Dragon's Moon (20 page)

“Oh, Ciara.” Abigail looked like she wanted to hug the younger woman, but she must have seen what Eirik did.

Ciara was barely holding her emotions in check and it didn't take a Chrechte's senses to discern that.

Ciara began to speak again, her tone void of the emotion swirling in her emerald eyes. “I began dreaming of the
Faolchú Chridhe
when I was barely out of leading strings. I did not know what it was at first, but then I told Galen about my dreams. I thought he would make fun of me.”

“He didn't,” Eirik interjected with certainty.

She looked up at him briefly and shook her head. “He believed my dreams were prophetic, that I would lead him to the wolves' sacred stone. At first, he made it a game, taking me into the forest to search. Those were such happy days, but then our da died and Galen changed.”

“It was no game for him.” And never had been, of that Eirik was certain. Particularly in light of the fact that if his sister was the keeper of the stone as her new friend Mairi claimed, Galen would have had the bloodline to call on the power of the stone as well.

“Or the friends who shared his hatred of the Éan.” His voice came out harsher than he meant it to be, but the thought of one such as her brother having the power of a Chrechte's sacred stone was chilling.

“No. It was no game for them. That's what we were doing that awful day, when Luag smelled ravens and decided to go hunting instead of searching for a myth. Galen had started bringing his friend along on our searches, but neither of them listened to me about where to look. They were so convinced they knew the right of things.”

“And yet they were completely deceived,” Lais said.

Ciara took a deep breath and let it out. “Yes.”

“Luag did not believe in your dreams.” Eirik was certain the Donegal wolf would never have gone hunting the Éan children if he had. The
Faolchú Chridhe
would have been far too important a find.

“Not like Galen did, no.” She bit her lip again and Eirik's dragon rumbled in his chest. “He wanted to believe he could have the power of the stone.”

“If he was your brother, he would have been able to call it forth,” Mairi said with utter conviction.

Ciara did not reply, but Eirik nodded his agreement. The Sinclair did not appear happy at that possibility.

Guaire asked, “You never found signs of the stone?”

He'd been silent thus far, but Eirik could see the seneschal taking things in and weighing their import. Eirik had noticed the human doing so before, when working with Eirik and the laird to settle the Éan among the clan.

When he made an observation, it was always on target and of benefit. Talorc was lucky to have such a seneschal.

“No,” Ciara answered. “No sign at all.”

But still she believed the
Faolchú Chridhe
was out there to be found. Her connection to it had to be very strong.

“And you are still dreaming about it?” Guaire asked.

“Yes.”

Guaire nodded. “Clearly, you must heed these dreams.”

Niall nodded his agreement. The Sinclair scowled and Eirik knew it bothered him that his daughter had been plagued by something he could not fix, regardless of his strength and position.

“If for no other reason than that until you do, you will continue to lose sleep,” Abigail said with a look of motherly concern to Ciara.

Eirik moved his hand from her shoulder to the nape of Ciara's neck, giving a squeeze to let her know she was not alone. He did not question the impulse. For now he would follow the instincts of his beast.

“The dreams have grown urgent. The stone calls to me now, even when I am awake.” She looked up at Eirik, her green gaze haunted, before turning her attention to her adopted father. “I cannot sleep. I cannot eat. The
Faolchú Chridhe
must be found.”

“Aye.” There was a wealth of determination and the confidence of a clan chief in that single word.

Ciara released a soft sigh of relief. No matter that the secrets she kept might imply otherwise, she trusted the Sinclair. Wholly and completely.

She would learn she could trust Eirik just as deeply. His
dragon demanded it and his raven insisted it should already be that way.

“Before my father and his cronies find it,” Mairi added, fear wafting off of her in a sour wave.

The laird turned on her. “Your father knows of the
Faolchú Chridhe
?”

Mairi jumped, but she settled and her fear dissipated in the air around them when Lais put his arm across her shoulder and tugged her into his side.

Her face pinked with embarrassment though and despite the obvious comfort it gave her, she tried to push Lais away. He didn't budge.

She frowned up at him, confusion clear in her blue gaze. Lais merely smiled and Eirik found his own lips curving in amusement. It would not be an easy mating, but it would be a good one.

Mairi then gave a good imitation of someone unaware that a warrior twice her size stood so close. “Many of the Faol know old stories about the
Faolchú Chridhe
. Chrechte history is taught to the young in some packs with far more diligence than it sounds like it is among the Sinclairs.”

The pack alpha could have taken offense at what was clearly the accusation of a shortcoming, but he merely nodded. “You are right. My grandfather wanted our pack to integrate more fully into the clan and decreed the ancient stories were no more than myth and there was little benefit in sharing them.”

Ciara gasped in shock.

Talorc's mouth twisted in an understanding grimace. “It is surprising considering how important he thought that the ancient Chrechte laws are to all of us.”

“Perhaps it is time to change things in our pack,” Abigail said.

The Sinclair gave his wife an approving look and nodded. “Perhaps it is.”

“But the MacLeod has more recent information than old stories, does he not?” Guaire asked Mairi, his tone musing.

“He does. My mother had the sight as well,” Mairi said,
sounding apologetic, though Eirik could not understand why. “She dreamed of the stone when she was pregnant with me. I think because my father is distantly related to the family of the
Faolchú Chridhe
.”

“You said last night that Ciara was the keeper of the stone,” Eirik said.

“She is. Unlike my father, she is of direct descent from the original keepers of the stone. She is the princess of the Faol. If we lived in the days of our ancestors, she would be our queen.” Mairi looked at Ciara, her blue gaze shining with esteem and hope.

Ciara shook her head, a sound of protest coming from her, her distress clear. Shock was in the air around them, and worry.

Eirik ignored it all to drop to his haunches in front of the reluctant princess. He willed her to meet his gaze and she did so, her head coming up just enough that her emerald eyes locked with his.

“To be a keeper of the stone is a great responsibility, but it is also a blessing.”

She tried to shake her head, but his hold on her face stopped her. “I don't want to be a princess.”

“Would you deny your children their rightful place among the Faol because yours was denied you?”

“No. Of course not. I'm not going to have any children!” she wailed.

His dragon rumbled in denial of that statement, but Eirik did his best to ignore it. “There is nothing to fear in this.”

“There is everything to fear.”

“I will help you.”

“You hate me.”

“I don't.”

“But—”

“Trust me.”

“You are truly a prince…I am just a—”

“There is no just. The stone has called to you, claimed you. You can do naught but answer that call.” He had
known this since he was a small boy. To be born into the royal family of a Chrechte people dictated much about a man's life from birth.

He would help Ciara learn to deal with this truth.

“I am also a seer and I have dreamed of the power for good she wields with the stone.” Mairi's voice rang with conviction.

“Ciara is a direct descendant of the original keepers of the stone, of Faol royalty?” the Sinclair asked as if still trying to take in the truth.

There was no doubt in Mairi's set expression. “Yes.”

“I can't be,” Ciara said, but her voice lacked any conviction. Her eyes beseeched Eirik. “Wouldn't my parents have told me, my brother at the very least?”

Eirik foolishly wished in that moment he could lie. “As you said, he had plans to wield the power of the stone on his own behalf.”

“But we were family.”

“And he saw the goodness in you, the inability to hate another race of our people simply because they were different in their beast nature.” And finally, Eirik knew that to be true.

He still did not trust this woman entirely. She hid too many secrets, but he did not doubt that she had never intended the Éan harm.

“He wanted to create
conriocht
,” she admitted in a whisper.

Lais gasped. Mairi moaned with worry, but Talorc and Eirik met one another's gaze with purpose. The
Faolchú Chridhe
would be found and brought to safety before it could fall into the hands of Chrechte that would misuse its power to destroy other shifters.

“All will be well,” he promised her, willing her to believe him.

Finally, she nodded, worrying her lower lip.

He groaned and before Eirik could give into an almost overwhelming need to kiss the Faol princess, he surged to his feet and moved back to his stance at her side.

“There is an elder among the Balmoral that knows
all the ancient stories of the Faol,” the Sinclair said in a tone that showed more than anything how much he regretted there was no such elder among his own clan. “We need to speak to him.”

“I will go to Balmoral Island,” Eirik announced, not even considering the laird might prefer to send a Faol for this mission.

But Talorc nodded his approval. “You will lead this quest.”

“What? Why?” Ciara asked, clearly uncomfortable with her adopted father's edict.

What did she think? That Eirik as an Éan would do something sinister with the wolves' sacred stone? Little did she know, but the sacred stones of the Chrechte could not be destroyed and the
Faolchú Chridhe
would continue to call to Ciara until it was found and used by her.

The Sinclair looked like he would not answer his daughter's challenge, but Abigail smacked him on the shoulder and Talorc's expression changed.

Whatever the laird's wife had said to him over the mindspeak of mates, he looked properly chastised. “As prince of the Éan, Eirik's knowledge of the
Clach Gealach Gra
and ability to defeat any who would try to take possession of the
Faolchú Chridhe
make him the best warrior for this mission.”

“I am sorry I questioned your decision, laird.”

“I do not expect the same unquestioning acceptance of my orders from family as I do my soldiers,” the clan chief said, as if reciting something he had heard many times before.

Eirik had to stifle an urge to smile, confident he knew exactly where the laird had heard those words from. Abigail's smile of approval confirmed his guess.

Talorc turned to Eirik. “You will take Ciara with you. As she is the keeper of the stone, Abigail believes it will continue to draw her to itself.” The Sinclair's jaw hardened, his head giving a short jerk as if in answer to a silent question. “And your dragon will continue to protect her dreams so that she does not become ill.”

Eirik noted he was not the only one biting back amusement at his laird's obvious discomfort at having given permission for such. But once again, the man's wife looked quite pleased and he for one, had no desire to draw her wrath.

She was a wily one, he knew.

Ciara opened her mouth to speak, but whatever she meant to say, whether protest or acquiescence, was drowned out by Mairi's plea. “Please let me go, too. I have had many dreams of this stone…I don't know why, but I feel I am supposed to come on this journey as well.”

Lais frowned down at her. “You need more time to heal.”

“Is it that you feel that you should be there, or you crave the wolf your dreams have told you the stone will give to you?” Eirik asked, remembering what the human woman had claimed the night she was found.

Mairi showed no signs of embarrassment at his question. “If you had been beaten as often as I have for nothing more than the fact I have no wolf, you would not be so dismissive about the power of the
Faolchú Chridhe
to heal
all
Chrechte. It is my right as much as any other to be gifted that healing.”

“Of course it is,” Abigail inserted.

And no one gainsaid her. She was human, but she was lady of the clan and an acknowledged member of the pack despite her lack of wolf.

Mairi nodded her thanks and then frowned at Eirik. “But that is
not
why I believe I am supposed to be there. Once the stone is found, many will be touched by its power. My turn will come, later or sooner, but it will come. I must be allowed to accompany you on this quest because such is in my dreams. If God gives you a vision, do you cut out the bits that are not convenient or logical and expect the vision to come to pass?”

Eirik shook his head at the warm approval in Lais's eyes for Mairi's words. The man had it bad, but it was no excuse for condoning the human woman's disrespectful tone.

Ciara's glare directed at Eirik was even more unwelcome,
however, and he arched one brow in question. What had he done?

“Answer her,” Ciara demanded.

Eirik opened his mouth to lambast both women for their disrespect and then repeated Mairi's words in his head and decided she had some reason for her acerbic tone. “I have never had a vision. I would not know.”

“I have,” Mairi said. “More importantly, my mother taught me the importance of paying attention to every tiny aspect to these special dreams. If she had, she would still be alive.”