“There’s nothing to forgive, Shana.”
She lowered her eyes because those words flashed fire into them. “I would be friends again, if you’d have it.”
“Friends we were, are, and will be.”
She took a moment more before she looked up, put the flirt back in her eyes. “Sharing a bed with you is a very fond memory, for you’re skilled. I would invite you back into mine, but—” she said quickly, because she read refusal, rejection on his face, “I’m with Loren Mac Niadh now.”
“I’m glad of it,” he said simply, and enraged her. “He cares for you, and always has.”
“He does.” She toyed with one of the baubles at her ears, which Loren had given her. “And though I haven’t pledged to him, I will, I think. In time.”
“When the time comes, he’ll be fortunate. I wish you happy, Shana, in all choices. In all ways.”
“I know you do, and always have, so I’m only the more sorry for my angry words. I wish you the same, Keegan. Are you happy?”
“I’ll know true happiness when peace holds in Talamh.”
“So speaks the taoiseach.” She used a smile with those words, though they lay bitter on her tongue. “But is Keegan happy? I’m told you’ve a taste now for red hair.”
When he looked blank, she felt a rise of hope. “The O’Ceallaigh’s daughter. The one you brought with you from the valley. She’s a quiet one, and some say the quiet ones hold the most fire.”
“She’s not always quiet, but she holds fire enough for any. She needs more time and more training, and neither of us can waste that time on …flirtations.”
“Ah well. From what I know”—she tapped a finger to his cheek— “she doesn’t suit you. But I wish you happy, Keegan, whatever and whoever brings it to you.
“A kiss to seal it,” she added before laying her lips softly on his. Sighed. “And an admission that I’ll miss finding you with me in the dark. Blessed be, Keegan.”
As she glided back inside, she flicked a quick glance upward and congratulated herself on her timing when she saw Breen standing on the terrace of her room.
She wouldn’t need to trick Kiara into gossiping about a tryst between herself and Keegan now. The woman she fully believed stood in the way of all she wanted had seen for herself.
Keegan didn’t get the ale or the fire. As a falcon arrived with reports from the south, he called a council meeting.
“Time’s short before the final preparation for the Leaving,” Tarryn told him as a few helpers scrambled to set cups and pitchers of water on the council table.
No spirits were consumed during council meetings, though by the gods, Keegan thought, that’s when he wanted them most.
“Everything is at the ready, Ma, and this won’t take long.”
“You’ve yet to wash off the travel dust and change.”
“I was detained. No more fussing now.” He gave her an absent pat on the arm before he walked to the window he’d opened so he could breathe.
“Until the council convenes, I’m just your ma, and my boy is tired.”
“So’s my ma, isn’t she? So let’s make this quick and done.”
Minga entered first, along with the representative from the Trolls. Bok wore a black band in honor of his granddaughter, who’d fallen on the beach in the south.
The others came quickly enough, talking and muttering among themselves as they entered the room with its murals and map of Talamh, its tapestries depicting all the tribes of the Fey.
Each stood behind the tall chair of their place at the long table. Keegan escorted his mother to hers at one end, then strode to his at the head.
“Greetings and blessings, and my thanks to all for their counsel.”
When he took his seat, the others followed suit. “We ask, as always, for wisdom in all choices made here, and that all choices strengthen the peace of Talamh and all who dwell within it.”
“So ask we all,” the council answered.
With that formality done, Keegan held up a hand. “I know there’s much to discuss, but the time is short before the Leaving. Tomorrow is for the Judgment, and the Welcome. Between those duties, we will meet again. But I’ve asked you to come now for only this. The battle in the south is won, but at great cost. Every life leaving us is a cost to all. More, a great many more, would have been lost through the treachery hiding behind robes and folded hands, for those who took our tolerance and forgiveness for weakness.”
“They will be judged for it,” Bok said.
“Aye, they will be judged. The Pious, as before in the dark past, used their Prayer House to hide their true purpose in false piety, and within walls deemed sacred and holy, tortured Fey, made blood sacrifice to Odran.”
He saw the flash and heat in Flynn’s eyes, and knew an ally in the friend of his father’s, and the representative of the Sidhe.
“Taoiseach.” Uwin, Shana’s elfin father, spoke up. “You cannot be certain of this.”
“I am certain of it. As the child they stole and bespelled and planned to offer to Odran will testify tomorrow. As I myself, in the guise of an old holy man, was to be offered.”
“For the stolen child, they must be judged.” Rowan of the Wise spoke up. “For bespelling her, they must be judged. But can there be judgment on what was not done, even through intervention?”
“This is for tomorrow. I say now and here, she would not have been the first. I tell you, in walking through that unholy place, I felt the deaths that came before, I heard the echoes of chants to Odran. This will not pass. This will not stand. And neither will stand the unholy place. It will be razed.”
“Taoiseach!” Uwin held up both hands. “This strikes as vengeance, and justice rarely follows vengeance. Not all, surely not all, of the Pious took part in this.”
“Not all.”
“Then we must allow them their choices, their place of contemplation and good works.”
“If I may speak.” Tarryn did so, softly, as arguments erupted around the table. “We did not destroy the Prayer House in the valley where the Pious once lived, prayed, did those good works, then turned to persecution, blood magicks, torture. This was long ago, long before any here took first breath, but the Fey remember. The Fey forgave, and gave the Pious their place in the south. And in repayment for forgiveness, they used what remains of it, near the God’s Dance, near the graveyard where Eian O’Ceallaigh’s ashes lay, and the ashes of many loved and lost, to stir the spirits trapped within. The sacrificed, and those who sacrificed them. To stir them to walk free on Samhain, through the thinning veil.”
Neo, of the Mer, with legs given when called, fisted both hands on the table. “You’re sure of this?”
“The fates decreed I go there, see, hear, feel, as did Breen Siobhan, daughter of the O’Ceallaigh. I tell you without her, I would have needed a coven to break the spell—Yseult’s spell, strong with the help of the Pious. And I tell you that on Samhain, the Undead would have swept over the valley and beyond.”
She nodded at Minga. “Minga is witness to this.”
“I am. And though I am not Fey, though I haven’t the gift, even I felt the battle of power, dark and light. Even I saw the shadows taking form, clawing to get out.”
Rowan of the Wise spoke again. “The ruins must be cleansed.”
“More,” Tarryn said. “The spirits must be sent to the dark and the light. This will take time and power, but must be done. And the cleansing, and the sanctification, all of it.”
“We can do the same with the south,” Uwin began.
“They have twice turned on us.” Flynn’s voice whipped out. “Betrayed us, sacrificed innocents. Would we give them leave to do so again?”
“We will not. The walls come down, every stone. Vengeance, you say?” As his mother advised, Keegan let his anger free. “So be it, as it is justice as well. See!”