Page 74 of The Crown of Moonlight
Flora
T
he Shadehounds flank me as I run, Shadow staying close, her breath like cool mist against my calf.Shade darts ahead a short distance, then pauses to look around before catching up again.
Fury is a prod in my back, driving me deeper into the trees.The Riders are making no effort to be silent as they chase me.I hear them arguing.
“Hold up, you idiots!Don’t go after her yet.”That’s the tall one.
“Nothing like a good hunt.”The dark-haired one again, that dry drawl.“I know you feel it, Ronan.”
“Wait for Chyr,” Ronan—the tall one—says.“We can’t do anything without the Master.”
My stomach coils into a knot.Their voices fade as I run.My eyes blur, and I stumble on a branch in the dim moonlight spearing through the trees.I catch myself, a hand scraping against rough bark.One of the Shadehounds whines and nudges me to keep going.My palm is slick with blood, but some part of me is numb, and the pain is distant.
Somewhere, a horse whinnies.I don’t think it’s coming from where Eira and Bramble are tied, but I can’t be sure.
Lungs burning, I sprint faster.And the longer I run, the more I understand the instinct that warned me to escape, the reasoning my body grasped before my mind could even think it through.
As long as the Riders hunt me, I have to run.It’s more than their arrogance and condescension I’m escaping.If they decide I know too much about Chyr, they might kill me to protect him.I can’t risk that.Too many people depend on me.With Mairi, her father, and her children, I’ve added even more.
My breath comes in gasps by the time I reach the horses.Then there’s another choice.Another goodbye.
No horse can carry two Evers for any distance, and the moon is already descending.If I take both horses, Chyr would never reach safety by dawn, much less Muilean by Beltane Eve.Then there’d be no army coming from Tirnaeve.Chyr and his Riders may have little regard for us, but Vheara has none at all.
I’ll leave Chyr a horse because I have no choice, but that’s another heartbreak.It will have to be Bramble.Eira’s more likely to hurt herself or throw a rider she doesn’t know.But Bramble was one of the first foals I helped deliver.I dried her off myself the night she was born.How can I leave her behind?
My hand shakes as I reach for her.She snuffs at me, and I press my forehead to hers.“Be good for the Ever, and come back to me somehow,” I whisper.“You’ll always be my best girl.”
The tears I’ve been holding back spill down my cheeks, my breath as ragged as my thoughts.All I can hope is that Chyr will find a way to send her back to me.I have to trust him at least that much.
I mount Eira and turn her back towards Glen Fhionain with the Shadehounds trotting behind me.
Spiderweb clouds still chase over the moon, the light dimming at inconvenient moments.Without Chyr’s magical scoutlight to guide me, I’m forced to slow down.We’ve barely topped the second furze-covered hillock before hoofbeats pound closer after us.
I nudge Eira into a copse of trees to let the Riders pass.A scoutlight flares, and four horses crest the rise behind me.Chyr’s with them—I can sense him—and the light gives him speed I can’t match.
Then Eira makes hiding pointless.She whinnies as she picks up Bramble’s scent, and Bramble answers.Chyr changes direction, riding towards me.The other Riders follow.
I reach for magic in the air, hesitant at first.But I know the feel of it now, and the wind gusts as I push it through the trees to cover the sound of my escape.Angling uphill, I cut towards the pass above Glen Fhionain.The wind howls behind me.Trunks groan, and branches snap.
We plunge into a narrow glen and through a stream, the Shadehounds splashing across behind us.Eira stumbles coming out on the other side.
A stone dislodges, knocking into another with a staccato snap that echoes off the braes.I keep the wind blowing, channelling it around me instead of through me.That takes less effort, and the Veilstone barely heats against my skin.
Reining Eira to a stop, I let the wind drop and listen for the Riders, feel for them.One of the Shadehounds gives a soft growl.I sense the horses before I hear them.They’re close.Closer.
I whip the wind back through the birch-covered hills and kick Eira into a hard canter, darting back among the trees.
“There, up the slope.Catch her!”someone shouts.It sounds like Chyr.My heart squeezes in recognition, but that only makes me more determined.
Hoofbeats sound closer.A vice of panic grips my chest.
Siorai magic writhes within me, eager to be released.But I reach for the power in the air and the water, Cailleach power.Grasping the clouds ahead, I gather them and drive them behind me to form a cloaking mist.With the clouds thinning ahead, the moon reaches through the trees and lights the way in front of me.
Eira and I race downhill, back to the drovers’ road around the loch.She has speed on the flat.I lean forward, my weight in the stirrups.Her mane lashes my wrists.She stretches her neck, giving me everything she has.Unable to keep up, the Shadehounds drop back into the grey mist I’ve created.
Another goodbye.
