Pol nodded his agreement. It seemed the only reasonable possibility.
“That would increase the possibility that the man with her is Nuadian. She’s likely in great danger,” Dallyn murmured.
“Likely,” Pol agreed. “And it’s every bit as likely that Miss Porter is Colin’s Soulmate.”
“If you believe that, why didn’t you tell him?” Dallyn had hesitated before the question, obviously working to reason out the answer on his own.
“Precisely because I believe that, my friend. The Magic grows stronger and with great speed. It grows tired of waiting for us to reunite the broken Soul Pairings. Until we know what it has planned next, we have no choice but to prepare as best we can.” No choice but to prepare those who had been chosen as best they could be prepared.
Below him, Colin crossed the courtyard, his figure all but blending in with the shadows.
“When Colin is sent to the RoundHouse on the morrow, I want only waters from the Fountain of Souls to be used for his training. No dilution.”
“Begging your pardon, Highness. Do you think that wise?”
“Wise or not, I believe we’ve diverted this young man from the course set by the Magic for as long as we’re able.” Pol nodded to himself, continuing to watch the subject of their conversation disappear into the door of his quarters. “Make it so, General.”
Wisdom was no longer a consideration; only expediency mattered now. Colin would be leaving them soon, he could feel it. He wanted his young descendant fully prepared when he did go.
“Cautiously, of course,” he added, turning to meet his general’s gaze.
“Of course,” Dallyn replied.
He hesitated to voice his next request. Still, it was necessary. “Someone must go to the Temple of Danu to invoke the spirit of the Earth Mother. Perhaps General Darnee?”
“No.” Dallyn’s lips tightened, his face devoid of all emotion. “I’ll go. No one else should be involved. In case.”
“In case,” Pol agreed.
“And now”—Dallyn rose to his feet—“if you’ll excuse me, Highness, I’ve arrangements to make.” With a formal nod of respect, his general crossed to the door and let himself out.
Arrangements to make.
Pol smiled to himself, turning back to stare out over the empty courtyard. A most delicate way of putting it.
Though use of the Fountain’s waters was forbidden by the High Council and the Earth Mother herself, Pol had no doubt Dallyn would find a way.
His only doubt, in fact, was what effect those waters would have on Colin.
Eleven
If only the sun would chase away the dark, heavy clouds, it might yet turn out to be a decent day.
Abby shivered and pulled the zipper on her jacket all the way up to her chin, huddling into herself against the early morning chill. The rains had finally stopped early yesterday, but the clouds hanging low over the dig site looked ready to burst open at any moment. Summer in the Highlands.
“Okay, people. Gather round so we can go over today’s plan of action.” Mackenzie Lawrence tapped her pencil impatiently against the clipboard she held. “Comeon, people! Mr. Flynn doesn’t have all day for us to waste.”
Puh-leeze. Abby forced herself to stare at her own feet so that no one would see her eyes rolling in irritation. As if every single person out here this morning wasn’tevery bit as committed to this project as that annoying little harpy.
Like Abby, most of the others were so excited and grateful to have been chosen to participate in this dig, they’d all minded their manners and deferred to Jonathan Flynn’s every word.
Not Mackenzie. She’d quickly appointed herself their benefactor’s right-hand woman and clearly considered herself head and shoulders above the rest of them because she’d been working as some professor’s assistant for the past year.
Big frickin’ whoop.
Pretty pushy, in Abby’s estimation. Especially for an undergrad. Abby herself had no illusions that Ms. Lawrence knew more than any of the others. She didn’t. It was only that none of them—including Abby—worked so hard at trying to be in charge.
Or at kissing Jonathan Flynn’s butt.
