“I don’t know how that happened.”
“If you don’t, you will.” Speaking easily, Tarryn poured from a decanter. “I’d take you up to my rooms and mix a potion for you, but this will do. You’re stronger than you think, and showed that well and fine this day. Marg will be so proud.”
“I was so angry, and so twisted up listening to those parents—those boys—and then it was so fast.”
“Your gift, your power comes from your heart and your belly as much as your mind. Your belly holds the anger, your heart the compassion. Your mind the will.”
She patted Breen into a chair before pouring wine for Marco. “Drink some wine now, Marco. What a good friend you are. He stood beside you, Breen, did you know? The whole time. He stood with you, for you.”
“No, I didn’t know. But of course he would.”
“You’d do the same for me.”
“I have to leave you now, as Keegan needs me for the rest. But you stay here as long as you wish. No one will disturb you.”
“Tarryn, thank you. Thanks for giving me a hand when I might’ve—probably would’ve—passed out and spoiled the moment.”
“Can’t have that now, can we? It was such a bloody thrilling one.”
When she left by the open doors, Marco dropped down with Breen.
“All but shit my pants, girl. It was a damn close thing. You were— It was more than the other night. More than anything. You were practically on fire. You were that bright, that fierce. And the air’s spinning around, and the light’s pulsing, and … Whew. I’m gonna need more wine.”
“I don’t know where the words came from, Marco, but I knew them. I meant them. And what was in me? It was so strong, but it didn’t scare me. Because it was mine. Right after, I felt shaky, sort of like I did the first time I came through the portal. But that’s going now.”
“What do you feel like now?”
“Steady,” she realized, and held out a hand, nodded when it didn’t tremble. “Steady.”
“That’s my girl. Told you to wear that outfit, didn’t I? Kick-ass. And that’s what you did.”
She laughed, gulped some wine. “Yeah, the pants did the job.”
* * *
Deep in the woods, Keegan stood. Only his mother and Mahon remained now. He’d looked at the dark, listened to the howling wind through the portal he’d opened. As only the taoiseach had the power and the words to unlock it and seal it again. He’d seen that maw swallow the judged and the banished, and knew this was justice.
They could live in that dark world, but without magicks, without joy, without the peace and freedom Talamh offered all.
That, he thought, was the keen, cruel edge of justice.
They could live.
He held the staff, pulsing still from the energy called, but it had already begun to quiet. His mind, Keegan knew, would take longer to quiet.
He turned to Mahon. “Go home to your wife and children.”
“I go when the taoiseach goes.”
Keegan shook his head. “There’s no need for you to stay. What needed to be done is done. The rest, gods spare me, is bloody politics and formalities. The Welcome tonight, a full council meeting, and the open Judgment tomorrow. Take this time, brother, as I’ll want you with me when I go south to see to the razing.”
“Fly home.” Tarryn cupped Mahon’s face. “My daughter is strong, but a woman creating life welcomes a steadying hand. Take this time, as Keegan says, for we can’t know how much we have before Odran strikes again.”
“All right then. I can do some scouting on the way home. I can detour to the south and see how it’s holding.”
“We left Mallo and Rory overseeing the cleanup and rebuilding. That’s enough for the now. But you could take a swing to the north so we’re certain all’s well.”
“And so I will, and I’ll round back again if there’s anything you need to know. Well then, you’ll feast well tonight, that’s certain, but I’ve the better bargain by far, as I’ll be at my own table without having to put on the fancy.”
“Push my face into that, I’ll have you stay in my stead while I go home.”
“Too late for that. I follow the orders of the taoiseach. Blessed be.” He kissed Tarryn, gripped Keegan’s shoulder. Then, spreading his wings, he rose up and flew north.
“You asked him to scout north so he’d go willingly and without argument. This,” Tarryn said, tapping a finger on her son’s chest, “is politics and diplomacy.”