“Do the ones you visit know you’re there?” One of Emily’s greatest worries was that her family had become overwrought because they didn’t know what had happened to her. She wanted to reassure them, tell them she was all right, and somehow let them know about Gryffe. While she missed everyone with a vengeance, she hated the thought of making them unhappy and causing them pain. “Could I speak to my mother? Would she know it was me, really me?”
“’Tis hard to say, my lady. She might cling to it with the hope it was truly yerself, but then again, if she nay believes in such things, she might explain it away as just a wishful dream.”
That was Emily’s fear. Both her parents were extraordinarily pragmatic and down to earth. The only one she might convince was Jessa. If she could get anyone to believe it was her in the Dreaming, it would be her friend who had traveled back in time to find her own fated mate. She nodded to herself while idly scratching Grimalkin’s ears and walking faster. Yes. That’s what she would do. She would try to visit Jessa and have her explain everything to not only her parents but to the Weavers in Seven Cairns—the Seven Cairns she knew and loved and that knew and loved her back. Maybe then they would find a way to her so she could at least use the portals to visit those she had lost.
Then, life would be perfect.
Chapter 10
“Either I go with her into the Dreaming, or she does not go at all.” Gryffe stood his ground with his teeth bared and fists clenched, staring down his mother. Emily and Inalfi had gone on ahead, probably heading to the kitchens to get that feckin’ panther posing as a wee cat a saucer of cream. “Ye know how dangerous the place can be. I will not have her there unprotected.”
Nicnevin rolled her eyes. “I had no intention of simply dropping her in there like a bowl of scraps tossed onto the heap.” She patted her chest. “I am going with her. I shall keep her safe.”
“The hell ye will.”
His mother frowned. “Ye have become most petulant of late. I wouldha thought finding the other half of yer soul wouldha put ye in a better mood.”
“It does, except when someone suggests she do something dangerous.”
Nicnevin shook a finger. “It was not I, my son. It was Grimalkin.”
Gryffe unleashed a growl that did nothing to alleviate the tense knot of worry in his chest. “That feckin’ thing. And in my keep, no less.”
“She will protect Lady Emily and, someday, yer children. Ye know that.”
He decided to debate the Fae panther’s arrival later. After all, from the looks of it, Emily had already decided that matter for him. “Be that as it may, whoever put the thought of the Dreaming into my dear one’s head, there will be no getting it out of her thoughts until she tries it. As I said, I am going with her.”
“Fine.” Nicnevin shrugged and tossed her hands in the air. “Take the entire clan, if ye wish, but I am sure Lady Emily wishes to go as soon as possible, so make certain everyone is ready by tonight at moonrise.” Head held high and her chin jutted even higher, the dark queen swept away as if she had grown tired of her Court and dismissed them.
Gryffe glared after her, clenching his teeth so hard his jaws ached.
“Yer dark-hearted mother makes me arse twitch,” Ferris said from behind him. “And was that a feckin’ Fae panther yer Lady Emily was toting?”
“According to Nicnevin, Grimalkin chose my dear one. The cat considers herself my Emily’s protector.” Gryffe turned and eyed his friend. “Hiding in the shadows?”
“I prefer the word lurking, and I do some of my best work in the shadows.”
“Indeed.” Gryffe glanced around, then lowered his voice. “Do ye wish to share yer news here or somewhere more private?”
Ferris tipped his silvery head toward the nearest door to the left. “Best step into the library. Did ye not once tell me ye placed wards in there that keep Nicnevin deaf to what is said?”
“Aye. Come.” Gryffe led the way, an ominous sense of dread taking root in his gut and squeezing like a poisonous vine.
Ferris swaggered into the room after him and closed the door. He studied Gryffe for a long moment before joining him in front of the roaring fire in the hearth. “The Weavers?—”
Gryffe held up a hand. “I know. Their frantic whispers reached my ears as well.”
“Be it yer Emily they search for? Is she their precious mortal that must be found at all costs?”
“I dinna ken.” He paced the width of the massive room lined with floor to ceiling bookshelves, and then he halted and scowled at Ferris. “Ye would not have known the place had ye been with us that day. It was Seven Cairns—yet somehow—it wasn’t.”
“What do ye mean it wasn’t?”
Gryffe shook his head. “It looked the same and all the folk knew me, but they nay spoke as the close friends and allies they have always been in the past. Their words were stilted. Formal. Devoid of all emotion.” He resumed pacing, beating the air with his hands as he walked. “And even though my Emily knew their names, called out to them with the heart of a friend, they denied knowing her.” He halted again and slowly turned to face his friend. “They thought her an Unseelie and demanded I take her away.”
“Seven Cairns is hallowed ground. Forbidden to the Unseelie.”
“Aye, I know.” Gryffe raked a hand through his hair. “The only reason they suffer my presence is because of my father and my oath to the Highland Veil.” He shook his head again. “But Emily has no Fae blood. Weaver ancestry? Aye, that she has, but nothing from the Fae—be they light or dark.”
