Shadows and Light

that.”
    Lyrra glanced at each of them and realized Morag and Ashk not only understood each other, but they also felt equally protective of Ari and Neall.
    “If you’ll excuse me,” Lyrra said. “I’d better get back to Aiden.”
    “Ari was hoping you and Aiden would be willing to sing a few songs this evening,” Morag said.
    “It would be our pleasure.” Smiling at both of them, she hurried through the corridors of that part of the Clan house until she reached the room she and Aiden had been given.
    He was still sitting on the window seat, silent. He stood quickly when she rushed across the room. When she threw her arms around his neck, he held her tightly against him.
    “Lyrra?” he said worriedly.
    She leaned back, and she knew he didn’t understand the tears welling up again as she smiled at him. But he would. Oh, he would.
    “Aiden, I have wonderful news.”
    Morag watched Lyrra hurry away before turning back to face Ashk. “I apologize if my hasty departure caused a problem.”
    Ashk shrugged. “Nothing an apology from me can’t mend. And if it can’t be mended, so be it.”
    Morag studied Ashk. “When I got back to the Clan house, I talked to a couple of the hunters standing watch. They told me Aiden and Lyrra would be killed if they tried to leave. Those were your orders.”
    Ashk met her eyes without flinching, without regret. “Those were my orders. Now that I know why you left so hastily, I’ll withdraw that command.” She took a deep breath, let it out slowly. “I’m glad they didn
    ’t test my sincerity.”
    “Did you really think the Bard and the Muse were a threat?”
    Ashk shook her head. “If they’d truly been a threat to the Clan, or to anyone else in Bretonwood, you wouldn’t have run, Morag. You would have killed them yourself.”
    Ashk settled on one of the benches that formed a half-circle in front of the Clan house. Aiden and Lyrra took the center bench, quietly tuning instruments in preparation for the evening’s entertainment.
    She’d spent most of the time before and during the evening meal watching them. Especially Aiden. She’d seen the sign of nerves as he’d rubbed his hands on his trousers when Ari and Neall had ridden up to the Clan house. She’d seen the strong emotions in his face and in his eyes when Ari shyly approached him—
    and realized it was meeting Ari last summer, however briefly, that had begun the journey that brought Aiden here now. She’d seen his delight when Morphia greeted him—and his relief when Morag came up to talk to him. She’d listened as Aiden and Padrick talked about traveling through the Mother’s Hills—
    and laughed together about someone named Skelly and his sweet granny.
    And she felt an ache in her heart that he hadn’t arrived a month earlier when he could have walked down a forest trail and looked into the wise, dark eyes of an old stag.
    Padrick joined her, took her hand in his. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. The light squeeze of her hand told her he knew where her thoughts had gone.
    She looked at Caitlin and Evan, sitting on old blankets with a pile of other children, protected within that half circle of benches filled with adults. The men who formed the outer part of the circle were all armed.
    They’d found no nighthunter nests close to the Clan house, but she knew there were still some out there.
    She could still feel a wrongness in the woods. So they would be cautious, careful.
    Aiden and Lyrra began with an instrumental piece, followed by a bright little tune. Then Lyrra spent a couple of minutes teaching the children the chorus to another song.
    They were all laughing and applauding at the end of that song when a shout of alarm had the adults jumping to their feet.
    Ashk’s heart pounded in her chest as a dark horse cantered toward them, chased by one of the youths standing watch over the corralled horses. Like the armed hunters, she scanned the trees and the shadows cast by the torchlight for any sign of danger—and sensed nothing.
    The horse wove his way between people who prudently stepped aside until he came to a stop at the edge of the blankets filled with children.
    “I don’t understand how he got out,” the youth said, panting from the chase.
    “It’s all right.” Aiden’s voice was a blend of embarrassment and resignation. “He just wants to hear the music.”
    The dark horse tossed his head in what might have been a nod of agreement.
    The youth trotted back to the