Shadows and Light

Mother. And she would take care of removing the rest.
    She knelt beside Neall. Rested a hand on Ari’s shoulder.
    “Do no harm,” Ari said, sobbing quietly. “It is not our way to do harm. But I was frightened, and angry—
    and I let fire act as anger’s voice.”
    “He would have hurt Merle,” Neall said firmly. “He was going to kill you and the babe. You had to protect yourself.”
    “I told you once before that your creed serves you well most of the time,” Morag said. “But it would be foolish not to use your power to protect what you love when someone intends harm. You can’t deny these men came for any reason except to hurt you and Neall.”

    Neall mouthed the question, “Black Coats?”
    Morag nodded, watched his expression turn hard.
    “Neall! Is Ari hurt?”
    Morag looked over her shoulder as Glenn ran up to the garden wall. A hawk landed on the wall behind Neall and Ari. A young stag bounded toward the garden, followed by several Fae on horseback. Within moments, the kitchen garden was surrounded by armed men.
    Merle snarled a warning.
    No one tried to go over the garden wall.
    “Lady Morag?” one of the older huntsmen said.
    “They both need a healer,” Morag said.
    Ari brushed tears from her face, smearing her cheeks with dirt. “I’m not hurt.”
    “Neall is.”
    Ari pushed away from Neall. She paled when she saw the blood on his shirt.
    “It’s shallow,” Neall said quickly, “and it’s already stopped bleeding.”
    “He needs a healer,” Morag said firmly.
    The young stag bounded away, racing up the forest trail that led to the Clan house.
    “Come,” Morag said, getting to her feet. “You should both go into the cottage and rest.”
    “I need—”
    “Young Lord,” the huntsman said. “I think you need to stop arguing with Lady Morag.”
    Morag saw a muscle jump in Neall’s jaw as he clenched his teeth. Mother’s tits! Couldn’t he realize Ari would be calmer with him nearby?
    He didn’t argue, just used his good arm to help Ari get to her feet.
    Glenn cleared his throat. “Neall, if you could give Shadow a whistle, it would ease things.”
    Neall let out a piercing whistle. The dark horse broke off circling the Inquisitor’s body and trotted toward the cottage. So did the dark mare and her foal. By the time Neall and Morag led Ari to the cottage’s kitchen door, the horses were waiting for them. Morag gave them a minute to reassure the animals, then hustled them into the cottage, ordering Merle to stay outside until he’d had a bath. Ari didn’t need to see bloody pawprints on her floors.
    Neall was right. The knife slice on his upper arm was long but shallow enough that even a novice healer could deal with it. Morag let Ari tend it, fetching the things that were needed. There really wasn’t anything to do for Ari, but she worried about what the strain of the attack might do to the young witch and the babe she carried.
    She made tea, using the mixture Ari had made from herbs she’d gathered and had labeled soothing.

    While the water heated, she tried not to pace continually between the table where Ari and Neall were sitting and the kitchen door where Merle whined because he wasn’t allowed inside. In another minute, he
    ’d start howling to let everyone know he wasn’t happy about being so far away from Ari. Which wasn’t going to soothe any of them.
    She made the tea, set the mugs in front of Ari and Neall— and went back to the kitchen door. How long did it take for the healer to arrive?
    This time she saw the young stag—and the horse and rider following it. She opened the bottom half of the kitchen door. Merle streaked past her, but she felt too stunned to grab him. She stepped outside as the black-haired woman flung herself out of the saddle and ran toward the cottage.
    “Morphia,” Morag whispered.
    “Morag!” Morphia shouted.
    So good to hold this woman who was a sister of the heart as well as the flesh. “Merry meet, Morphia.”
    Morphia leaned back, her eyes full of tears, her smile brilliant with joy. “You’re well?”
    “I’m well. But I could use your help.”
    Morphia’s smile faded. “What do you need?”
    Morag leaned close and whispered, “The kind of restful sleep you can give.” She took Morphia’s hand and led her into the cottage, saying, “Come in and be welcome.”
    Neall jumped to his feet, his whole body tense.
    Morag smiled. “Neall. Ari. Do you remember my sister, Morphia?”
    Ari said, “Blessings of