Mairwen tipped her head toward the door. “Go, Keeva. I know ye meant well, but ye need to think upon how everyone has been affected by this. The Veil is in fine fettle at the moment. The next bond can wait a bit longer.”
Head bowed and cheeks red with embarrassment, Keeva handed her tablet to her brother Killian and hurried out.
It was time to take control and remedy this chaos. Mairwen felt it as surely as if her mothers had nudged her to rise from the chair. She stood, determined to reclaim her strength and fulfill her calling. “Notify the Defenders of every era, every world, every reality. For whatever reason, Weavers could not find her. By the goddesses, it is my hope that the Defenders can.”
“If Weavers and all our resources could not find her,” Taskill said, “what makes ye think the Defenders can? They are mere mortals.”
“Because something has changed now that Emily has found her mate. I feel it.”
“And the goddesses?” Malcolm asked.
“I shall seek an audience with them, as soon as they will allow it.”
Chapter 9
“They do not have to keep doing that,” Emily said to Inalfi as they crossed the great hall. It bustled with servants preparing the long rows of trestle tables for the evening meal. As soon as they came within a few feet of any maid or scullery lad, the servant stopped whatever they were doing and bowed low until Emily acknowledged them. “I want to learn everyone’s name, but this bowing stuff needs to stop. It’s just me. It’s not like I’m royalty or anything.”
Inalfi eyed her in disbelief, then huffed. “It is not just yerself, m’lady. Ye are the chieftain’s one, his blessed wife, and we have none of us ever seen him so contented. We wish to serve ye well and honor ye because of that.” She leaned in close and lowered her voice. “Mrs. Thistlebran said she thought she saw him smile just the other day. Himself never smiles. Especially not when Queen Nicnevin is here.”
The strongest sense of happy Emily had ever known washed across her. Others had noticed Gryffe’s contentment, so it had to be real. That reassured her more than it probably should, but she couldn’t help it, especially since she still struggled with bouts of homesickness for family, friends, and even the conveniences of the world she had left behind. It relieved her to know his love for her was just as solid as what she felt for him. This deep connection they shared went both ways, just as it should, even though it was still a little unbelievable. They had known each other for such a short time, at least as far as this lifetime was concerned.
She almost laughed. How many times had she tossed aside a romance book before finishing it, claiming the insta-love factor was too silly to swallow? But this feeling was undeniable. She loved Gryffe completely. From the depths of her soul, she felt as though she had loved him all her life, and all her many past lives too. It was both wonderful and frightening.
“M’lady?” Inalfi cleared her throat, interrupting Emily’s inner dialogue.
“Sorry. I am still trying to wrap my mind around everything that’s happened in such a short time.” She slowly shook her head. “I believed it easily enough when it happened to my friend Jessa, but it’s harder to believe now that it’s me.”
“Love keeps to no timetable, m’lady. It does as it will. Best remember that.”
“It most definitely does.” Emily paused at an archway to the labyrinth of hallways and looked back at the expansive meeting room with its massive twin hearths, weaponry wall, and tapestries of the clan’s more memorable battles hanging from the upper gallery’s bannister. MacStrath Keep was impressive, but also easy to get lost in with its many levels, hallways, and multiple turrets. Thankfully, Inalfi didn’t seem to mind coming with her until she learned her way around.
Mrs. Thistlebran charged out of one of the hallways, calling out as she careened around the corner, “Lady Emily! Come quick! Queen Nicnevin swears this is meant for ye.”
“Swears what is meant for me?” Emily caught up her skirts and ran after the plump housekeeper who moved amazingly fast for a lady of her size and years. “Wait! Mrs. Thistlebran, wait! Tell me what’s going on.” It couldn’t be good if Gryffe’s mother was at the center of it. After getting to know Nicnevin better, Emily understood why Gryffe felt the way he did about the Dark Queen.
“She’ll not listen, m’lady,” Inalfi shouted from behind her. “Not when she is in such a stir.”
“This better be a valid stir.” Emily silently cursed the yardage of petticoats and wool skirts that made something as simple as running a lot more difficult than it should be. But as soon as she chased the housekeeper out into the cold, snowy garden, she was a little more thankful for all the layers.
A line of men armed with spears, swords, and long rifles had something cornered against the farthest stone wall, and whatever it was ripped the air with a loud, feral scream, reminding her of the great wild cats of the jungle documentaries her brothers had always adored.
Nicnevin stood between the men and the animal. She towered over them, stretching herself to a chilling, neck-breaking height meant to back them up and strike fear into their hearts. “Leave the beast alone,” she commanded, her voice echoing like thunder. Then she caught sight of Emily and motioned her forward. “It is about time. Grimalkin needs ye to convince these fools she means those of this clan no harm. She has only come to serve ye.”
Emily hurried forward, pushing her way through the men. “What is a Grimalkin?” She came up short as she spotted the fearsome beast. Huddled in the corner of the skirting wall was a tiny black kitten with a patch of white shaped like a diamond on its chest. She turned on the men. “You should be ashamed of yourselves. You’re scaring that poor little kitten to death.”
“Poor wee kitten?” One of the guards, whose name she couldn’t remember, sputtered and spat while pointing a spear at the tiny cat. “If Himself catches us letting that Fae panther stay in the garden, ’twill be all hell to pay for certain. Step back, m’lady. Please. I beg ye. Ye must be kept safe for the good of the clan.”
Emily shook her head at the man calling the kitten a panther. It looked barely old enough to be weaned from its mother. “Come here, kitty. I know they’re scary. They don’t mean to be.” She crouched, scooped the tiny feline up, and cuddled it close.
The kitten immediately rewarded her with a song of deep, vibrating purrs.
“Come on,” she told it, thrilled with the little beastie. “Let’s get you something to eat. I bet Cook can spare a saucer of cream or something.”
“Inside the keep, m’lady?” Mrs. Thistlebran seemed oddly horrified as she teetered back a few steps.
Suspicions increasing, Emily turned to Inalfi and then to Nicnevin. “What am I not seeing here? Why is everyone afraid of a harmless little kitten?”
Nicnevin beamed at her, appearing proud as a mother hen. “Why, there is nothing amiss at all, Lady Emily. Grimalkin came all the way from the kingdom to stay at yer side and offer ye her protection. She already loves ye, and her loyalty is unquestionable.”
