Shadows and Light

had declared that these books were no longer suitable reading and were to be destroyed, and the magistrate’s guards would be along any day to take all the copies he and the other booksellers had. He wanted to save what he could. Otherwise, when the barons finally came to their senses, these books, these stories, would be lost.

    “I brought a cart late that night and drove it to the alleyway door. I took the books and promised I would find a safe place for them.”
    “Why are these books no longer suitable for reading?” Ashk asked.
    His eyes filled with restrained anger. “Because they were written by women, Lady Ashk. And the eastern barons have decided that women aren’t capable of writing anything that is worthy of being published or read.”
    Ashk felt Morag stiffen—and she wondered what Padrick would say about this when he returned home.
    “Why bring them to Padrick?” Ashk said. “He, too, is a baron.”
    Mihail hesitated. “I met Baron Padrick when I went to fetch my nephews home from school, and he struck me as a decent man. One who would understand.”
    “The merchant boys,” Ashk said, feeling another jolt run through her. “You’re their uncle.” The uncle who stands at the bow of his ship in a storm and asks the sea for safe passage. The uncle with woodland eyes. The man who talked to Padrick about finding a safe harbor in the west for his family’s ships — and his family.
    “Yes, Lady.”
    “Where are the boys?” She knew her tone was too sharp, but she couldn’t help it.
    There was something wrong with Mihail’s smile. The affection was real, but the smile itself was a lie. “
    They’re still with me. They’re on the ship.”
    You meant to take them home, but you kept them with you. Why?
    “And where is your ship?”
    Now he looked worried. “We put in at a harbor about a day’s ride from here. I’m not sure of the name of the village. The people there ...” He shrugged. “If you’re willing to take the books, my men and I will be on our way. We’re only a few days past the Summer Moon, so there’s still plenty of moonlight. We should be able to travel well enough and get back to the ship by dawn.”
    “He stays here tonight,” Morag said abruptly.
    Mihail glanced at Morag, but he addressed Ashk. “I’m grateful for the offer, but I need to get back to my ship.”
    Morag turned to Ashk. “He stays here tonight.” Then she was out the door before Ashk could say anything.
    “Lady Ashk,” Mihail said.
    Ashk had turned toward the door when Morag left. As she turned back to face her reluctant guest, she dropped the glamour that hid her true face.
    He stared at her. “I thought you were—”
    “Padrick’s wife. I am. I’m also Fae.”
    He held out a hand, a silent plea. “I have to return to my ship.”

    Ashk shook her head. “If she says you stay, then you stay.”
    “Why?”
    “Because she’s the Gatherer, and she wouldn’t insist that you stay for no reason.”
    He paled again, and there was fear in his eyes now. It was one thing to wonder if the woman standing before you was the Gatherer; it was another thing to know it. “My ship ...”
    “Will be safe enough.”
    “The villagers weren’t pleased to have a strange ship come into their harbor.”
    No, they wouldn’t be . “Your ship and your people will be safe enough.”
    “How can you be sure?” Mihail demanded, his concern overriding his fear.
    “Because you have woodland eyes,” Ashk replied quietly. “Those eyes mark you as witches’ kin. So the harbor folk will wait and see what comes when you return.”
    Mihail nodded reluctantly. “Then I thank you for your hospitality.” He hesitated. “Why does she want me to stay here?”
    “I don’t know,” Ashk said. But I intend to find out .
    “Why do you want him to stay?”
    Morag turned from the flower bed she’d been staring at to find Ashk standing a few feet away from her.
    She hadn’t heard the other woman approach, but Ashk always moved silently. “He seems like a decent man.”
    Ashk nodded. “He seems to be.”
    “When he mentioned going back to his ship, I saw a flicker of a shadow on his face, and when I went out to look at the men who came with him, I saw the same flicker. But Death isn’t whispering here. Death isn
    ’t waiting for him but still might find him.”
    Ashk studied Morag. “An accident on the road?”
    “I don’t know.” She smiled, but there was no humor in it. “I can see only what I can