His life, he thought, would’ve been easier by far if she’d never come into it.
Then he sensed her, turned, saw her standing outside his bedroom door, that short halo of hair still damp from her shower, her eyes deep and a bit sleepy yet before her coffee.
And he knew without a shadow, easier wasn’t what he wanted.
“Should we talk?” she asked him.
“Probably so, but it’s a strange day for all that.”
“It is, yeah. Later’s better.”
He nodded. “After, yes. There’s a lot to be said after this day.” Get busy, he told himself. Get moving. “You’ll have coffee, won’t you?”
“Absolutely.” But she didn’t move to pour it for herself as she’d done before.
He’d done that, he knew, made her feel a guest again. Words wanted to be said, but he held them back, and would until this long, strange day was done.
So he got down a mug, poured it for her.
“Thanks. I’m going to go down, spend some time with Alastar. Do you have any problem with me riding him home today, keeping him there until it’s time?”
“I don’t, no. He’s yours after all. I’ll ride with you.”
“Actually, I think Fin will. He and Branna need to refine any details of the magicks with Connor and me.”
“All right, but you don’t ride alone.” Carefully, he touched a hand to her shoulder. “Are you afraid?”
“No. Not afraid. I thought I’d be revved, pumped, with some good, healthy fear mixed in. I’m just not, and not sure why. I feel almost unreasonably calm. Today’s what I’ve been working for, training for, learning for. And that was ordained, I guess is the word for it, on the night Sorcha sacrificed herself.
“We finish what she started. And then...”
When he said nothing, she sipped at her coffee. “And then,” she continued, “we do good work, we lead good lives. That’s enough for anyone.”
“Your work and your life are here.”
“Yes.” On that, at least, she had no doubts. “My place is here.”
“I’ll fix us up some breakfast.”
“Thanks, but I feel like I ought to be a little hungry, and... light for now. I’ll be down with Alastar until it’s time to go back home.” She set her coffee, barely touched, aside. “I needed you last night, and you were there. I won’t forget it.” She walked quickly to the door. “I’ll see you, an hour before moonrise.”
She slipped out the door and left him wondering over her.
***
SHE GROOMED ALASTAR CAREFULLY, THOROUGHLY SO HIS COAT GLEAMED LIKE PEWTER. Her calm remained as she brushed even the threat of tangles out of his mane, his tail.
Today he was a warhorse, and she believed that he, too, had prepared for this day all of his life.
“We won’t fail.” She circled around to his head, laid her hands on either side of his face and looked into his deep, dark eyes. “We won’t fail,” she repeated. “And we’ll keep each other safe as we do what we’re meant to do.”
She chose a saddle blanket—red for battle, for blood, then retrieved the saddle Boyle had given her.
She felt Alastar’s pleasure, his pride when she put the saddle on him. And she felt his courage, drew some of it for herself.
“There’s magick in a gift, and this was given to both of us. He thought of us when he had it made, so there’s more magick there. And last, it bears our names.”
She’d braid charms into his mane, she decided. When they got home she would choose ones for strength, for courage, for protection. And she would carry the same with her, under the sweater her grandmother had made. Another gift.
