“And all the girls attest to it. I should be off. You’ll text me if you devise some grand scheme,” she said to Branna.
“I’ve some thoughts to put together. I’ll let you know when I have them sorted out.”
“Have a care.” Meara added a hug.
“I could use a care as well.”
Lifting her eyebrows at Connor, Meara tapped his cheek. “Enjoy your rambling, Iona, and you and Boyle have a care as well. And you, Fin.”
“I’ll walk out with you. I’ve some thoughts of my own to put together,” he said to Branna. “We might consider Litha.”
She nodded. “I am.”
“Isn’t that—yes, that’s the summer solstice,” Iona remembered. “Not till June?”
“A bit of time yet. Light smothers dark—and it’s the longest day, which we may use to our advantage. I’ve to think about it.”
“Would you rather I stay here tomorrow? Work with you?”
“No, go rambling. You’re right that it’s good for you to have a better sense of the world around this core of it. And I need that time to think.”
“Why don’t we give you some peace then,” Boyle suggested. “I’ll come fetch you, Iona, about nine.”
“You could. Or I could go with you now, and we can leave from your place whenever you’re ready.” She smiled at him. He didn’t shift, but she sensed he wanted to. “They all know we’re sleeping together.”
“Is that a fact?” Connor feigned surprise. “And here I thought you’ve been having a chess tournament and discussing world events.”
“You’re a rare one,” Boyle muttered. “We can leave from my house if you’d rather. Just don’t take half the night getting together what you need, as we’ll just be tramping around rubble and gravestones.”
“I packed a bag already, just in case. Call me,” she told Branna, “if you need me for anything.”
“Just have a good time of it.” She moved them along, friends and family, up to waving them away from the front door of the cottage.
And stood there a moment longer in the chilly dark.
“All right then, it’s just you and me as you wanted.” Connor laid a hand on her shoulder. “What is it?”
He wouldn’t look, Branna thought. Though she knew how to block him, he wouldn’t draw on her heart or mind. He’d consider it an intrusion.
“I don’t mean to cut Iona out, and she’s proven herself, God knows.”
“But you’re still getting used to her—and used to the others, all being part of it. Makes you feel tight in your skin, doesn’t it, all these people crowding you?”
How he knew her, she thought, and thank all the gods for it, and him. “It does, yes. How we ever came from the same parents is a wonder. Nothing suits you more than a crowd, and nothing suits me less.”
“Keeps us balanced.”
“Seems it does, and I’m thinking balance might be the thing.”
“Ostara, the equinox, the balance of day to night? Rather than the solstice?”
“I’ve thought of it—as obviously you have as well—but the time’s just too short to prepare it all, as it’s nearly on us.”
“I didn’t think her ready, our Iona,” he admitted, “but I wonder if I was wrong about that.”
“She needs more seasoning, to my mind. And deserves it as well. The solstice is close enough, and that’s a kind of balance as well. That tipping point of the year. It may be a chance. If you’d work with me a bit now. Just putting our heads together.”
He touched his forehead to hers. “A ritual, a spell of balancing—and banishing at the moment day holds longest—then slides into its ebbing.”