Aisling sat in the shadows at the edges of the gathering, an odd place for the spritely little mare to be indeed. Even in her role of Thief to the Lady of the Basin, Aisling concealed herself rarely and lurked hardly ever, but there was something, something in her bones that held her fast to the shadows. The winter had been long, and all through those many months there had been a trembling insider of her: a twitch and a shiver that tickled its way up her spine too often as of late. It came again, in the presence of Kisamoa.
He had summoned them and spoke again to a gathered crowd and Aisling’s storm-grey eyes scrutinized the strange being with a xenophobic air uncertainty. Different. Unsettling. Unnatural.
"Friends! The time has come!” he said, as though about to unveil some great new feat and the little enchantress shifted uncomfortably. He had created a land bridge, and she had thought of sea sprites, but he made no further mischief. He had lured some into the ocean’s depths, and she had thought of selkies, but he had drowned none…
Now he spoke of cleaning, of clearing, that shouldn’t be cause for alarm, and yet…
“…collect as many bones as we can…
…a plan for these bones as well…
…And remember! Bones must be brought here…”
A shiver ran down the thief’s spine again, and at her feet, the feathered dragon Sorcha felt the tremor through their bond. Emerald eyes, that had never once looked upon anything in anger, narrowed in Kisamoa’s direction and the dragon hissed like an angry cat before scampering up her mistress’s leg and curling defensively along her withers.
This isn’t right…something’s not right. You don’t disturb bones where they lay. Aisling glanced around the gathering, horses in all directions were moving off to follow instructions, and-her heart stuttered. Larue was here, and Johnny, and others from the Basin but there was no sign of her Lady. The little enchantress kicked into motion, moving with the tide of horses and picking her way through them until the could nip at her daughter’s shoulder.
"Larue, dul abhaile agus mura bhfanann sibh anseo. Dul anois!" Her tone brokered no nonsense and her eyes were already scanning to see which direction her mate had wandered off to.
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Translations
Larue, dul abhaile agus mura bhfanann sibh anseo. Dul anois. - Larue, go home, do not stay in this place. Go now!
Mentions
@Larue
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