Anne Bishop - The Pillars of the World

It was pointless trying to talk to him yet. He hadn’t changed back to his human form once since those men showed up yesterday, intending to burn down Ari’s cottage.

Perhaps it was better that she couldn’t talk to him. She wasn’t sure she would want to hear what he had to say—not after she’d seen what he’d done to the village of Ridgeley. The Lightbringer had been a vengeful Lord of Fire, and nothing had been spared. If humans had built it, he had burned it—and anyone who hadn’t had the sense to flee.

Of course, the fact that he wouldn’t talk to her right now meant she didn’t have to tell him how many of those he’d allowed to flee had died anyway when they were confronted by the Huntress and her shadow hounds.

And she didn’t have to ask if he knew for certain that Ari hadn’t been in the village, held prisoner, before he burned it down.

So she urged the mare to keep pace with her brother, all the while hoping that what they would find at Brightwood would justify what they had done.

Lucian snorted, pricked his ears, and lengthened his pace.

Dianna let the mare fall behind—until she saw the two horses grazing in the meadow. “A little farther,” she told the mare, urging her on. “Then you can rest.”

The mare tried, but when her pace faltered, Dianna dismounted and ran the rest of the way to the cottage. Ari was back. Ari was safe. And so was the Clan and their home territory in Tir Alainn.

Lucian changed form and strode toward the cottage. He looked at the half-open kitchen door and stopped suddenly, giving Dianna time to catch up to him.

Oh, Lucian, try to act like a joyous lover instead of an angry man. We won and —

Morag opened the other half of the kitchen door and stepped out of the cottage.

Dianna felt as if she were falling off a steep cliff, waiting for the pain of hitting the ground.

“Where is Ari?” Lucian demanded, looking past Morag to see inside the kitchen.

“She’s gone, Lucian,” Morag said quietly.

“Gone?” Dianna echoed. “How could she be gone when she’d been captured by—” She felt the blood drain from her head, making her dizzy.

“The Black Coats,” Morag said, finishing the sentence Dianna had started. “And now she’s gone.”

“Bring her back,” Lucian said, his voice calm and deadly. “The Gatherer can summon a spirit back from the Summerland if it hasn’t been there very long.” The calm broke, turning to fury. “How could you have taken her without consulting us first?”

“Why should I have consulted you?” Morag asked. “It was not your decision to make.”

“Bring her back. She belongs here in Brightwood, with us.”

“Even if I could do that, where would her spirit go? Do you know where her body lies right now? I don’t.”

“Her spirit could reside as a part of Brightwood,” Dianna said.

“To feel the bite of every ax when wood was needed? To feel the cut of the spade when land was turned? Or would you have me bring back her ghost and leave it in the meadow? If her spirit doesn’t reside in flesh, would she be able to do what you want of her?”

“Then we’ll find another body for her to inhabit.”

“Whose?” Morag asked softly. “A spirit doesn’t leave a healthy body.”

“You could gather another person’s spirit and give the body to Ari,” Dianna insisted.

“Whose?” Morag asked again, looking so pointedly at her that Dianna broke into a sweat.

“ You’re the one who took her without our consent. You’re the one who should make it right.”

Morag said nothing, but the coldness that crept into her dark eyes chilled Dianna.

“ Bring her back ,” Lucian said.

“Why?” Morag asked.

“Because she’s needed here. And because I care for her.”

Morag gave him an odd look. “Death can’t be cheated, but, sometimes, a bargain can be struck. Are you willing to bargain with me?”

“I’m in no mood for games, Gatherer,” Lucian warned.

“And I do not play games, Lightbringer. But, here and now, I will make a bargain.” Morag held out her hand. “Your life for Ari’s. If you go to the Summerland now, I’ll find a way to bring her back to Brightwood.”

“Fine,” Lucian snapped. “Bring her back, and I’ll consider it.”

Morag lowered her hand and shook her head. “That’s not the bargain.”

Shocked speechless for a moment, Dianna regained her voice—and her fury. “He’s the Lightbringer . How dare you demand such a thing from him!”

“That is the bargain,” Morag said implacably. “Lucian’s life in exchange for Ari’s. Either agree to it or accept that she’s gone and prepare to bring your Clan down to Brightwood to live.”

“No man would agree to a bargain like that when you’re standing there ready to accept it,” Dianna said bitterly.

“That would depend on how much the man cared.”

A thought occurred to Dianna. “Then why don’t you take that Neall in exchange for Ari? Surely, he’s a worthy enough sacrifice.”

“He is already gone.”

Dianna wanted to scream in frustration. Why couldn’t the man have lived a little longer so that his death could at least be useful?

Morag looked at Lucian. She held out her hand. “You were willing to destroy others for her sake. Are you willing to give yourself for her as well?”

The conflict showed clearly on his face, and Dianna felt it as keenly as if she were the one forced to make the choice. When he started to raise his hand, she wanted to cry out, wanted to tell him to stop. But she bit her tongue and kept silent.

His hand slowly rose toward Morag’s. It began to shake. Before his fingers touched hers, his hand froze, then fell back to his side. He looked away.

“Ari is gone, Lucian,” Morag said gently. “Accept it.”

Bitterness swelled in Dianna until there was nothing else. “In that case, since we have no choice but to live here, Brightwood now belongs to the Clan. And you are no longer welcome on our land. Nor will you ever be. And by the time I finish telling the rest of the Clans about how you betrayed the Fae, no Clan will be willing to receive you—including your own. Tir Alainn will be as closed to you as it is to us.”

Morag just turned and walked into the cottage.

Dianna stared at the open kitchen door. A few minutes later, Morphia came out and saddled the horses. As soon as she was done, Morag left the cottage. She tied her saddlebags to her dark horse, mounted, and she and Morphia rode away.

A sob rose in Dianna’s throat. She turned away from the cottage that would soon become her home.

And saw Lucian disappear into the woods, heading for the place where the shining road anchored itself in the strength of Brightwood.

For a moment, she was stunned. How could he just leave her here alone?

Then she shook her head. Someone had to tell the Clan what had happened and rouse them to prepare to leave Tir Alainn. She just hoped they would have enough time before the road through the Veil began to close.

Morag filled another sack with grain. At least the horses would have some feed besides the grazing, and there was no reason to let it rot.

The house and the stables had been empty when she and Morphia returned to Ahern’s farm. The housekeeper’s little cottage also stood abandoned. No one here would begrudge her taking what was needed simply because she had done what needed to be done.

Banish her from Tir Alainn? Have her own Clan shun her? The Huntress had enough influence among the Fae to do exactly that. She had expected something like that from Dianna—and Dianna’s solution for getting Ari back, while unexpected , hadn’t been surprising. There were stories about such exchanges, and she knew the power to exchange spirits between two bodies resided within her, just as she had the power to gather someone’s life strength and give it to another. That Dianna wanted her to relinquish her body so that Ari’s spirit could inhabit it wasn’t surprising either. Astra had been right: the Fae were very good at expecting someone else to shoulder the burden for them.