The ground trembled, and the wind blew like a fury.
“We call the sun!” Hoyt shouted. “We call the light!”
“We call the dawn!” Glenna’s voice rose with his, and the power grew as Moira clasped her free hand. “Burn off the night.”
“Rise in the east,” Moira chanted, staring through the smoke that swirled up around them while Larkin and Blair completed the circle. “Spread to the west.”
“It’s coming,” Blair cried. “Look. Look east.”
Over the shadow of mountains the sky lightened, and the light spread and speared and grew until it was bright as noon.
Below, fleeing vampires burned to nothing.
On the rocky, broken ground, flowers began to bloom.
“Do you see that?” Larkin’s hand tightened on Moira’s, and his voice was thick, reverent. “The grass, it’s greening.”
She saw it, and the sweet charm of the white and yellow flowers that spread over its carpet. She saw the bodies of the fallen on the meadow of a lush and sun-lit valley.
But nowhere did she see Cian.
Chapter 21
Though the battle was won, there was still work. Moira labored with Glenna in what Glenna called triage for the wounded. Blair and Larkin had taken a party out to hunt down any vampires that might have found shelter from the sun while Hoyt helped transport those whose wounds were less severe back to one of the bases.
After rinsing blood from her hands again, Moira stretched her back. And spotting Ceara wandering as if in a daze, rushed to her.
“Here, here, you’re hurt.” Moira pressed a hand to the wound on Ceara’s shoulder. “Come, let me dress this.”
“My husband.” Her gaze roamed from pallet to pallet even as she leaned heavily against Moira. “Eogan. I can’t find my husband. He’s—”
“Here. He’s here. I’ll take you. He’s been asking for you.”
“Wounded?” Ceara swayed. “He’s—”
“Not mortally, I promise you. And seeing you, he’ll heal all the quicker. There, over there, you see? He’s—”
Moira got no further as Ceara cried out and in a stumbling run rushed to fall to her knees beside where her husband lay.
“It’s good to see, good for the heart to see.”
She turned, smiled at her uncle. Riddock, his arm and leg bandaged, sat on a supply crate.
“I wish all lovers would be reunited as they are. But…we lost so many. More than three hundred dead, and the count still coming.”
“And how many live, Moira?” He could see the wounds she bore on her body, and in her eyes the wounds she bore on her heart. “Honor the dead, but rejoice in the living.”
“I will. I will.” Still she scanned the wounded, those who tended them, and feared for only one. “Are you strong enough to travel home?”
“I’ll go with the last. I’ll bring our dead home, Moira. Leave that for me.”
She nodded, and after embracing him went back to her duties. She was helping a soldier sip water when Ceara found her again.
“His leg, Eogan’s leg…Glenna said he won’t lose it, but—”
“Then he won’t. She wouldn’t lie to you, or to him.”
On a steadying breath, Ceara nodded. “I can help. I want to help.” Ceara touched her bandaged shoulder. “Glenna looked after me, and said I’m well enough. I’ve seen Dervil. She came through very well. Cuts and bruises for the most of it.”