and her dark brown eyes were focused on Darach with the same unnerving perception he had seen in Ceithin. "Hello, Darach, I'm Brigid, this idiot's sister."
"Dar—" He started to introduce himself then realized she had already called him by his name. Instantly, his suspicions arose once more. He gripped the reins harder, not willing to let go of his last means of escape should he need it. Ceithin offered his hand, but Darach just shook his head. "I'm happy here."
Ceithin just raised a single eyebrow with a smirk.
"The youngling thinks we are going to eat him."
Darach narrowed his eyes as Brigid slapped her brother around the back of his head.
" For Annwn ' s sake, don ' t tell me you— "
"Ouch." The tone of his voice was stern but he had a grin on his face.
"He has no respect." Brigid offered her hand to Darach. "Come on. I have people who would love to meet Kian's friend with the big heart." Funny how the smiling woman he had just met was easier to trust than Ceithin, who just stared at him, daring him to turn his sister down.
Huffing, he gripped her hand and slid as gracefully as he could from the mare's back, only stumbling slightly as the solid ground didn't give as he expected it to.
Chapter 5
Llewellyn Morgan, Ceithin's father, was a whole mountainside of intimidation. Not only did he have amber Fire, he was a big bear of a man with silver hair and a voice that was deep and certain and, at the moment, only barely this side of damn scary.
"You managed to save my son from the Council. We are grateful," he said simply as he held his hand out in welcome. Darach took the offered hand, excuses already on his lips.
"He didn't—" Ceithin attempted to interrupt. Darach smirked inwardly as Llewellyn pointedly stared Ceithin into silence.
Quite a few more people stopped to see Ceithin and the City man he had brought home with him. The one story, sprawling cabin where the Morgan family resided swarmed with Cariad as people stopped by to welcome the traveler home. Several of the visitors thanked Darach. But, and he had to be honest with himself, Ceithin was right. Darach had done little to help the Cariad escape. Darach ate with Ceithin's small family, listening to the bickering between Brigid and her husband, Alan, and Ceithin. At some points, Alan and Ceithin joined forces to annoy Brigid, but clearly she knew their measure.
Darach needed to get home, away from the Valley, or over to the Otherworld and Kian. On more than one occasion during supper, he made the effort to form the sentence in his head. Nothing happened. In spite of his feelings to the contrary, if he returned home, how would he learn more of Kian? What would happen to him back in the City? Would the Council exact punishment for his disobedience by removing his Fire? Was he doomed to remain here with these criminals in this village? And why did they not look more like the illustrations from the books he had read as a child? Rough and raw and ready to kill they were not.
In fact, they were clean, tidy, friendly, and smiling. Not one of them had leered at him, propositioned him, threatened him, or indeed done anything to suggest he was not a simple guest here. He listened and learned as much as he could from what he heard. They appeared to be a community of farmers, living from the land in this beautiful valley. Peaceful and calm, they used nature to its fullness, and the valley itself was warded against intruders. There were groups of Cariad spread out in this world, all communities living in apparent peace, and what he noticed most was that not one person who spoke used words of fear or intimidation. Years of hearing the worst and then being presented with reality made Darach uneasy. He had compartmentalized the Cariad into the same box as the devils in the night and the ghosts from old criminals, and it was hard to let the instinct to fear go.
They discussed why Darach had been looking for Ceithin. He was relying on Cariad assistance to pass
"Dar—" He started to introduce himself then realized she had already called him by his name. Instantly, his suspicions arose once more. He gripped the reins harder, not willing to let go of his last means of escape should he need it. Ceithin offered his hand, but Darach just shook his head. "I'm happy here."
Ceithin just raised a single eyebrow with a smirk.
"The youngling thinks we are going to eat him."
Darach narrowed his eyes as Brigid slapped her brother around the back of his head.
" For Annwn ' s sake, don ' t tell me you— "
"Ouch." The tone of his voice was stern but he had a grin on his face.
"He has no respect." Brigid offered her hand to Darach. "Come on. I have people who would love to meet Kian's friend with the big heart." Funny how the smiling woman he had just met was easier to trust than Ceithin, who just stared at him, daring him to turn his sister down.
Huffing, he gripped her hand and slid as gracefully as he could from the mare's back, only stumbling slightly as the solid ground didn't give as he expected it to.
Chapter 5
Llewellyn Morgan, Ceithin's father, was a whole mountainside of intimidation. Not only did he have amber Fire, he was a big bear of a man with silver hair and a voice that was deep and certain and, at the moment, only barely this side of damn scary.
"You managed to save my son from the Council. We are grateful," he said simply as he held his hand out in welcome. Darach took the offered hand, excuses already on his lips.
"He didn't—" Ceithin attempted to interrupt. Darach smirked inwardly as Llewellyn pointedly stared Ceithin into silence.
Quite a few more people stopped to see Ceithin and the City man he had brought home with him. The one story, sprawling cabin where the Morgan family resided swarmed with Cariad as people stopped by to welcome the traveler home. Several of the visitors thanked Darach. But, and he had to be honest with himself, Ceithin was right. Darach had done little to help the Cariad escape. Darach ate with Ceithin's small family, listening to the bickering between Brigid and her husband, Alan, and Ceithin. At some points, Alan and Ceithin joined forces to annoy Brigid, but clearly she knew their measure.
Darach needed to get home, away from the Valley, or over to the Otherworld and Kian. On more than one occasion during supper, he made the effort to form the sentence in his head. Nothing happened. In spite of his feelings to the contrary, if he returned home, how would he learn more of Kian? What would happen to him back in the City? Would the Council exact punishment for his disobedience by removing his Fire? Was he doomed to remain here with these criminals in this village? And why did they not look more like the illustrations from the books he had read as a child? Rough and raw and ready to kill they were not.
In fact, they were clean, tidy, friendly, and smiling. Not one of them had leered at him, propositioned him, threatened him, or indeed done anything to suggest he was not a simple guest here. He listened and learned as much as he could from what he heard. They appeared to be a community of farmers, living from the land in this beautiful valley. Peaceful and calm, they used nature to its fullness, and the valley itself was warded against intruders. There were groups of Cariad spread out in this world, all communities living in apparent peace, and what he noticed most was that not one person who spoke used words of fear or intimidation. Years of hearing the worst and then being presented with reality made Darach uneasy. He had compartmentalized the Cariad into the same box as the devils in the night and the ghosts from old criminals, and it was hard to let the instinct to fear go.
They discussed why Darach had been looking for Ceithin. He was relying on Cariad assistance to pass
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