“And still any assassin would have to get past our guards.”
“He could try for her on this side. Marg has a strong protection spell around the cottage, but he could try. On ours? It’s why a Were would be best. An owl coming through in the cloak of dark, a dog burrowing under the snow in the north.
“It’s how I’d do it, or try.”
When they reached the tree, Keegan swung onto a branch.
“Or the assassin’s already in Talamh, and she only has to find the way to get the poison to him.”
“Such as that living among us.”
With Keegan, he stepped through and into Talamh.
“More than one of them in our world.” Keegan looked out over the valley, the greens and golds waking under the soft dawn light. “And we’ll make them sorry for it before we’re done.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Keegan went to Harken first, found him in the kitchen already in his outdoor gear as he poured a cup of tea that looked strong enough to toss Harken’s prize cow half a league.
“Well now, in time for the morning milking.”
“I’m not, sorry. I need to speak with Marg but wanted to see you about it first.”
“There’s trouble.”
“There plans to be. Breen had a dream, a watching dream, of Yseult brewing up a potion and spell. She’s not all healed as yet, Breen says.”
“Dead would be better,” Harken said, and drank some tea.
“On our father’s honor, that day will come. Breen wrote it down, what she used in it, and the words she spoke.”
He handed the paper to Harken, so Harken set aside his tea and read.
His face went hard, his eyes to blue ice.
“Like the evil witch in the storybooks, she likes to devil children.”
“An archetype, isn’t she then? And it may be her and her like are the base of the stories.”
“It’s dark magicks she weaves, black as they come.”
“That I can see for myself, brother.”
“You need a shield against it. One that goes in as well as around. Aisling—”
“I know it’s superstition.” Keegan cut him off. “But I don’t want to take something so dark around her when she’s so close to the birthing.”
“No, superstition or not, you’re right there. A potion and a protective spell, I’m thinking. For the inside and the out, and the words to power both. She’s stronger than Yseult, is Breen, so Yseult crafted a spell wicked and deep to strike at her.”
“Not to kill, but worse. A living death, one filled with pain, so Odran can drink her dry. The pain? That’s Yseult’s revenge.”
“She’ll have a plan to use it.”
“Aye, and soon, I think, soon. What better time to strike than a time of joy? The solstice and Yule, a wedding, a birth.”
He took the paper back. “Shana carries Odran’s child.”
The hard anger on Harken’s face faded. “Ah, I’m sorry for it. Not for her, I can’t find it in me. She tried to bespell you, hurt a friend. She tried to take Breen’s life, and nearly did take the life of a young boy. She killed the man who loved her. The choices she made were hers.”