Of Blood and Bone (Chronicles of The One #2)(93)

“We buried them under the tree,” Travis told her. “With Grandma and Granddad. You can visit them.”

“I will.” She looked around, the hills, the woods, the garden, the bees, the fields. “It looks the same. I’m so glad it looks the same.”

“You don’t.”

She returned Colin’s appraising look. “You, either.”

“I hereby declare today a Swift Family Holiday,” Simon announced. The boys cheered. “Guys, let’s get Fallon’s things inside, see to the horses. And where did you get that magnificent stallion? That’s one hell of a horse.”

“He’s not exactly a horse.” Ethan walked right up to Laoch. “He’s more.”

“He’s more,” Fallon agreed. “Do you want to see?”

She met Laoch’s eyes. He tossed back his head. Revealed his horn, spread his wings.

“Son of a bitch,” Simon managed, grinning as the boys moved in to touch.

“He won’t hurt them.” Anticipating her mother, Fallon took Lana’s hand. “He’d never hurt what’s mine. He’s Laoch,” she told her brothers.

“Where did you get him?” Ethan rubbed his cheek against Laoch’s.

“It’s a story.”

“Does it include how you came by that white wolf and owl?” Simon wondered.

“Yeah.”

“I sure want to hear it.”

“You must be hungry. You can tell us your stories while you eat. Pancakes.”

She didn’t have the heart to tell her mother she wasn’t hungry. Plus, her mother’s pancakes could stir anyone’s appetite.

“The men will take care of all this.” Lana slipped an arm around Fallon’s waist. As she led Fallon toward the house, Colin started to object.

Simon cut him off with a look. “Your mom needs a little time with her. You’ll get plenty. Plus, it’s not every day you get to handle a flying unicorn.”

“Alicorn,” Ethan told him. “He’s an alicorn.”

“Is that so? Well, let’s unpack Fallon’s alicorn, get him and Grace into the paddock—though a fence seems useless. Then we’ll eat some pancakes.”

Inside, Fallon wandered around the kitchen. She smelled yeast from the dough already rising in her mother’s big white bowl, and the herbs in the pots on the windowsill.

“I was going to make a feast for your homecoming, and we were going to decorate—” Lana’s voice broke. “Was he kind to you? Was Mallick kind to you?”

“Yes. Strict, and he could be hard, but he was kind, too. He taught me so much. He let me see you, all of you, in the fire once. He wasn’t supposed to, but I was so homesick.”

“I felt you, and it lifted my heart. The sword.”

Laying a hand on its hilt, Fallon nodded.

“You opened the Book of Spells, went into the Well of Light.” Turning away, Lana began to gather what she needed for pancakes.

“We’ll talk about it, all of it, but I think for now, over pancakes, we’ll talk of other things. Of your white triad, and—”

She broke off again when Fallon’s arms came around her. “Don’t worry. I’m home now.”

For how long? Lana wondered, but closed her hand over her daughter’s. “Yes, you’re home now.”





CHAPTER NINETEEN


She ate pancakes and realized just how much she’d missed her mother’s cooking. She entertained her brothers with stories of quests and faerie glades. She told them about Mick and learning how to scale a tree like an elf.

For this time, this reunion around the kitchen table, she made two years of training sound like an adventure.

And fooled no one.

In the spirit of holiday, chores waited for later. She let her brothers take turns petting Faol Ban, who tolerated the gang of boys stoically. When she lifted her arm, the owl glided from the branch of the apple tree, came to her.

“He’s Taibhse.”

“Why’d you give him such a weird name? Why’d you give them all weird names?” Colin demanded.

“It means ghost, like Faol Ban means white wolf and Laoch means hero. It’s Irish, and they came to me with their names.”

“Why didn’t you give them other names in English?” Colin challenged. “The only one around here who talks Irish is the old lady at Sisters Farm.”

“I do, too,” she stated matter-of-factly, and Colin didn’t respond.

She’d missed her mother’s cooking, Fallon thought, and weird as it was, she’d missed that suspicious, challenging look on Colin’s face.

Travis touched his fingers lightly to the tip of the owl’s wing.

“Would—Say his name again?” he asked.

“Taibhse.”

“Would Taibhse come to me?”

“He might, but you’d need a falconer’s glove. His talons.”

“Fallon doesn’t need a glove because he’s hers.” Ethan looked up at his sister. “Can we ride Laoch?”

“You want to fly?”

Lana, who’d been simply drinking in watching her kids, jerked, stepped forward. “I don’t think so.”