by Scott, Amber
The wind breathed on her cheeks and fingered her tightly bound hair. Ailyn leaned down, moving as one with the horse, drinking in the feel of the speed. Gallop by gallop, she escaped the dark feeling in the wood. Closer and closer, she gained safe ground. The edges of trees gave way to rock and dirt, moss and grass. She pulled the reins in, slowing the mare.
Alive is what she felt for one brief moment. Gloriously alive. Free. Capable and safe.
The mare slowed to a trot, then a walk. Ailyn veered her head around so that she could watch Danny catch up.
She released a soft laugh, giving the mare a good pat on her neck. “Good girl! Have they named you yet?” She’d have to ask Danny. She would love to name the beast. Fast, she was. And lithe. A real beauty. Where was Danny? Surely she’d not gotten that far ahead. He should be coming through at the bend by now.
Her good cheer eased back. Worry replaced it. She should double back to make sure he was well. The thought of nearing that wood again, though, gave her a pit of dread she couldn’t dismiss. Was it those woods that she’d emerged into? It would explain much, considering all that transpired there but two nights past.
The events felt so much farther past than a mere two days. Rest, a bath, Breanne’s clearly well intended help put matters into enough perspective, she supposed, that she’d gained a sense of acceptance about her current lot. In truth, her feelings of helplessness had vanished. She was not powerless to her circumstances. There were actions she could take. Solutions she could participate in. She could locate the stones.
She nudged her mare forward, her worry for Danny growing. She strained to hear signs of his approach. Naught but the wind. Not even a sparrow’s call met her ears. “Danny?” she called through both hands cupped at her mouth.
Movement at the tree line caught her eyes, startling her. The outline of a man on horseback could be seen through the trees. She breathed out. Perhaps he had felt it, too and was scouting the area. “Danny!” she called again, waving her arms to show him where she was.
The horse wove through the trees toward her. A thought struck her. What if it was not Danny atop the horse at all? Could it be Quinlan? But what would he be doing here? Oh, it mattered little. She was too hopeful by half to question what brought him here. Certainly Breanne would have sent him.
She clucked the mare forward, waving an arm in the air again so that he might spot her. She peered down the trail before leaving it, but not seeing Danny, could guess that Quinlan would know where the younger man had gone. She trotted her mount to just outside the edge of the wood, fighting back a wide grin.
The horse broke through the trees, and disappointment spiraled down Ailyn’s stomach. Not Quinlan. “Danny.” She cleared her throat. “There you are. I was worried when you didna follow.”
“Aye,” he said. “I’m sure we’re safe as babes, but I prefer you dinna go off on your own like that again, Ailyn. You’ve no call to trust me yet, but considering our foe and task at hand, at the least, stay close.”
Warmth spread up her cheeks. He was right. “I apologize.”
“No need. As I said, I’m sure we’re safe. Let us take more caution regardless.”
Ailyn nodded. Too many conversations with her brother swam to the fore. No matter how much she preferred to take the lead and not need another’s aid, Danny and Colm were right. Two swords fought better than one. A man at her back kept her back protected.
She kept to Danny’s pace the remainder of the day and used the quiet to mull over what Breanne had shared. The way the woman had lighted a row of tallows, the large leather-bound book filled with drawings and writing. The old tongue of her grandmother on some pages, the new one of both their worlds on others. She found it remarkable how parallel a course their worlds had run.
Breanne confirmed fears like humankind hunting faeries. She verified that few mortals could draw on the source, unable to sense the magick in this world. She shared difficult facts such as aging and death in this mortal world. She called Ailyn’s home Otherworld and defined how few years humans could live compared to Fae, who rarely died, particularly those of noble birth.
Her heart ached anew for Tullah. Losing their queen would devastate all four tribes. The already lingering fears that the Fae would perish as a race would certainly rise stronger than ever among all. If the queen could die, born of the purest line, why not any brown- or white-blooded faerie, too?
Breanne was a wealth of information, aye. She took her role in her visions quite seriously, too, and at one point had taken Ailyn’s hand in hers, tracing the lines on her palm and vowing, “Our paths are twined. Yours and mine. You will not face this alone.”
Ailyn believed her, too, because Breanne knew things no one else could know. Things not even Colm knew. Breanne knew of her mother’s last words. She knew the story behind the pendant at her neck and her vow to never take it off, not even to save a life, so precious it was.
“We can make camp here,” Danny said, drawing up next to her. His gaze searched hers. “When you’re ready, I have more to show you.”
Much like the moment in Breanne’s home, Ailyn saw a glimpse of Danny’s maturity emerging. He suddenly seemed much older than his years. The evening stole the day’s light by degrees as they dismounted in a meadow some distance from the main road, a smattering of trees offering cover. Ailyn contemplated what Danny had said. Was she ready to digest more? Did she have much choice?
Colm and Maera were safe, Breanne had sworn, but for how long, none could say. Breanne only knew that getting the stones was critical. A matter of life and death. Her brother and her liege’s. Her own. Danny lit the fire, tended the horses and offered Ailyn a chunk of cheese and bread.
“I would offer you ale,” he said. “But it would likely upset your constitution.”
Ailyn considered asking what ale was, why it would not agree with her, then decided it mattered not—a sure sign that she was completely exhausted. She chewed on a bite of the soft, smoky flavored cheese, contemplating matters at hand. “This Giant’s Causeway, how close are we?”
“Another day’s ride, at least.”
The sun had set and the only remaining light was the fire which Danny stirred in between bites. He handed her a chunk of the meat. Ailyn took it, eyeing the wrinkled stuff with some doubt.
“Venison,” Danny said, gesturing for her to try it.
Taking a small bite, Ailyn testing the feel and flavor on her tongue. Her taste buds pinched to life. An interesting flavor, it was. Salty but sweet, too. The meat softened as she chewed and her stomach growled for more. She was feeling settled for the first time in days. Perhaps weeks.
“Once we unearth the bloodstone, it then becomes a matter of finding its sister stone,” she said, needing to feel she had a clear grasp of their strategy. They did not know the location of the second stone. Only a guess based on Breanne’s dreams.
Danny stopped chewing. His eyebrows jutted together. He peered past the fire. Ailyn followed his gaze, her hand automatically going to her dagger. “What is it?” she whispered, recalling that earlier sensation of being watched.
Aye, there it was again, that feeling of eyes being on her. She stood, drawing her dagger. Danny stood, too, blade in hand. “Stay here,” he said in a low voice.
She forced herself to do as told. Disobeying her brother’s orders had gotten her in this debacle. Of course, if Breanne’s presages held truth, she was meant to be here and thereby her disobedience had been the right decision. Ah, but that logic did wonders for her urge to follow him. She moved softly, taking the left flank as Danny approached the right of the copse of trees and foliage. Part of her suspected she out-skilled the young man, probably out-experienced him, too, by at least a few years. She’d not be left by the fire like a helpless child.
Ailyn peered into the shadows. The fire’s light danced against the low limbs and trunks. The night’s silence grew more pronounced as her heart beat harder in her chest, louder in her ears. Unbidden, the memory of Kristoph push
ing up against her came to the fore. The more she recalled Breanne’s words, the more certain she felt it was he who wanted the stones.
He was Tullah’s most trusted advisor. Yet, Ailyn knew his true nature. She should have told someone. But who would believe her? Colm would. But the shame of it had been too much to share all those years ago. Far easier to simply avoid the man and train with all her will. He’d not be able to overpower her again. Not without a fight.
Would tonight bring that fight?
“Ailyn,” Danny hissed. “I said stay put.”
She shook her head, pointing at the copse then cupping her ear. He shook his head as well, looking about as exasperated as Colm ever had with her. Aye, well, he’d need to be getting used to her ways if they’d be traveling companions these coming weeks. She arched her eyebrows as if to say, ‘will you be listening or arguing?’
After long seconds, Danny narrowed his eyes but looked back to the trees. They were not so dense as to miss a moving body within them, but Kristoph was rumored to be a powerful sorcerer. Some claimed that Tullah had no magick left in her blood, that she relied on her advisors to create the illusion of thriving royal magick.
Ailyn refused to believe such ugly whispers, but knew firsthand how stealthy he could be. In a flash, there, in her face, strangling her throat, groping her body. In another flash, gone. Ailyn stepped around a thick trunk, crouching low, listening.
This time when a hand wrapped around her mouth from behind, she had no doubts whatsoever whom it belonged to. She grinned against the wide palm and jabbed an elbow backward. Quinlan released her, gasping in mock pain.
“Quinlan,” Danny said. “Fancy running into you out here. In the dark. Hiding.” Irritation resonated in every word. He held his sword at the ready. “Has Niall got you scouting his lands? Counting cattle?”
“I came of my own accord.”
Not at Breanne’s behest?
“Oh? What brought you trekking about into the dark, sneaking upon us?” Danny widened his stance and folded his arms, although he still gripped the thick broadsword.
Why was he so menacing with Quinlan? Were they not friends? Ailyn could guess. Perhaps Danny worried that Quinlan would stymie their progress. She became torn between her desire to protect her brother by finding the stones and relief over the notion that Quinlan had come to aid them.
“My apologies for startling you. I meant only to be sure no one followed.”
Danny’s eyes narrowed. “Did my sister send you?”
A small trill swept up her throat at Danny’s question. Would Breanne have shared her presages with Quinlan? Did he know what Ailyn was? She kept her gaze steady when his two amber eyes met hers, her mind searching for a way to make him stay.
“Will you welcome me to your tour of the lands, Danny?”
A flash of emotion passed through his eyes so briefly she wondered if she’d imagined it. The only proof it might have been real was the new tremble in her throat. What was he trying to decipher in her expression?
“I won’t insult your intelligence if you’ll not insult mine, Quinlan. You’ve lingered long enough to know this is no tour. If neither Breanne nor Niall sent you, why have you come, Quinlan?” Danny asked pointedly.
His gaze went to Danny at last. “A fair enough question, but if you dinna mind, I’d prefer to tell the tale be firelight.” When Danny barely nodded, he added, “Today, I discovered something I suspect will be of interest to you. To both of you.”
Chapter Thirteen
Of the many scenarios Quinlan had run through his mind preparing to see her, in none had he imagined such a physical reaction to seeing Ailyn. The firelight had brought a certain glow to her complexion. She’d unbound her hair, and the breeze that pulled it from her face as she sat, deep in thought, unnerved him. It had taken every ounce of his will to wait, to think, to not charge into the small clearing and send Danny home.
He had no call to feel so possessive of the lass.
“What is it then, that you have to so interest us?” Danny asked.
“In due time, Daniel. Can you allow a man to get settled before being drawn and quartered?” Quinlan hedged. Allow him time to come up with something true yet important to tell them. As he conjured such a thing, he could assess Ailyn’s safety. How easily he found them did not bode well. Unless naught was amiss here after all.
The younger man grunted. “Where is your horse?” Danny asked, leading through the trees back to the fire.
The flames had died down a bit. The moon hung high in the sky, though, offering light aplenty among the stars.
“A pace back, tethered,” he said, keeping his eyes on Ailyn’s every step, attempting to read her mood.
“You’ll want to fetch it. I dinna like the idea of leaving bait for robbers.”
“I mean no offense here, but if you’re wanting to avoid detection, Danny, you’ve failed.”
Ailyn abruptly stopped. “You found us easily?”
He should not feel such satisfaction from the mere sound of her voice. How had he become so invested in her fate that such a thing mattered? Oh, the questions he had. But Danny’s presence held the urge to demand answers in check. The lad—young man, he had to mentally correct—was acting far too possessive by half of Ailyn. Certainly he was too young to be thinking of wooing the lass. “Aye. Easily.”
Ailyn looked to Danny, worry furrowing her brow. “We should ride.”
“Through the night?” Danny shook his head meaningfully. “If there are any who are wont to find us, they will.”
Quinlan watched the play of expression over Ailyn’s face. The worry in her full lips, the set of her delicate jaw. Just as he’d suspected, Danny wasna touring her through the lands. He looked for the pendant he’d spotted at Breanne’s, but saw no sign of it on Ailyn’s neck. Likely, it hung between her breasts, beneath her tight-fitted tunic.
The fire made a loud crack in the silence between them. “I agree with Danny. Rather than ride, I’ll stay as well. Protection in numbers.”
Danny’s eyes flashed with anger, but he didn’t argue.
Ailyn nodded after a moment. “Do thieves commonly raid these parts?”
“With such a warm autumn, I wouldna be surprised.”
“Any raiding will fall to the south of the tuath,” Quinlan added. “Where the herd has been moved.”
“Niall moved the cattle?” Danny asked.
“Aye.” Something in the back of Quinlan’s mind warned him to share as little as possible. He had no reason to distrust Danny, yet he was a candidate for whoever was occupying Heremon’s home. Thereby, he could as easily be a part of that slaughter as any. “We’re in agreement then? I’ll stay.”
Danny grinned readily. “It doesna take danger to make you welcome here, Quin.” He moved back to the rock he’d been sitting on when Quinlan approached. “Have you eaten?”
If only he’d been able to hear what they’d been discussing before they’d discovered him, he could inquire directly, or at the least, feel better at ease. He’d have to settle for a night’s rest and trusting that come sunrise, he’d ken where he could best serve the truth—with Ailyn or returning to Tir Conaill. “I’ll never turn away an offer of a meal.”
Perhaps he could find an opportunity to ask about Ailyn’s pendant, see it again and verify his suspicion that it matched the drawing. The drawing Seamus had likely already given to Niall. Why that bothered him so much, he’d yet to understand.
“I’d not call it a meal,” Danny said, his usual easygoing demeanor in full force. Enough so that Quinlan wondered if he’d imagined the earlier reticence.
Danny tossed him a deerskin satchel. Quinlan helped himself to some seasoned, dried venison and a chunk of soda bread—Rose’s recipe, if he wasn’t mistaken. He chewed each in turns, masking the churn of suspicion inside him.
A matter of days ago, his only concerns were whether to rejoin the Scots efforts or to lay down roots anew in Tir Conaill, perhaps joining Niall’s galloglas after a
ll. Perhaps once he gleaned some answers, he could settle his unrest around this woman and her lot.
Every few bites of her own meat, she surreptitiously glanced his way, her eyes never landing on him. Rather, she eyed his feet. The ground. The fire, trees, satchel. Her thick braid rested on one shoulder. With no loose strands to hide her beauty, the firelight showed her high cheekbones and oval face. If ever there were truly beings such as water sprites and pixies among the sidhe, she would be one.
Delicate, yet fierce.
The people of the hills reveled in mischief and mayhem, though, and Ailyn seemed more the brunt of it. Breanne once said those folk had abandoned their mischief with mortals once St. Patrick’s message took hold of the people. Aye, St. Patrick had driven out the snakes, to be sure. The vipers that Quinlan’s grandmother oft spoke of with a gleam in her eye and a warning in her tone seem to be hiding well for many years now.
She wouldna look at him, but he had no such qualms. Quinlan openly appraised her. Danny, meanwhile, did the same of Quinlan. The younger man’s eyes nigh bore a hole in Quinlan’s chest. The air practically crackled as loud as the fire with the tension among them. Interesting.
“I’ve no blanket to offer you, Quin,” Danny said, dusting his hands against his thighs. “Will you be well enough without one?”
Was the man back to pushing him off again? Why so territorial, Quinlan wondered. “Worry not, friend.” It wouldna be his first night under the stars with no more than the clothes on his arse to keep him alive, but he’d come prepared.
He’d had to. After investigating Heremon’s home, he’d done what he could to talk Seamus out of that parchment. Combined with catching up to Danny and tracking their route, which was quite easy, he’d counted on a late night and need of warmth.
That drawing combined with Danny’s oddly possessive demeanor fed Quinlan’s suspicions. Yet there were no signs that they were trying to hide, run, or otherwise conceal motives. Except…no, not even Ailyn’s desire to ride through the night could be marked as suspicious. Perhaps he was merely looking for an easy excuse to join them.
