Shadows and Light

sudden ills is because the young baron is too weak—or too bewitched—to act against those who are the Evil One’s servants, and the Evil One has found a place to take root. Let him fight against his own people’s fears and troubles. That will keep him occupied for the time being.”
    “And the other baron? What about him?”
    Adolfo reached for his glass, took a sip. “He must be punished for interfering with us. You’ll see to it personally, Ubel. Take five men to assist you. I want no mistakes this time.” He sipped again. “It doesn’t matter if the four men reach Willowsbrook before the young baron, but it’s important that you reach Breton before Baron Padrick. If he’s still helping the whelp, he’ll be delayed a couple more days, so you shouldn’t have any trouble arriving ahead of him if you ride hard. I want it done and all of you gone before he returns home.”
    “And what is it you’d like done, Master?”
    “Give his people a gift that flies in the dark. Then find out what is most dear to him—and destroy it.”

Chapter Twelve
    With Aiden beside her, Lyrra rode toward the mist at the edge of the world. Rolling hills, sparkling streams— they vanished into that wall of white that defined the borders of each Clan’s territory. Islands of land that had been created out of dreams and will, according to the entries the Crones in Ari’s family had written in their journals. Islands that were anchored to the human world by threads of magic the Fae called the shining roads—and anchored to each other by shining threads of magic they called bridges.
    She’d never wondered how the bridges could shorten the distance between one Clan’s territory and another, how it was possible to cover the same distance in a few minutes that would require a half-day’s ride in the human world. It was part of the magic of her world that she’d simply accepted, like the rest of Tir Alainn.
    She looked at the mist and the two shining arches that indicated the two bridges that connected this Clan to others.
    Aiden reined in, studied the two arches, then looked at her. “We can still change our minds.”
    Lyrra pressed her lips together. They’d talked about this last night. Both bridges led to Clans that were northeast of here. One bridge connected with the Clan that was a good day’s ride from this place; the other connected to the Clan that would be a two-day journey in the human world.
    She didn’t like the longer bridges. Never had liked them.
    It took a few minutes to ride the shining road to the human world. It took thrice that long to cross even the shortest bridge, when all you had beneath you was a wide, shining path that created a tunnel through the mist. It took thrice again that long to cross one of the longer bridges. It felt so much longer when you were riding through that tunnel in the mist, watching for that archway on the other side. She didn’t want to take that long bridge, but even using those shining threads as much as possible, it was still a long journey to the west, and the days were bleeding by so fast. The Summer Moon had come and gone last night, and every day it took them to find the Hunter was another day when more witches—and more Clans—
    might be lost.
    “We need to swing around the Mother’s Hills as quickly as possible in order to head southwest. We’re of one mind in that.” She waited for Aiden’s nod of agreement. “Lucian took the bridge to the neighboring Clan early this morning. If we ride in after him, it will just be the same scene as yesterday.
    Since we’re both heading north to go around the hills, we’ll continue having the same scene. The long bridge will cut two days off the journey—and put us ahead of Lucian. Last night that seemed like the best choice. It still does.”
    “All right, then,” Aiden said, still studying the shining arches. “Let’s not waste the time by sitting here.” He gave his horse the signal to move on, the packhorse obediently following behind him.
    When he reached the arch to the long bridge, his horse snorted, danced a little.
    “Easy boy,” Aiden soothed. “Easy. It’s just another bridge. You’ve seen hundreds by now.” Coaxing but firm, he urged the horse forward, rode into that tunnel through the mist.
    Lyrra followed. Her hands tightened on the reins when her mare tensed and planted its feet as soon as it was on the bridge, refusing to go forward.
    “Follow Aiden,” Lyrra said quietly. “Follow the