“Do you see? The other side, his side. Yseult. White streaks through her hair. Leaching her power because she pushes and pushes, trembling as she shouts the words against the wind. I can’t hear them, not clear. I don’t know them. It’s a strange tongue to me. As she shouts, as the wind rises, he strikes with his sword. A black goat, a demon dog, a young girl crying for her mother. So the river runs red with their blood, and the red mists rise from it and stain the water from the fall.”
Her head spun; her power swelled.
“Rising, rising until the moons are stained with blood. Animal, demon, human in sacrifice. It bubbles and boils, the river, the falls. She drops to her knees, her hair more white than red now. And Odran glides over the boiling river, and with a clap like thunder, with a flash like lightning, his hand passes through the falls and into Talamh.”
Shaking now, Breen fought for breath. “Do you see?”
“Not clearly, no, and only through you, not the globe. The globe is yours.” With his hand sliding around Breen’s waist to keep her upright, Keegan turned to Loga. “I’ll trade whatever you need for it, bring it to you this night. My word on it.”
“No need. It’s hers. We aren’t fools here. Is this the now, the before, or the yet to come?”
“Not now. Not before.” Breen leaned against Keegan as she clutched the globe. “I don’t know when to come. I don’t know when, but he can’t see me. He still can’t see.”
“Get the daughter some wine,” Sul ordered.
“Water, please. Just water.”
“Summer,” Keegan said. “Leaves were full, and in Talamh, the foxglove and dog rose stood tall and blooming. The one coming, another after, I can’t say, but summer. We’ll start back when you feel able.”
“I can ride.”
“Then we ride.”
* * *
She tried not to think just how much trickier it could be riding down a mountain than it had been going up. And the fact she could actually see the trickier, the skinny trails or tight turns.
The long, long way down.
“You’ve learned how to cleanse and charge the crystals?”
“Yes.”
“You’ll need a proper place to keep them.”
“I have one. The table on the second-floor hallway that Seamus made.”
“That’ll do well enough. It was my fault,” he continued. “Not explaining to you about touching a troll. I didn’t think of it. And in truth, I didn’t expect it from Sul, who’s a clever woman, a cagey one, but sensible. Then, as I said, trolls can be prickly.”
“Pregnancy can make some even pricklier.”
He turned in the saddle so abruptly, her breath caught. “Look where you’re going!”
“Merlin knows. You’re saying Sul’s carrying?”
“If you want my heart to keep beating, watch where you’re going. Yes, she’s pregnant.” She let out a long, relieved breath when Keegan turned back around. “I wasn’t sure if she knew, or if she wanted anyone else to know.”
“Ah, so you wanted a private word. You came out wearing her earrings, so I take it she didn’t know, and was pleased.”
“She didn’t, and she was very pleased.”
“As Loga will be when she tells him. You handled that very well and proper, as you did the rest of it.”
“You’re talking to me—when you don’t usually do a lot of talking—and being nice because you don’t want me to panic going down this mountain.”
“I talk when I’ve something to say.”
“You can keep talking now because it’s working pretty well. You’re sure it was summer, what I saw? I was so focused on Odran and Yseult, and what was happening, I didn’t notice leaves or flowers.”
“I’m sure, aye. We have other seers, and with what I can tell them, they can look.”
“You don’t want me to look again.”
“You will whether I want it or not, won’t you? But more eyes are always helpful. It was entertaining, I thought, the way you explained to Loga how to toast and eat a bagel. I’ll have to try it myself.”
“You haven’t had a bagel? Ever?”
“I haven’t, no, but expect since Marco made them, they’ll be brilliant. So … the book you’re writing. Is it going well for you?”
He dug for conversation now, she thought, and found that touching. He kept her talking until they’d navigated the rocky trail down into the forest. They were losing the light, so she didn’t ask to stop and rest, though every cell in her body longed for ten minutes off the horse.