To Ride A Púca (15 page)

“Yes we do,” she said in a tone colder than she had meant to use.

Shoulders hunching, Cecily nodded and looked down as she turned back to the cart. Guilt flashed through Neala and it made her angry. After the way her parents had lied to her they didn’t deserve to make her feel that way. Still, her ma was going into a dangerous situation. There was a chance she may not come back.

“Be careful,” Neala blurted out.

Cecily turned back for a moment and gave her a look of soft vulnerability. The trace of a smile touched her lips and combined with the tears in her eyes it was enough to make Neala regret being so harsh. She dashed up and hugged her ma from behind, breathing deep of her orchid-scented hair like she’d done when she was a child.

“Ye too,” she said before leaving.

Neala’s da untied Dubh from the back of the cart and led him over. It was hard to tell who’s eyes were wilder, the stallion’s or her da’s. Neala had never seen her da look so disheveled. All traces of the carefree man who had raised her had been wiped from his face. He looked only steps away from panic. His eyes flicked across Irial and he sagged, looking defeated.

“Ye know,” he said.

A chill went through Neala, straightening her spine. She wanted so badly to confront her parents about the lies they had raised her to believe. Could she really do so in the chaos and noise of the dissolving festival, though?

“
Tá
, I do,” she said in an acidic tone. Ardal flinched and his eyes closed for a long moment.

Irial’s fingers tightened around Neala’s arm, sending tendrils of cool, soothing energy into her. Her anger faded, which was monumental considering that once her temper flared she rarely got it back under control without blowing up. But Irial had made it feel easy, like shutting off the hand pump to a well.

“We’ll talk when we get home,” Ardal said as he handed her Dubh’s reins.

More soothing energy poured into her. It wrapped around from both sides, covering her like a shield that wouldn’t let anything out or in. It felt like Irial had drawn the anger from her. Was that possible?

“Of course da. Watch after yerself and ma. I mean it,” she said, narrowing her eyes at him as she said the last.

It wouldn’t surprise her if they got so caught up in healing people that they put themselves in danger. They were so passionate about helping others that they had a tendency to lose themselves in their work. It was why most of the village suspected they were druids. Any time warriors returned from battle they got that way. Neala suspected it had to do with her brother’s death.

“I will,” he promised. His eyes were filled with regret.

In the absence of her anger Neala realized she was worried about her parents, a lot. They weren’t warriors. She couldn’t lose them, not after Lorcan.

“Maybe I should go with ye,” she said.

“No,” Ardal and Irial said in unison. They exchanged a look and Ardal nodded at Irial.

“We’ll be careful. There will be warriors beside us,” he told Neala.

With a shaking hand he reached out and cupped her face. Before she could respond he spun and jogged back to the cart. He climbed aboard, took up the reins, and slapped them across the horses’ rumps, propelling them into a trot. A massive weight settled on Neala’s chest as she watched the cart pull away into the darkness. She couldn’t help but remember the time her brother rode off to battle and how he had never come back.

14

The two of them ran, parting the crowd by projecting their energy out like a battering ram that shoved everyone aside. People were too distracted to take much notice of the strange young women who pushed them without a touch. Having Dubh high-stepping alongside them didn’t hurt either. In this manner it took no time at all to get through the chaos and reach the little clearing beyond the forest. The lads, Ciara, and Kyla were still waiting, pacing and deep in a heated discussion.

Before they cleared the trees Bren’s eyes shot to her, filling with relief. He dashed to her side and surprised her by pulling her into a tight embrace. Dubh tossed his head in irritation but didn’t make a move toward Bren.

“I was so afraid yer parents wouldn’t let ye out of their sight,” he said against her hair.

Blinking back tears, Neala pulled away and shook her head. “They’re going to help those fleeing Uí Faelain. They didn’t want me with them.”

Bren touched her face. “Good, because I want ye with me,” he whispered.

The words resonated all the way to the core of her power, stirring it. He wanted her with him. She had dreamt of it, but she had never imagined it could be true. Remembering his roving hands, part of her couldn’t help but wonder why. The vulnerable look in his eyes made her think she wasn’t being fair and broke through the shield she had built around her heart.

“I want to be with ye too,” she said, wanting to mean it.

He leaned forward until his forehead rested against hers. His breath smelled like sweet wine, making her wonder what his lips would taste like.

“Shouldn’t we do somethin’?” Ciara’s shrill voice sliced through the moment.

“We do need to see how bad it is,” Liam’s voice rang through the night like a bell.

Neala and Bren pulled back at the same time. A chill passed through Neala when she realized what Liam had said. Checking the village out was exactly what she wanted to do, but her parents would have a fit if they knew.

“Sounds dangerous. I’m in,” Cian said.

Shaking her head, Kyla smacked him in the arm. “I suppose I have to go to watch yer arse,” she grumbled.

A crooked smile pulled up one corner of his lips and he winked at her. “Ye enjoy the view and ye know it.”

Despite the situation Neala had to fight the urge to laugh. Or maybe it was because of the situation. She couldn’t deny that she wanted to be in the thick of things, defending her people and her land. The thought of going there made her blood pump and was making her kind of giddy.

“All right. But we observe only and keep our distance for now,” Irial said as she gave Liam a hard look.

He nodded and took her hand as he said, “for now.”

Neala felt Bren’s gaze upon her. From the feel of his power she could tell he was worried. It was strange, like she could feel his emotions through his power. She hadn’t experienced anything like it before. The firelight revealed concern in the depths of his eyes. She smiled and let the joy of finally belonging fill her face.

“I want to go,” she told him. The pull to be with not only him, but even more so, the Order, was so intense she didn’t want to fight it.

His brow furrowed deep and he chewed on his bottom lip. “Only to look, right?” he asked Liam.

“For now,” Liam said.

Bren nodded and put an arm around Neala. “Then we’re in,” he said.

“Excellent. Let’s get our horses,” Liam said.

They went back into the chaos of the disintegrating festivities. Mounted on Dubh, Neala and Bren led the way, clearing a path with ease. The air of celebration had turned to one of fear and near panic.

The horses were in the network of corrals for livestock. The animals that remained were pacing, pawing, and bellowing.

Soon they were all mounted and riding into the forest. Liam and Irial led them with the assured air of those who were used to riding under the cover of darkness. There wasn’t a bad rider among them which made for quick, easy travel. In no time at all they passed from the woods Neala knew and into O’Donovan territory. They rode for over a candlemark, alternating between cantering and trotting. At the edge of the forest that marked the end of the O’Donovan clan’s territory they stopped. The forest gave way to rolling hills through which the road to Dublin wound. All Neala could see were moonlit fields of grass and the dark hills in the distance.

“We have to get closer,” Liam said in a hushed tone. “We’ll ride to the Wicklow Mountains. We should be able to see from there.”

Pacing themselves so their horses didn’t get worn out, they made their way to the mountains. The cloud-choked sky made it chilly but provided a thick darkness that was well worth it. Neala had to use her ability to see the energy in living things to help guide her. It made the landscape a bright layout of plants that glowed in various colors.

It took less than a candlemark to ride to the hills that overlooked the village. Before they reached the tree-line Neala realized the energy of the place was all wrong. It was filled with holes that looked like dead spots. Such a thing wasn’t possible with as much as it rained here. Trees choked these hills, Neala knew, she had seen it many times on their way to Dublin.

“No, it can’t be,” Kyla murmured.

“Shh!” Irial whispered to her.

Dubh stopped, snorted, and shook his head as if he didn’t want to continue forward. Even when the other horses went on without him he didn’t move. His reaction, combined with the odd look of the forest, gave Neala a chill she couldn’t shake. She didn’t blame him. She didn’t want to go in there either.

“What’s wrong with him?” Bren whispered against her ear.

Not even his nearness could shake her feeling of unease.

“Something is wrong with the forest. Look with yer druid eyes,” she whispered back.

He went very still and tension sang through his power. “Ye’re right,” he whispered.

The others started to disappear into the trees, leaving Neala feeling even more anxious. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to be out here alone so much as she didn’t want them in there without her. A few soothing words and pats on the neck finally got Dubh to step into the forest after them.

The sweet scent of freshly cut pine and oak was so thick upon the air it almost made Neala gag. The holes she had seen in the energy of the forest were indeed dead spots, they were missing trees. Stumps poked up everywhere amidst branches that had been hacked off and discarded. Great scars cut across the forest floor where massive trees had been dragged away. The energy of the forest was weak. Neala felt its pain like a wound upon her heart that left it gaping and bleeding.

The further in they went, the worse it became. There were spots where so many trees had been cut down that Neala could see the dark sky overhead. Many of the slaughtered trees left behind stumps so big that Dubh could have stepped up onto them with all fours. The trees had been hundreds of years old.

A sorrow so heavy she feared it would never lift settled over Neala. The urge to collapse was almost overwhelming. All that kept her on Dubh’s back was Bren’s strong arms.

“How could anyone do this?” Kyla whispered.

“They took far more trees than even an entire village would need to build their homes,” Cian said.

Kyla and Cian were both slumped together on the same horse, looking as if it was all they could do to stay on its back. Irial held a finger to her lips and no one said another word. The only sound that broke the deathly still night was a quiet sob now and then.

Liam urged his horse into a walk and beckoned for them to follow. Tears blurred Neala’s vision and left hot tracks down her cheeks, forcing her to trust Dubh to lead the way.

Just when she thought the horror couldn’t get any worse, they came across the first body. A man lay face down on the forest floor with an arrow jutting out of his back. The darkness made it hard to see much, but it was enough to send a chill through Neala. It smelled so much worse than she had imagined was possible. The scent of decay she had expected. What made her gag was the sweet smell mixed with the putrid one. It was not a pleasant combination. She turned her head away and covered her mouth.

The further they rode, the more bodies they encountered. It quickly became obvious that people had been slain while trying to flee into the forest. From the looks of it there weren’t many that had gotten away. Neala lost count of all the bodies. Most had been taken down by arrows, but a few at the edge of the forest had been killed with swords and battle axes.

At Liam’s signal they stopped under the cover of the last trees at the edge of the forest. Smoke marred the sky in a filthy smear and obscured much of the village below. What Neala could see made her wish the smoke was worse. Buildings and homes lay crumbled and smoking upon the ground. She didn’t want to see more, but she had to. Her hands shook so bad it took several tries to dig the druid’s spyglass out of her pouch. Bodies lay everywhere, rigid in their last throws of life. There were so many of them it was hard to imagine anyone surviving. She lowered the glass as tears blurred her vision.

As one, Liam and Irial turned their horses and started back into the forest. Neala and the others followed without a word. The farther into the forest they rode the worse Neala felt. She wanted to run so badly that it was all she could do to hold herself back from releasing Dubh into a gallop. Fear had her shoulders bound so tightly they hurt. Without Bren behind her, holding her tight, she was sure she would have fled a long time ago. She wanted to be brave and definitely wanted to fight, but this was too much. It wasn’t the sight of the battleground or even the dead bodies that threatened to push her over the edge, it was the trees.

Danes had been coming to the island and killing her people for generations but as far as she knew this was the first time they had desecrated the land. This made them more unpredictable than ever and made Neala wonder about their motives. Was it possible they knew druids were connected to the land and were trying to use it against them? Most people believed the druids had been wiped out, a myth they supported to protect themselves. Did this mean the Danes knew they weren’t?

They cleared the forest and sped up to a trot. Dubh was a bundle of nerves beneath her and was high-stepping like one of the fancy horses the wealthy people paraded around on. She didn’t blame him. Her own eyes kept going to the distant hills and her heart was filled with a longing to be in them. But she wasn’t about to disrespect Liam and Irial by outpacing them.

At the top of the next hill they sped up to a canter, but it still wasn’t enough for her. Dubh wanted to run like a wild thing. It wasn’t easy holding him back. Irial dropped back alongside her. A soothing feeling poured over Neala, taking some of the urgency with it and she felt it extend out to Dubh as well. The stallion’s bunched-up muscles relaxed and his gait smoothed and slowed.