Ella linked arms with her husband and mother. “Blessings of the day to you, Lady Selena.”

Mistrunner stamped his foot, jingled the bridle.

Selena mounted. Her white overdress, split at the waist to make riding easy, flowed down Mistrunner’s sides. Since the horse had been impatient about her delay, she felt annoyed at the way the gray stallion stood still while Rhyann twitched folds of the overdress into place until she was satisfied with the way it looked.

When Rhyann stepped back, Mistrunner turned in the direction of the clearing where the Ladies of the Moon would gather. As he cantered across the meadow to the forest trail that would take her to the clearing, Selena put aside her worries and fears and surrendered to the power that was calling her to the dance.

Dianna rode her pale mare to the edge of the circle of women. Dozens of women, Ladies of the Moon, had come to witness this challenge to her authority, to her power. She’d spent the day studying her potential rivals and had seen no one who could meet her in a test of power. But someone had challenged. Someone’s gift was ascending in a way that required challenge. She’d wondered about the five women who had come from the western Clans, then had dismissed them. Except Gwynith. That one had power. Not enough to defeat her, but enough power that, if it grew any stronger, she might be a serious rival. Perhaps, after she’d reestablished her dominance over all the other Ladies of the Moon, she would strip the gift from Gwynith, just to avoid another challenge in a year or two. After all, it was her right to do so.

If there was no challenger, why had they been drawn here by the feel of power ready to ascend? And why here? She should have chosen the Old Place where the challenger would meet her. The place was always decided by the one who ruled a particular gift. If she hadn’t made the choice, who had?

She dismounted, handing her pale mare over to one of her escorts to lead back to the edge of the clearing. She strode past the other women, who hurriedly stepped aside. She took two steps into the circle before she stopped, frozen by a rush of jagged fear.

Power filled the very center of the clearing, pulsing with the need to be released. So much power. But there was something…not quite right…about it. It was almost as if the power was the challenger, daring any of them to find a way to take it without being consumed by it.

But that wasn’t right. Couldn’t be right. The challenge to ascend and rule a gift always came from another Fae, not the gift itself.

She took six more steps toward the center of the clearing and what waited there, then stopped, unable to force herself to go any closer.