“Dreamed?” he whispered. She had spoken it so easily—almost as if it were normal. And he realized that to her, it might well have been. But the nature of dreaming was a rare, abnormal thing. Another oddity he wished not to share with these women.
Hirí continued, “They say this Vaich will live forever. That he will rule Cullach till the end of time.”
“What a sorry state of things, should he be a tyrant,” said the druid.
She laughed. “Youareclever. There have been all manner of kings over the ere. Some were brave… and some were cowards. Some lived through great moments, while others suffered terrible burden. They have risen, and they have fallen, but one thing they haveallshared—their reign was foretold by the Moon. Our voices are Hers, and through us she speaks the shape of the future. A future inherited by us all. My kin… your kin… all men and beasts of the wide green land. It is certain. It is promised.”
“It is wrong.”
Her smile did not shift. “The Moon does not speak without purpose. Thus, you must have one. It is why you still live, of course. The An’Atherin see it well as we. But they fear what we embrace. To them you are not opportunity… but challenge.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“Because…” She came before him like a spider in a killing dance. “I mean to warn you.Theywill do everything in their power to diminish you. To eradicate whatever risk you pose. They would subjugate you entirely rather than concede their control. Thus it has been for far too long.”
“So it was before me,” said the druid. “I care nothing for the ways of the west. Your politicking has gone on for centuries—”
“Yes, but we never hadyou,” she said, drawing nearer still. Unnerved, he willed himself to step back, but was stuck in place. “The Moon gives us the Sun’s king, but now she has given us a champion of our own. Forpurpose. A balance upon the scale.”
“Your ambition is misplaced. This war between your sects has nothing to do with me.”
“It haseverythingto do with you. And you are here, whether you wish it or not. But I would be your ally. I wouldnae see you caught in their web. Rather, I’d see you returned to your wilds, yourworld. And all your freewill restored. Your forests await, still. Would you not wish to walk there again?”
He eyed her, his thoughts distant.
“Yes,” she whispered, “it can all come true, exactly as you desire. Free from this ‘war’ as you claim. Free from man. And never to be caged, again. For that is the power of a king. And it could all be yours.”
Chapter nine
The Son
The hearth flames swelled in time with the Vaich’s slow breaths. He chewed his nail, his mind absent.
“That we entertain this deception a moment more is nothing short of blasphemy,” said Othrik. The curtains were drawn. The fire glowed vibrant. Skyre watched it, but did not see. “The Oracle should be put to the sword.”
“It isyouwho speaks blasphemy,” Medhin growled. “If we question her soundness, it will undermine Skyre’s claim.”
The two had been bickering for what felt like hours. Words like blades pressed against their throats, and yet they stood blindfolded.
“The woman gets on in her years. If her mind has gone, another seer can be put in her place.”
Skyre didn’t turn as he muttered, “Did she seemunsoundof mind to you?”
“My Vaich, it is clear she has lost her usefulness.”
The king straightened, glancing at the two of them over his shoulder. “And yet he is here. Just as she described. If it is not the Moon’s magick, then what is it?”
The priest scoffed. “A ploy. A scheme—!”
“You accuse the Moon Court of planting seeds of upheaval? With a blighted druid? EvenIcan see the absurdity in that. If they wanted to unseat me, they would have been more clever. No,” Skyre grumbled, “this was not their choice.”
“What matters is our answer,” said Medhin. “If we contest thisprophecyopenly, we will be on unsteady ground. We do not want them to doubt in tradition.”
“That wretch of a woman will have the peasants thinkinganyonemight be king! She is a nuisance,” said Othrik. “If she cannot be controlled, she must be removed. Who knows what she will make believe next!”
“Be quiet!” Medhin hissed.
The priest glared. “I urge you to recall your place,Matron.”
