Shadows and Light (41 page)

“Since the days are longer now, a couple of days of hard riding would get you there.”

A couple more days, Lyrra thought. How much more might happen in the eastern part of Sylvalan in a couple more days? Who else might die?

“What about the Hunter?” Aiden asked. “Have you heard anything that would indicate he’s somewhere in the west?”

Taihg gave them a strange smile. “Bard, if the Hunter wants to meet you, then you’ll meet.” He walked back to stand close to them. “But don’t ask anyone else about the witches or the wiccanfae. And don’t use the glamour to create a human mask. Your true face will be safer here.”

“Safer?” Lyrra said, alarmed.

“Some of those Inquisitors you spoke of came into the west. Warnings have gone out to be watchful of strangers
coming into the west — especially strangers who start asking about witches and wiccanfae.”

“What happened to the Black Coats?” Aiden asked.

“One escaped. Might have gotten out of the west by now. That’s why it could go hard for anyone who makes the Clans or the barons’ guards uneasy. The others …” Taihg shrugged. “They didn’t escape.”

Lyrra shivered, regretting even more her careless remark about witches.

“Go to Bretonwood,” Taihg said. “Talk to Ashk.”

Aiden nodded, held out a hand to Lyrra. She wondered how he knew her legs were shaking enough that she appreciated the help to stand.

“Thank you for your time, Taihg,” Aiden said.

“Bard,” Taihg said. “I know you’re both anxious to be on your way, but there are times when haste makes for a longer journey. Stay the night with us. Give yourself and your horses some rest. Then you’ll be able to start fresh in the morning.”

Impatience shimmered around Aiden, but he nodded. “Since we’re going to be guesting at this Clan tonight, perhaps you’d be willing to let me hear some of your songs.”

“That isn’t why I suggested that you stay,” Taihg protested.

“I know,” Aiden replied. “That’s why I offered.”

Aiden stared out the window of the guest room he and Lyrra had been given for the night. He hadn’t missed the fact that Taihg had shown no surprise when Lyrra had said the witches were the House of Gaian. No surprise at all.

Which confirmed, for him, that the Fae of this Clan, at the very least, weren’t ignorant of who the women who lived in the Old Places were. They’d known a year ago, and had said nothing. Would things have happened differently last summer if he, along with Lucian and
Dianna, had found out sooner who the witches were? Or would the Lightbringer and the Lady of the Moon have denied it, just as they denied it when Morag discovered what was written in the journals left by the women in Ari’s family?

Perhaps it made no difference. Perhaps what happened at Brightwood would have happened anyway.

“At least we know we’re looking in the right place for the Hunter,” Lyrra said, coming up behind him and wrapping her arms around his waist. “That’s something.”

“There’s a lot of land, and a lot of Clans, in the west,” Aiden replied. He turned so that he could wrap his arms around her, giving comfort as well as accepting it. “The longer this takes …”

“I know. But there’s nothing else we can do.” She leaned back enough to look at him. “And we have a direction, a specific place to go and a specific person to ask in order to get some answers.” She frowned. “But I did wonder why Taihg thought this Lady Ashk would help us when he was equally certain no one else would.”

Aiden had wondered the same thing. But he wasn’t going to tell Lyrra that, when he’d taken Taihg aside and asked about it, the reply he’d gotten was, “Ashk doesn’t like the Lightbringer.”

Opposing Lucian had cost him his ties to his own Clan, had thwarted every effort he had made to convince the Fae to help the witches. He appreciated the irony that his break with the Lightbringer could assist him in winning over the Fae whose help he needed the most now.

And he’d had a moment to feel bitterly angry with himself when he realized his demands for information might have cost another man all the things he, himself, had already lost.

“What do you think?” Lyrra asked.

He didn’t want to think about anything for a little while. Brushing his lips against her forehead, he said, “We’ll find out in a couple of days.”

L
iam rode through the arch at a gallop, but reined in quickly. Too many people about the Old Place these days to ride into the midst of them so recklessly. But taking care of the people who were his responsibility had taken time, and the day was making that long, soft slide into twilight. Still plenty of daylight left at this time of year, so close to the Solstice, but it wasn’t bright, burning sunlight.

“Where are the children?” Liam snapped as soon as Clay approached to take his horse. “Where’s Breanna?”

“The children are about here and there, same as they’ve been for the past few days. Breanna and Keely walked to the far pasture. That stallion of yours has been spooked all day, and he’s got all the other horses stirred up. Even I couldn’t get close enough to him to do anything. He likes Keely, so she and Breanna went out to see if they could lead him in.”

A chill went through Liam, swiftly followed by a shimmer of heat beneath his skin. He’d been fighting that heat all afternoon, ever since one of his tenant farmers had come running to the manor house to report a heavy smell of something rotting near a tree the man swore hadn’t been dead a couple of days ago.

“Where’s your far pasture?” Liam asked, fairly sure he already knew. He’d noticed some horses grazing when he and Squire Thurston had ridden out to see what his tenant had found.

Clay jerked a thumb in a northerly direction. “Borders your land. We don’t use it much — at least, we haven’t until now. So if you’re worried about your cows straying across the creek to graze —”

“We found signs of nighthunters a little while ago,” Liam said abruptly. “On my land, but near that pasture. I’m going after Breanna and Keely. You alert the other men. Make sure the children stay close enough to the house that they can get to shelter quickly if they have to.”

“We’ll see to it,” Clay said, looking pale. “A few of us will follow after you to bring in the horses.”

Nodding, Liam urged his gelding forward. He heard Clay shout at someone and saw an adolescent boy dash for the gate that opened into the near pasture, not more than a couple of acres of land that was used for grazing and exercising the horses that were usually here. With all the horses that had come with Breanna’s kin, they’d needed to use the other pastures.

But why that one? Liam asked silently as he galloped toward the gate at the other end of the pasture. And why today? Why hadn’t anyone paid attention to Oakdancer’s uneasiness and brought the horses in sooner? The stallion might have the habit of leaping a fence and going visiting whenever it suited him — which is why, with Nuala’s permission, he’d left Oakdancer at the Old Place since trying to keep him at the estate had been pointless — but he was a fairly easy-tempered animal when approached the right way. Clay should have realized there was a reason for the horse being spooked. He shouldn’t have allowed Keely and Breanna to go out to that pasture.

Liam smiled wryly as he reined in and maneuvered his gelding so that he could open the pasture gate without dismounting. With the informality and the way everyone at the Old Place worked together, it was easy to forget that Clay actually worked for Breanna’s family and wasn’t a male relative who was entitled to strongly voice an opinion about what his female relatives did or didn’t do. Not that those females would pay any attention, but he would have been entitled to voice an opinion. Which, come to think of it, Clay tended to do anyway.

The earth in the next pasture had been turned and now held planted fields, except for the wide green stretch of grass that served as a road between the fields. Winter feed for the animals, Liam noted as his horse galloped over the grass road. It hadn’t been planted that many days ago, but the plants looked as big as the ones in his own fields that his tenants had planted in the spring. Earth magic. A calling to the land to yield what was needed. Were there other witches here now to help Keely draw out that branch of the Mother? Breanna’s kin were wary of him because he was a baron, so he hadn’t asked many questions. But his mother would know.

The gate to the far pasture was open, and he saw horses trotting toward him. He wondered if he should close the gate to keep the animals from getting into the young fields, then dismissed the thought. Better they trample a bit of the field than to have any of them panicking and trying to jump a wall to escape.

He rode past the horses. The land rolled softly, so it wasn’t until his horse took the next low rise that he saw Breanna and Keely. Now that they were in sight, he slowed his horse to a canter.

They’d managed to get a rope attached to Oakdancer’s halter. Keely was leading the stallion, who kept tugging on the lead rope, making Keely run a few steps to keep her balance.

Oakdancer wasn’t trying to run away, but he seemed determined to keep Keely moving in the direction of the manor house. Liam couldn’t make out the words, but he was close enough now to catch the scolding yet cajoling tone of Keely’s voice. She sounded like Brooke, and like his little sister would have done, she concentrated on the horse, not really believing there were dangerous, deadly creatures now hiding somewhere on the land she’d known all her life. She probably thought of them as being deliciously scary, like something out of a story. It might frighten, but it couldn’t harm.

Mentally, Keely was as much of a child as Brooke. But Breanna was not a child, and as he slowed his horse to a trot, he saw the way she walked a few steps behind Keely and Oakdancer, scanning the sky, looking back over her shoulder at the nearest trees.

And he saw her freeze suddenly as she looked at those trees.

Framed by the rich greens of summer was one tree with several large, dead branches that looked like old bones. Had those branches been dead when the men had brought the horses into this pasture?

The wind shifted, now coming from the direction of those trees.

Liam had a moment to wonder if that had been Breanna’s doing before the horses went mad.

Oakdancer reared, pulling Keely off her feet. Liam’s horse suddenly swerved to the left, almost throwing him as it made a tight circle to run back toward the manor house. Liam reined in hard, startling the animal just long enough to give himself a chance to dismount and make a quick knot in the reins to shorten them enough to keep the horse from stepping on them. Then he let the horse go.

As he turned back toward Breanna, he saw a black cloud of small, winged bodies pour out of the trees, flying fast toward the two women.

Breanna whirled around, raced to reach Keely. When she shouted, “Stand!” Oakdancer’s front hooves hit the ground. The stallion was trembling but stood firm.

Keely got to her feet, her lips pushed out in a pout. She started to argue, but Breanna cut the argument short by grabbing Keely’s shoulders and turning her so that she could clearly see what was heading toward them. Then Breanna spun the mental child who was her mother, grabbed one leg, and gave Keely enough of a boost to mount Oakdancer’s bare back.

Breanna glanced back at the trees and slapped Oakdancer’s flank, shouting, “Go!”

Liam’s heart pounded in his chest as he ran toward Breanna. Oakdancer cantered right toward him, ears pricked, dark eyes focused on the man he trusted.

“Go!” Liam said, pointing in the direction of Breanna’s house.

“No!” Keely cried, looking back as if she finally understood what was going to happen. “No! Breanna!” “Go!” Liam shouted.

The stallion stretched into a smooth gallop and quickly disappeared with Keely.

Liam turned back to look at Breanna. For one long moment, the world held its breath, and he saw her standing there, as strong as the land, the nighthunters filling the sky behind her.

He and Breanna couldn’t run fast enough to escape, and they had no weapons. They were going to die in that pasture, and they both knew it.

“You could have mounted the stallion,” Breanna said. “Why didn’t you go when you had the chance?”

“You’re my sister. I won’t let you stand alone.”

Pleasure. Sorrow. Determination. He saw all those things in her face. Then she said, “The villagers need a strong baron who will stand for them against the Inquisitors and the barons they control. My
family
needs a strong baron to stand for them. None of them will have that if you die here. Run, Liam. Run now.”

She turned and moved toward the approaching swarm of nighthunters.

He froze for a moment, unwilling to believe she would stand as bait and sacrifice.

“Breanna, no!”

Heat throbbed under his skin as the distance between Breanna and the nighthunters closed too fast. She was right about the county he ruled needing a strong baron.

He took a step toward her.

She was right.

Took another step.

His heart didn’t care if she was right. She was his
sister
.

She glanced back at him, saw him moving toward her. She lifted her skirt, as if preparing to run.

He would never know for sure if she’d intended to run toward the nighthunters to give him more of a chance to escape or if she’d intended to run back toward him. He would never know because, at that moment before she moved, the hawk screamed.

It dove toward the nighthunters, toward Breanna.

Liam felt a stab of jealousy when he saw that same blend of feelings in her face when she looked up at the hawk as she’d had when she’d looked at him.

No. Not quite the same. There was something more there, something a woman wouldn’t feel for a brother.

“No!” Breanna shouted.

The hawk had almost reached her. So had the nighthunters.

Wind whipped around her, swirling, gusting, coming from no direction and every direction.

Breanna swung her left hand upward, as if she were tossing a ball into the air.

The hawk screamed again, but it sounded more surprised than angry as the wind Breanna summoned caught it and lifted it straight up into the sky, too high for the nighthunters to attack. Too high to help Breanna.