The House Of Gaian

decision. “Did it occur to you that Ari was trying to protect the Clan?”
    “Of course it occurred to me,” Padrick roared. “The Clan house would have been lost before the witches who had come up from Wiccandale could do anything about it.”
    “Witches from Wiccandale?”
    Padrick waved that away. “They had business with me. Two of them had the gift of water, and when they saw the fire, they summoned the rain.”
    “Did you yell at them, too?”
    “No, I did not.”
    “Then why are you yelling at me?” Morag blinked, furious with Padrick because tears were filling her eyes.
    Since they were riding Fae horses, there wasn’t even the clip-clop of hooves to interrupt the sudden silence.
    Finally, Padrick said quietly, “Because I was scared to the bone today. Because I know what could have happened here. Because I know what did happen here. Because I was helpless to stop it. Because I’m just a foolish man who was so relieved at finding you’re both all right that I yelled at you.”
    “Did you yell at Neall?” Morag asked, wiping the tears off her cheeks.
    Padrick chuckled. “Couldn’t. My physician took one look at Neall’s hip and dosed him with something that put him to sleep before he could finish arguing that he didn’t want it.”
    “But he’ll be all right?”
    “Yes, he’ll be all right. So will Ari. The physician and midwife agree that she needs bed rest. The babe’s not due for another week or so, but they were concerned that the strain of channeling so much magic might have brought her to childbed early. However, the babe is content to stay where it is a while longer, and Ari will be recovered before she brings her son or daughter into the world.”
    Morag tried to stay alert, but after Padrick’s assurance that Ari and Neall were all right, her attention drifted. The next thing she knew, he was helping her out of the saddle, assuring her that the dark horse would be well taken care of, and leading her into the house. From there, the housekeeper and the lady’s maid to Ashk took over, helping her take a quick bath and wash the stink of smoke out of her hair, bundling her into a borrowed nightgown, and feeding her a bowl of stew and bread. She resisted their attempts to put her to bed, insisting that she had to see Ari first.
    Ari gave her a tired smile when she entered the guest room and settled on the edge of the bed.
    “I’m glad I’m not gentry,” Ari said. “Lady’s maids are very intimidating. Seems every time I twitch, the bed covers get straightened, the pillows get fluffed, and I spend five minutes arguing that the physician and midwife don’t need to come back.”
    Morag nodded. “I kept trying to picture how Ashk and her maid deal with each other—and decided I didn’t want to know.”
    Ari plucked the bedcovers. “He’s gone? Really gone?”
    “Yes, Lucian is really gone.”
    “I keep thinking I should be sorry for what happened. But I’m not. That hurts almost as much as knowing he would have killed Neall without a second thought. And for what?”
    “Because he was the Lightbringer, and the Fae have catered to the Lord of Fire and Lady of the Moon for so long, he believed he should have what he wanted whenever he wanted for as long as he wanted.”
    “People’s lives as trinkets?” Ari’s eyes filled with tears until one slipped down her face. “Did that make him any different from the Inquisitors, Morag? They think of people as trinkets, too—things they can reshape to suit themselves ... or destroy if it suits them better.”
    “I think he did care about you,” Morag said. “I think he wanted you for himself as much as for Brightwood.”
    “I cared about him, too, but not enough to stay, even if the Black Coats hadn’t come to Brightwood.” An hesitated. “I wanted to remember him kindly, as a lover I’d had for a little while. A small romance that was outside the world in many ways. Now I’ll remember him as the man who tried to destroy the people I love. As the man I killed.”
    There it was, the festering pain Morag had been waiting to lance. “You didn’t kill him, Ari,” she said, resting her hand over Ari’s to stop the nervous plucking. “I did.”
    Ari shook her head. “I’m the one who used my gift from the Mother to send the fire back to him, knowing he would burn.”
    “And I’m the one who gathered him while he lived.”
    “The fire would have killed him anyway.”
    “He was the Lord of Fire. He might have