The Pillars of the World

Chapter Thirty-four

Flustered and furious, Dianna galloped down the shining road through the Veil to Brightwood.

She’d settle this with Lyrra once and for all. Just see if she didn’t. The gall of the woman! If one of the Fae staying at Brightwood hadn’t come up the road to tell her about Lyrra’s betrayal, when would she have known? When the road started to close?

She burst out of the trees that bordered the meadow. A low stone wall was in front of her, one she hadn’t seen before. She jumped the pale mare over the wall, ignoring the shouts of the Fae working nearby as the mare trampled the young green plants growing in the turned earth. She jumped the wall near the cottage, then brought the mare to a scrambling halt just outside the kitchen door.

She pushed her way through the kitchen crowded with Fae, strode through the main room, and threw open the bedroom door.

Lyrra stared at her for a moment, then resumed packing her saddlebags.

“So it’s true,” Dianna said. “You’re really doing this.”

“Yes,” Lyrra replied calmly, “I’m leaving.”

Dianna slammed the door shut, and shouted, “How can you be so selfish? Don’t you realize what this means?”

Lyrra threw down the tunic she’d just finished folding and turned to face Dianna. “It means you’re going to have to keep your promise. It means you’re going to have to stay at Brightwood to be the anchor that helps the rest of the Fae here keep the shining road open.”

“You’re the anchor. You’re the one who has some trace of the House of Gaian in you, which we need to hold the road.”

“And you’re the one who has the moon magic that will also hold the road. We tested that, remember?”

Dianna’s hands curled into fists. Of course she remembered, but that had nothing to do with anything. “You promised to stay!”

“I promised to stay a few days while you went back to Tir Alainn to pack the things you wanted to bring down to Brightwood. You promised to be back in a few days, Dianna. That was in the autumn. Now it’s spring. And now I’m leaving.”

“You’re needed here!”

Lyrra pointed toward the window that looked out onto the road. “I’m needed out there. My work is out there. Most of the Clans still don’t believe they need to do anything to keep Tir Alainn safe. I have to tell them. I have to convince them. Aiden’s doing everything he can, but he can’t do it alone.”

“Your work,” Dianna sneered. “Your work. You don’t need to be wandering around in the human world to do your work. This isn’t about your work, it’s about Aiden. You just can’t stand knowing he’s spending his time between other women’s thighs and not giving you a second thought.”

Lyrra’s eyes were blank and cold. “What he does is his own business. But he’s the Bard, and I’m the Muse. We have to get the Fae to understand that they can’t expect the House of Gaian to continue to shoulder the burden of Tir Alainn’s existence while they do nothing.”

“They’re only witches!” Dianna shouted.

Lyrra’s eyes turned colder. “Yes,” she said softly. “I imagine that’s how we justified it all those generations ago. They were Fae, but they weren’t really Fae. They weren’t like the rest of us. And they weren’t. They were the Daughters, the wellsprings through which the Mother’s power flowed, the Pillars of the World.” She closed her eyes, turned away. “They owe us nothing. But we owe them. It’s time we paid that debt with something more than trinkets and stud service to breed the next generation.”

Lyrra took a deep breath, let it out slowly, then continued her packing. “I read the journals.”

“You had no right to look at them,” Dianna snapped. “Those were private journals that belong to Ari’s family.”

“Ari and her family are gone. There’s no one left to read them. Except us.” She fastened her saddlebags, then turned to look at Dianna. “A couple of journals seem to be missing. There were gaps in her family’s story.”

Why should I care about the journals? Dianna thought. They’re not important now. If Lyrra doesn’t stay . . .

“If you’re so determined to leave,” Dianna said, “wait another day or two so that I—”

“Can make another promise you have no intention of keeping?” Lyrra shook her head. “Whether you leave or stay is up to you.” She started to say something else, then stopped and picked up her saddlebags. “Aiden has the horses saddled by now. He’s waiting for me.”

“Oh, yes,” Dianna said bitterly. “When Aiden snaps his fingers, you dance to his tune.”

Lyrra stared at her for a moment, then brushed past her, opened the door, and left the room.

Dianna waited until she heard the front door open and close before she walked out of the bedroom.

The main room was filled with Fae. Friends. Family. All looking at her with eyes that silently pleaded.

She walked back into the bedroom and shut the door. She stood there for a few minutes, doing nothing, seeing nothing. Then she walked into the dressing room and stared out the window.

A hawk flew low across the meadow, a rabbit in his talons. Falco, bringing meat for the evening meal.

Tears filled Dianna’s eyes. She pressed a hand against her mouth to keep from sobbing.

If she left now and the shining road closed, her Clan wouldn’t remember that it was really Lyrra’s fault. They would blame her.

So she was trapped here. She would live here in the cottage, confined to the boundaries of the Old Place, while she watched the families of her Clan come and go to a place she would never see again.

She swallowed against the bitterness that welled up inside her. And she wondered, briefly, if this was how the witches had felt when the Fae had gone to Tir Alainn and had left them to anchor the world they had created and never got to see.