Blood Magick (The Cousins O'Dwyer Trilogy #3)(90)

She had to pause a moment, press her hands to her face, gathered back her calm.

“I knew you were beyond where I could reach. I tried to pull you back. Tried to heal the wounds, but nothing I did stopped the blood. I thought you would die in your sleep, trapped in some dream he dragged you into, blocked me out of. You’d die because I couldn’t reach you. He’d taken you from me when it seems I’ve only gotten you back. You’d die because I wasn’t strong enough to heal you.”

“But you did just that, and I didn’t die, did I?” He slid up behind her, pressed a kiss to her shoulder. “You cried for me.”

“Tears of panic and frustration.”

But when he kissed her shoulder again, she spun around, wrapped around him, rocked. “Where did you go? Where did he take you?”

“He didn’t take me, that I’m sure of. I went back to the night Cabhan killed Daithi. I saw Sorcha. I spoke with her.”

Branna jerked back. “You spoke with her.”

“As I’m speaking to you. You look so like her.” He brushed her hair behind her back. “So very like her, though her eyes are dark, they have the same look as yours. It’s the strength in them. And the power.”

“What did she say to you?”

“I’ll tell you, but I think it’s best to tell all of us. And the truth is I could use some time to sort through it all myself.”

“Then I’ll tell them to come.”

She dressed, asked him no more questions. In truth, she needed the time herself, to settle, to put on her armor. Not since the day she’d seen the mark on him had she felt the level of fear, of grief she’d known that dawn. She asked herself if feeling so much had blocked her powers to heal him, to bring him out of the dream. And didn’t know the answers.

When she went down, she noted he’d put the kettle on, and already had coffee waiting for her.

“You’ll think you need to cook up breakfast for the lot of us,” he began. “We can fend for ourselves.”

“It keeps my hands busy. If you want to fend, scrub and chip up some potatoes. You’ve skill enough for that.”

They worked in silence until the others began to straggle in.

“Looks like a full fry’s coming,” Connor commented. “But a damned early hour for it. Had an adventure, did you?” he said to Fin.

“You could say it was.”

“But you’re okay.” Iona touched his arm as if checking for herself.

“I am, and also clever enough to turn over the duty dropped on me here to Boyle, who has a better hand with it.”

“Nearly all do.” Boyle shoved up his sleeves and joined Branna.

With the air of anticipation hanging, they set the table, brewed tea, made the coffee, sliced the bread.

When all were settled at the table, all eyes turned to Fin.

“It’s a strange tale, though some of it we know from the books. I found myself riding Baru at a hard gallop on a dirt road still hard from winter.”

He wound his way through it, doing his best to leave out no details.

“Wait now.” Boyle held up a hand. “How can you be so sure Cabhan didn’t reel you into this? The wolf attacked you, went for your throat, and our Branna couldn’t get through to help you, or to bring you back. It sounds like Cabhan’s doing.”

“I took him by surprise, I can swear to that. The wolf came at me only because I was there, and might interfere with the murder. If Cabhan had wanted to do me harm, why not lie in wait, and come at me? No, his aim was Daithi, and my coming into it something unexpected.

“I couldn’t save him, and thinking over it all, was never meant to save him.”

“He was a sacrifice,” Iona said quietly. “His death, like Sorcha’s, gave birth to the three.”

“He had eyes like yours, bright and blue. I could see, when I could see, how brave and fierce he fought. But no matter that, no matter what I could bring to help, nothing could change what was done. Cabhan’s power was great, more than he has now. Sorcha dimmed that power, though he healed. I think now some of the hunger that drives him is to gain it all back again. And to gain it, he must take it from the three.”

“He never will,” Branna said. “Tell them the rest. I only know a little of it.”

“Daithi fell. I thought I could heal his wound, but it was too late for that. He drew his last breath almost as soon as I put my hands on him. And then she came. Sorcha.”

“Sorcha?” Meara set down the coffee she’d started to drink. “She was there with you?”

“We spoke. It seemed a long time there on the bloody road, but I think it wasn’t.”

He went over it, word by word, her grief, her remorse, her strength. And then the words that changed so much inside him.

“Daithi? You come from him, your blood is mixed with his and Cabhan’s?” Shaken, Branna got slowly to her feet. “How could I have not known? How could none of us have known? It’s him you carry, it’s him and what’s in you that beats back Cabhan at every turn. But I didn’t see it. Or wouldn’t. Because I saw the mark.”

“How could you see what I myself couldn’t see in me? I saw the mark and let that weigh as heavy as you did. Heavier, I think. She knew, as she said, she knew, but didn’t believe or trust. So I think she brought me there, to see what I would do. That last test of what burned strongest in me.”