Children of the Moon 04 - Dragon's Moon

her.
    ’Twas for the best. Truly.
    Only, why was there pain when she was working so hard to save herself from it?
    A minute later she was joined by another of the Éan and she knew that despite Eirik’s disgust of her, he had been unwilling to leave a woman alone and unprotected outside at night.
    Ciara sighed. “Hello, Lais.”
    “Eirik sent me to stay with you until you returned to the keep.”
    Just as she’d thought, but why did the knowledge make her heart, that stupid organ that was supposed to be hardened to stone, twinge? “I’ve spent many an evening out here by myself.”
    “Does your laird know that?”
    Probably not, so she forbore answering.
    A shadow in the sky had Ciara turning her head. The dragon flew away from the keep, his dark scales barely discernable in the darkness. Her hand lifted involuntarily in a silent entreaty she was powerless to prevent.
    “He is amazing, is he not?” Lais asked.
    Amazing? Yes. Awesome. Incredible. And very, very frightening, but she was no longer sure that was merely because the huge creature could cast fire and end a man’s life in the span of a heartbeat.
    “He is very angry with me.”
    Lais snorted. “Oh, aye.”
    “It’s probably for the best.” She hadn’t meant to say that aloud.
    What was the matter with her? In a sennight, she had lost the control she’d fought so hard for these past seven years. She did not want these desperate feelings Eirik elicited in her. She would prefer not to feel at all, because emotions of that depth were dangerous…very, very dangerous.
    They frightened her as even his enraged beast could not do.
    “You think so?” Lais asked with apparent interest.
    She shrugged.
    “You remind me of the laird when you do that.”
    “We are not related by blood.”
    “I know.”
    But he called her daughter and she was too selfish and frightened to name him father. Eirik’s parting shot had pierced the armor around her heart and Ciara wanted to scream at him because of it. She gave as much as she could;she really did, but she would not risk ever feeling the kind of pain that had so nearly destroyed her seven years ago.
    Barr had suggested she leave her clan for a reason. Ciara had stopped eating the day she found her mother’s dead body. She’d stopped sleeping, too…and barely spoke.
    Abigail and Laird Talorc had coaxed Ciara back into life, such as it was. She owed them so much, but she could not give them unfettered love. She had none left inside her dead heart.
    Ciara did not wish to think what it would mean to her sanity if her heart was not as dead as she had believed.
    These thoughts got her nowhere. Instead of focusing on her own shortcomings or the unequal relationship she had with her adopted family, Ciara needed to turn her attention onto something else.
    “So, the dragon prince is your friend.” Right. Discussing Eirik was such a great improvement over thinking about him.
    Did she have no control at all over what came out of her mouth?
    “He accepted me when others questioned my motives, helped to heal me when I thought naught could so.”
    “With the Éan’s sacred stone?” Had her brother been right? Did the Éan still have possession of their sacred stone?
    Lais jerked as if startled. “What do you know of the Clach Gealach Gra ?”
    So it was called the moon’s heart stone. As fitting as the wolves naming theirs the wolf’s heart. And his words had certainly not been a denial of its existence.
    “I know only that each of the Chrechte peoples once had them.” She looked up into the sky, searching for a glimpse of her dragon. The dragon. Not hers . Never could Eirik be hers. “The old stories say that the stones can be used to connect with God and his creation in the coming-of-age ceremony to bring gifts beyond the great one bestowed in our ability to share nature with an animal.”
    “I had thought all Faol ignorant of the sacred stones.”
    Which meant Barr and Laird Talorc had never heard theold stories telling of the wolves’ sacred stone, or if they had, the stories had been dismissed as legend. Much as those of the Éan once were.
    “What else do the ancient stories of the Faol say?” Lais asked, his curiosity almost urgent.
    “That when a member of the family of the stone—the royal family—touches it, the sacred stone can do other miraculous things like healing.”
    “I thought what happened to me a miracle.”
    “I’m sure it was, but not a miracle that could not happen for