Chapters (61)
- Cover
- Praise for Anne Bishop
- Also by Anne Bishop
- THE HOUSE OF GAIAN
- Copyright
- ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- Chapter 15
- Chapter 16
- Chapter 17
- Chapter 18
- Chapter 19
- Chapter 20
- Chapter 21
- Chapter 22
- Chapter 23
- Chapter 24
- Chapter 25
- Chapter 26
- Chapter 27
- Chapter 28
- Chapter 29
- Chapter 30
- Chapter 31
- Chapter 32
- Chapter 33
- Chapter 34
- Chapter 35
- Chapter 36
- Chapter 37
- Chapter 38
- Chapter 39
- Chapter 40
- Chapter 41
- Chapter 42
- Chapter 43
- Chapter 44
- Chapter 45
- Chapter 46
- Chapter 47
- Chapter 48
- Chapter 49
- Chapter 50
- Chapter 51
- Chapter 52
- Chapter 53
- Chapter 54
- Chapter 55
Selena stopped fiddling with the saddlebags already tied to Mistrunner’s saddle, took a deep breath, then turned to face the people watching her. Their hopeful smiles scraped her raw nerves. Ella and Mildred had spent the day fussing over her; washing and pressing the slim white trousers and the split overdress; preparing a bath for her; helping her wash and dry her long black hair; urging her to rest and eat and rest some more. Chad and Parker had cleaned all her tack and then brushed Mistrunner until his coat gleamed. And all through the day were the excited murmurs spoken not quite out of her hearing about how there would finally be a Huntress who was one of them, who would stand by the witches and be the protector she was meant to be—and had been once a long time ago.
But nothing she heard indicated that Ella or Mildred understood why the Huntress was the protector. If witches who lived beyond the Mother’s Hills no longer remembered why the Ladies of the Moon were connected to the Mother’s Daughters, had the Fae forgotten as well?
And what will they say when I tell them why they’re standing in that clearing tonight? Should I tell them? If they had known before, would they have stood back and watched a part of Sylvalan die under pain and fear and hatred? How will they react to an outsider telling them a truth I doubt they want to hear? How can they deny it when the truth is in their own blood and bones?
Rhyann stepped forward and placed her hands on Selena’s shoulders. As she kissed her sister’s cheek, she whispered, “You’re thinking too much. Just go to the dance. Celebrate the gift that wants to rise in you.”
“I don’t know if I’ll be able to come back here afterward,” Selena whispered, her arms going around Rhyann and holding her close.
“You won’t be coming back. You’ll have to deal with the Fae—and give them a chance to understand what it means to deal with you.”
Selena leaned back. “What does that mean?”
Rhyann just grinned.
She tried, but she couldn’t return Rhyann’s grin. “Where will you go tomorrow? Will you try to find the source of your dream?”
Rhyann shook her head. “South…and west. It’s pulling me now. I feel like I’m a key. If I can find the door…”
“Remember your promise to father—and to me. Don’t travel alone south or east of the midlands.”
“I’ll remember if you will.”
Selena hugged Rhyann, reluctant to let go.
“The dance waits,” Rhyann said softly.
“I know.” Selena drew back until they were no longer touching. “Merry meet…”
“…and merry part…”
“…and merry meet again.” Selena looked at Ella and her family. “Thank you…for everything.”