When she went down, she noted he’d put the kettle on, and already had coffee waiting for her.
“You’ll think you need to cook up breakfast for the lot of us,” he began. “We can fend for ourselves.”
“It keeps my hands busy. If you want to fend, scrub and chip up some potatoes. You’ve skill enough for that.”
They worked in silence until the others began to straggle in.
“Looks like a full fry’s coming,” Connor commented. “But a damned early hour for it. Had an adventure, did you?” he said to Fin.
“You could say it was.”
“But you’re okay.” Iona touched his arm as if checking for herself.
“I am, and also clever enough to turn over the duty dropped on me here to Boyle, who has a better hand with it.”
“Nearly all do.” Boyle shoved up his sleeves and joined Branna.
With the air of anticipation hanging, they set the table, brewed tea, made the coffee, sliced the bread.
When all were settled at the table, all eyes turned to Fin.
“It’s a strange tale, though some of it we know from the books. I found myself riding Baru at a hard gallop on a dirt road still hard from winter.”
He wound his way through it, doing his best to leave out no details.
“Wait now.” Boyle held up a hand. “How can you be so sure Cabhan didn’t reel you into this? The wolf attacked you, went for your throat, and our Branna couldn’t get through to help you, or to bring you back. It sounds like Cabhan’s doing.”
“I took him by surprise, I can swear to that. The wolf came at me only because I was there, and might interfere with the murder. If Cabhan had wanted to do me harm, why not lie in wait, and come at me? No, his aim was Daithi, and my coming into it something unexpected.
“I couldn’t save him, and thinking over it all, was never meant to save him.”
“He was a sacrifice,” Iona said quietly. “His death, like Sorcha’s, gave birth to the three.”
“He had eyes like yours, bright and blue. I could see, when I could see, how brave and fierce he fought. But no matter that, no matter what I could bring to help, nothing could change what was done. Cabhan’s power was great, more than he has now. Sorcha dimmed that power, though he healed. I think now some of the hunger that drives him is to gain it all back again. And to gain it, he must take it from the three.”
“He never will,” Branna said. “Tell them the rest. I only know a little of it.”
“Daithi fell. I thought I could heal his wound, but it was too late for that. He drew his last breath almost as soon as I put my hands on him. And then she came. Sorcha.”
“Sorcha?” Meara set down the coffee she’d started to drink. “She was there with you?”
“We spoke. It seemed a long time there on the bloody road, but I think it wasn’t.”
He went over it, word by word, her grief, her remorse, her strength. And then the words that changed so much inside him.
“Daithi? You come from him, your blood is mixed with his and Cabhan’s?” Shaken, Branna got slowly to her feet. “How could I have not known? How could none of us have known? It’s him you carry, it’s him and what’s in you that beats back Cabhan at every turn. But I didn’t see it. Or wouldn’t. Because I saw the mark.”
“How could you see what I myself couldn’t see in me? I saw the mark and let that weigh as heavy as you did. Heavier, I think. She knew, as she said, she knew, but didn’t believe or trust. So I think she brought me there, to see what I would do. That last test of what burned strongest in me.”
He reached in his pocket. “And in the end, she gave me this.” He opened his hand, showed the brooch. “What she made for him, she gave to me.”
“Daithi’s brooch. Some have searched for it.” Branna sat again, studied the copper brooch. “We thought it lost.”
“The three guides as one.” When Connor held out his hand, Fin gave him the brooch. “As you’re the only among us who can speak with all three. It was always yours. Waiting for you, for her to give it to you.”
“She sees Daithi die every night, she told me. Her punishment for the curse. I think the gods are harsh indeed to so condemn a grieving woman. Blood and death, she said, as you did, Branna. Blood and death follow, and so she gives us—all of us here, and her children—her faith. We must end him, but not for revenge, and I confess revenge rode high in me before this. We must end him for the light, for love, and all who will come from us. She said love had powers beyond all magicks, then sent me back. She said, ‘Go back to her,’ and I woke with you weeping over me.”
Saying nothing, Branna held out a hand to Connor, then studied the brooch. “She made this for love, as she did what the three wear. It’s strong magick here. And as we do, you must never be without it now that it’s given to you.”