AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He opened it to find an artist’s case filled with pencils, paints, chalks, a sketch pad, and two small canvases.
“This is brilliant.”
“I thought having some extra supplies here at the cottage would be handy.”
“It’s grand, truly.”
She chose another package, walked back to give it to Keegan. “Merry Christmas.”
“Thanks.” Like Derrick, he pulled off the fancy ribbon, tore the pretty paper.
She’d made it, with considerable care, the band of leather and the single central stone, the labradorite she’d carved magickally in the shape of a dragon in flight.
“I know you don’t generally wear—”
“I’ll wear this,” he interrupted. “It’s Cróga.”
“I had a lot of help with that from Sedric and Nan.”
“It’s very like, and means much.” He put it on, twisted the ties to secure it. “He’ll be pleased as well. You’ll have yours then.” Rising, he retrieved a long cloth sack from behind the tree. “I’m not one for wrapping.”
“So I get a pretty bag.” She untied the cord, pulled out a sheathed sword.
“That’s going to rank high on the unusual gift list.” With a half chuckle, Marco drank more wassail.
Amused herself, Breen ran a finger over the carvings on the sheath. “Beautiful, intricate.”
“And I had a bit of help there on the design, thanks to Brian and Sedric as well. You have the symbols of the Fey, all the tribes represented, and the symbol for man, and for the goddess.”
“And the twin moons of Talamh.” She traced them. “Oh, and a shamrock, for Ireland.” Delighted now, she scanned symbols. “Marco, there’s a Liberty Bell, crack and all, for Philadelphia.”
“Okay, points for that.”
“The apple,” Keegan told her, “for New York, as you have business there, and the dragon, as you’re a rider. You need a sword of your own, not one borrowed. In tradition, a sword is passed down when it can be, but your father’s is too heavy to suit you. This is cast to your hand and arm, your size.”
She gripped the hilt and felt the difference. Just a bit smaller than the one she used for training, and when she drew it out, felt, too, the slight difference in weight.
“Careful, girl, you could put someone’s eye out with that.”
But she only stared at the blade, and the word carved into it.
Misneach.
“Thank you.” She sheathed the sword, then kissed him. “It means much.”
Later, when the fire burned low, they went upstairs. She sat to take off her boots.
“That’s clever, isn’t it?” Keegan commented when she tugged down the hidden zipper. “Makes for an easy on and off. They’re… provocative.”
She glanced up. “Are they?”
“As well you know. Makes a man wonder how you’d look wearing them and little else.”
“Marco decreed an oversize man’s shirt with them. Maybe I’ll try one of yours one day.”
“That’d be a picture for certain.” He paced to the window, back again. “Breen, I know the day of Christmas is important for you, but I have to go to the Capital and deal with the Judgment on this woman. I can’t let it wait.”
“Oh. Yes, you’re right. We’ll leave in the morning.”
