Anne Bishop - The Pillars of the World

“Why?”

“That should be obvious,” Dianna said coolly.

“You’ve a mind to go into Ridgeley?”

Despite the fact that the surrounding land was where she rode the most often when she brought the Wild Hunt to the human world, it still took her a moment to remember that Ridgeley was the name of the nearby village. “No, just a ride through the countryside.”

“Where?”

“What difference does it make?”

He studied her too long, and there was a violence in the back of his eyes that threatened to turn ugly at any moment.

“Take care where you ride, Huntress,” he said quietly. “Take care what you do here. If you bring harm to those at Brightwood, the only time you’ll feel four legs under you again is when you change to your other form.”

Dianna’s mouth fell open. “Are you threatening me? Me ?”

“You can take it any way you like,” Ahern replied, turning away from her, “as long as you don’t forget it. Come along. I’ve a horse you can use.”

A few minutes later, Dianna trotted away from Ahern’s farm, relieved to be gone. The bay mare she now rode had a blaze and white socks, but nothing that would make it stand out.

Not a Fae horse, Dianna thought, wincing a little at the loud clopping of hooves on the road. Not even one of the horses Ahern bred from both Fae and human animals. But still a fine animal . . . by human standards.

With Ahern’s warning still ringing in her ears, she slowed the mare to a walk when she came within sight of the cottage. From that distance, it seemed . . . pleasant. Sturdy. Except for the broken kitchen door, she hadn’t paid much attention to the cottage the other night . . . or any other night when she and her hounds had skirted the meadow on their way to the surrounding countryside. Now she studied the building, trying to determine what was here that Fae males found so attractive.

Was it simply that the cottage was built in one of the Old Places and the Mother’s power swelled around it so ripe and rich that it enticed Fae men like pollen enticed bees? Or was it the female herself who was so intriguing? If it was the female, what was it about her that could make the Lord of the Horse protective and territorial . . . and infatuate the Lightbringer?

Beside the cottage was a large plot of land surrounded by a waist-high stone wall. The female working there was too involved in her task to hear the horse’s hooves. Or, perhaps, she paid no attention to travelers. And since the female hadn’t noticed her, Dianna faced her first stumbling block. Would a gentry lady speak to a servant?

Of course she would, Dianna decided, if only to be presented to the cottage’s owner.

“Good day to you,” Dianna called as she guided the mare close to the wall.

The female’s head whipped around. The expression in her eyes, before it turned to just wariness, reminded Dianna of prey scenting a hunter.

Was it possible the female realized she had been addressed by one of the Fae? Dianna wondered.

The female turned away and fumbled with the laces of her tunic before getting to her feet. She brushed her hands on her thighs, with no regard to the dirt she was leaving on the cloth, before approaching the wall.

Dianna breathed out slowly. No, she decided. The creature was simply trying to make herself presentable, and whatever made her wary of visitors had nothing to do with the Fae. Besides, I sense no magic here except what flows from the Mother .

“Blessings of the day to you, Mistress.”

“Kindly tell your mistress that I am here.” There. That was surely more courtesy than a servant would usually receive.

The female frowned, looking puzzled. “There’s no one else here, Mistress.”

Dianna clenched her teeth, then forced herself to smile. She hadn’t gone to this effort just to be thwarted. “Then I’ll wait for her.”

The female’s puzzlement deepened. “I didn’t mean she was away, Mistress. I meant there’s no one else here. This is my cottage.”

Dianna stared. Lucian had spurned the invitations of every Fae Lady over the past few months only to bed this grubby creature?

“I’m Ari,” the female said with a dignity still touched by wariness. “Is there something I can do for you, Mistress?”

What to say now? Dianna looked up at the sky, and let a sigh turn into a smile. So that’s what Lucian had been up to.

“Mistress?”

Dianna pointed at the puffy clouds that were taking on the shapes of sheep being chased by a dragon. “It would appear that someone is feeling whimsical.” She slanted a glance at Ari to see what her reaction would be to Lucian’s gift. She was more than startled when Ari turned deathly pale and sagged against the wall.

“No,” Ari said. “Oh, no .”

“Whatever is the matter?” Dianna asked sharply. When she got no answer, she scrambled out of the sidesaddle and slid off the mare’s back.

“I didn’t know,” Ari whispered, staring at the clouds. “I thought it was a game or a dream. I didn’t know.”

“Know what?” Dianna said, reaching across the wall to grab Ari’s arms. What was wrong with the girl? Dianna looked at the sky again. The clouds were already losing their shape. In a few more seconds, there would be nothing to see. “What’s wrong with a bit of whimsy?”

“Nothing,” Ari said, sounding miserable.

“Hardly nothing,” Dianna snapped.

“It’s payment,” Ari snapped back. Temper and pride flashed in her eyes for a moment before she sagged again. “I didn’t ask for payment. I didn’t want payment. I thought it was just a game. I never thought he really would—” She looked at the sky, then grabbed Dianna’s arms, smearing dirt on the sleeves. “Does the sun feel like this elsewhere?”

Where is elsewhere? Dianna wondered. But now that she considered it . . . “It does seem a bit softer here, not quite as hot.”

Ari moaned softly. Dianna, losing all patience, shook her. “Stop sounding so pathetic.”

“You don’t understand!”

“Then we’ll go inside and sit, and you’ll explain.”

“I can’t.”

“You will.” Dianna all but dragged Ari over the wall. Taking the reins, she led girl and horse toward the front door.

“It’s locked. We have to go to the kitchen door.”

Around the cottage, stopping just long enough to tie the mare to a post near the cow shed, then into the kitchen, with the girl mumbling, “Come in and be welcome,” as they crossed the threshold, and on through to the main room.

“Sit,” Dianna ordered, pushing Ari into a chair. Returning to the kitchen, she looked around, frowning. Wine would be good; water would be better than nothing. She didn’t see either. “Where do you keep your water?” she called out.

“The pump,” was the muttered reply.

Pump. Mother’s Mercy, she was the Lady of the Moon. What did she know about pumps . . . whatever they were? Even in Tir Alainn, she never made an effort when it came to food or drink. That was for others to do.

She turned toward the shuffling footsteps. Ari appeared in the kitchen doorway. Dianna didn’t appreciate the sympathetic humor she saw in Ari’s eyes, but it was better than dealing with a shriveling, sniveling female.

“Pump,” Ari said, stepping up beside Dianna. She grasped the handle of an odd-looking metal object, then moved it up and down a couple of times. Water gushed out. Ari took one of the mugs sitting beside the pump, filled it with water, and handed it to Dianna. She filled another, then made an effort to smile. “You probably don’t see much of your kitchen.”

“No, I don’t.”

The smile faded. Ari shuffled back to the main room. She sat down in a rocking chair in front of a cold hearth. Dianna took the other chair.