Shadows and Light

felt tears welling up. She shut her eyes to hold them back.
    “Yes, he stood with you, and he stood by us during the green years. But the season has changed, Ashk, and Sylvalan needs the Hunter. So I have to let you go.”
    Ashk swallowed the tears. She drew in a breath and choked on a sob.
    “No,” Padrick murmured, cradling her. “No regrets, Ashk. No tears. We’ll get through this. We will. The seasons will turn again, and we’ll have more green years ahead of us.”
    “I don’t want to leave you and the children.”
    “I know. We’ll be here, waiting for you.”
    Ashk wiped her eyes. After a long pause, she said, “I’m going to cut my hair.”
    Padrick shifted, propping himself on one elbow to look down at her. “Cut your hair?”
    He sounded so shocked, she almost smiled. “I can’t take the chance of having a braid come loose and the hair tangling with the arrows when I need one.”
    “I know, but... Will you braid it first so that it can be kept?”
    Now she did smile. “I doubt Caitlin needs or wants her mother’s braided hair.”
    His voice was rough with emotion. “I’m not asking for Caitlin.”
    She nodded, afraid she’d end up weeping if she tried to speak. When she thought she had enough control, she took a deep breath, let it out in a sigh. “I’d better get it done.”
    Padrick rolled, pinning her to the bed. “Not yet. The Hunter will rise from this bed, and that’s the way it needs to be. So let me make love to the Green Lady one last time.”
    Ashk wrapped her arms around him. “One last time.”

Chapter Thirty-one
    Gritty-eyed and achy from a restless night and too little sleep, Morag stepped out of the Clan house. She shivered in the cool morning air and wished she’d thought to bring a shawl with her. Usually she enjoyed the coolness of morning before the day yielded to summer heat. Now she wanted the heat and bright sunlight of midday. She wanted to sit somewhere open and quiet and let the heat bake the tension out of her body, melt the worry that had chased her through her dreams.
    Sylvalan will change, no matter what Ashk decides today. The question is, can we live with how it changes?
    Hearing movement behind her, Morag glanced over her shoulder. Aiden and Lyrra stood in the doorway, looking at the Fae who were helping themselves to tea and hot breads from the outdoor stove. Neither of them looked like they’d had an easy night.
    “Blessings of the day to you, Morag,” Aiden said.
    “Blessings of the day,” Morag replied. She looked at Lyrra, then at the Fae going about their usual morning tasks. “They’re no different from who they were yesterday.”
    “I know,” Lyrra said. “But...”
    But now you know why they’re different from the rest of us.
    The rattle of wheels caught Morag’s attention. A few moments later, Ari and Neall arrived in the pony cart, followed by Morphia and Sheridan on horseback.
    “Come along, then,” Morag said briskly. She headed for the large table, sure that Aiden and Lyrra would follow, if for no other reason than because Ari, Neall, and Morphia were familiar faces in a world that had turned strange.
    “There was no reason for you to be bringing back all that food,” Beitris scolded. “You should have kept it so that you could have a rest day after the dance.” She set clean cups on the table while another woman brought over a pot of tea.
    “We kept plenty,” Ari said. “The cold cellar is stuffed, isn’t it?” She turned to Neall as she said it.
    “Stuffed,” Neall agreed, grinning.
    Morag glanced at Morphia, then quickly looked away, biting her lower lip to keep from laughing.
    Watching Ari deal with this Clan’s Lady of the Hearth was always entertaining.
    Beitris sniffed. “And I suppose the young Lord bundled you up and had you out the door this morning before you could have so much as a sip of tea.”
    “No, he didn’t,” Ari huffed. “I had— Oh. What kind of bread is that?”
    “Apple nut,” Beitris said. “Would you like to try a piece?”
    “Yes, thank you.”
    “Well,” Neall said. “So much for ‘I’m too full from last night’s meal to finish my porridge.’ ”
    Ari scowled at him. “That was porridge. This isn’t.”
    Nothing has changed, Morag thought fondly, watching Neall pull out the bench to accommodate Ari’s belly. And everything has changed. Looking at the contentment on Sheridan’s face and Morphia’s heavy eyes, she didn’t think her sister had gotten much sleep