By the third, she’d found Meara again.
It felt so good she sang as she shoveled shit.
“Look at you, giving Adele a run for her money.”
“The woman’s got a brilliant throat.” Meara p
aused, smiled back at Iona who leaned on the open stall door. “Sure I never really understood that saying about how at least you have your health. Never really sick a day in my life. A strong constitution and a best friend who’s a witch with exceptional healing powers saw to that. Now that I’ve been down, I’m learning to give thanks for being up again.”
“You look great.”
“And feel even better.”
Meara wheeled the barrow out of the stall, and Iona stepped in to sweep it out. With their changed positions, Meara glanced right, left, to be certain they were alone.
“Since I’m better, will you tell me how bad it all was?”
“You don’t remember? You had all the details before, once you came out of it.”
“No, I remember. What I’m meaning is how bad was it, Iona? How close did he come to destroying me? I didn’t feel right asking Branna or Connor before,” she added when Iona hesitated. “But I’m on my feet now, and I’m asking you. Knowing the whole of it’s the last of the healing I think I’ll need.”
“It was very bad. I’ve never dealt with anything like that before. Well, I don’t think the others had either, but they knew more about it. The first moments, from what Branna told me, were critical. The deeper you went under, the harder it would be to bring you back, and the more likely . . . there could have been a kind of brain damage.”
“A madness.”
“Of a kind, I think. And memory loss, a psychosis. Branna said Connor reaching you so quickly made all the difference.”
“So he saved my life, and my sanity as well.”
“Yes. After that, the next hour or two were critical points. Branna knew just what to do, or she bluffed really well while barking out orders to Connor and me. I didn’t realize how scared I was until we were finished; it was all just do, and do now. Then Fin came and having him added to it. And Boyle. He sat, held your hand right through the ritual. It took over an hour, and you were so white and pale and still. Then your color started to come back, not much, but a little.”
“I’m making you cry. I don’t mean to make you cry.”
“No, it’s okay.” Iona dashed the tears away, and together they cut the binding on the fresh bale. “Your color came back, and Boyle said he felt your fingers move in his. And that’s when I realized how scared I’d been—when the worst, according to Branna, was over.”
“He put me down hard,” Meara said as she loosened the straw with a pitchfork. “That’s a tick in his column.”
“Maybe, but we brought you back, and here you are spreading fresh straw for Spud’s stall. That’s a bigger tick in ours.”
The silver lining, Meara mused. Iona could always find one. And maybe it was time she started searching them out herself.
“I’m after keeping it that way. I’ll be putting in some time with my sword. I need the practice.”
Needed practice, she thought as they moved to the next stall, on many things.
* * *
CONNOR DID SOME CLEANING OF HIS OWN, BUT WHAT HE considered end-of-the-day work. Birds must be fed, and as with horses, their area cleaned regularly of droppings. According to his personal calendar it was time for the hawks’ bath to be cleaned and sanitized.
He wanted the labor. He’d needed the sheer physicality and mindless rote of it the last day or so while Meara recovered. It took effort to maintain his own calm, for her sake, to add some cheer to keep her spirits up when she’d been weakened and tired, and so unlike herself.
With some women you brought flowers or chocolate. With Meara—not that some blossoms and candy were out of place—she did better with bits and pieces of village gossip, or tales of work, of the people who’d come by the schools or stables.
He’d done his best to supply her, to prop his boots up, lift a pint and regale her with stories—some of which he embellished, others he made up of whole cloth.
And what he’d wanted to do was hunt Cabhan down, to dare the bastard to show himself. He wanted to whip a wind so fierce it would rend his bones and freeze his blood.
The thirst for vengeance ran so strong he was constantly parched.