The House Of Gaian

when these challenges take place.”
    “There may not be a challenger, as such,” Taihg said hesitantly.
    “Meaning?”
    “There’s a saying in the west: The gift commands, and the gift chooses. That’s why the Fae in the west haven’t traveled to these gatherings much. It’s really just a formality, a ritual so that the new leader can be acknowledged. If the gift chooses someone, that person will ascend no matter where he or she is.”
    “If that’s the case,” Aiden said grimly, “let’s hope whoever ascends is in that Old Place tonight.”
    “Why?”
    Aiden set his harp aside and turned on the bench to look at Taihg. “If Dianna loses, we need to know who the new Huntress is. We need to know if she’s going to be like Dianna and refuse to do anything to help in the fight against the Inquisitors or if, the Great Mother willing, we might have another ally in the fight that’s coming. When we leave here in the morning, we’ll have a few days before Ashk has to decide if we’re heading for the southern end of the Mother’s Hills or going straight to Willowsbrook. I want you to travel with us until we get word about who the new Lady of the Moon is. Then you’ll come back to the west and make sure all the bards and minstrels have all the information we can glean about her.”
    “Ashk will be getting that information, too, and she’ll send word back to the west.”
    “How the Hunter and the Bard interpret that information may not be the same. Ashk needs to consider it from the view of protecting Sylvalan. I’ll consider it with the view of deciding whether or not the minstrels and bards will support the female leader of the Fae, whomever she might be.”
    Taihg stared at him. “If you ridicule the Lady of the Moon in a song, the Clans won’t have anything to do with you in fear of offending her .”
    “Does that include the Clans in the west?”
    Taihg hesitated, then shook his head. “No. Unless, of course, the Hunter takes offense.”
    “Then I’ve nothing to lose,” Aiden replied. “The Clans beyond the west already disapprove of me.”
    Before Taihg could reply, an annoyed male voice beyond the courtyard said, “Mother’s tits! Considering how far I’ve traveled, I’m going to talk to someone .”
    Aiden couldn’t hear a reply, but a moment later, a man strode into the courtyard. He had sable hair that fell to his shoulders and dark eyes full of sharp intelligence;—and more than a little annoyance. A tall man, with a honed body that moved with sleek grace, yet gave the impression of suppressed violence, like the sea on the edge of a storm.
    The man was definitely Fae, but Aiden felt uneasy the moment he saw him. He rose to face the stranger.
    “Who are you?” the stranger demanded.
    “Aiden. The Lord of Song.”
    “The Bard, is it? I’m Murtagh, the Lord of the Selkies. I was looking for the Hunter, but you’ll do for now.”
    “Will I?”
    Murtagh flashed a feral smile that made Aiden wish for a large knife and the skill to use it. He had the feeling Murtagh possessed both.
    “When you’ve the time, Bard, I’d appreciate it if you’d come by Selkie Island and give the minstrels there a bit of encouragement. We’ve a handful of them on the island, and there’s not one of them that will lift his ass to fart let alone learn a new song. Don’t any of you write anything new?”
    “Occasionally,” Aiden said dryly.
    Murtagh eyed Taihg. “If you’re too busy, you could send another bard.”
    “I get seasick,” Taihg said quickly.
    Murtagh sighed. “Well, see what you can do. I’ve been hearing the same songs since I was a boy. I’d throw the lot of them into the sea, but they’re selkies, too, so it wouldn’t gain me anything.”
    “I’ll keep it in mind,” Aiden said, “but there are other concerns right now.”
    ‘True enough.“ Murtagh raked a hand through his hair. ”There’s talk, Bard, and I don’t like what I’m hearing.“
    “What have you heard?”
    “That witches are being killed by men called Black Coats. That the Old Places are being taken over by humans, and the Small Folk are being driven out.”
    “It’s true.”
    “Well... Mother’s tits! Why aren’t the Mother’s Daughters going up the shining roads to escape and letting the Fae deal with the bastards?”
    “The Fae in the east of Sylvalan refused to do anything to help the witches—and now the Fae are lost as well, trapped in their Clan territories in Tir Alainn after the