Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 92996 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 465(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92996 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 465(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
She spoke to me then, her voice deep and husky, beautiful and powerful. I heard her, all the words reached me, but unfortunately, I had no idea what she said.
“I’m sorry, my lady,” I respectfully replied. “I think that was Gaelic, but I’m not positive. I speak Spanish along with English, but that’s all.”
She tilted her head, and I watched as she took a breath. “You were on the road this evening.”
My lord Arawn had done the same thing. He too had first spoken to me in a language I didn’t understand, which I later found out was Middle Welsh. When he realized I had no idea what he was saying, he, like Elen now, switched. Amazing to be able to speak to anyone at any time in their own tongue.
“I was, my lady,” I responded, lowering my head in deference, seeing that she was walking toward me.
“Those beasts were not of your world.”
“No, they were not, my lady, and I thank you for protecting me and my party from them on the road, as well as in the cemetery.”
She made a soft noise of understanding, and then I saw the tip of her staff on the grass near my right knee. “Look to me.”
I lifted my head and met her beautiful dark-green eyes. There were two long braids on each side of her face, but the rest of her thick scarlet hair was being gently blown around her. I didn’t know about goddesses, but most of my ancestors reported that the ones they met looked like nymphs, perfect specimens of stunning beauty. Elen looked kind. She had a ruddy complexion, and there were freckles across her cheeks and nose. Her smile made me smile back, and the laugh lines around her eyes crinkled.
“You surmised correctly. You’re quite clever.”
I wanted to ask, when? But I didn’t want her to take back the compliment.
“Your grandfather was wise.”
“He was,” I agreed.
“He knew that cats ward evil spirits.”
“Yes.”
“One lies under your roof.”
“But my cat is not truly one,” I reminded her, certain she knew what Argos really was.
“And others would know that.”
Which was exactly what happened last night. “Others might mistake a woman for a witch as well.”
“If questioned and the answer given was, Yes, magic lives within me, then perhaps.”
I knew Kathy Hayes, and if anyone questioned her being a witch, she would have said that of course she was. She wouldn’t have known that answer could get her killed until it was too late. And now, since I knew Elen and I were having a conversation, and she was here to offer guidance, I asked, “Can’t the other tell who is and isn’t magic?”
“A lie cannot be detected in those who believe.”
Which was what I’d been saying to Lorne since I’d met him—that if you believed you were a witch, then you were one. And if other entities read your heart, looking or listening for a lie and did not perceive one, then you would be treated as precisely what you said you were.
“Come,” she said imperiously, and when I looked, I saw Lorne put his rifle on the ground and then jog across the long grass to reach me.
Once he was beside me, he took a knee.
“You are his mate, are you not?”
He cleared his throat. “Yes, ma’am.”
“My lady,” I corrected him.
“Yes, my lady,” he amended quickly.
She lifted her hand almost as if petting the air. “You are a conduit for his magic. The pathway flows through you. I see the energy ebb and flow.”
He glanced at me, uncertainty on his face. He had no idea if she thought that was a good thing or not. But he went with his go-to. “Thank you, my lady.”
She nodded.
“My lady Elen,” I began, glancing at him, then back to her—I didn’t want her to think I wasn’t giving her all my attention, “sent the deer to us, and the stag in the road.”
“You had concern for he who is mine, and that well pleased me.”
She meant the stag.
“We were worried about all the deer, my lady,” Lorne told her. “Not just the one.”
“Oh, I know,” she said with a hint of a smile before looking at me and pointing over her shoulder. “Why must that shrub not be burned?”
She meant the elder she’d been standing near.
“Because it’s sacred to you.”
“Yes. And why would we place one near our home?”
“To ward evil?”
Her eyes narrowed. “Evil?”
I was playing with fire. It was always necessary to convey exactly what one knew when questioned by a deity. “The devil,” I said. “That’s why people planted them.”
“Yes.”
I trembled slightly. “But we did not. My people did not. It was planted to strengthen the wards in the land.”
“Regardless, it will also keep one less than the fallen away. Those that are made.”
Made? I felt so stupid.
“Not the devil,” Lorne clarified, “but, as we suspected, a demon. One who is here conjuring evil to try and hurt you.”