danger that flew in pursuit. If something happened to him because she’d insisted ...

Her mare suddenly veered left, almost throwing Lyrra out of the saddle. She hung on grimly, letting the animal choose the way and hoping the mare’s instinct would get them to safety in time.

It felt like they’d been fleeing for hours when the mare slid down a bank, splashed through the shallow stream, then scrambled up the other bank.

A few heartbeats later, they galloped out of the trees into a sunlit meadow.

Thank you, Mother , Lyrra thought as she slowed the mare. Thank you .

Then she looked back, expecting to see Aiden. And saw nothing but the trees.

She reined the mare to a stop. Slid out of the saddle. Stared at the trees.

Behind her a horse neighed a greeting.

Spinning around, Lyrra saw the black-haired woman riding toward her.

No, Lyrra thought, sinking to the ground. Not Morag. Not the Gatherer. Go away! He doesn’t need you! It’s not his time! Aiden!

“Lyrra?” the woman said, dismounting so quickly she stumbled before catching her balance and running the rest of the way to where Lyrra sat on the ground. “Lyrra? Are you hurt?”

Lyrra looked at the woman who now knelt beside her. She pressed her hand against her mouth to hold back the weeping. If she started, she wasn’t sure she would stop.

Not Morag. This was Morphia, Morag’s sister. The one who was called the Sleep Sister and the Lady of Dreams.

“Are you hurt?” Morphia asked again.

Lyrra shook her head.

“Are you alone?”

“I—” I don’t know . “Aiden ...”

Morphia looked around. “He must have followed a different trail through the woods. That’s him, isn’t it?”

Lyrra twisted around, saw Aiden and the horses cantering toward her.

“Aiden!” she cried, scrambling to her feet. She ran to meet him.

He barely waited for his gelding to stop before he was out of the saddle, rushing toward her. He pulled her into his arms. Held on tight.

“Are you all right?” he asked hoarsely, kissing her cheek, her neck, anything he could reach without letting go of her.

“I’m fine. I’m fine. And you?”

“I’m fine.”

She pulled back far enough to really kiss him, looked at his face, then gave him a shove that startled him enough to break his hold and make him step back a couple of paces. Anger burned through her, sweet and hot.

“You did it deliberately, didn’t you?” she shouted. “You kept going along the forest trail so the nighthunters would follow you instead of me. Didn’t you?”

“Of course I didn’t,” he replied sharply. He raked his hand through his black hair. “Mother’s tits, Lyrra, you disappeared down that game trail so fast, there was no chance to follow you. So I followed the trail I was on until I could head in the same direction you did.”

“With those nighthunters chasing you every step of the way!”

Anger flashed in his blue eyes. “They weren’t behind me once you disappeared. I thought they’d gone after you!”

He was the Bard. He could be a facile liar when he wanted to be. And he was lying to her now. If he’d truly thought the nighthunters had gone after her, he would have abandoned the packhorse and followed the game trail she’d taken. But a man and two horses offered more prey than a woman and a horse—especially when he’d been behind her.

Lyrra’s temper, goaded by fear and relief, soared. “You can keep your lies and your self-sacrificing—”

“Stop it!” Morphia hurried toward them. “Stop it!”

Hearing pain beneath the anger, Lyrra bit her tongue to prevent herself from telling the other woman to stay out of a private quarrel.

“What’s wrong with you?” Morphia demanded. Her voice trembled. Broke. “You stand before the person who is dearest to you, knowing that person is alive and well and safe, and all you can do is quarrel?” She pressed a hand against her mouth and turned away from them.

Lyrra looked at Aiden. Together, they went to Morphia. Aiden put his arms around her while Lyrra stroked her hair.

“You’ve had no word from Morag?” Aiden asked quietly.

“None. Lucian and Dianna made good on their threat. She’s been shunned by all the Clans. No one will say if she’d visited their Clan. No one will acknowledge seeing her. She said she had a task to do, so we parted ways a few days after we left Ahern’s farm. I went back to our home Clan. I haven’t seen her since. I knew she wouldn’t go to any of the southern Clans, since they would be too close to Dianna and Lucian’s Clan. I’ve looked for her in the midlands and the north. I thought she might have come back to the eastern part of Sylvalan since the trouble is here, so I—”

“It isn’t safe for a woman to travel in the east, especially a woman traveling alone,” Aiden said sharply.

“And well I know it,” Morphia replied bitterly. “There was a place,” she continued softly. “I was called there by need so great I couldn’t deny it. So many human women crying out. So much pain, so much fear. I felt their dream, helped them shape it, saw it as if I was standing just beyond reach. I stayed as long as I dared to feed the magic that would let them dream together because it would fade once I was gone, but I knew I had to get away from the east and whatever it is the humans have done there.” Giving Aiden a wobbly smile, she stepped back from his embrace.

“Where will you go now?” Lyrra asked. “Back to your home Clan?”

Morphia shook her head. “I’m going to find Morag. I’m going to the western Clans.”

Lyrra glanced at Aiden, relieved that he looked as startled as she felt.

“But... Morphia ...,” Lyrra said. “They’re the western Clans.” Clans the rest of the Fae avoided whenever possible because there was something about those Fae that made them all uncomfortable.