The Pillars Of The World

thought. Let them grieve .
    She guided him out of the house.
    “You approve?” he asked as they walked toward the dark horse.
    “I approve,” she replied quietly. After she mounted, Ahern floated up to sit behind her.
    She didn’t immediately seek the road to the Shadowed Veil. Instead, she went back to Brightwood, back to the hill where the wind always blew, and Astra, as well as Ahern, made the journey with her.
    She left them standing before the Shadowed Veil. When she looked back, she saw Ahern hold out his hand . . . and she saw Astra take it. Together, they walked through the Shadowed Veil to the Summerland beyond.
    Merry meet, and merry part, and merry meet again.
    She wasn’t sure about the partings, but she hoped that, when their spirits had rested and were reborn in the world, Astra and Ahern would find each other again. Perhaps, the next time, they would be able to build a life together.
    It was growing dark by the time she returned to Ari’s cottage, where Morphia waited for her.
     

 

     
     

Chapter Thirty-two

 

     
     

     
    In the early dawn light, Dianna’s pale mare trotted wearily beside Lucian, heading for Brightwood.
    It was pointless trying to talk to him yet. He hadn’t changed back to his human form once since those men showed up yesterday, intending to burn down Ari’s cottage.
    Perhaps it was better that she couldn’t talk to him. She wasn’t sure she would want to hear what he had to say—not after she’d seen what he’d done to the village of Ridgeley. The Lightbringer had been a vengeful Lord of Fire, and nothing had been spared. If humans had built it, he had burned it—and anyone who hadn’t had the sense to flee.
    Of course, the fact that he wouldn’t talk to her right now meant she didn’t have to tell him how many of those he’d allowed to flee had died anyway when they were confronted by the Huntress and her shadow hounds.
    And she didn’t have to ask if he knew for certain that Ari hadn’t been in the village, held prisoner, before he burned it down.
    So she urged the mare to keep pace with her brother, all the while hoping that what they would find at Brightwood would justify what they had done.

    Lucian snorted, pricked his ears, and lengthened his pace.
    Dianna let the mare fall behind—until she saw the two horses grazing in the meadow. “A little farther,”
    she told the mare, urging her on. “Then you can rest.”
    The mare tried, but when her pace faltered, Dianna dismounted and ran the rest of the way to the cottage. Ari was back. Ari was safe. And so was the Clan and their home territory in Tir Alainn.
    Lucian changed form and strode toward the cottage. He looked at the half-open kitchen door and stopped suddenly, giving Dianna time to catch up to him.
    Oh, Lucian, try to act like a joyous lover instead of an angry man. We won and —
    Morag opened the other half of the kitchen door and stepped out of the cottage.
    Dianna felt as if she were falling off a steep cliff, waiting for the pain of hitting the ground.
    “Where is Ari?” Lucian demanded, looking past Morag to see inside the kitchen.
    “She’s gone, Lucian,” Morag said quietly.
    “Gone?” Dianna echoed. “How could she be gone when she’d been captured by—” She felt the blood drain from her head, making her dizzy.
    “The Black Coats,” Morag said, finishing the sentence Dianna had started. “And now she’s gone.”
    “Bring her back,” Lucian said, his voice calm and deadly. “The Gatherer can summon a spirit back from the Summerland if it hasn’t been there very long.” The calm broke, turning to fury. “How could you have taken her without consulting us first?”
    “Why should I have consulted you?” Morag asked. “It was not your decision to make.”
    “Bring her back. She belongs here in Brightwood, with us.”
    “Even if I could do that, where would her spirit go? Do you know where her body lies right now? I don’
    t.”
    “Her spirit could reside as a part of Brightwood,” Dianna said.
    “To feel the bite of every ax when wood was needed? To feel the cut of the spade when land was turned? Or would you have me bring back her ghost and leave it in the meadow? If her spirit doesn’t reside in flesh, would she be able to do what you want of her?”
    “Then we’ll find another body for her to inhabit.”
    “Whose?” Morag asked softly. “A spirit doesn’t leave a healthy body.”
    “You could gather another person’s spirit and give the