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The Becoming (The Dragon Heart Legacy #2)(97)

Author:Nora Roberts

“Can you tell about the dreams?”

“The men in the robes would come, and it was dark and cold. The man there with the puppy, and this one there.”

She gestured to Toric.

“They made chants, and I felt sick when they did. And they said, or the one there—not the one with the puppy, the other—said—he said—” She pressed her face to her father’s leg.

“Taoiseach, may I speak for her?” Her father crouched down to stroke her hair. “May I speak the truth she spoke to us? Please.”

Before Keegan could agree, the girl shook her head. Tears spilled, but she turned back to Keegan. “He said on Samhain, we will wake her after she is bound to the stake on the pyre. And then her … her screams will rise as she burns. And the crackle of young flesh and bones will honor Odran.”

She swiped her face with her hands. “I was so afraid. Taoiseach, I wanted my ma to come. I wanted my da. But I couldn’t call out.”

“Anyone would have been afraid, little sister.”

“You wouldn’t. You’re taoiseach.”

“I would’ve been afraid. And can only hope as brave as you are now to speak these words. How did you get back to your family?”

“She came.” Alanis turned, pointed at, smiled at the elf sitting on the bench. “I could see a little, like a dream, and she came and picked me up, and carried me. She ran fast, fast. She’s an elf, you see, is Nila, and talked to me all the while, saying I was safe, and all was well, and saying my name.”

She knuckled more tears away, but continued her story.

“And I wasn’t so afraid, and started to wake. Truly wake. And then I was home, and everyone was crying and hugging me, and hugging Nila, who said she couldn’t stay for ale, thank you, because she was needed, but she’d come back when she could.”

“You’ve done well, Alanis. You may stay, of course, through to judgment, but if you like, there are other children you may wish to meet, and as your parents have agreed…”

Brigid came through another door, a wriggling spotted puppy in her arms.

“This bit of a girl here needs someone to look after her and give her a home.”

Tears vanished in joy as the girl reached for the puppy. “I can keep her as my own?”

“Sure she’s been waiting for you. Show them where they can run around a bit, won’t you, Brigid?”

“A thousand thanks.” As Alanis left with giggles, her father’s hand on her shoulder, her mother turned to Keegan, laid a hand on her heart.

“Bright blessings on you, Taoiseach.”

“And on you.”

He waited until the door closed behind them.

“Nila, will you speak?”

“I will, and gladly.”

She was tall, slender, young, but her voice carried strong.

When the elf finished her story, she sat, and Keegan called on another.

The man rose, twisting his cap in his hands as the woman beside him wept silently.

“They killed our boy, sir, our youngest boy. Toric himself came to us and said he’d heard our boy had a calling. In truth he’d spoken about joining the order, living a life of prayer, doing good works. And Toric said he would take the boy as an initiate, and he would begin service, continue his education. We thought it an honor, and he would be close, you see. He could come home once every week. He said—he said—they worked hard, the initiates, and slept rough, but it was good for the soul. And they ate well, and learned much.”

The man choked back a sob. “The last time or two he came home, he was so quiet, and seemed troubled. But he said he needed to pray on it, and was sad, as two of the other boys had run off.”

The man gathered himself. “And on Samhain, after the attack, and we couldn’t get through to try to get to our youngest, but thought him safe in those walls, you came yourself, to tell us he was dead.”

Keegan called on the Fey who’d seen the boys murdered, on the parents of the other boys. On others.

Then he looked at Breen, and even as dread at having to stand and speak filled her, he turned to the accused.

“What do you say to these words, these crimes of abduction and murder and sacrifice?”

All of them kept silent, refused to speak, until one of them fell forward, prostrated himself, bound hands outstretched. “I was misled. I ask for mercy. I was only a boy when I entered the order, and I believed all they taught. All Toric preached. I was misled, and never did I shed blood myself.”

“Only watched it shed?” Keegan said.

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