Shadows and Light

the man until he stepped away from the tree he’d been leaning against. Dressed in brown and summer green, he’d blended into the woods.
    “You were expected a while ago, so we began to wonder if you’d gotten lost.” The man glanced at Lyrra, but the smile that followed that glance was directed at Aiden. “Then again, there are some pretty spots between here and Willowsbrook that are fine places to linger on a summer’s day.”
    Aiden’s fingers brushed the wooden disk. “You were expecting us?”
    “Cousin Breanna sent a message this morning. A man, a woman, and two horses coming our way from Willowsbrook.”
    Since Lyrra had turned mute, Aiden had no choice but to be their spokesman. Besides, his curiosity was now a dreadful itch. “How could she send a message after we left and have it reach you before we did?”
    Could there have been a faster way? No, Breanna had escorted them to this road herself and said it was the clearest way and the easiest to follow.
    The man smiled. “A whisper on the wind. A scent in the air. Not as precise as words on paper, but easy enough to read if you know how.” He whistled softly. A horse trotted out of the trees, its hooves making no sound on the road.
    A Fae horse ? Aiden wondered. What was a Fae horse doing here ?
    “There’s only a couple of miles to go before we reach the village,” the man said as he mounted his horse.
    “If you ride behind your lady, we’ll cover the distance faster, and you’ll have some time to rest before the evening meal.” That male smile flickered again.
    When Aiden mounted behind Lyrra, she turned her head and whispered, “He thinks we’re late because we stopped to make love instead of traveling.”
    Resting his mouth near her ear, he whispered back, “It’s a reasonable assumption.” And at a different time and in a different place, they might have done just that.
    “How can we be late when we didn’t know we were expected?”
    “Lyrra.” Aiden squeezed her waist lightly, well aware that the man who was now their escort might not be close enough to hear the words but was intelligent enough to guess at the conversation.
    Their escort guided his horse over to them and gently tugged the packhorse’s lead out of Lyrra’s hand. “
    Why don’t I lead the packhorse,” he said, his eyes twinkling. “It looks like you two have your hands full as it is.”
    “I— I— I—” Since that was the only sound Lyrra seemed capable of making, she subsided into silent fuming, her cheeks brilliantly colored by embarrassment or temper.
    Aiden just closed his eyes, considered what the Muse could do when she finally regained her ability with words, and decided he didn’t want to think about it.
    Their escort set his horse into an easy trot with the pack-horse trotting with him, leaving Lyrra and Aiden no choice but to follow.
    After a few minutes, when their escort looked back to see what was keeping them, Aiden murmured to Lyrra, “I think it would be wise to be a bit more friendly.” Her only response was to urge the mare forward until they were riding beside the man.
    There was one simple, common way of bringing a stranger one step closer to possibly being a friend. “I’
    m Aiden. And this is Lyrra, my wife.”
    “Skelly,” the man replied.
    Aiden waited for Lyrra to say something. Anything.
    “I’m ... in a mood,” she finally said through gritted teeth.
    Skelly laughed. “That’s a bit like saying the sun is warm, the rain is wet, and the wind can blow sweet or fierce. Men are no strangers to women’s moods. Even the Great Mother has them.” He glanced at her, considering.
    Air whistled out from between her teeth.
    “Men have moods, too,” Aiden said quickly.
    “Oh, that they do, and, according to women, what we lack in variety we make up for in quantity.”
    Lyrra grunted. It might have been a choked-back laugh. Aiden wasn’t sure.
    “A few years ago,” Skelly said, “another fellow and I were both taken with the same fair lady, and she seemed to enjoy our company without giving a hint as to which one she preferred. Wicked thing to do to a young man’s heart—although my sweet granny would have said it wasn’t our hearts that found the young lady so compelling. Well, we did what young men do. We strutted and bragged. We swaggered and boasted. Annoyed the patience out of everyone around us. After this had been going on awhile, my sweet granny took us both over to a pasture where the rams were doing a