The House of Gaian

  So she’d held to her decision and rode ahead with the Bard and two barons—not because the witches who lived at Willowsbrook might still feel hostile toward the Fae but because she wanted to take the measure of the Huntress before exposing her men.

  As she rode toward the manor house, she noticed the small black dog sound asleep under a tree. She noticed the large hawk who watched them from its perch on a pole that supported lines of pegged clothes. She noticed the men around the stables, who put down grooming brushes and picked up pitchforks and crossbows. And she noticed the dark-haired woman who strode out of the house and headed right toward them, followed by a man and woman.

  She reined in. Aiden stopped alongside her, and the barons swung their horses to either side to flank them.

  Aiden raised his hand. “Blessings of the day, Breanna.”

  Breanna’s eyes flicked from Aiden to Ashk, and Ashk saw a question in those woodland eyes that a man would never notice and any woman would understand.

  “I am Ashk, the Hunter,” she said. “My husband guested with your family a few weeks ago and asked me to send you his regards.”

  “Husband?” Breanna studied Ashk. “You mean Padrick?”

  Ashk nodded.

  “He was a sensible man,” Breanna said, her voice turning sour. “Even if he is gentry…and Fae.”

  Oh, dear. It didn’t sound like the barons were going to be warmly welcomed, either. And there was still doubt in Breanna’s eyes.

  “Lyrra will be pleased to see you,” Aiden said with a smile, proving that he had understood the question in Breanna’s eyes as well. “She’s waiting with some of our companions. We didn’t want to impose on you until…” He trailed off, now looking uncertain.

  “Until you were sure I wouldn’t shoot you?” She threw up her hands, a gesture of sheer exasperation. “Didn’t I promise Falco and Varden I wouldn’t threaten to shoot any Fae just for riding into the Old Place? They said it made the Fae nervous.”

  “That’s because they’ve seen you shoot,” the man who had followed her said.

  Breanna twisted around to look at him. “I’m a good shot!”

  “Exactly.” He looked at the two barons. “Good day, gentlemen.”

  “Good day, Baron Donovan,” one of the barons replied. “I’m surprised, but pleased, to see you here.”

  “The fight is here,” Donovan said grimly. “And the Master Inquisitor is heading for Willowsbrook, so we win or lose here.”

  “We must talk with Baron Liam as soon as possible,” the other baron said.

  Donovan rubbed the back of his neck. “Liam is involved in a rather…delicate…discussion at the moment.”

  Breanna snorted. “What Donovan is trying to say is my featherheaded jackass of a brother is having a bang-up argument with the Huntress over something that is none of his business.” She paused, then added, “It isn’t any of Selena’s business, either, but since she’s on my side, she can say what she pleases.”

  The other woman snickered.

  “Gwenn,” Donovan warned.

  The muscles in Ashk’s back tightened painfully. “The Baron of Willowsbrook is having an argument with the Huntress?”

  “You’d think he’d have better things to do, wouldn’t you?” Breanna said sourly.

  She would have hoped a baron would have more sense. Perhaps he didn’t realize the kind of power the Huntress wielded—in which case, someone should tell him. Fast.

  Before she could phrase a request that someone inform the Huntress that the Hunter had arrived, a soft wind blew out of the woods, riffling the grass and dancing past the leaves on the big tree.

  Breanna snapped to attention. “Gwenn?”

  “Yes,” Gwenn replied softly. “I think so.”

  Her patience worn thin, Ashk dismounted, prepared to insist that they discuss where the army waiting for orders could make camp.

  Then she saw the black-haired woman race around the side of the manor house and come to an abrupt stop, her attention focused on the woods. Joy lit her face, and her resemblance to Rhyann was strong enough for Ashk to guess her identity. When her attention shifted to the newcomers and the joy faded, there was no doubt in Ashk’s mind that this was the woman who had shaken the Fae enough to come down from Tir Alainn. There was no doubt that the woman now walking toward them was Selena, the Lady of the Moon…and the Huntress.

  Ashk walked forward to meet her, aware of the tension starting to fill the people behind her. They stopped at the same time, close enough that one leap in their other forms would have them at each other’s throats.

  “I am Ashk, the Hunter,” Ashk said.

  Selena studied Ashk, her eyes searching for something. “Shadow hound.”

  “Yes.”

  They studied each other, searching, measuring—and finally smiling in approval of what each saw in the other.

  “Are you being bossy again?” a voice asked.

  Ashk clenched her teeth. It had been too much to hope that Rhyann would follow orders—and seeing the temper flash in Selena’s eyes made her wish she could change into her other form and give Rhyann a sharp nip.

  “Some people wouldn’t have to be bossy if other people did what they were told,” Selena snapped.

  Here, here, Ashk thought, turning enough to see Rhyann walking toward them, followed by Breanna and the others.

  “And some people just like being bossy,” Rhyann replied with a sweetness designed to spike another woman’s temper. “I kept my promise to Father. I came to this side of the hills with an entire army as an escort. Who came with you?”

  Selena made an indescribable sound.

  “There’s an army?” Breanna asked.

  “Yes,” Rhyann replied. “Fae, human, and Sons and Daughters of the House of Gaian.” She gave Selena an annoyingly sweet smile. “Why don’t you and the Hunter go discuss whatever you need to discuss, and I’ll help—” She looked inquiringly at Breanna.

  “Breanna,” Breanna said.

  “I’ll help Breanna sort things out here.”

  Mother’s mercy, Ashk thought, wondering how much longer it would be before Selena simply exploded.

  But the Huntress gave Ashk a look that could sear flesh and snarled, “I’ll saddle my horse and meet you at the arch near the stables.”

  Watching Selena stride toward the stables and the arch, Ashk grabbed Aiden’s arm, pulled him aside, and said in a low voice, “Use your gift, Bard, and smooth things over as best you can here.”

  Aiden gave her a weak smile. “I’ll ask Lyrra to join us. She and Breanna deal well together.”

  “Do what you think best.” She saw a dark-haired man come round the corner of the house, check his stride when he noticed the new arrivals, and continue toward them slowly.

  “Do you have any advice about dealing with featherheaded older brothers?” Ashk heard Breanna ask.

  “Of course,” Rhyann replied cheerfully. “I’m very good at being a younger sister. I’ve been practicing all my life.”

  Aiden grabbed Ashk’s arm, his blue eyes filled with alarm. Ashk just patted his hand and pulled away. “Do what you can, Bard.”

  As she hurried back to her horse, she knew with absolute certainty that, no matter what mood the Huntress was in, by leaving Aiden to deal with annoyed barons and younger sisters, she was getting the better side of the bargain.

  Aiden wondered how he was supposed to smooth things over and get a message to Lyrra that he needed her. Then he remembered the letter in his saddlebags—and the hawk.

  Hurrying back to Minstrel, he made a “come here” gesture to the hawk. His stride faltered when he saw the hawk flutter to the ground and change into a man.

  What had Falco been up to here that he felt comfortable enough to change form where outsiders could see him?

  “Merry meet, Aiden,” Falco said, smiling but a bit wary, as if he anticipated criticism from someone he considered a friend.

  “Merry meet, Falco,” Aiden replied. “I see you’ve beco
me acquainted with the ladies here.”

  Falco stiffened. “You’re not the only one who has a heart, Aiden. Breanna’s brother has no reason—yet—to believe in a Fae Lord’s ability to be loyal to a lover, but I thought you would understand since you and Lyrra—” He stopped. Looked away. “But it is different because you’re both Fae.”

  Falco and Breanna? Aiden wisely hid the grin of delight that might be mistaken for mockery. “I take it her brother disapproves?”

  “I can’t blame him,” Falco said quietly. “Not after—” He closed his eyes for a moment before looking at Aiden. “Do you know where the Black Coats got their Inquisitor’s Gift of persuasion? Do you know where they got the power to draw magic from the land and twist it to create those nighthunter creatures?”

  A chill went through Aiden as he shook his head.

  “From us. They’re children we abandoned in the human world because they weren’t pure Fae. We enjoyed the women, both human and witches, and ignored the children we sired.”

  “You don’t know that,” Aiden protested.

  “Yes, I do. Varden’s men caught a Black Coat when Baron Liam’s home was attacked a few days ago. We’ve kept it among ourselves—so far—but we know, Aiden.”

  Staggered, Aiden rubbed his hands over his face. “The Inquisitors came from Wolfram.”

  “Which only means it wasn’t the Sylvalan Clans who had ignored those men when they were young. What about the children here? There are some. You know there are. Mother’s mercy, Aiden, the Huntress is one of them. So I don’t blame Liam for being reluctant to accept that I’m staying.”

  Aiden stumbled as he reached Minstrel. Leaning against the horse, he noticed how his hands shook while he tried to open the saddlebag. “We’ll talk more about it later, Falco. Right now, I need you to go into the woods and fetch Lyrra.”

  He waited until Falco changed form again and flew off toward the trees before he pulled the letter out of the saddlebag. After he closed the saddlebag’s flap, he leaned over and rested his forehead against the leather.

  As soon as she got back from her ride with Selena, he would have to tell Ashk what he’d learned about the Inquisitors. She needed to know about every weapon the enemy could bring to the fight—including their ability to control people through persuasion. But, right now, he had to do his best to smooth things over between men and women, brothers and sisters, gentries’ sensibilities and witches’ feelings. And he was gambling that the piece of wax-sealed paper would help him do that.

  As he walked back to the others, he noticed they’d split into two groups. Breanna and Gwenn were talking with Rhyann while the barons stood a few feet away, probably making plans for the army. He also noticed that the dark-haired man he assumed was the Baron of Willowsbrook—and Breanna’s brother—kept glancing her way, as if to keep an eye on her.

  “Breanna?” Aiden held out the folded paper. “This is for you.”

  Looking puzzled, Breanna studied the blob of sealing wax, then looked at him. “What is it? A song?”

  “I don’t think so. We met up with a messenger heading east. Since I was coming to Willowsbrook anyway, he entrusted me to deliver this to you in exchange for taking messages back to the west.”

  Still puzzled, she turned the paper over—and stared at the writing.

  “Mother’s mercy.” She broke the wax seal, opened the paper, and started to read. Her eyes filled with tears. Then she laughed. “Jenny. It’s from my cousin Jenny. She and Mihail have found safe harbor somewhere in the west. And Tremaine’s sons are with them. They got out. They escaped.”

  As Gwenn slid a comforting arm around Breanna, Aiden saw her brother break away from the other men.

  “Breanna?” he enquired, his voice sharp with concern, his eyes fixed on Aiden with suspicion.

  Laughing and crying, Breanna shook her head. “They found safe harbor. I have to tell Fiona and Gran. And Mihail’s wife. Oh, she’s been desperate for any news of him.” She threw her arms around Aiden’s neck and choked him with the hug. “Oh, thank you, Aiden. Thank you.” Spinning around, she almost knocked Liam over as she ran to the house.

  Gwenn and Rhyann hurried after her.

  Aiden looked at the man who continued to stare back at him. “You’re the Baron of Willowsbrook?”

  “I’m Liam.”

  Aiden extended his hand in the human way of greeting. “Aiden. The Bard.”

  Some of the tension in Liam eased as he slipped his hand into Aiden’s. “Breanna has mentioned you.”

  “No matter what she’s said, I’m not taking the dog.”

  Liam grinned as they turned and looked at the small black dog, who was still sound asleep under the tree. They watched Lyrra ride up, slow her horse as she, too, looked at the dog and shook her head, and finally rein in when she reached them.

  “I saw Breanna run into the house,” Lyrra said. “What’s wrong?”

  Aiden shook his head. “The letter I had for her was good news. The kind women like to cry over.”

  “And men never shed tears? Ha!” Lyrra shoved the reins into the closest pair of hands—which happened to be Liam’s—and ran to the house.

  “I’ll take those,” Aiden said, holding out a hand for the reins. “You’ve other business to attend to.”

  Nodding, Liam returned to the other barons.

  Well, Aiden thought as he led Lyrra’s horse toward the watering trough in the stableyard, with Minstrel and the barons’ horses following, it isn’t exactly what Ashk intended when she’d askedme to smooth things over, but it will keep everyone occupied for a while.

  They ran. There was no need for human speech. A yip, a soft growl, a wag of a tail was all either needed as commentary about the sounds and smells their heightened senses picked up.

  It felt strange to roam the land with another shadow hound, especially another strong bitch. Selena fought against the instinct to surrender more to the animal nature and push a confrontation that would decide dominance. Perhaps because she knew, deep down, that Ashk had lived in this form in ways that she had not, and that experience would win in a fight.

  So she trotted beside the Hunter, pleased with how easily they moved together.

  Then she picked up a strange scent and moved off on her own to investigate. A bad smell. Bitter. Foul. The trail seemed to lead to the dead tree among the stand of trees up ahead.

  She started forward, then yipped in pain and surprise when Ashk nipped her flank. She rounded on Ashk, her teeth bared, her hackles raised. But Ashk’s attention was focused on the trees, and the snarl rising from her throat spoke of deadly anger.

  Ashk backed away, her attention never leaving the stand of trees.

  Selena paused a moment to sniff the scent again. When she was in human form, the smell would be much weaker, but she would recognize it again.

  Ashk trotted away, stopping every few yards to look back and study the trees. Selena followed, puzzled by the Hunter’s behavior. When the trees were a field away, Ashk settled into a ground-eating trot that a shadow hound could sustain for hours.

  Finally they reached the top of a rise beyond the village of Willowsbrook. Flat land stretched before them—grass and wildflowers. Beyond the field, more woodland took over. The road cut through the woodland and the field, curving leisurely around the rise they stood on as it continued on its way to the village and the surrounding farms and estates.

  Almost in the center of the field was a tumbled pile of huge stones, as if a giant child had taken blocks of stone to play with, built them up, then knocked them down. There would be a warren of hiding places among those stones. An enemy entrenched there wouldn’t be attacked or driven out easily.

  She didn’t like those stones. She didn’t know why, but they made her hackles rise.

  Ashk shifted back to human form. Reluctantly, Selena did the same.

  “This is the place,” Ashk said quietly as she studied the land. “This is where we’ll stand and fight. The Black Coats will take cover among
the trees to hide the strength of their army, but they won’t hide as well as they hope to. The woods will watch them. Birds will give warning. We’ll know when they arrive. We can hold this high ground, use it to cover our own movements. The village is behind us, and if we defend the road here, we can keep it protected. The wounded will be sent to the Old Place. It’s closer to the Mother’s Hills, and that will give our people a better chance of getting the wounded to safety if we’re forced back and have to choose another battleground.”

  Selena looked out at the grass and wildflowers. Looked away from the tumble of stones. “That’s what you see here? A battleground?”

  Ashk nodded. “It’s a good place to fight. As good as any I’ve seen today.”

  A shiver went through Selena. Not because there would be a fight, but because Ashk sounded so calm about it. Feeling unsettled, she asked, “What was that smell back there? The foul one?”

  “Nighthunters. I’ll have to talk to the witches, maybe even the baron, to find out how many we have to cleanse from the woods here.” Ashk continued to study the land. She paused for a long moment as her eyes focused on the stones, then went on. “We have to hunt them down. And I’ll have to find out if any of the Clans brought Fae who are Death’s Servants. We can bury the bodies of the dead, but their spirits will still be a feast that will draw the nighthunters, no matter what we do to stop them.”

  Selena swallowed the sick feeling rising from the pit of her stomach. “Feast?”

  Ashk looked at her. “Some of us will die here, Huntress. Many of us will die here. It’s not just flesh and blood that nighthunters devour. They feast on the ghosts, the spirits of the dead. So the spirits of our dead need to be taken to the Shadowed Veil as quickly as possible. To keep them safe. To let them go on to the Summerland.”

  “Mother’s mercy,” Selena whispered.

  “We’d better get back,” Ashk said, turning away from the field. “We need to put the time we have left to good use.”