“I wouldn’t have thought of it. If I’d wanted a guide, I’d have pulled in Roibeard. It was a massive buck, and magnificent. Regal, and with a hide more gold than brown.”
“Blue eyes,” Meara added.
“You’re right. They were. Bold and blue, like Eamon’s, come to think of it.”
“Or his father’s,” Branna pointed out. “In Sorcha’s book she writes her son has his father’s eyes, his coloring.”
“You think it was Daithi,” Connor considered, “or representing him. He might be given that form to be near his children, protect them as best he can.”
“I hope it’s true,” Iona said quietly. “He was killed riding home to protect them.”
“The hart that might have been Daithi’s spirit guided us toward the light, and the light was Eamon. Three years in his time since we last met. He was taller, and his face fined down as it does when you’re passing out of childhood. He’s a handsome lad.”
Now he grinned at Meara.
“He’d say that, as I told him they favor each other. Different coloring to be sure, but you’d know they’re kin.”
“He thought Meara was Aine—a gypsy,” Connor explained. “One who’d passed through some time before, and told him they’d see home again.”
“That’s interesting. You have gypsy in your heritage,” Iona pointed out.
“I do.”
“And Fin named the filly he chose for Alastar Aine.”
“I thought of that, and take it doesn’t mean I resemble a horse.”
“Of great beauty and spirit,” Fin pointed out. “The name was hers—I never considered another. It was who she was the moment I saw her. Sure it’s interesting, the connections, the overlaps.”
“It’s that I felt nothing while we talked, there outside the cottage. Nor did he,” Connor considered. “We asked after family. I told him of the shadow spell. And it was when he asked if we’d come inside that it happened. One minute I felt nothing, then I felt him there. Just there an instant before the wolf leaped out of the air. And he felt it as well.”
“You spun around together, like one person,” Meara added. “It was all so fast. Connor pushed me back behind him, but it wasn’t me, it was the boy, he wanted.”
“And so she pushed Eamon aside, exposed herself, and swung the sword. Not even a second, no time to throw out a block of any kind. He rammed her full, clawed her. Her blood and his in the air. The hound charged. Eamon and I joined, and the girls rushed out. It was they who threw a block, stopping me from rushing forward, throwing what they had at him, so it was me who joined with them as there was nothing else to do in those few seconds. What we had was enough to give him pain, with Kathel, Roibeard, and Alastar going at him along with us. He screamed like a girl.”
“Hey!”
He managed a grin at Iona. “No offense meant. Between us and Kathel, Alastar’s hooves and Roibeard’s talons, he went as he’d come. Gone, vanished, leaving only the stench of hell behind him. And Meara bleeding on the ground. And not two minutes, when I look back calm, not two minutes between.”
“They’ve all been short, haven’t they? Something to consider,” Branna said. “It may be he only has enough power for those short bursts with this spell.”
“For now,” Fin added.
“For now is what we have. He hitched onto Connor’s dream, slithered into it to try to get the boy—or one of the sisters if they’d greeted you, Connor. He can’t get into the house, but into a dream, once you’ve moved out of its protection . . . I can see this. He can’t get to them in that time, in that place, but could link to the dream to go there.”
“Where the boy would’ve been vulnerable,” Fin added, “in the half world of active dreaming. Then Cabhan waits on the edges of it, waits to attack—until you turn your back.”
“Bloody coward,” Boyle muttered.
“You said Meara spilled his blood. Where’s your sword?” Branna demanded.
“At home. I never brought it here. ’Twas just in my hand in the dream.”
“I’ll go get it,” Fin said. “Where do you have it?”
“It’s on the shelf in the closet in my bedroom. I’ll get you the key to the flat.” When he only smiled, she sat back again. “Which you don’t need at all, do you? Which is a thought that never occurred to me. Any of the four of you could walk right in as you please.”
“I’ll bring it. It won’t take but a few moments.”