Anne Bishop - Shadows and Light

She studied him more carefully. He didn’t look like the stallion had tossed him, but she wasn’t sure something hadn’t addled his brain. “He does have a sister, a year younger than me. I’ve never known her to write a letter about ribbons and sleeves, but if you make the mistake of asking, she can write you a page or two about which kinds of quills can be sharpened to the best point and hold that point the longest to produce the clearest hand when toting up numbers in a ledger.” She shrugged.

“Mother’s mercy,” he said. He started petting Oakdancer’s neck.

“Liam?” Breanna said gently. He really was starting to worry her.

“Yes?”

“You’re here.”

“Yes.”

“Why?” That came out a little sharper than she’d intended, but at least it got his attention focused again.

“Oh. I’m going to Durham tomorrow for a few days, and I... uh ... I wondered if there was anything you’d like me to bring back for you.”

She gave him her best wide-eyed sweet look—which probably didn’t look anything like what she’d intended, since all the color slowly drained out of his face. “You mean you’d shop for ribbons and lace if I asked you to?”

That’s mean, Breanna, she scolded herself. If he faints at your feet, you’ve only yourself to blame.

Liam cleared his throat. “I— If that’s what you might be needing.”

He’d do it. He looked miserable right now, and probably wished he’d never offered, but he’d do it.

“Why would you do that?”

“You’re my sister, and—”

Breanna stiffened. “I thought we’d settled that the other day.”

“We settled that you wouldn’t acknowledge my father as your own. We didn’t settle if you would or wouldn’t acknowledge me.”

As what? A brother? There were plenty of the old baron’s bastards who would be happy to acknowledge Liam as a brother. Why did he want that from her and not them?

“I need to think on it, Liam,” she said quietly. “I’ve thought of you for a lot of years as simply the baron’s son, and that never made me feel like we were kin. I need to think on it.”

Liam nodded.

“I thank you for the offer, but there’s nothing we need from Durham. We have kin who are merchants, so it’s easy enough to get something if we can’t find it in the village.” He looked so discouraged, she added hesitantly, “Perhaps a book?”

His smile was slow in coming, but it eased a strange tightness in her chest.

“I think I can manage a book,” he said. “I won’t keep you from your work any longer.” He mounted Oakdancer, then looked down at her. “Good day to you, Breanna.”

“Blessings of the day to you, Liam.”

She stayed where she was, watching him until he’d ridden out of sight.

I’ll think on it, Liam. I don’t know that I’ll give you the answer you seem to want, and I don’t understand why you want it, but I’ll think on it.

When she went back inside the house, Rory looked up from the soup and bread he was busy shoveling into his mouth. “Nuala wants to see you. In the morning room.”

“Don’t talk and eat at the same time,” Breanna said as she walked through the kitchen. “You’ll choke.”

Nuala was standing by a window, just staring out at the land. On the table near her sat the letter and two large bags that must have come from Rory’s saddlebags.

“Some of our kin will be visiting us this summer,” Nuala said quietly.

Breanna glanced at the letter. “We’d had word of that before. They’re coming for the Solstice.”

“Sooner than that, I think. Trevor was as careful about what he said as he was about what he didn’t say. But reading between the lines, I’d say he’s worried about what may be decided at the next barons’ council, and he wants the girls to be someplace else when the new decrees are announced. He also sent enough gold and silver coins to keep us all for a couple of years if it comes to that.”

“If the barons make a new decree, it will apply to all of Sylvalan, not just the eastern part.”

“We’re still farther away from the troubles that have been touching the east.” Nuala turned away from the window and looked at Breanna. “And we live at the foot of the Mother’s Hills. You know as well as I do that nothing the barons decree will make any difference in the Mother’s Hills.”

“I know.” Breanna took a deep breath, let it out in a huff. “I’d better give Glynis a hand in polishing up as many guest rooms as we can.”

Nuala just nodded and turned back to the window to look at the land.

All through that day, as Breanna helped Glynis prepare the rooms, her mind circled around one thought: Liam would be at the barons’ council, and if there was trouble heading toward her family, he would tell her soon enough.

“Lady Morag, have you seen Ashk?” Morag studied the young man rapidly approaching her. She couldn’t remember his name, but she’d seen him with the group of adolescents Ashk affectionately called the “pack.”

“She’s at the Clan house,” Morag said.

The young man grinned. “I wanted to give her fair warning. She’s about to have visitors.” He touched two fingers to his temple, giving Morag a jaunty salute before jogging down the forest trail that led to the Clan house.

Morag continued along the trail away from the Clan house for another minute. Paused. Looked back.

Turning in a slow circle, she opened herself to her power as the Gatherer and listened.

Death always murmured in the woods, just as life murmured there. But she heard no whisper from Death that indicated she was needed. Besides, there was the youth’s grin to consider—and the fact that Ashk had been oddly distracted while she’d been showing Morag some of the trails in the woods. Added to that was Ashk leaving her abruptly about an hour ago “to take a bath.”

Whose arrival could be important enough that this Clan’s Lady of the Woods would feel compelled to look her best in order to receive them?

A chill went through Morag. She could think of two Fae whose arrival might cause some excitement among the Clan here—the Huntress and the Lightbringer. The Lady of the Moon and the Lord of the Sun, the Lord of Fire.

Would Dianna or Lucian visit a western Clan? The rest of the Fae in Sylvalan tended to avoid the Fae in the west whenever possible. There was no reason those two would visit here. Unless, somehow, they’d heard that Ari was still alive and now lived in this Old Place.

But there was that youth’s grin and Ashk’s desire to look her best. Considering Ashk’s opinion of Lucian and Dianna, Morag didn’t think Ashk would make any special efforts for either of them.

Morag shifted to her other form, spread her black raven’s wings, and flew along the forest trail back to the Clan house.

Just to be safe. Just to be sure. As soon as she’d satisfied herself that these visitors were no threat to Ari and Neall, she’d return to the cottage.

As soon as you’ve satisfied your own curiosity, she admitted frankly. You want to see who could fluster Ashk.

Morag landed just out of sight of the Clan house, changed back to her human form, then walked the rest of the way. She reached the Clan house at the same time Ashk walked out one of the doors.

“How do I look?” Ashk asked, turning in a circle to show off the summer-green gown and the brown, richly embroidered overvest.

Like a gentry lady — except you have the pointed ears and feral looks of the Fae, Morag thought. “You look lovely.”

Ashk’s woodland eyes had a sparkle Morag hadn’t seen in them before.