“All but shit my pants, girl. It was a damn close thing. You were— It was more than the other night. More than anything. You were practically on fire. You were that bright, that fierce. And the air’s spinning around, and the light’s pulsing, and … Whew. I’m gonna need more wine.”
“I don’t know where the words came from, Marco, but I knew them. I meant them. And what was in me? It was so strong, but it didn’t scare me. Because it was mine. Right after, I felt shaky, sort of like I did the first time I came through the portal. But that’s going now.”
“What do you feel like now?”
“Steady,” she realized, and held out a hand, nodded when it didn’t tremble. “Steady.”
“That’s my girl. Told you to wear that outfit, didn’t I? Kick-ass. And that’s what you did.”
She laughed, gulped some wine. “Yeah, the pants did the job.”
Deep in the woods, Keegan stood. Only his mother and Mahon remained now. He’d looked at the dark, listened to the howling wind through the portal he’d opened. As only the taoiseach had the power and the words to unlock it and seal it again. He’d seen that maw swallow the judged and the banished, and knew this was justice.
They could live in that dark world, but without magicks, without joy, without the peace and freedom Talamh offered all.
That, he thought, was the keen, cruel edge of justice.
They could live.
He held the staff, pulsing still from the energy called, but it had already begun to quiet. His mind, Keegan knew, would take longer to quiet.
He turned to Mahon. “Go home to your wife and children.”
“I go when the taoiseach goes.”
Keegan shook his head. “There’s no need for you to stay. What needed to be done is done. The rest, gods spare me, is bloody politics and formalities. The Welcome tonight, a full council meeting, and the open Judgment tomorrow. Take this time, brother, as I’ll want you with me when I go south to see to the razing.”
“Fly home.” Tarryn cupped Mahon’s face. “My daughter is strong, but a woman creating life welcomes a steadying hand. Take this time, as Keegan says, for we can’t know how much we have before Odran strikes again.”
“All right then. I can do some scouting on the way home. I can detour to the south and see how it’s holding.”
“We left Mallo and Rory overseeing the cleanup and rebuilding. That’s enough for the now. But you could take a swing to the north so we’re certain all’s well.”
“And so I will, and I’ll round back again if there’s anything you need to know. Well then, you’ll feast well tonight, that’s certain, but I’ve the better bargain by far, as I’ll be at my own table without having to put on the fancy.”
“Push my face into that, I’ll have you stay in my stead while I go home.”
“Too late for that. I follow the orders of the taoiseach. Blessed be.” He kissed Tarryn, gripped Keegan’s shoulder. Then, spreading his wings, he rose up and flew north.
“You asked him to scout north so he’d go willingly and without argument. This,” Tarryn said, tapping a finger on her son’s chest, “is politics and diplomacy.”
“I spared myself the headache, as I’ve one coming soon enough.”
“And what is this?”
“Let’s leave this place, walk in brighter air.”
As they did, he told her of his conversation with Breen that morning.
“Ah gods, the girl’s sly and selfish and has always been so.”
Keegan’s eyebrows shot up as he stopped short. “So, is it politics and diplomacy that had you holding that opinion back before this?”
“You visited her bed often enough in the last year or more, and as you’re a man grown, I held my tongue. And I’m fond, very fond, of her parents. It’s a pity, I think, they weren’t blessed with more children so they wouldn’t have had all this time and inclination to thoroughly spoil their only young.”
“I mean to speak with her about this.”
“Aye, you must. Have a care with this one, Keegan. Beautiful girls who grow into beautiful women who grow too used to having their own way can be vicious when denied. And as I’m done holding my tongue, that one has the vicious in her.”
“She’s no threat to me. And as all there saw clearly, by the gods, Breen Siobhan O’Ceallaigh can hold her own and more.”
“Have a care,” Tarryn repeated. “Revenge doesn’t always come at the end of a blade, it doesn’t always come hot. Sly and selfish finds ways to wound.” Then she sighed. “Ah, Uwin and Gwen would be humiliated by her behavior to Breen.”
“There’s no need for them to know of this. I’ll speak to her as, aye, that must be done. Then it’s done.”
Men, Tarryn thought, were so often naive when it came to women. But he was a man grown, and must learn such things for himself.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Because she had a plan, one she’d toyed with in the past then shut away, Shana went with Loren to his cottage after the Judgment.
They went on horseback, over the fields, and into the south edge of the woods near the village. And along the way, it seemed to her, Loren could speak of nothing else but Breen, and the sudden, unexpected power she’d displayed at the Judgment.
And why, she wondered, by all the gods why was she hampered by men who looked upon the redheaded slag as some sort of goddess?
“Perhaps you’d rather be riding with her,” Shana said, voice dripping sugar. “Sure I can turn around and go back, see if I can find her for you.”
Because he knew that tone, far too well, Loren turned to her. He let his heart come into his eyes. “There’s no one but you for me, Shana. No one my heart, my mind, my body and spirit crave but you. For the power I saw in Breen Siobhan, I’m grateful knowing she’ll be helping keep Talamh safe. And you. Most of all, you.”
And because he knew her, because he loved her, he said nothing more about Breen—or anyone but Shana.
“What will you wear tonight to enchant me and everyone who sees you?”
“If I told you, you might not be as enchanted.”
“You enchant me every day, every hour, every moment. No one in all the worlds is as fortunate as I, as you’ll sit with me tonight, and dance with me tonight, and be with me tonight.”
She smiled at him now, and meant it, as she knew he meant those words. He loved her, and that love was his weakness.
If only he’d been taoiseach, all would be perfect.
But he wasn’t, and as he had no ambitions to lead, never would be. How could she settle for the weakness of love without the power and standing she craved?
In some ways, he was more handsome than Keegan. Smoother, for certain, in looks and in manner. His clothes were fine and fashionable always.
She knew whether they walked, rode, or danced together, they made a striking pair.
And Loren enjoyed giving her pretty gifts, creating glittering jewels and rich fabrics for her with his alchemy. And he never tired, it seemed, of paying her pretty little compliments, giving her the whole of his attention.
But.
He lived in a quiet cottage in the woods, and didn’t possess the tower rooms of the taoiseach. He would never sit at the head of the council or have the people cheer for him.
Never would he sit in the Chair of Justice and punish her enemies.
And with him, she would never become the hand of the taoiseach, never have that power and sway.
Have it she would. One way or the other.
When they reached his cottage, she let him lift her from the horse, then linked her arms around his neck.
She knew genuine want when his mouth took hers. A skilled lover, he knew how to meet all her needs and stir more. When she and Keegan pledged, when they wed, she would keep Loren Mac Niadh with his soft, skilled hands as her lover. He’d fill her nights when the taoiseach had duties away from the Capital.