Slowly, slowly, she started to gain awareness again. Ivor lay on her, collapsed against his chest, his face in the pillow next to her head. His breath came in deep, shallow waves.
“Ivor?” she whispered.
Ivor grunted and rolled. The detachment was a strange feeling, and Eithne found herself missing him inside her. He didn’t pull away but moved onto his back and pulled her into his arms. Eithne rested her head against his bare chest while his hands worshipfully stroked her hair.
“Eithne,” he muttered like a man at prayer. “Are ye all right? I didnae hurt ye, did I?”
She found herself laughing, feeling something close to joy for the first time since that terrible night. “Oh, Ivor,” she muttered, pressing her lips against his chest. “Ye’re perfect. Truly perfect.”
He chuckled and held her tight.
Like that, safe and warm in each other’s arms, the pair of them finally drifted off to sleep.
* * *
“Ennie?” a voice asked.
Eithne opened her eyes. She was in a garden somewhere, a field of flowers around her. She wore a white dress that perfectly matched the daisies’ petals, and the sun shone from the sky without a single cloud.
Am I dreaming, then?
“Ennie,” the voice said more insistently. She turned around, and there he was – her brother, her dear Killian, kneeling next to her and smiling.
She threw her arms around him. She knew now for sure that it was a dream, but she didn’t care – anything to see her dear brother one last time. “I’m sorry,mo bhràthair,” she cried. “I’m so sorry. I wanted to help ye. I didnae want to leave ye, I didnae…”
“Hush, ye silly lass,” Killian told her soothingly. “Ye did all ye could and more. Ivor found ye, did he?”
She nodded, staring at him with tears openly running down her face. The two of them looked so alike – except for Killian’s eyes. Those were her mother’s eyes. “Why did ye never tell me about him?”
“Lots of reasons,” Killian replied. “Partly because Ivor always valued his privacy. Partly because I was too jealous to share me friend, and partly because I wasnae ready to say goodbye to ye yet.”
“Goodbye tome?” Eithne asked, surprised. “Why on earth would that be the case?”
Killian chuckled but didn’t answer. “He’s a fine man, is he nae? Stick with him, Eithne. He’ll be good for ye.”
“I’ll try,” she promised. “But…oh, Killian, what am I meant to do without ye?”
“Stay with Ivor. Go find Myrna,” Killian told her. “Remember that me and our mam and our da are always gonnae be with ye, as is the whole clan, nae matter what happens.”
“And what about when we find Myrna and the MacDonnells? The clan’s gone. Our family is gone. What do I do then?” Eithne asked, desperately hoping that he’d have an answer.
But Killian was fading, leaving her alone in the field now. Just before he disappeared entirely, he gave her his final instruction. “Ye must do what ye’ve always done, me darling sister. Ye must live.”
She shot awake, gasping. Daylight was streaming through the window.
A dream. Just a dream.
Eithne gathered her breath and turned to the side, ready to wake Ivor so that they could continue on the next leg of their journey. But to her surprise, when she looked, she was alone in the bed.
Ivor was gone.
Chapter Eight
The Dress
Ivor was humming to himself, and when he realized, he stopped still. He didn’t remember the last time he’d done such a thing. Though part of his soul still ached with the loss of his friend, a part of him was glowing with a new blossoming feeling that he dared not name.
Is this because of Eithne? I cannae let meself get carried away.
