The House Of Gaian

look at the man who had been a young Lord of the Woods, It ran up the forest trail, following the path of the witch ... and the feast.
    Pulled out of her own hazy dreams, Ashk rolled out of bed, approached the bed where Morag thrashed and moaned, and placed a hand on her friend’s shoulder.
    Morag screamed, dove off the bed, and came up in a crouch, her teeth bared. Her dark eyes looked wild and held no recognition of the person standing before her.
    Ashk slowly raised her hands in a placating gesture, and said firmly, “Morag. It’s Ashk. You were dreaming. Morag .”
    Slowly—too slowly—understanding seeped into Morag’s eyes.
    Ashk stayed perfectly still. The Gatherer wasn’t a woman to startle when she wasn’t quite in her right mind.
    A second later, Ashk’s heart jumped when someone pounded on the door, and a male voice yelled, “
    Hunter! Hunter! Are you all right?”
    A quick glance at Morag, who was now staring at the door with deadly intent.
    “We’re all right!” Ashk yelled. “We’re all right,” she said quietly, looking at Morag, hoping the woman understood.
    Her sharp hearing made out a low, intense argument on the other side of the door. Not the words, but the tone.
    Stay out , she thought fiercely as the door opened enough for Morphia to start to slip into the room.
    Ashk shook her head. Morphia looked at Morag, then at Ashk before withdrawing and closing the door behind her.
    Ashk stepped back until her knees bumped against her bed. She sat down and studied Morag, who was slumped over the other bed.
    “Bad dream?” Ashk asked quietly.
    Morag nodded.

    “The same dream?”
    Pushing her hair away from her face, Morag shifted until she sat back on her heels. “Not quite the same.
    Worse in some ways.”
    “Is that why you wanted to share a room with me? So you wouldn’t be alone at night?”
    Morag nodded. “And because you ... understand the shadows.”
    She didn’t like these dreams Morag kept having. She didn’t like knowing the Gatherer of Souls was walking a knife edge of self-control. She didn’t like seeing a friend suffer night after night. Morag wouldn’
    t talk about the dreams, and without knowing even a little of the content, even Morphia, the Sleep Sister, couldn’t understand what was haunting her sister.
    “Perhaps you should turn back,” Ashk said gently. “Perhaps you should go back to Bretonwood.”
    “No,” Morag said, her voice rough. “I have to go on. It’s deadly, Ashk. I have to find it before it kills everyone I—” Her teeth clicked together as she bit off the words. “I have to go on.”
    “All right.” Ashk rose. “Come on, then. Best to meet the joys of the day.” When Morag just looked at her, she smiled grimly. “I spent yesterday afternoon in the women’s room, so the fact that I’m female is no longer a secret from the Fae beyond the west. And there’s been enough time for that news to travel, so I expect any Lord of the Woods within a few hours’ ride of this Clan house will have arrived by now.”
    Morag frowned. “You think someone will challenge you because you’re a woman?”
    “A challenge can be issued anytime two people with the same gift are in the same place. It doesn’t usually happen unless the power is waning in the one who rules the gift since the challenger can lose a great deal more than the challenge.” Ashk shrugged. “But I expect there will be a young Lord among those gathered outside the Clan house who will be foolish enough to issue a challenge. A tool for the lesson, I suppose.”
    Morag rose, her eyes now filled with uneasiness and concern. “Ashk?”
    Ashk shook her head. She wanted a quick bath to start the day clean. It wasn’t likely it would end clean. “As you said, Morag. I understand the shadows.”
    The dreams haunted her. Ashk scared her.
    As she followed Ashk to the grassy, open ground near the Clan house where dozens of the Fae had gathered around a handful of young men, Morag decided it was good for the Gatherer of Souls to feel wary of the power of another Fae. The Gatherer’s gift could overshadow anything the Hunter commanded—after all, Death embraced everything sooner or later—but there was something about Ashk herself that made it easier to face the dreams.
    She would lean on that strength, using her own to pursue a deadly enemy that hunted in her dreams.
    As they reached the open ground, Aiden, Lyrra, Morphia, and Sheridan joined them. The huntsmen riding with Ashk