by Anne Bishop
“It was my pleasure, Lady Selena.” He took the saddlebags from her and smiled. “I’ll see you to your horse. It’s the least a friend can do.”
Chapter 55
waning moon
After glancing at Lyrra, who nodded, Aiden reined in.
“Ashk?”
She turned the dark horse and walked it back to them.
He understood her keeping the dark horse. She’d lost her horse, he’d lost his rider, and since there were two other dark horses at Bretonwood, he’d also be among his own kind.
But he didn’t understand about the puppy.
When they’d stopped at that inn on their way back through the Mother’s Hills, it had broken his heart when the innkeeper asked about Morag, explaining that he was keeping a bitch puppy for her—a shadow hound mix. Lyrra had burst into tears. Ashk had simply walked away. But the next morning, when they were getting ready to leave, she came out of the inn wearing an odd kind of sling with the puppy tucked inside.
She wouldn’t talk about it, had actually said very little during the journey back to the west.
“What is it, Aiden?”
He didn’t want to voice his thoughts. Everyone else had already parted from them. The Fae who lived closest to the western bay were escorting Mihail’s wife and daughter to a harbor town where a ship would take them to Sealand. The Fae from other Clans had split off, taking other routes to return home. The handful of huntsmen from Bretonwood were the only ones left except for him and Lyrra. But this was the place—and it was time.
“This is where we part ways,” he said gently.
“You’re welcome to stay with the Bretonwood Clan.”
“We know. But we’ve been talking, doing a lot of thinking. We don’t really want to live with the Clans anymore. We’ve lived in the same world and remained strangers—the Fae, humans, and witches. Since Lyrra and I have more experience living outside the Clans…Well, there’s a place we’d like to go if they’ll accept us.”
Ashk looked puzzled. Then she studied the unmarked road that forked off the main road—and smiled for the first time in days. “Oh, I think they’ll welcome the Muse and the Bard and his dancing horse. You’ll let me hear from you when you’re settled in.”
“And we’ll come to Bretonwood for a visit before the Winter Solstice.” Because the thought had been weighing on him more heavily the closer they got to this spot, he finally said what he’d wanted to say since they left Willowsbrook. “She only wanted to go home.”
Ashk looked away. “She couldn’t. She dreamed of it, Aiden. That’s what haunted her. She dreamed of an enemy she couldn’t find fast enough, couldn’t stop. But she saw what it did. She saw it kill the people she loved. That’s why she asked for the promise. If she couldn’t stop it, I had to.” Her eyes filled with tears. “But she will come home.”
“You think she’ll come back to one of the western Clans this time? Maybe even Bretonwood?”
“No, I don’t think she’ll come back to the Clans. I think, not too many years from now, Ari will look into her baby daughter’s eyes and recognize the spirit looking back at her. And when that day comes, Morag will be home.” Turning the dark horse, she added, “Blessings of the day to you,” and rode away.
He stared after her.
“The dark horse,” Lyrra whispered. “The puppy.”
Aiden nodded. “From the moment she decided to take the dark horse, she’s been preparing for that day, whenever it will come.” He wiped the tears from his eyes and took a deep breath to steady himself. “Come along, wife. Let’s see if we can find our own place in the world.”
Backtracking a few steps, they headed down the unmarked road.
Wiccandale was still the prettiest village Aiden had ever seen. The first time they’d ridden down this main street, he and Lyrra had been traveling to Bretonwood, still searching for the Hunter, and the people’s wariness of strangers had provided a cold welcome—until Minstrel changed the tune. This time, when they rode to the tavern, men nudged each other and smiled. Women pointed at Minstrel and whispered something to their children that made the children laugh.
“So you’ve come back,” the tavern owner said, coming out to stand in his doorway. “And in good time as well. Come along, then. I’ll show you the cottage and you can decide if it suits you.” He turned his head and shouted, “Kellie! The Bard, the Muse, and the dancing horse have come. I’ll be showing them old Nara’s cottage.”
“Tell them to come back for supper!” a woman shouted in reply. “They’ll not be wanting to cook their own supper their first night.”
“Done and done. I’m Gavin, by the way. Come along. It isn’t far.” He set off at a brisk walk.
Bewildered, Aiden and Lyrra urged the horses to follow him.
He was right. The cottage wasn’t far, but it was set off by itself.
“It was the women in Nara’s family who first walked the boundaries of Wiccandale and gave the wiccanfae a place to call their own that wasn’t quite Clan, wasn’t quite a human village but a bit of both, do you see? And so it’s been with us. There’s more witches among us than in times past, but there’s still plenty of us who are wiccanfae.”
“I’m wiccanfae,” Lyrra murmured.
“Are you, now? Well, then.”
The cottage was lovely, warm and welcoming, but Gavin didn’t give them time to linger before herding them back outside.
“That bit of a barn there has plenty of room for a couple of horses, a ponycart, tack and feed,” Gavin said, pointing. “On that side of the stone fence is common pasture, but this here is part of the land in Nara’s keeping. Those fruit trees and berry bushes, too, along with the hayfield. Now. Over the past few years, Nara had a bargain with a few of us about the hayfield. We’d tend it and harvest it. She received enough hay to see her animals through the seasons and we split the rest between us. Worked well for everyone. If you’re agreeable, we’ll keep doing the same. Since I’ve got the tavern and have use for them, Nara gave me and Kellie her cow and chickens, with the understanding that whoever took the cottage would get the milk and eggs they needed.” When he finally paused, Aiden just nodded, not sure what else to do. Cows? Chickens? Hayfields?
“What happened to Nara?” Lyrra asked.
“She packed up. Said she was needed in the world, what with all the troubles going on in the east. Now that it’s settled, she said witches were needed to touch the land again, wake up the magic in the Old Places. A few of the youngsters went with her, those of an age to have restless feet and a desire to see what’s beyond the home fields. So she said I was to find someone to care for the place while she was gone. She’s got nieces and nephews—I should know, I’m one of them—but we’ve all got our own places and we’re happy where we are.”
“Why us?” Aiden asked.
Gavin gave him a long look. “Well, I’ll tell you, Bard. The day Nara packed up her ponycart, she took me aside and told me she’d had a dream the night before about the right people for this land. She told me she dreamed she walked her land just like she always did, but she heard music in the air around the fruit trees and stories bloomed among her flowers. When I heard you were coming into the village, it just seemed…It was like she knew you were coming. So, what do you think, Bard?”
His head was spinning, and he wasn’t sure what he thought. But now that Gavin had finally stopped talking, he realized the man was fidgety, nervous—and he understood why. Gavin wanted them to stay. Whether it was because of Nara’s dream or for some other reason, he and Lyrra were wanted here, welcome here.
He looked around again at the cottage, at the small barn that would be a snug shelter for the horses, at the flower and vegetable gardens. He could see himself sitting under the fruit trees with his harp, working on a song. He could picture Lyrra sitting on that bench near the flowers, working on a story or just sitting peacefully and letting her gift flow into the world. He could see them in the tavern on winter evenings, entertaining friends and neighb
ors. He could see it—and the picture warmed his heart.
“So, what do you think?” Gavin asked again.
Feeling Lyrra’s hand slip into his, Aiden smiled. “I think we’ve come home.”
