“No, I don’t think she’ll come back to the Clans. I think, not too many years from now, Ari will look into her baby daughter’s eyes and recognize the spirit looking back at her. And when that day comes, Morag will be home.” Turning the dark horse, she added, “Blessings of the day to you,” and rode away.

He stared after her.

“The dark horse,” Lyrra whispered. “The puppy.”

Aiden nodded. “From the moment she decided to take the dark horse, she’s been preparing for that day, whenever it will come.” He wiped the tears from his eyes and took a deep breath to steady himself. “Come along, wife. Let’s see if we can find our own place in the world.”

Backtracking a few steps, they headed down the unmarked road.

Wiccandale was still the prettiest village Aiden had ever seen. The first time they’d ridden down this main street, he and Lyrra had been traveling to Bretonwood, still searching for the Hunter, and the people’s wariness of strangers had provided a cold welcome—until Minstrel changed the tune. This time, when they rode to the tavern, men nudged each other and smiled. Women pointed at Minstrel and whispered something to their children that made the children laugh.

“So you’ve come back,” the tavern owner said, coming out to stand in his doorway. “And in good time as well. Come along, then. I’ll show you the cottage and you can decide if it suits you.” He turned his head and shouted, “Kellie! The Bard, the Muse, and the dancing horse have come. I’ll be showing them old Nara’s cottage.”

“Tell them to come back for supper!” a woman shouted in reply. “They’ll not be wanting to cook their own supper their first night.”

“Done and done. I’m Gavin, by the way. Come along. It isn’t far.” He set off at a brisk walk.

Bewildered, Aiden and Lyrra urged the horses to follow him.

He was right. The cottage wasn’t far, but it was set off by itself.

“It was the women in Nara’s family who first walked the boundaries of Wiccandale and gave the wiccanfae a place to call their own that wasn’t quite Clan, wasn’t quite a human village but a bit of both, do you see? And so it’s been with us. There’s more witches among us than in times past, but there’s still plenty of us who are wiccanfae.”

“I’m wiccanfae,” Lyrra murmured.

“Are you, now? Well, then.”

The cottage was lovely, warm and welcoming, but Gavin didn’t give them time to linger before herding them back outside.