Anne Bishop - Shadows and Light

“And she has love’s jewels.” Aiden sighed. “You made the right choice, Morag, giving them both the chance to get away from Brightwood ... and the Clan there. Lucian cared for Ari. I’m sure of that. But he wasn’t in love with her, and I think he always would have found her... wanting ... in some way, would have wanted her to be something other than who and what she is. He would have cared about her, would have continued to be her lover, probably would have sired a child on her in order to assure that there would continue to be a witch at Brightwood, but he wouldn’t have refused an invitation to a Fae lady’s bed when he went to Tir Alainn—and he never would have looked at Ari as if she contained all the joy in the world.”

“For Neall, she does.”

“I know. And she loves him.”

“Yes, she does.”

He didn’t want to talk about Lucian or Brightwood or the past anymore, so he was relieved when he saw Ashk and the other women walking toward the table—and he noticed Neall and the children approaching from the other direction, with Merle tagging along, looking hopeful. Studying the children, Aiden suspected the young shadow hound had good reason to feel hopeful about getting a share of the feast.

“Oh,” Morag said. “Ashk said she had the cooks roast a couple of chickens, especially for you, but she wasn’t sure if you preferred breasts or thighs. For some reason, Lyrra found that very funny.”

Remembering Ashk’s last comments about chickens and eggs, and seeing the way she was smiling at him as she approached, Aiden felt his face warm a bit. “Wonderful.”

“I’m glad I’m not playing tonight,” Aiden said, putting an arm around Lyrra’s waist as he watched the musicians check their instruments.

“No, you’re not,” she said, laughing quietly. “If they lent you an instrument, you’d be in the middle of them.”

“I don’t know the songs.”

“When has that ever bothered you?”

It did bother him a little. There was music here that had never been heard beyond the western Clans. The fault of those who had been the Bard before him. His fault since he’d become the Lord of Song for never having visited the western Clans until now. “I’ve played with them for the past few nights. Tonight I’ll simply enjoy being entertained.”

Oh, a few minutes of hearing the melodies of the songs they were playing tonight was all he would have needed to follow along with them, and play well. He didn’t tell Lyrra that he’d asked about playing with them tonight, and the musicians had looked uncomfortable and told him Ashk wanted his full attention on the entertainment.

Lyrra gave him a skeptical look, but didn’t have time to say anything before Ashk hurried up to them.

“Come along,” she said, looking at Lyrra. “I’ll show you your place for the spiral dance.”

“My place?” Lyrra said nervously. “I can’t participate in the dance. I’m not a witch.”

Ashk studied her for a moment. “You have woodland eyes. That means you claim some kinship to the House of Gaian. Tonight, that’s all you need.” She grabbed Lyrra’s hand and pulled her away from Aiden. “Come along. The steps are quite simple. Neall! Come along now!”

“Neall doesn’t have woodland eyes,” Aiden said to Padrick as the Baron of Breton came to stand beside him.

“No, he doesn’t. But his mother, Nora, was a witch. So he’ll join the dance.” Padrick smiled as he watched Ashk demonstrate the dance steps for Lyrra. “Ashk used to dance with Nora for the Solstice. She’s been looking forward to joining this dance again. Having Neall and Ari living here means a great deal to her.”

Not because they’re useful, Aiden thought as he watched several of the Fae take their places to form a large, loose circle, but because they are dear to her. For her, they’re like the favorite nephew and his beloved wife, finally returned home.

He heard the drums set a slow, measured beat to indicate the dance was about to begin. His heart pounded a little too quickly. He’d seen the spiral dance last Solstice, had felt the magic in Brightwood answer that dance. But Ari had danced alone that night, and the power they’d felt when she drew all that magic to herself and released it again had frightened the Fae who had come to her cottage pretending to be human.

“You’ve a hungry look about you, Bard,” Padrick said. “Did you have enough to eat?”

There was a hunger in him that had nothing to do with a full belly. He hadn’t realized how much he’d craved seeing this dance again when he knew what to expect. “Hmm?” Aiden said, feeling impatient with conversation that was distracting him. “Yes, I had plenty. Wonderful food. The only thing I’ve tasted that was better was some brown bread we’d had at a village on the way here.”

“Brown bread?” Padrick asked sharply. “Where was this?”

“A village. We took a road off the main one and had a meal in the village tavern.” Aiden frowned. He didn’t want to be impolite, but Ari was walking over to the circle; the actual dance would start any moment now.

“You stopped in Wiccandale?”

“Didn’t have a sign posted anywhere, so I can’t tell you which village it was.” Aiden turned his head slowly and stared at Padrick. “Wiccandale?”

Laughter danced in Padrick’s eyes. “You didn’t know, did you?”

“Know?”

“It’s a wiccanfae village.”

Aiden’s mouth fell open. “Are you saying it’s an entire village of witches ?”

Padrick coughed politely. “Only the women are called witches.”

“Mother’s mercy,” Aiden said weakly. An entire village of people who could trace their roots back to the House of Gaian. No wonder the village had the same feel as an Old Place. With the appearance of Black Coats in the west, no wonder they were wary of strangers.

Remembering the woman and the little girl, Kayla, he realized the Black Coats weren’t the only danger to those people. Would anyone be able to rouse the Clans to protect the witches and the Old Places if they knew there was a place where they could obtain another witch? The Fae might be unwilling to enter the Mother’s Hills, but a village in the west? Oh, yes. Dianna wouldn’t think twice about ordering the men of her Clan to ride to Wiccandale and take a couple of young witches. She wouldn’t care if those women were willing or not, as long as it freed her from being the anchor that held the shining road open at Brightwood. She would justify it as something owed to her because she was the Lady of the Moon.

“Bard.”

Something in Padrick’s voice pulled Aiden’s attention back to the here and now. He wasn’t sure if he was looking at a Fae Lord or the Baron of Breton. He suspected the feral heat he saw in Padrick’s eyes was one of the reasons the man was obeyed so readily.

“It was wonderful bread,” Aiden said softly. “It’s unfortunate that I wouldn’t be able to find my way back to that village.”

Padrick stared at him for a moment before nodding. “If witches were suddenly to go missing, it would displease the Fae in the west—”

Displease the Hunter, you mean.

“—and it would displease me, since Wiccandale is in the county I rule, and I have a responsibility to those people.”

“I understand.”

“Yes,” Padrick said quietly, “I thought you would.” He lifted his chin slightly. “The dance is starting.”

Aiden turned back to the meadow in time to see Ari take the first steps of the dance. He already felt the eddies and currents of magic in this Old Place start to flow. Ashk took Ari’s hand and joined the dance—and the flow became more powerful. One by one, the Fae who had kinship to the House of Gaian joined the dance, and power swirled around the meadow like a contained storm.