"If they want to spend time in the world, they can help defend the world," Ashk said coldly.
An uneasy silence settled around the table until Padrick finally cleared his throat. "There might be another problem with the Fae's presence in those southern counties. I've gathered that their. . . manners . . . haven't made the humans think well of them. The barons may not accept the Fae being among their people."
"They'd better accept it if they don't want to be outnumbered and crushed in a battle," Ashk snapped. Then she relented. She'd heard enough over the years about how the Fae dealt with humans in other parts of Sylvalan to understand why the humans wouldn't trust the Fae, even to fight a common enemy. "All right. We'll head for the southern end of the Mother's Hills first to convince the barons there to accept us as allies. Letters from you might ease things."
"You'll have them."
They talked for another hour, but it was more to confirm the things she and Padrick had already decided. A meeting of all the western barons would take place in Breton in a few days. Ashk had sent out the call to all the western Clans to have some of the huntsmen from each Clan join her. Now she'd divide those men, sending some to the northern end of the Mother's Hills and some to the south—and some would go to Willowsbrook. She hoped Baron Liam was as open-minded as Padrick thought. Based on what she knew about the Fae beyond the west, Liam and his people were about to meet something they hadn't seen before.
The meeting concluded, they'd all risen to stretch their legs and get something to eat when Ashk noticed the woman standing far enough away not to intrude on their discussion, but just as obviously waiting for her attention.
As Ashk walked over to meet her guest, tension tightened her shoulders.
"Blessings of the day to you, Lady Ashk," the woman said.
"Blessings of the day, Gwynith," Ashk replied. "Forgive my being blunt, but I've a long journey ahead of me and much to do before I go. What brings you here?"
"I'll be heading for the midlands myself come morning," Gwynith said. "I came down this way to tell you."
Ashk frowned. "A Lady of the Moon doesn't need to tell me her plans to travel."
"That's why I had to tell you. All the western Clans have heard the Hunter's call, and we've heard about the Black Coats, so I had to tell you because I don't know how this might change what you need to do."
"What are you talking about?"
"Dianna's power is waning." Gwynith frowned. "No, not waning, exactly, but there's a. . . challenger. . . and those of us who share the gift of the moon are being drawn together to find out who will ascend to become the new Lady of the Moon—and the Huntress."
Ashk said nothing for a moment. She didn't approve of Dianna or the Huntress's refusal to do anything to protect the witches and the Old Places, but at least she was a familiar adversary. A new Huntress . . . Gwynith was right. For good or ill, this could change things. "Then I wish you well."
Gwynith shook her head. "I'm not the one. I feel the call, so I go to bear witness, and to offer my pledge of loyalty to the one who commands my gift. But I wanted you to know, if I have to choose between the Huntress and the Hunter. . . You need only ask, and I'll do whatever you need."
Knowing Gwynith could be stripped of her power if she defied whoever became the Lady of the Moon, Ashk said, "Let's hope you don't have to make that choice."
Chapter 2
"You don't have to do this."
Selena stopped packing the toiletries she'd set out on the dressing table to take with her on the journey, looked into the mirror, and met her younger sister's woodland eyes. "Yes, I do."
"You don't owe them anything."
Selena struggled not to smile. So fierce, so protective. Rhyann had always been that way, willing to hurl insults—or sticks and clods of dirt when words weren't sufficient—in defense of a sister who was different, who wasn't even a real sister by birth.
What she wouldn't tell this sister of the heart was that it was Rhyann's loyalty and love that was as much a spur to making this journey as her own needs.
"No, I don't owe them anything." Selena turned to face the young woman who had been a touchstone during the storms in her life. "I'm not doing this for the Fae, Rhyann. I'm doing it for myself. The moon calls. I can't escape its pull any more than the sea can. There's a power in me waiting to be released, filling me until it's become everything. I could celebrate that rising alone, but I think I need to do this by the Fae's customs. This time I need to stand among them."
"Why?" Rhyann asked, her voice worried and a little plaintive.
Selena sat on the dressing table stool, then waited for Rhyann to settle on the corner of the bed. "Do you believe what the storyteller, Skelly, told us when he came traveling this way? Do you believe there are men called Inquisitors who have made it their work to kill witches and destroy the magic in the Old Places?"
Rhyann nodded reluctantly. "It's hard to deny what he said when the wind tells the same tale. Every puff of air that comes from the east brings sorrow and anger and fear—and a feeling of malevolence that rejoices in the sorrow . . . and especially in the fear."
"Do you believe it was the Fae Lord of Song, the Bard himself, who brought that news and the warnings to Skelly's village?"
Rhyann shrugged. "That makes no difference."
"Yes, it does." Selena leaned forward. "It means there are some Fae who haven't forgotten who and what the House of Gaian is. It means there are some Fae who care about more than themselves. If they have finally been stirred to care, can we sit in our villages here in the Mother's Hills and do nothing?"
"No one has said we'll do nothing!" Rhyann snapped.
Selena stared at her sister, no longer really seeing her. "I've been having dreams since the Solstice. They've been getting stronger and stronger. I'm standing in a meadow I've never seen before, and there, in the center of it, the grass is greener, richer. Somehow, I float above it, and I can make out the shape of a stag. When I float back down, my bare feet touch that spot, and I feel the vibration of thousands of feet marching in step. I breathe in and choke on the stench of blood and death. I walk a little ways away and drink from a pool of clear water—and gag on the thick taste of gore that chokes the stream that feeds the pool. And I hear a heartbeat, slow and big, and I know that the woods has come alive. It hears. It sees. And it's coming toward the Mother's Hills. Then I'm surrounded by moonlight, filled with moonlight, and I know I can't stop whatever is in the woods from coming here, can't change its coming. But I can become strong enough to meet it."
Rhyann tipped her head to one side. "What happens then?"
"What?"
"In the dream. What happens?"
"I—" Selena pressed her lips together. Two shadow hound bitches racing through moon-bathed woods, racing toward a common enemy—a shadowy male figure standing in the center of a high, wide circle of female corpses. "I don't remember." She rubbed her hands over her face. Mother's mercy, she was tired. "I have to go, Rhyann. Succeed or fail, I have to try. This power inside me won't let me be unless I try."
"I'm going with you."
Selena let her hands fall into her lap. "No, you are not. I've already had this discussion with Father. I don't need an escort. It's better if I go alone."
"It's better if we travel together for a while. Father won't worry as much."
A chill ran through her, making her voice sharp. "What are you talking about? You're not going anywhere."
"I've reached my majority," Rhyann replied, equally sharp. "I can do whatever I want without asking anyone's permission." She sighed. "If we're willing to believe that the Bard cares for more than the Fae, isn't it possible that the Lady of Dreams also cares?"