“I brought wine,” Ciara said in a badly faked cheerful tone.
Her glare turned into a smile that was more of a grimace as she swept past them to hand the wineskin to Irial. The look Irial gave her as she accepted it was cold. Ciara looked down and hunched her shoulders as if she had been scolded. From beneath her blond bangs she glared at Neala again. It felt like a weight upon her forehead, pressing in, menacing. Uttering an exasperated sound, Irial turned on Ciara. Her fists were balled up and green and purple energy glowed around them.
“Ciara, if ye cannot be polite to our guest then ye’ll have to leave,” Irial warned.
Ciara bowed her head and took a step back. “I’m terribly sorry, Rector. It won’t happen again.”
Liam took the load of branches from her arms. “See that it doesn’t,” he said in a gentle tone.
The mood lightened instantly. Ciara drew back and found a rock to sit on close to her brother and Kyla. Cian and Kyla were so engaged in their conversation that they ignored her. Kyla even turned her back on the girl. Whether it was so she could lean closer to Cian or because she didn’t like Ciara was hard to tell. The defeated look on Ciara’s face suggested it was at least in part the second reason. Despite her dislike of her, Neala found herself feeling bad for the girl. The soft look Bren snuck Ciara’s way banished the sympathy, though. His gaze darted away and his fingers tightened around Neala’s hand.
Flint sounded against steel and sparks lit up the darkening evening. A flame bit at dried leaves beneath Liam’s fingers. He set aside the flint stone and held his hand out to the flame. Yellow energy poured out from his fingers and fed the flame as surely as a good breeze would have. Liam stepped back, still feeding power into the fire. In only moments the entire pile of branches was aflame. Neala gasped. Sure Bren had told her Rectors could do such a thing, but seeing it was amazing.
Irial and Kyla applauded his show and Neala was quick to join in. She shot Bren an open-mouthed look of wonder and shook her head. He smiled and laughed. When their applause died down Neala realized music had started up somewhere nearby. Fiddles, pipes, drums, and fifes wove a lively tune that called to her spirit and had her foot tapping to the rhythm.
“Let’s dance!” Liam cried as he grabbed Irial’s hand and pulled her to him.
Letting out a whoop of excitement, Cian leaped to his feet and pulled Kyla and Ciara with him. The five of them twirled and danced about the fire, laughing all the while. Bren stood and extended his hand to Neala. With the fire behind him it was hard to read his expression. Was he being polite or did he really want to dance with her? There was only one way to find out. She took his hand and let him pull her up. His eyes sparkled with excitement and there was a tenderness that softened his features when he drew her close.
For a heartbeat they were only a handspan away from each other, eyes locked, lips so close Neala could almost imagine how his would taste. Then they were being whisked into the circle of dancers that wove around the fire. It was hard to be disappointed once she was caught up in the joy the others shared. Hands guided her about, twirling her and passing her off. Liam, Kyla, Irial, Cian, Bren, and even Ciara all took turns dancing with her. They wove circles around the fire, keeping back a safe enough distance for the sake of the ladies skirts and hair.
The music carried Neala, moving her body as if it controlled her. Something pounded out a wonderful rhythm in her ears, whether it was drums or her heart she couldn’t tell and it didn’t matter. All that did was the pulse coming up through her feet, running through her, connecting her to the others. Her power surged, reaching out from her hands and into whoever she touched. Their power reached out to her too, tingling as it sank into her body. Everyone glowed with the color of their power, looking like colorful fairy lights dancing about the fire.
Usually raising so much power left Neala feeling like she needed to channel it out somewhere but this was different. It just leaked out of her skin. There was no feeling of pressure, only the need to mingle with the power of the others. And it was amazing when it did. It was as if she was touching a part of who they were. Kyla’s power was wild and honest, while Cian’s was rambunctious and deeply loyal. Liam’s power shone like the sun, warm and protective. Irial’s was like the pull of the moon and evoked feelings of safety and hope. Deep sadness tainted the feel of Ciara’s chaotic energy.
Then there was Bren’s energy. It was a lovely shade of green with specks of pink and red throughout it. It made her think of the rolling fields dotted with red flowers. He appeared euphoric, as though he were gazing at the thing his world centered upon. Though it was flattering, the look brought a massive amount of pressure down onto her shoulders. Grabbing her hand, he drew her close, immersing her in his power. Her heart pounded as he started to lean down to her.
There was no fear of messing it up, only anticipation for the feel of his lips on hers. His hands slid down her waist, one of them slightly cupping one of her buttocks. She sucked in a sharp breath and tensed. Kissing was one thing, but that was taking it a bit far, especially in front of the Order. His hips pressed against hers and she felt far more of him than she was ready to. She started to pull away but his grip held her tight.
Suddenly the music stopped and the others pressed in. Bren looked away and stepped back. Everyone clapped Neala and Ciara on the back and commented upon how great ‘that’ was. For a moment Ciara gave Neala a brilliant smile filled with joy, but it faded when Bren’s arm settled around Neala’s shoulders. Despite the thrill his touch sent through her, Neala’s heart sank to her stomach. She wasn’t sure why, but she felt bad for the girl.
“What exactly was that?” Neala asked. It had been much more than a dance, of that she was certain.
Irial’s eyes were wide and a huge smile was spread across her face. With her sharp features the expression transformed her to look like one of the Fae so many people accused Neala’s kind of being. “That was the bondin’. Welcome to our Order Neala and Ciara,” she said a bit breathlessly.
Neala had no time to react because suddenly everyone was taking turns hugging her and Ciara. When Bren’s turn to embrace her came she hugged him carefully, keeping distance between their bodies. A small, deep laugh rumbled through him and he pulled back enough to look down at her. The joy upon his face was enhanced by the desire in his eyes. Could it be that he wanted her to be part of his Order as much as she did? Or was it something else entirely that he wanted? She shrugged aside the thought.
“Is this real?” she whispered to him.
“Oh tá, very real,” he whispered back.
“This calls for a drink!” Cian said, holding up the wineskin. A squeal issued from Ciara as she jumped up and grabbed the wineskin. The grin Cian gave her made Neala’s heart ache so bad that she remembered how fragile it was since her brother’s death. That sibling grin of pure joy was one Lorcan had often given her.
The wineskin made its way around the group and along with it came the most profound sense of belonging. Never had Neala felt anything like it. Even the look of regret Ciara cast her way couldn’t dim her excitement. For the first time, she had friends, she belonged somewhere.
The wineskin came her way but she hesitated to take it. Bren accepted it from Liam and took a long drink then held it before Neala. His other hand snaked around her waist and trailed slowly down until it rested on her hip.
“No worries, it tastes sweet,” he encouraged her.
Accepting it, she took a small drink. It was indeed sweet with a hint of blackberries. With Bren’s encouragement, she took another drink, this time a long one. It warmed her all the way down to her stomach. Bren laughed—his hand sliding closer to the inside of her hip—and took the wineskin from her. The heat of embarrassment—and something else—spread through her at his bold touch.
“Easy there. I haven’t seen ye eat since midday,” he said.
Now that he mentioned it, she was really hungry.
“Ye know, I don’t recall eatin’ much today either. I could u
se something to eat,” Ciara said from somewhere off to their left. Her voice was strained and the cheer in her tone was clearly forced.
Irial grabbed Neala’s hand. “Come on, we’ll get ye somethin’ to eat while the lads talk,” she said.
Smile wilting, Bren shook his head as Neala was tugged from his grasp. She didn’t want to leave but she loved that Irial wanted to spend some time with her. Besides, Bren’s roving hands were getting a bit too bold. Maybe time apart would help him cool off. And as long as Ciara was coming along—rather than staying behind with Bren—Neala was all right with it. A quick glance and smile back at Bren was all she managed as Irial led her away.
“Sounds great! I’m starvin’,” Kyla exclaimed as she grabbed one of Neala’s hands and one of Ciara’s.
“Hey bring me back somethin’,” Cian called out.
Kyla mumbled something in the old language about serving wenches and shook her head, making both Irial and Neala laugh.
Ciara rolled her eyes. “Me brother, always hungry.”
The world swayed a bit and Neala was happy they both had a hold of her. Maybe she shouldn’t have taken that second drink. Having only had wine a couple of times, she didn’t exactly have a tolerance built up. It made her feel slow and vulnerable and she didn’t like it. But she had a feeling Irial and Kyla would take care of her.
13
Watching the trees swallow Ciara who dashed off to answer nature’s call, Neala finally built up the courage to ask what had been bothering her all night.
“Was there somethin’ between Ciara and Bren?”
A snort escaped Kyla and she laughed. “She wishes,” she said.
“She’s been sweet on him since we were young. There was a chance of somethin’ between them once, but after his da died things didn’t go so well between them,” Irial said.
The touch of sadness in her voice suggested Bren wasn’t the only one who was hurt by what had happened. What could she possibly have done? A fierce protectiveness swept through Neala. If that girl had hurt Bren. . . Her fists tightened at the mere thought.
“Things will be different now that we’re all bonded,” Kyla said.
“They will indeed,” Irial said as she patted Kyla’s shoulder.
A pulse of energy passed from Irial into Kyla. The wrinkles in her brow relaxed and she let out a breath. It was as if Irial had soothed her with her power.
“Did Ciara do somethin’?” Neala asked, doing her best not to sound as hostile as she felt.
Irial started to answer but then they stepped out of the forest and into utter chaos. People were running about, breaking down their carts and loading up wagons. The fires had all been doused, even the main bonfire, leaving only trails of grey smoke curling into the dark sky. There was no music or laughter. The festival usually went long into the early hours of morning with people passing out around the fires. This wasn’t the festival winding down. It had come to a screeching halt.
“Bloody hell. What is going on?” Kyla asked.
“That’s a good question,” Irial said.
She grabbed a young man who was rushing by and asked him. Neala felt Irial’s power flare and wondered if she had used it to enhance her strength. The way the man came to a jerking halt and struggled feebly against her grip certainly made it look like she had.
“A rider came. He said Uí Faelain has fallen to the Danes,” the man said in a voice that trembled almost as much as he did.
Icy fear worked its way through Neala’s veins, wiping out the fuzzy effects of the wine. Uí Faelain was less than a day’s ride from here. If the Danes were there then there was no longer any doubt about them coming inland. Both Irial and Kyla went rigid. Irial’s hand tightened around Neala’s.
“No. I have cousins there,” Kyla whispered.
“Sorry lass, it’s not likely ye do anymore,” the man said.
With a shove, Irial let go of him and he dashed off. There was a moment where they all stood frozen in horror and Neala had no idea what to do. Then, Irial launched into action. Her energy swelled, encircling the three of them. Within it Neala felt like nothing could hurt them. It lent strength to her shaking legs and gave her courage.
“Kyla, go tell the lads. Let them know to meet us back in the meadow in no more than half a candlemark. We’ll decide what to do from there,” Irial said.
Kyla spun and took off. Neala’s heart sank as she watched her go. She knew they weren’t in any danger here yet, but she still didn’t like Kyla being out of her sight. With a start, she realized there was a part of her that worried for Ciara as well. Feelings of comfort poured into her from Irial, easing some of her anxiety.
“She’ll be all right. Come on, we’ve got to go find our families,” Irial said as she started into the milling crowd, holding tight to Neala’s hand.
They came across Neala’s parents first. Her ma was loading the cart while her da hitched up their pair of black and white horses. Dubh was tied to the back of the cart, steadily digging a hole with a front hoof. When he saw her, he let out a whinny that sounded more like an angry scream. The sound drew her ma’s attention. When her gaze fell upon Neala she let out a big sigh and pressed a hand to her heart.
“Thank goodness ye’re all right,” she said.
Abandoning the loading, she dashed over and embraced Neala. It seemed like a bit of an overreaction considering the invaders were still half a day’s ride from here.
“Course I am, ma,” she said.
Cecily pulled back and took Neala’s face in her hands. Her eyes were filled with so much fear that it tugged at Neala’s heart, breaking through the anger over all the lies. Perhaps her ma was finally accepting the danger.
“I know how much ye want to fight so I wasn’t sure ye wouldn’t ride off. When I heard the news. . .” Cecily’s voice trailed off and she squeezed her eyes shut.
Neala gripped her ma’s shoulders until she opened her eyes again. “I’m all right ma,” she assured her.
The fear slid from Cecily’s eyes as she let out a long breath. She lifted her chin and gave Neala a serious look that made her wonder what she had done now.
“Yer da and I are going to help those fleeing Uí Faelain. Ye are to go straight home and wait for us there. Do not disobey me in this, please,” she said, voice strong until the final word.
An argument was forming in Neala’s mind but Irial touched her arm and stepped beside her, stopping the words. “Don’t worry. We’ll make sure she gets home safe,” she said.
Deep creases formed in Cecily’s brow when she looked at Irial and her eyes opened wide like a frightened deer’s. Slowly, her face and her bottom lip started quivering. Neala wondered if her ma had seen or sensed something about Irial.
“I trust that ye will. We have much to talk about when we get back,” Cecily said as her gaze shifted to Neala. There was a defeated tone to her voice that Neala secretly felt triumph over.
“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.
To Ride A Púca Page 11
