Anne Bishop - Shadows and Light

Morag stood up. “As long as you’re all right about them being here, I need to get back. I left in a bit of a hurry, and I may have some rough edges to smooth over with Ashk.”

Ari gave Morag a thoughtful look. “If Neall and I come to dinner at the Clan house tonight, do you think that would help smooth those rough edges?”

“Yes, it would help. But if you come, you’ll have to stay overnight. Until we’re sure we’ve destroyed all the nighthunters, it wouldn’t be safe for the two of you to drive back through the woods.”

“I know. I’ll talk to Neall as soon as he gets back.”

“I’m glad you want to see them.”

“I liked them.” Ari made a face. “And I’ll like Aiden even better if he doesn’t make me sing.”

Feeling easier, Morag rode back to the Clan house—and hoped nothing had happened that would make it impossible to smooth those rough edges.

Lyrra stepped out of the women’s communal room and tried not to sigh. She would have gladly spent the day in that room, soaking in the deep tub of hot water, sitting by the window and daydreaming, or napping on one of the daybeds and not feeling awkward about the folded towels under her hips. Privacy and rest. She craved it this time with a need that made her want to weep. But she couldn’t leave Aiden alone in the room they’d been given, worried and brooding, and until they knew why Ashk had turned on them, she didn’t want to leave herself in a position where she and Aiden could be easily separated.

A door a little farther down the corridor opened. Ashk stepped out, hesitated, then approached.

“Do you have everything you need?” Ashk asked politely.

“Yes, thank you,” Lyrra replied, equally polite.

She had the sense that Ashk felt awkward around her. She hoped so. If you threatened to kill someone, you shouldn’t feel small civilities made up for it.

Why did you turn on us? Maybe she would have asked that question, woman to woman, if she hadn’t heard the sound of other women’s voices and knew the moment to ask the question had been lost.

Then Morag turned the corner and stopped suddenly when she saw them.

Lyrra noticed the tension building in Ashk. She wanted to get out of that corridor, away from Ashk and Morag. She wanted the reassurance that Aiden was safe.

“You left in a hurry,” Ashk said quietly.

“Yes,” Morag replied. “For that, I owe you and Aiden an apology, Lyrra.”

Morag looked uncertain, and Lyrra discovered it wasn’t something she liked seeing in the Gatherer.

“When you saw us, why did you ride away like that?” Lyrra asked.

Morag looked at Ashk while answering the question. “I thought their being here might bring up memories that were ... distressing ... especially after the attack by the Black Coats.”

“Were the memories distressing?” Ashk asked.

“No.”

Lyrra frowned. She’d asked the question, but only Morag and Ashk understood the answer.

Then Morag looked at her. “Ari is here.”

“Ari?” Lyrra’s heart gave a funny little jump before settling back to a proper rhythm. She took a step toward Morag. “Ari is here? She’s well? And ... and Neall? Is he here with her? Is he well?”

“They’re both well. She carries their first child.”

Lyrra laughed while tears filled her eyes. “Oh, this is wonderful! Aiden will be so pleased. Do you think—?” She looked into Morag’s dark eyes and some of the pleasure drained away. Black Coats attacking. Morag galloping away from the Clan house after seeing them, worried about distressing memories.

“You thought our being here would upset her?”

“Yes.”

You’re here, Morag. Why wouldn’t your presence upset her just as much? She knew the answer to that. She and Aiden had come with Dianna to celebrate the Summer Solstice with Ari, and, while they’d meant no harm, they hadn’t come honestly. They’d used the glamour to wear a human face and hide that they were Fae. They hadn’t known the magic Ari would call up when she did the spiral dance would reveal them for what they were. Their reasons hadn’t been cruel, but they had lied to her. They’d all lied to her. Except Morag. Morag had come to Brightwood as who and what she was. And in the end, she was the one who had helped Ari and Neall get away from Brightwood, from the Inquisitors—and from Lucian and Dianna.

Lyrra wiped the tears that dampened her cheeks. “I understand. Is it likely that she’ll come to the Clan house? Aiden and I... We’ll stay out of sight.” It hurt more than she expected to say that.

Morag shook her head. “She’d like to see you and Aiden—as long as Aiden doesn’t make her sing.”

Lyrra opened her mouth to make a hurried assurance, then just sighed. “When it comes to Aiden and hearing a new song, I’m not willing to promise anything. Although, I suppose I could threaten to sing loudly and off-key for the next month if he pesters her.”

“That sounds like a suitable punishment,” Ashk said dryly.

Lyrra nodded. “For Aiden it would be.”

Morag looked at Ashk. “Neall and Ari may be coming for the evening meal.”

“They’ll have to stay until morning,” Ashk said.

“I already told her that.”

Lyrra glanced at each of them and realized Morag and Ashk not only understood each other, but they also felt equally protective of Ari and Neall.

“If you’ll excuse me,” Lyrra said. “I’d better get back to Aiden.”

“Ari was hoping you and Aiden would be willing to sing a few songs this evening,” Morag said.

“It would be our pleasure.” Smiling at both of them, she hurried through the corridors of that part of the Clan house until she reached the room she and Aiden had been given.

He was still sitting on the window seat, silent. He stood quickly when she rushed across the room. When she threw her arms around his neck, he held her tightly against him.

“Lyrra?” he said worriedly.

She leaned back, and she knew he didn’t understand the tears welling up again as she smiled at him. But he would. Oh, he would.

“Aiden, I have wonderful news.”

Morag watched Lyrra hurry away before turning back to face Ashk. “I apologize if my hasty departure caused a problem.”

Ashk shrugged. “Nothing an apology from me can’t mend. And if it can’t be mended, so be it.”

Morag studied Ashk. “When I got back to the Clan house, I talked to a couple of the hunters standing watch. They told me Aiden and Lyrra would be killed if they tried to leave. Those were your orders.”

Ashk met her eyes without flinching, without regret. “Those were my orders. Now that I know why you left so hastily, I’ll withdraw that command.” She took a deep breath, let it out slowly. “I’m glad they didn’t test my sincerity.”

“Did you really think the Bard and the Muse were a threat?”

Ashk shook her head. “If they’d truly been a threat to the Clan, or to anyone else in Bretonwood, you wouldn’t have run, Morag. You would have killed them yourself.”

Ashk settled on one of the benches that formed a half-circle in front of the Clan house. Aiden and Lyrra took the center bench, quietly tuning instruments in preparation for the evening’s entertainment.

She’d spent most of the time before and during the evening meal watching them. Especially Aiden. She’d seen the sign of nerves as he’d rubbed his hands on his trousers when Ari and Neall had ridden up to the Clan house. She’d seen the strong emotions in his face and in his eyes when Ari shyly approached him—and realized it was meeting Ari last summer, however briefly, that had begun the journey that brought Aiden here now. She’d seen his delight when Morphia greeted him—and his relief when Morag came up to talk to him. She’d listened as Aiden and Padrick talked about traveling through the Mother’s Hills—and laughed together about someone named Skelly and his sweet granny.