Shadows and Light

enough to smell tolerable,” Caitlin added.
    “So one day we decided to find out how bad it would be if we did do something bad enough that Mother would dunk us,” Evan said. “So we tied a rope to a tree near one of the privy houses and brought the other end in with us so that we could climb back out.”
    “It was bad,” Caitlin said, wrinkling her nose. “And we never did get the shoes clean enough to be tolerable. Mother threw those back down the privy hole. And when Father came to take us back to the estate, he wouldn’t let us bring the clothes back into the house even though we’d washed them.”
    “And he made us take another bath,” Evan said.
    “But we never did anything bad enough to make Mother dunk us in the privy hole,” Caitlin said proudly.
    “And now that we’re older, we don’t do things like that anymore.”
    “I’m so glad,” Morag said faintly. A bit desperate, she looked around and felt almost weak with relief when Ashk and Padrick joined them.
    Ashk smiled at the children. “There’s someone waiting to greet you. Just follow that path. You can leave the pony here,” she told Caitlin. Then she frowned at Evan. “Why did you ride behind your father?
    Where’s your pony?”
    Evan gave Ashk a sweet smile. “I lent it to Ari, along with my little pony cart. It’s small enough to fit on most of the forest trails, and that way Ari won’t have to walk so much when she’s gathering her plants this summer.”
    “That was very thoughtful of you,” Ashk said.
    Padrick coughed. “Go on now. And remember to come back. You’re the guest of honor at this feast, and we can’t begin without you.”
    The children grinned at him. Evan dashed down the path. Caitlin shoved the pony’s reins into her mother’

    s hand and ran after him.
    “Morag?” Ashk said. “You look pale. Aren’t you feeling well?”
    “I’ve been talking to your children.”
    “Oh, dear,” Ashk and Padrick said.
    “I’ve never met children quite like them.”
    Ashk gave her a cool look. “They’re not so different from other children.”
    “Not the children here in the west,” Padrick said. “But, perhaps, different from the children who had grown up knowing only Tir Alainn?”
    “Yes,” Morag said, relieved he understood—and then wondered why he understood so well.
    “My Lady,” Padrick said, looking pointedly at Ashk.
    “Morag,” Ashk said, “this is Padrick, the Baron of Breton—and my husband. Padrick, this is Morag, the Gatherer.”
    “I’m pleased to make your acquaintance, Lady Morag,” Padrick said.
    Morag stared at both of them. Husband? Not just mate?
    She must have looked as startled as she felt, because Padrick said, “The gentry require a legal heir to a baron’s estate, so Ashk indulged me in following the human custom of marriage.”
    “I see,” Morag said. But she didn’t see. Not really. A baron and a Lady of the Woods. Gentry and Fae.
    Not just living separately side by side in their own little pieces of the world, but weaving those pieces together.
    Do you know how different all of you are from the rest of the Fae? Morag wondered.
    The feral amusement in Ashk’s woodland eyes told her clearly that Ashk, at least, was quite aware that the Clan’s acceptance of her union with a gentry baron would be incomprehensible to Fae beyond the west.
    When she saw that same feral amusement in Padrick’s eyes, understanding struck her as hard as a physical blow. She hadn’t looked beyond the human face and the gentry title, hadn’t considered there might be a reason to look beneath the surface. She should have considered it, especially after living with Neall and Ari for the past few days.
    Padrick might be gentry and a baron, but he was also Fae.
    “The children are returning,” Ashk said after a moment of long silence. “Shall we join the others for the feast?”
    As the late afternoon gave way to evening, and the feasting gave way to the dancing and the music and the stories, Morag couldn’t shake the feeling that when she’d crossed into the territory of the western Clans, she’d crossed more of a boundary than she’d realized.
    Declining to participate in another dance, she sat beside Ari, glad to have a moment when she could watch instead of being swept along in the celebration.

    “Why didn’t you tell me Ashk was married to the local baron?” Morag asked, feeling a little hurt that she’
    d been excluded from what was, after all, common knowledge