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“I did, I did, but thank you again. Come watch me win a prize tossing the ball!”
“I’ll be right along.” Tarryn held out her hands to Breen as Finian raced away. “You put a light in his eyes.”
“I think that was Lonrach.”
“One and the same. Oh, I’m glad to be in the valley. The festival inthe Capital is glorious, I can’t say different, but I so looked forward to having this time here. Are you enjoying it all?”
“Every minute. Minga didn’t come?”
“Not this time. She’s needed where she is. As is Keegan, I’m afraid. But you’ll see him here tomorrow.”
Tomorrow, she thought, and watched Finian win his prize, saw Morena and Brian advance to the next round. She sat with Marg on a wall and ate hand pies full of meat and spices.
Marco’s soda bread fell to Finola’s, but his lemon meringue pie triumphed.
“And look at you, two ribbons, is it?” Marg heaved a mock sigh. “You put us to shame, Marco.”
“Wait until tomorrow, and my pound cake.” He dropped down with them, with his happy excitement flowing. “And speaking of tomorrow. I have to root for Brian, because true love. You, Breen, you’ve got to root for Morena. We want one of them to score that golden arrow. Good thing Keegan’s not here and can’t compete anyway. Downside of the taoiseaching. Brian says nobody beats him with a bow—plus, you’d have to root for him, because true love. And don’t bother saying different.”
She shrugged before she realized that was Keegan’s move. “Girl solidarity.”
Eyebrows wiggling, Marco elbowed Marg. “But she didn’t say different.”
She enjoyed it, every minute, even as another day slipped away, as the moons rose too soon.
And when dawn broke on the longest day, she stood in Talamh watching the light come, hearing the stones sing.
Feeling the magicks rise.
She could have asked for nothing more beautiful, or a stronger sign that she would make the right choice. That when the longest day came again, the light would come and the stones sing.
Being Marco, he took over the farm kitchen for a big solstice breakfast. She sat at the table with so many she loved, listening to the voices, seeing the faces.
No, she could have asked for nothing more.
“This is the big one,” Marco said as they walked the path back to Talamh after a trip to the cottage to get the last mountain of his baked goods. “And you know, maybe it’ll be just what it’s supposed to be. Just a celebration. Nobody’s seen any sign the last couple, right?”
“Please don’t count on that, Marco. You need to stay prepared.”
“I’m prepared. I’m prepared to win my third ribbon, because nobody nowhere’s tasted the likes of my kick-ass pound cake.”
“I can’t argue with that, because I’ve had your pound cake.”
“Damn straight. And I’m prepared to fight that psycho if he tries to spoil everything. We’ve got you, Breen, today and always.”
They crossed over.
“Glad we got here earlier today,” he said. “I want to see if Loga holds his championship. Man, look at those jugglers today! Tossing flaming torches back and forth up there. Cirque du Soleil’s got nothing on the valley.”
She walked with him to his stand. “It’s home for you now, like your cottage will be. We both ended up living in two worlds, Marco, when for most of our lives we never really fit in one.”
“Except at Sally’s.”
“Except at Sally’s.”
“I see worry coming in, right here.” He tapped a finger between her eyebrows. “You just…” He trailed off, smiled. Then he turned her around, pointed up. “Look up there.”
She looked, and saw Keegan soaring in on Cróga, flanked by two riders.
