The Pillars Of The World

knew they were watching her pass by, but none of them came forward to greet a Lady from Tir Alainn. That, too, was something that had changed in recent years.
    But it was the sound that was gathering under the rustle of leaves and water flowing over stone that made her urge the dark horse into a canter. She didn’t slow his pace until they reached the human road a few minutes later. Then she reined in and listened.
    It had been nothing more than the wood nymphs and water sprites. She knew that. But it still sounded as if the brook and the trees had been weeping, as if the land itself was grieving the loss of ... something.
    Who had lived in that cottage? Why had they left? And why would their leaving make so much difference to an Old Place in so short a time? Was the magic bleeding out from the land the reason the road through the Veil was no longer strong enough to carry her home?
    “We’ll find a place to rest,” Morag said, petting the dark horse’s neck. But not here .
    Shivering from weariness and from night air that suddenly seemed colder, she studied the road. She had been traveling slowly but steadily toward the south of Sylvalan until she had reached this Old Place and had used the road through the Veil to return to Tir Alainn for a brief rest. When she came back down the shining road at the dark of the moon, she had drifted on the outskirts of the nearby villages before circling back here. She had no desire to go back to any of those places, no desire to see what might have happened to other women in those villages.
    Turning the dark horse, she resumed her journey south.
     

 

     
     

Chapter Six

 

     
     

     
    Ari hurriedly filled the small pack with cheese, apples, and two of the fairy cakes she had made to celebrate the Summer Moon. She strapped two canteens of water into their places on the pack, then looked around. A blanket would be nice, but she didn’t want to be too burdened down. Her cloak would have to do for bedding. With the moon shining tonight, there was no need for a lantern, even if she would have dared use anything that might help someone locate her.
    She wiped her hand on her trousers as she stared at the small package lying on the table and fought the revulsion that had been growing throughout the day. Then she gritted her teeth and stuffed the fancy into her left trouser pocket. Her folding knife went into the right pocket.
    Grabbing her dark cloak, Ari took one last look around. She’d let the fire in the main hearth go out and had banked the one in the stove. The windows were all shuttered and locked. She’d put every warding spell she knew on the cottage to keep it safe. She’d even extended one of the wardings to protect the cow shed and her garden.
    Nothing left to do.
    Taking a deep breath to steady herself, she slipped out of the cottage and paused to listen.
    Silence. Not even the usual night sounds.
    Would the Huntress be out tonight with her pack of great hounds, riding over the land while her moon banished the hiding places the hunted usually found in the night shadows?
    Fool, Ari thought as she closed the door and locked it. The Huntress wasn’t the only one who would be roaming the land tonight. And in truth, if she had to choose between Royce and the Wild Hunt, she’d rather take her chances with the hounds. At least with them it would end quickly.
    She pressed her hand against the door in farewell and headed toward the sea.
    A quick walk turned into a run until the stitch in her side forced her to stop. By then the cottage was out of sight.
    Royce wouldn’t look for her on this beach. Surely not. Even if he remembered it existed.
    She’d thought this out very carefully. Had thought of little else in the past two days. If the Gwynn women had any gift for magic, it was centered in their ability to brew love potions, so she couldn’t dismiss Granny Gwynn’s warning about the magic turning back on a person if it wasn’t properly released. Which meant she couldn’t just hide in the cottage. If Royce came to the door, she’d have to offer him the fancy
    —and herself, since she was sure he would accept it. But if she saw no one tonight, she wouldn’t be refusing the spell in the fancy, and since the offer had to be made on this particular night, the magic should fade harmlessly.
    She hoped.
    Another half a mile and she’d reach the rough path that led to the beach and the shallow cave in the cliff wall. Her mother had loved to come here, alone, on