Children of the Moon 04 - Dragon's Moon

priestesses and warriors? Her muscles were defined, despite her obvious age, and she crouched with an agility-wrapped tension that spoke of someone prepared to leap into action at any moment.
    A wicked-looking dirk dangled from a leather strap between her legs. And the air escaped Ciara’s chest as she realized the kelle wore a bronze cuff on her arm free of tattoos. It was identical to the one Ciara wore, but without the intricate swirls that must have been added later.
    When the old woman raised her head, Ciara saw the thin bronze circlet she wore in her long gray hair. Graced with an emerald that dangled in the middle of the kelle’s forehead, it clearly marked her as Faol royalty of some kind.
    She straightened and Ciara could see a leather-wrapped bundle held tight to her chest. Eyes the same color as Ciara’s surveyed the cave, as if trying to see into the very shadows and looking through Ciara as if she were not there at all.
    Each move, every line of the kelle ’s body spoke of determination and urgency. She turned toward the back of the cave and revealed a short sword, similar to the one Ciara treasured, strapped to her back. There was no sign of her age in the way she walked with strength and purpose, her head held high.
    The kelle disappeared in the shadows, and as quickly as Ciara had found herself in the cave, she found herself back on the floor of her bedchamber.
    Her eyes were open though she did not remember lifting her lids, and she stared at the wall opposite.
    Her mind’s eye could still see the kelle though and Ciara shuddered at the certainty she had just witnessed not onlya moment in the life of one of her ancestors, but the loss of the Faolchú Chridhe as well.
    Her hand was still on the sword, but the metal no longer felt unnaturally hot. She released it quickly though, as if it could yet burn her. Looking at her palm, she saw no redness to indicate the heat the sword handle had generated.
    She wondered where the sword the kelle had worn had gone? To another distant relative perhaps, another family within the Faol that might actually tell their daughters the truth of their past?
    “What are you doing?” Eirik’s voice came from the doorway.
    Feeling like she was underwater, Ciara turned her head to see him. Dressed much as he’d been the first time she’d spied him from atop the tower, the dragon shifter filled her doorway, a scowl settled firmly on his chiseled features.
    “I was…” Trying to understand her past, looking for proof of Mairi’s claim Ciara was something more than she thought.
    Eirik’s gaze moved beyond her to the weapon lying exposed on her bed and his glare turned sulfuric. “You have a sword from one of the ancient Chrechte kings. Where did you get it?”
    The accusation and mistrust in Eirik’s tone hurt in a way Ciara refused to acknowledge.
    “I did not steal it, and my brother didn’t, either.” She would rather be standing for this conversation, but after the vision she did not trust the strength of her legs.
    “You are the one who claims to still follow the ways of the ancient Chrechte. Then you must believe in the visions…that I am descendant of a Chrechte king. Why shouldn’t I have his sword?” Only they both knew why not. Because she’d had no idea until Mairi came that Ciara’s past led back to the original rulers of her race.
    “I did not say you stole it,” he gritted out with clear reluctance.
    She forced herself to rise, only swaying a little as she gained her feet.
    Eirik was there before she could blink, holding her arm,his scowl gone, to be replaced by concern. “What is the matter?”
    Waking dreams left her even more weakened than those that disturbed her sleep, but that was her own burden to bear and she certainly would not confide it to him. “Nothing. I am fine.”
    “You are pale.”
    “I need more sun.”
    He frowned, obviously not liking the flippancy of her answer.
    “I had a vision,” she said, to get his attention off her temporary weakness.
    If he had looked concerned before, now he appeared downright worried. “While you were awake?”
    The man didn’t seem able to decide if he despised her or cared about her and she wasn’t risking believing in the one when the other might be lurking around a convenient rock.
    “It is not the first time,” she said as casually as she could, like these waking visions did not terrify her.
    “You did not mention this when we all spoke earlier.”
    “I did not think it