Lucian paled, staggered back a step. There was fear in his eyes now. "You couldn't."
"Oh, but we could. As I will. . ." Breanna let the words hang in the air. "I suggest you go back to your own world, Fae Lord, and let us be."
"I'll make sure he gets there," Liam said quietly. Turning away, he mounted Oakdancer and waited.
Lucian stared at Falco, his expression cold and bitter. "You've made your choice, Falco. Don't come crawling back to us when she turns on you. Her kind will always turn on you."
He walked back into the woods, Liam following on Oakdancer.
Breanna watched them disappear into the trees. If the Lightbringer turned on Liam, would her brother be able to protect himself? Had she been a fool to make an enemy of so powerful a Fae Lord?
"Breanna?" Falco said softly. "Breanna, you're shaking."
"It's not every day I threaten the Lightbringer," Breanna snapped. "I'm entitled to shake." But facing down the Lord of Fire wasn't the reason she was shaking. If something happened to Liam because of it, how could she expect Elinore to understand and forgive her? How would she be able to forgive herself?
Falco cautiously reached over and tugged the bow from her hand. "Come sit down on the bench under the tree. Can you walk that far?"
There was something queer and strained in Falco's voice, but she couldn't think about that yet. Her legs didn't feel like she had any bones left, and she really did need to sit down. She didn't argue when he cupped a hand under her elbow to help her walk.
"Do you want some water?" Falco asked once she was sitting on the bench.
Breanna studied him. He'd been nervous when the Lightbringer showed up. He looked terrified now. "What's wrong?"
"Breanna . . ." Falco looked away. A shudder went through him before he regained control and looked at her again. "Breanna, could you really do that?"
Breanna's attention was caught by seeing Clay and Rory. They'd been hurrying toward her before Liam galloped up to stand beside her. They'd probably held back to remain unnoticed while she held the Lightbringer's attention.
Clay lifted a hand and tipped his head toward the woods, turning the gesture into a question.
If she asked Clay or Rory to follow Liam, would she be putting another person she cared about in danger? She shook her head, then watched the two men head for the house to report to Nuala.
"Breanna? Could you do that?"
Confused by the question, she turned back to Falco. "Do what?"
"Could the witches really close the shining roads and leave the Fae trapped there? Could they really destroy Tir Alainn?"
"How should I know?"
Falco sat next to her. Puzzled, he studied her. "You were bluffing?"
"It was a good bluff," Breanna said defensively. "It got him to leave, didn't it?" It was a good bluff only if Lucian doesn't retaliate by harming someone. "Hasn't he ever met a witch before?"
Falco shifted uneasily. "Ari. . . Ari wasn't like you. She was . . . she wasn't like you."
You and Jenny. . . you're . . . different. . .from the rest of us.
"I need to talk to Nuala," Breanna said, pushing herself to her feet. When Falco remained seated, she hesitated, then said, "There isn't anyone here who could do what I told Lucian we could do." But there may be some Mother's Daughters who live in the Mother's Hills who could do exactly that.
He didn't respond, so she walked back to the house. Alone.
Liam followed the Fae Lord through the woods. He hadn't liked the man on sight, and he might have dismissed that feeling as nothing more than a brother's natural reaction to seeing his sister confronted by a stranger. . . except Oakdancer was making it plain that he didn't like the man either. It couldn't be because the stranger was Fae. The bay stallion had been bred and raised by Ahern, who had been the Fae Lord of the Horse before he was killed in a fight with some Inquisitors. So it had to be something about this man the horse was reacting to.
He saw the golden light through the trees and knew they were close to the shining road the Fae used to reach this Old Place. When Falco had shown the road to him, Clay, Rory, and Breanna, he and the other two men had seen nothing more than a wide band of sunlight that looked a little more golden than usual. If he'd ridden past it on his own, he never would have known what it was. Breanna, however, saw it as thick, golden air. Still translucent, but definitely recognizable as something created, in part, with elements of the natural world but not part of the natural world. Then again, she'd already known where to find the shining road.
The Lord of Fire stopped in front of the shining road and turned to face him.
"Your sister is a fool to challenge the Fae."
"My sister is many things, but a fool isn't one of them," Liam replied coldly. "If she drew a weapon against you, she had a reason. If she threatened you and your people, she had a reason. And that is reason enough for me to stand with her and stand against you."
"We are the Fae," the man said angrily. "We are the Mother's Children."
"The Mother's spoiled children," Liam snapped. "Mother's mercy! In the next few weeks, we will all, most likely, be embroiled in a war against the Inquisitors and the eastern barons they control, and many good people will die in the fighting. We don't have time for a race that sits above it all in their lofty world and only comes down to our world to play games and amuse themselves. We don't have time for the temper tantrums of spoiled, useless children. So go back to your world and stay there. And stay out of our way."
The man's expression changed, his face now full of understanding. He raised his hands in an open, giving gesture. "I understand how it feels to care for a sister. I understand how it feels to want her to be safe and happy." His voice was deep, smooth, soothing. "Don't you want your sister to be safe? If she came to Brightwood with me, she would be safe. The Fae would protect her from all harm. She would be cherished . . . and safe."
Liam swayed a little as he stared into the Fae Lord's gray eyes and that voice wrapped around him. Safe. Yes, he wanted Breanna to be safe. There were nights when he had nightmares, when he saw again the things he'd thought were fever dreams during the days when Padrick, the Baron of Breton, had helped him get home after the Inquisitors had tried to kill him. There were nights when the nightmares were the same except that the faces belonged to women he knew—Breanna, Nuala, Fiona. Even his mother, Elinore. Yes, he wanted them to be safe. Wanted. . . With a little help, the Fae Lord could take them someplace safe, someplace . . .
"Don't you want her to be safe?" the Fae Lord said in that so-persuasive voice.
Oakdancer suddenly reared. Thrown off balance, Liam struggled to keep his seat. He felt strange, as if the world had been muffled for a moment and now reappeared with painfully sharp intensity.
That persuasive voice was still talking about safety, still promising to keep Breanna safe.
Persuasive. Persuasion. Wasn't that one of the Fae's gifts, the ability to use persuasion magic to convince people to do what they might not do otherwise? That bastard was using it on him in order to have Breanna, was using his own fear for her safety as a hammer against his will.
Liam's temper flashed. Heat flooded through him beneath his skin. He knew what it was now, knew he was drawing power from the Great Mother's branch of fire. The heat cleared his head, burned clean in his heart. When he looked at the Fae Lord, that voice was no more persuasive than the eastern barons had been at the council meeting when they'd tried to convince the rest of them to follow their example and vote for the decrees that would turn all of Sylvalan into a horror for every woman who lived there.