Page 7 of Shadow Spell

“And she has taken us in. We owe her respect in her home. But we are not in her home now, and she need not know. I need the light. I need to speak with you within our circle, where no one can hear.”

“I will cast it. I practice,” Teagan told her. “When Alastar and I ride away, I practice.”

On a sigh, Brannaugh ran a hand down her sister’s bright hair. “It’s good you do. Cast the circle,deirfiúr bheag.”

2

BRANNAUGH WATCHED TEAGAN WORK, HOW HER SISTERpulled light, pulled fire out of herself, gave the goddess her thanks as she forged the ring. A ring wide enough, Brannaugh thought, with amusement and with gratitude, to include Kathel.

“You did well. I should have taught you more, but I...”

“Respected Ailish.”

“And worry as well,” Eamon put in, “that if we use our power too much, too strong, he’ll know. He’ll come.”

“Aye.” Brannaugh sat on the ground, looped an arm around Kathel. “She wanted us safe. She gave up everything for us. Her power, her life. She believed she would destroy him, and we would be safe. She couldn’t know whatever black power he bargained with could bring him out of the ashes.”

“Weaker.”

She looked at Eamon, nodded. “Yes, weaker. Then. He... eats power, I think. He’ll find others, take from them, grow stronger. She wanted us safe.” Brannaugh drew a breath. “Fial wishes to wed me.”

Eamon’s mouth fell open. “Fial? But he’s old.”

“No older than Bardan.”

“Old!”

Brannaugh laughed, felt some of the tightness in her chest ease. “Men want young wives, it seems. So they can bear them many children, and still want to bed with them and cook for them.”

“You will not wed Fial,” Teagan said decisively.

“He is kind, and not uncomely. He has a house and farm larger than Ailish and Bardan. He would welcome you both.”

“You will not wed Fial,” Teagan repeated. “You do not love him.”

“I don’t look for love nor do I need it.”

“You should, but even if you close your eyes, it will find you. Do you forget the love between our mother and father?”

“I don’t. I don’t think to find such a thing for myself. Perhaps one day you will. So pretty you are, and bright.”

“Oh, I will.” Teagan nodded wisely. “As you will, as Eamon will. And we will pass what we are, what we have, to those who come from us. Our mother wanted this. She wanted us to live.”

“We would live, and well, if I wed Fial. I am the oldest,” Brannaugh reminded them. “It is for me to decide.”

“She charged me to protect you.” Eamon folded his arms across his chest. “I forbid it.”

“We will not quarrel.” Teagan snatched their hands, gripped hard. Flame shimmered through their joined fingers. “And I will not be tended to. I am not a babe, Brannaugh, but the same age as you when we left our home. You will not marry to give me a home. You will not deny what you are, ignore your power. You are not Ailish, but Brannaugh, daughter of Sorcha and Daithi. You are a dark witch, and ever will be.”

“One day we will destroy him,” Eamon vowed. “One day we will avenge our father, our mother, and we will destroy even the ash we burn him into. Our mother has told me we will, or those who come from us will, if it takes a thousand years.”

“She told you?”

“This morning. She came to me while I was on the river, in the mists and the quiet. I find her there when I need her.”

“She comes to me only in dreams.” Tears Brannaugh wouldn’t shed clogged her throat.

“You hold what you are so tight.” To soothe, Teagan stroked her sister’s hair. “So not to upset Ailish, so to protect us. Perhaps you only allow her to come in dreams.”

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