“Aye.”Mairwen hated making the young one feelless,but the apprentice had to learn that unpleasant tasks should not be shirked or bartered off to others.It was far better to complete them and get them over with.She leaned back in the ornately carved, high-backed chair at the head of the table and fixed her gaze on the doorway, watching for the nine who completed the Council of Weavers and reported directly to the goddesses Bride and Cerridwen.
As per usual, Ishbel, Master of the Spell Weavers, arrived first with her favorite grimoire tucked in the crook of her arm.She swept off her bright purple and red cloak, giving a friendly nod as she draped it over her chair, then took her seat at the table.The Council’s long wooden table had served them well for untold ages under the protective magic of Seven Cairns.The amiable witch patted and smoothed her messy curls, but only made her rather unwieldy gray bun wilder rather than tamer.“Will we be matching both the lasses with their mates, then?A two for one binding this time?”
“That has yet to be decided,” Mairwen said.“The second one does not appear destined for the same place in time as the first.”
“More’s the pity, then.They are more sisters than friends.Reckon we can work out something to enable them to remain connected?The Veil’s weave thrives on many forms of love, ye ken?”
“We shall see.”Mairwen refused to get into particulars until the others arrived.
Shona, Master of the Tranquility Weavers, and Glennis, Master of the Dream Weavers, arrived next, chattering and talking over one another like a pair of cackling hens.Bedelia, Master of the Love Weavers, followed close behind, herding them along like a loving shepherdess.The three took their seats on Mairwen’s right.From this position, those of the light faced the tall arched windows on the eastern wall of the stone building that resembled an ancient seat of power more than a sleepy village’s meeting center.Most in Seven Cairns couldn’t recall when the goddesses had erected the structure.It had simply always been there.Mairwen had an inkling of when it came to be, but that was one of the many secrets the Master of all the Divine Weavers kept to themselves.
“It is my understanding that Killian is gathering the rest of our group,” she said in answer to the pointed looks at the empty seats on the other side of the table.Those chairs faced the wall of the room, which always found itself in shadows, no matter the time of day.
Ishbel rolled her eyes.“It is always the same.”
“It is always the same because our invitations are always extended last.”Malcolm, Master of the Conflict Weavers, scowled at them from the doorway with his twin sister, Darina, at his side, looking ready to defend him.
“That has been addressed,” Mairwen told him.“Please join us.There is much to discuss about this particular bonding.Darina, this meeting is restricted to those of the Council.”
Darina offered a sly grin.“I know.I simply wished to make ye say it.”She spun around and left the building, her smug chortling floating back to them through the open windows.
“Ye always say there is much to discuss,” said Taskill, Master of the Curse Weavers, as he entered the room and took his seat.“Shall we cut the theatrics and stick to the facts?There are presently many in need of cursing.”
“Once Flanna, Sadbha, and Graine arrive, we shall begin.”Mairwen focused on the doorway, ignoring Taskill’s fidgeting.It was always the same, Taskill in a hurry to go, and the last three dark ones late.
He drummed his fingers on the table.“Do we really need the Nightmare, Emptiness, and Hate Weavers this time?”
“Together, we make a whole, Taskill.Ye know that as well as I.”Mairwen smiled at those around the table.“We balance each other.Without the darkness, we cannot appreciate the light.Without the light, the darkness becomes nothing more than a void.”
“We are here,” Flanna, Master of the Nightmare Weavers, said as she swept into the room.Sadbha, Master of the Emptiness Weavers, and Graine, Master of the Hate Weavers, accompanied her.The three women took their seats at the table, all appearing less than interested in being there.
“I have visited the one called Jessa for several months now,” Flanna said.“Her strength against my nightmares is impressive.”
“Sadbha and I were also unable to maintain a suitable presence within her because of her friend,” Graine reported.
“The friend, the one called Emily, allowed you to manifest hatred for a while,” Sadbha told Graine, then shook her head, making her gleaming white braids sway from side to side.“But neither of them tolerated my emptiness.The skills of my Weavers will be of no use in this bonding.We could put ourselves to better use instead of sitting at this table and twiddling our thumbs.”
“Nevertheless,” Mairwen said, “yer perspective is valued and needed for balance—so says Bride and Cerridwen.”
“So says Bride and Cerridwen,” all at the table echoed.
Mairwen nodded for Keeva and Killian to bring in the tea, then smiled and patted the tarot deck.“As I already shared with Ishbel, the lasses due to arrive this evening are not destined to reside in the same age, which could prove troublesome since the two are more like sisters than friends.Ishbel asked if a special circumstance might be settled upon.I, too, would like to discuss that possibility since close friendship is a form of love and might help the Veil.”
“The male that the first one is to be matched with is due a curse,” Taskill said with a curt tip of his dark head.“Had he been more patient with his first wife and her addiction to the laudanum?—”
“His first wife was not his fated mate,” Bedelia said.“The Love Weavers cannot foster that which is not meant to be.He was kind to her and did not set her aside.She left him.The woman completed her destiny as it was written.”
“All mortals are to be valued.He placed little value on her and the time they shared.If he had, she might have stayed and overcome her weakness.”Taskill glared at the Master Love Weaver, squaring his shoulders as if ready to brawl.
“That is enough.”Mairwen waited for them both to cede without protest, knowing they would, because out of all the Weavers in existence, she possessed the most power and the closest relationship with the goddesses.Some even believed her to be a direct descendant of both Bride and Cerridwen, but she never confirmed or denied that rumor, preferring to earn their respect by her actions rather than her bloodline.“Grant MacAlester has endured curses enough by surviving eighteenth century Scotland after the Jacobite uprising.The war nearly decimated his clan before he was even born, and now he fights against the start of the clearances.Starvation and want have walked with him like a brother.Only now do his kith and kin flourish under his leadership and a smuggling operation he has honed to the sharpest efficiency I have ever seen.Is that not curses enough for ye, Taskill?”
“Many endured those bloody times,” Taskill said with a defiant scowl.“Because the Fates deemed it so.Not because of my Weavers’ curses.”
“He refuses the love of a wife or family.All he concerns himself with is the survival of his clan.”Bedelia’s eyes twinkled as she peered at the Master Curse Weaver over the rim of her teacup.She took a slow sip before continuing.“Could those things not be considered curses as well, depending upon one’s perspective?”
Mairwen watched Taskill, waiting as the Weaver came to his own conclusion.As one of the youngest masters, he tended to overthink things and took his time about doing so.But even her infinite patience had its limits, and she didn’t wish this meeting to last the entire day.“What say you, Taskill?Will you allow it and leave Laird MacAlester to his fated mate and the other Weavers?”
Nostrils flaring like a bull about to charge, Taskill snorted and threw up a hand, shooing away the unpleasantness of relinquishing power.“I will allow it—but only this once.”
