Children of the Moon 04 - Dragon's Moon

question, Ciara?”
    “What?”
    “Whether I could wield the sword, or not?”
    “Oh…uh…no. I did not realize Eirik thought you could, or that some could not. The sword has nothing to do with my question.”
    “Directly,” Eirik interjected.
    And she nodded in agreement. She could not deny the connection between it and the Faolchú Chridhe , not after her waking vision.
    When her father just gave her a look of question, she swallowed and prepared to share more of the secrets she’d kept held so close for so long.
    “Is this about your dreams?” Abigail asked, clearly trying to help Ciara get the words out.
    Ciara swallowed again and then forced the words from her tight throat. “In my dreams, I see the Faolchú Chridhe in a vast cavern that glows with a strange green light. It’s not torches, but almost as if the walls themselves put off the light. Do you know of caves or a cavern such as this?”
    Saying it out loud made it sound even more fanciful than when she thought about it.
    Before her father had a chance to answer, Guaire came in with Everett, one of the Chrechte soldiers.
    Abigail smiled in welcome, but Talorc wasted no time in indicating the sword on the table. “Use that to demonstrate the beginning sword movements taught to all warriors.”
    Everett did not ask why but simply obeyed his laird. However, it was quickly obvious he did not like the sword he was using. His movements lacked grace and the sword looked more like a heavy boulder in his hand the way it moved than a weapon of such impressive craftsmanship.
    Nevertheless, Everett finished his demonstration before setting the sword back on the table with a frown.
    “It is beautiful, but the weight is all wrong. I’d probably end up cutting my own arm off if I tried to use this sword in battle. Was it a gift sent north by our lady’s family?” he asked in confusion.
    “Nay. You may leave, Everett.”
    Everett shrugged and did so, showing no reluctance to get back to his training.
    Eirik crossed his arms and looked at Ciara’s father. “Do you still doubt the unique nature of that weapon?”
    “Everett is a competent warrior.” Her father’s confusion was even more pronounced than his soldier’s had been. “He has moved up the ranks and now trains the younger soldiers.”
    “But he cannot wield the sword of the Faolchú Chridhe .” Eirik evinced no surprise at that turn of events.
    “You really think my father is like me, a descendant of the keepers of the stone,” Ciara said with some awe.
    “I do. You yourself said that those that remained with that blood in their veins, no matter how diluted, were scattered among the Highland clans.”
    “But some must have more connection to the stone than others,” Guaire observed while it was clear Abigail and Talorc were sharing a silent conversation between mates through their mindspeak.
    “Aye. They do. You heard the Sinclair say the handle grew heated in his palm?”
    “Yes.”
    “That is a sign the sword accepts him. It is not enough to carry the blood of original keeper of the stone; it must also call to you.”
    No one present who knew Everett and Talorc could doubt Eirik’s words, because the warrior and his laird were distant cousins. “Then we should leave it with my father.”
    “Not until we have found the Faolchú Chridhe .” Eirik’s voice said he would not be moved.
    He put action to words and slid the sword back into its scabbard.
    “But—”
    “I agree,” her father said over her objections. “The sword is yours, Ciara, and must remain with you.”
    She looked beseechingly at her mother.
    But though Abigail gave her a look of understanding, she said, “Your father is right. Please listen to him.”
    There was no point in arguing further, so Ciara simply gave a silent gesture of agreement. She didn’t have to be happy about it, but she wasn’t going to pout like a child, either.
    Much.
    “What do you think of this oddly lit cavern?” Eirik asked their laird, closing the subject of the sword with finality.
    “It is not so uncommon in caves, particularly those with some source of water, to glow as Ciara describes. I can think of none that open into a large cavern like you describe though.” Talorc wrinkled his brow. “You should begin your search with those caves our people have always considered sacred. Mayhap there are passages we are not aware of that lead to this cavern.”
    “I do not know why I am certain, but there is no question in my