The House Of Gaian

combination of brashness and hopeful fear. Ubel had been like that when he’d found him years ago.
    Yes, perhaps he would keep his promise to this boy and mold him into a useful tool. Take him back to Wolfram to shape him and train him, then send him back here to be a hammer against his own people.
    “You have much to learn before you can become a warrior against the Evil One and its servants,” Adolfo said. “As for your apprenticeship ... You can begin by looking after the creatures you brought me. Take good care of them.”
    He hurried back to his carriage, the guard captain beside him. “We must act swiftly now. Send messengers back to the main army. Have them come up with all possible speed. Question the boy. See if he noticed any land near Willowsbrook that would serve us well in a fight. And assign some of your best archers to join the outriders. As we get closer to the enemy, they may use the Fae to try to spy on us.
    Kill any bird that flies near, any beast that stops to watch men pass instead of fleeing, any hawk soaring overhead.”
    The guard captain nodded. “I have some archers who can shoot the eye out of a soaring hawk.”
    Adolfo paused at the carriage door. “That’s exactly what needs to be done.” He swung into the carriage. “You have your orders.”
    “As you will, Master Adolfo.” The guard captain saluted, then moved off to give his orders.
    As I will , Adolfo thought as he settled himself in the carriage and closed his eyes. He smiled. Yes. As I will .

 

     
     

Chapter 45

 

     
     

     
    waning moon
     
    Morag knelt in front of the open window, her chin resting on her crossed arms. Quiet conversations drifted up to her from the inn’s garden courtyard where men and women were enjoying a still summer night. The voices were nothing more than sounds, as soothing as air flirting with leaves or water murmuring over stone. Just another part of the Mother, those voices. Not surprising, since she was in the part of Sylvalan ruled by the House of Gaian. She was in the Mother’s Hills.
    Odd how she’d never thought to describe Tir Alainn to Ari and Neall but found herself trying to remember everything she could about these hills. When she returned home, she wanted to tell them about the horses, the people, the land... and the shadow hounds.
    As she followed the innkeeper across the courtyard, she spotted the children playing with a litter of puppies under the shadow hound bitch’s watchful eyes. She walked over to them, unable to resist getting a better look at the little bundles of fur.
    “Hadn‘t intended to breed her,” the innkeeper said, grinning. “But females of all kinds are tempted to take a walk on the night of the Summer Moon.”
    She knelt and picked up the little bitch of the litter, who was more black than gray and had tan markings on her legs and face. An adorable bundle of fur.
    Cuddling the puppy, she looked up at the innkeeper. “What are you going to do with them?”
    “Oh, most of them are already spoken for,” the innkeeper replied. “Pure shadow hounds are hunters, but a shadow hound mix tends to be happiest with a family where it can be both companion and protector. So there’s no worry about any of them finding a place around here.“
    Reluctantly, she put the puppy down and got to her feet. She wanted that little bitch. Merle had never been hers, not really. She wanted something of her own to care for and cuddle. And Ari and Neall wouldn’t mind having another shadow hound around the Old Place.
    The innkeeper studied her. “The little bitch isn‘t spoken for yet.”
    She hesitated, then shook her head. “I’m headed for Willowsbrook. I couldn‘t take her with me.”
    The innkeeper nodded. “Lots of folks traveling to Willowsbrook lately. Tell you what. The pups aren‘t ready to leave their mother quite yet. I’ll hold her for a while longer, and you think on it. If you decide you don’t want her, just send a message back and I’ll let her go to someone else.”
    Morag rested her forehead on her arms. She’d reach Willowsbrook in four days. Maybe three if the dark horse and her escorts’ horses could maintain the pace. She’d get there in time to help Ashk and the Huntress stop the Witch’s Hammer from devouring any more of Sylvalan. And when it was over, they would all go home.
    Aching and stiff from long days in the saddle, Morag rose and got ready for bed. As she blew out the bedside candle and settled down to sleep, she thought