She squeezed Cian’s fingers, waiting for her reaction.
“I think we all feel that way right now,” Cian said carefully. “But it doesn’t give you leave to behave recklessly.”
Dropping Cian’s hands, Eira took a deep breath as she struggled to keep her temper in check. “Of course you’re right, Cian. But you have my word that my patrol is merely an excuse for a night ride. I need time alone and away from here.”
She began to turn away, but Cian ran past her, blocking her path.
“I know you still see me as a child,” Cian said.
“A child?” Eira laughed. “Neither of us are children—we haven’t been for a long time.”
“Then stop dismissing me like I’m only your younger sister and listen to me as you would another member of the Circle,” Cian said. “As I am.”
“Cian, please hear me as your elder sister, as your friend.” Eira felt desperation creeping into her voice. “I need this time alone.”
Cian gazed at her, frowning, and suddenly Eira thought she was looking at the little girl who’d been at her side every day of her life. Within the depths of her sister’s eyes she saw trust, and guilt tried to worm into her heart. Eira broke eye contact.
“You have to let me go,” she said. “Alone.”
Stepping to the side, Cian said, “You know I won’t stop you.”
Eira began to walk away without looking at her sister. Her chest cramped when Cian’s voice followed her:
“Be careful.”
Though her heartbeat had set off at a gallop, Eira kept Geal at a slow pace for the duration of the climb into the hills. Her mind was too full of thoughts, questions, and doubts. She needed time to think, to be sure that she remained in control of this odd arrangement she’d entered into with Bosque Mar.
Spring showed its true tempestuous nature this evening. Gales shrieked over the slopes, burning Eira’s cheeks and whipping her cloak about. She rode on, impervious to the elements that attempted to deter her from this journey.
When she arrived at the cairn, she tethered her horse. Despite the many visits she’d made to this place, Geal had never adjusted to Bosque’s presence. She couldn’t trust that her mount wouldn’t flee upon his arrival.
Eira drew her dagger, gazing at her palm. The pale flesh was whole, unmarked. No matter how many times she cut into her hand, drawing the blood that was necessary to summon Bosque, his healing power left her palm perfectly intact. No scars. No pain. His power had saved Cian’s life.
The ritual of calling him with her blood only to offer up her hand for him to heal had settled deep in Eira’s bones. While she wouldn’t describe it as trust, she did sense a change in her regard for him. She felt an assurance in his company, a stilling of the restlessness she suffered behind the walls of Tearmunn. An easing of the worries that had plagued her for so long.
As the blade sliced her flesh, she noted the way her pulse slowed. Her breath eased.
“I’ve missed you.” Bosque’s long form slipped from the cover of mist.
Eira didn’t answer but lifted her palm, which he took into his hands.
“How is your work progressing?” he asked as he closed the wound.
Though the cut was healed, he continued to press her hand between his. Eira didn’t try to pull away.
“As I expected,” she told him, “there are those who will easily be swayed. And those who will not.”
With a brief smile, she asked, “And how are you finding your new home?”
“Quite pleasant.” He laughed. “The abbot spared no expense appointing his manor.”
Eira cringed, saying, “I’m too familiar with that truth.”
He shrugged. “I’m happy enough to reap the benefits of his greed.”
“How is the abbot?” she asked.
“Still groveling.” Bosque released her hand, and Eira was startled by the sudden cold that poured over her. “He will never pose a threat to you again.”
She felt the same thrill that lit her blood when the abbot had been in the throes of torment, held captive by Bosque’s wraith. “Good. And his household?”
“Those who resisted have been dealt with,” he told her. “The rest have wisely submitted themselves to my service.”
She nodded. “We can’t afford for anyone to know things have changed for the abbot. Not yet.”
“I will act as you see fit,” he said. “But the longer you delay, the less likely you’ll be able to maintain the element of surprise.”
“I know.” Eira frowned.
Bosque walked around her in a slow circle. “Those of your people who are resistant . . . what would it take to spur them to action?”
She licked her lips, thinking. “A greater threat than what the abbot represented. Something more immediate.”
“Something like Dorusduain?” Bosque asked, smiling slowly. “Or perhaps something even more frightening?”
Eira’s pulse skipped into a faster rhythm. “An attack?”
He didn’t answer, but continued to smile.
“It would create alarm,” she mused. “Urgency that might outweigh caution.”
“What about an enemy they cannot defeat?” Bosque was behind her, murmuring into her ear. “Save for your assistance?”
Shuddering, she whispered, “Your wraiths?”
“No man can destroy them,” he said. “And I can place them at your command. To use as you see fit.”
Her breath was coming hard. “Yes.”
“It should be soon,” he said quietly. “And costly enough to provoke them—only true sacrifice births the hunger for retribution.”
“True sacrifice.” Eira closed her eyes.
“And if we make this pact, it requires something of you.” He rested his hands on her shoulders. “Something more than what you’ve already given.”
She tensed and his laugh was low, with a cutting edge.
“My lady, it is not what you’re thinking,” he told her. “My wants are not like those of other men. I desire your love and loyalty, but I do not ask for your body.”
Eira turned to face him. “What must I do?”
He took her chin in his hand. “If you wish to command my servants, which is to truly share in my power, you must be loyal to me and only to me. Swear your allegiance and I will serve you always. Each decision you make will be supported by all I have at my command. Any who oppose you will fall.”