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Chapters (61)
  1. Cover
  2. Praise for Anne Bishop
  3. Also by Anne Bishop
  4. THE HOUSE OF GAIAN
  5. Copyright
  6. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  7. Chapter 1
  8. Chapter 2
  9. Chapter 3
  10. Chapter 4
  11. Chapter 5
  12. Chapter 6
  13. Chapter 7
  14. Chapter 8
  15. Chapter 9
  16. Chapter 10
  17. Chapter 11
  18. Chapter 12
  19. Chapter 13
  20. Chapter 14
  21. Chapter 15
  22. Chapter 16
  23. Chapter 17
  24. Chapter 18
  25. Chapter 19
  26. Chapter 20
  27. Chapter 21
  28. Chapter 22
  29. Chapter 23
  30. Chapter 24
  31. Chapter 25
  32. Chapter 26
  33. Chapter 27
  34. Chapter 28
  35. Chapter 29
  36. Chapter 30
  37. Chapter 31
  38. Chapter 32
  39. Chapter 33
  40. Chapter 34
  41. Chapter 35
  42. Chapter 36
  43. Chapter 37
  44. Chapter 38
  45. Chapter 39
  46. Chapter 40
  47. Chapter 41
  48. Chapter 42
  49. Chapter 43
  50. Chapter 44
  51. Chapter 45
  52. Chapter 46
  53. Chapter 47
  54. Chapter 48
  55. Chapter 49
  56. Chapter 50
  57. Chapter 51
  58. Chapter 52
  59. Chapter 53
  60. Chapter 54
  61. 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.”