AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“All this bat shit”—she kicked at it—“should help.”
He stared at it. “How?”
“’Tis rich in nitrate. I believe ’twas used in gunpowder at some point.”
Angus grinned. “Guess there’s something to be said for being old—and having access to your memories.”
She laughed, and the sound warmed him. “Never tell a woman she’s old.” Arianrhod made her way toward the opening.
“I’ll try to remember that. Where are you going?”
“We’ll still need tinder. ’Twill smell bad enough in here burning bat shit. Best to break it up with wood.”
It took them until shadows gathered across the moors to round up what they needed for a fire. Angus kept an anxious eye out for other people, but he hadn’t sensed a soul close by since they arrived.
“Best get to it,” he said to bolster his confidence. He wanted to know about his future with Arianrhod, but what if the answers weren’t what he hoped?
A small jolt told him she’d been inside his head. “Aye,” she concurred. “I want answers as well.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Surely Bran, god of prophecy, could serve as seer when you have need to scry the future.”
“Aye, but he’s a terrible gossip. Worse than the Morrigan for spreading juicy bits about.” Arianrhod shook her head, and her hair brushed the dirt floor they’d taken time to clear. A mound of bat guano sat near the hearth. “Ye’re stalling.”
He was. Angus focused a trickle of magic to light the tinder piled in the hearth. It caught, smoking a bit before it developed a life of its own. He shucked his jacket and rolled up his shirtsleeves. Next he tugged his dirk from its waist sheath and drew it down both forearms. Once blood flowed, he held his arms over the blaze, waiting for his essence to blend with the fire.
When it came, the trance hit with such force his head snapped backward, and he nearly lost his balance. The air glistened wetly around him, and he breathed the metallic scent of power deep into his lungs, displacing the rancid stench of burning bat shit.
He readied his questions, waiting.
“Grandson!” Cathbad wavered into view.
“Sire.” Angus bowed. “I’d thought of calling for you, but hadn’t yet.”
“I knew ye’d have need of me. Once I felt your energy, I summoned a trance state. Our time will be short. Ask what ye will.”
“Tell me of Arianrhod. Do we have a future together?”
Cathbad narrowed his eyes. “Aye and nay.”
Angus waited, wanting to shake truth out of his kinsman, yet understanding strong emotion would unravel the vision. Having made that mistake in the time shaft, he wasn’t anxious to repeat it.
“Good ye’re not peppering me with questions.” Cathbad nodded approvingly. “She carries your child—”
“That’s excellent news!” Angus wanted to whoop, turn cartwheels for the joy surging through him, but positive emotions could undo the trance too.
“Ye havena heard the rest. She must hide from her people long enough to carry and wean your son, then she will bring him to you to raise.”
Angus sorted through Cathbad’s words. “Why can’t we live as a couple? Raise him together.”
“’Tisn’t what I’ve seen.” He hesitated a beat then went on. “The boy is important. He has a critical role to play. Ye must do this. Ye havena a choice.”
“Will Arianrhod and I ever get a chance to live together openly? To marry?”
Cathbad hesitated, then said, “Such hasna been given to me to know. Not yet, anyway. Hold hope, though. ’Tis always possible.”
A welter of emotions pummeled Angus, but he couldn’t let any of them out to play. “I will fulfill my part.”
“’Twill mean ye’ll continue as ye’ve been, living with the Celts and working whatever tasks they send your way.”
