Children of the Moon 04 - Dragon's Moon

back. “Yes.”
    “Anya-Gra will help you.”
    “So, I am not the descendant of a king, but a spiritual leader?” she asked, thinking of the old woman she had seen in her dream.
    “Probably both. The royal family of the Éan have ruled our people for millennia and each spiritual leader we have had has also come from my line.”
    “Do you think it was the same with the wolves, before MacAlpin?”
    “Aye. I am certain of it.”
    “But our royal lineage is now spread out like birdseed tossed from a high window among the clans.”
    “But only you possess the king’s sword.”
    “I have a dirk with the same stones, and the arm cuff of one of my ancestors who was kelle , but I do not have her sword.”
    “As you said, your line has been spread out among the clans, but for you to have all three items, your lineage must be as pure as Mairi claims.”
    “They never told me.”
    “Your parents?”
    “Or my brother. They all hid it from me, like I didn’t matter.”
    “Mayhap they did not want to burden you with knowledge too heavy to bear.”
    Her aching heart was touched by Eirik’s attempt to console her, but she knew the truth and she shook her head.
    Finally finding the strength of will, she pulled away from him to go to the bed and look down at the sword. She was afraid to touch it again and maybe have another vision.
    “So, it truly was the weapon of a monarch? I always thought it looked like it should be.” Yet even after her vision, she had a hard time believing it.
    “Aye. I have one just like it.” Eirik drew his sword over his shoulder and swung it down to land against his other hand between them.
    It was bronze as well, the edges of the blade sharpened to a much finer bevel than the one she kept in her trunk.
    “May I see the handle?” she asked.
    He repositioned the weapon so that it laid across his hands, fully open to her inspection.
    After examining his sword closely, she stepped away from both it and the weapon lying on her bed. “They are not just alike.”
    “Are they not?” he asked, as if indulging her.
    “No. On your handle, the dragon is the center figure. On mine, the conriocht is central.”
    They both went silent, contemplating what this slight difference could mean.
    “Such would imply there is a sword out there somewhere that has a griffin as its center,” he said in a tone she had never before heard from the dragon shifter…awe.
    “A myth…”
    The look Eirik gave her was wry. “Like the Éan and the true conriocht .”
    “But where are the cat shifters then, the Paindeal?”
    Eirik looked thoughtful. “Some of the most ancient stories told of a bridge of land that used to connect Scotland to the land of the Norse. The Chrechte had supposedly traveled over these bridges of land before they fell into the sea and the only way to the land of the Vikings was by water because even an eagle cannot fly that far.”
    She thought maybe a dragon might be able to, though she did not say it. “You think the Paindeal are still in those lands?”
    “Perhaps. Mayhap we will answer that question after we find the wolves’ sacred stone.”
    Deciding the time for secrets was past, there was too much at stake, Ciara said, “I think I saw the woman that hid the Faolchú Chridhe .”
    “In your vision.”
    “Yes. She was in a cave. It was lit with torches, therewere drawings carved into the wall, but I could not make them out in the meager light.” And her attention had been fixed on the woman.
    Ciara only remembered the drawings as an impression on the peripheral of her sight.
    “Was it the cavern of your other dreams?”
    “No, but maybe it’s part of the cave system that leads to it.”
    “So, you think the stone was hidden in a cave?”
    “Yes, a cavern, deep in the ground. It glows with a strange green light.” Would Eirik believe her any more fully than Galen, or would he too question the certainty she woke from her dreams with?
    “I do not spend much time in caves when my dragon is not busy protecting the dreams of seers who are tormented by their gift. Are there known caverns like this?”
    “There may be. We should ask our lair…um, my father. If he does not know, someone among the Balmoral may.”
    “It is a sound plan.”
    For no reason she could discern, she blushed with pleasure under his approval. Eirik’s view of her did not matter. She could not allow it to matter.

Chapter 13

Nothing weighs on us so heavily as a secret.
    —J EAN DE L A F