Son of the Shadows. Juliet Marillier

clumps of bushes. I did not call out. There was no telling if what I had seen was merely a trick of the light on the dark foliage, or something more. And I had learned to move through the woods in silence. It was an essential skill for self-preservation, Father said. There it was again, just ahead of me behind the rowans, a hint of blue like a fold of cloth, and a flash of white, a long, delicate hand. This time the gesture was unmistakable. This way, it motioned. Come this way. I went on softly down the path.

      Niamh would never believe, later, that I had not come there on purpose to find out her secret. I moved down quietly under the willows, until the calm surface of the pool came into view. I halted, frozen with shock. She had not seen me. Nor had he. They had eyes only for each other, as they stood there waist-deep, their bodies mirrored in the water under the tree canopy, their skin dappled with the sunlight through summer leaves. Her white arms were wrapped closely around his neck; his auburn head was bent to kiss her bare shoulder, and her back arched with a primitive grace as she responded to the touch of his lips. The long, bright curtain of her hair fell about her, echoing the gold of the sunlight, and not quite concealing the fact that she was naked.

      Feelings warred within me. Shock, fright, a fervent wish that I had gone elsewhere for my small harvest. The knowledge that I should stop looking immediately. The complete inability to tear my eyes away. For what I saw, though deeply wrong, was also beautiful beyond my imaginings. The play of light on water, of shadow on pearly skin, the twining of their two bodies, the way they were so utterly lost in each other – to see this was as wondrous as it was deeply unsettling. If this was what I was supposed to feel for Eamonn, then I had done well to make him wait. There came a point, as the young druid’s hands moved down my sister’s body, and he lifted her, pulling her urgently towards him, when I knew I could watch no longer, and I retreated silently back under the willows, and walked blindly in the direction of home, my mind in a turmoil. Of the strange guide who had beckoned me to find them, there was now no sign at all.

      Bad luck. Bad timing. Or perhaps it was meant, that the first person I should meet was my brother. That this should happen halfway across the home pastures, while my mind was filled with the image of those two young bodies wrapped so closely together, as if they were but a single creature. Perhaps the Fair Folk had a hand in it, or maybe, as Niamh said later, it was all my fault for spying. I have spoken of how it was between my brother and me. When we were younger, we would often share our thoughts and secrets direct, mind to mind, with no need at all for speech. All twins are close, but the bond between us went far deeper; in an instant we could summon one another, almost as if we had shared some part of our spirit, before ever the two of us saw the outside world. But lately we had, in unspoken agreement, chosen to shut off that link. The secrets of a young man who courts his first sweetheart are too delicate to share with a sister. As for me, I had no wish to tell him of my fears for Niamh, or my misgivings about the future. But now I could not prevent this. For it is the way of things, for those who are as close as Sean and I, that when one feels sharp distress, or pain, or an intense joy, it spills over so strongly that the other must share it. I had no way to keep him out at such times, no controls with which to set a shield on my mind. I could not block out the small, crystal-clear image of my sister and her druid, mirrored in still water, locked in each other’s arms. And what I saw and felt, my brother saw also.

      ‘What is this?’ Sean exclaimed in horror. ‘Is this today? Is it now?’

      I nodded miserably.

      ‘By the Dagda, I will kill this fellow with my own hands! How dare he defile my sister thus?’

      It seemed to me he would rush into the woods that instant, bent on punishment.

      ‘Stop. Stop it, Sean. Anger will achieve nothing here. This may not be so bad.’

      He took hold of my shoulders as we stood there in the middle of the field, and made me look him straight in the eye. I saw on his face the reflection of what I read in his mind – shock, fury, outrage.

      ‘I cannot believe this,’ he muttered. ‘How could Niamh be a willing partner in something so utterly foolish? Doesn’t she know she’s put the whole alliance at risk? Merciful gods, how could we have been so blind? Blind, all of us! Come, Liadan, we must return to the house and tell them.’

      ‘No! Don’t tell, not yet. At least let me speak to Niamh first. I see – I see ill from this. A more terrible ill than you can imagine. Sean. Sean, stop.’

      ‘It’s too late. Much too late.’ Sean’s decision was made and he was not listening to me. He turned for the house, gesturing for me to follow him. ‘They must be told, and now. We may still salvage something from this mess, if it is kept quiet. Why didn’t you tell me? How long have you known of this?’

      As we walked up to the house, a grim-faced Sean striding ahead and I reluctantly following in his wake, it seemed to me we brought a shadow with us, the deepest of shadows. ‘I did not know. Not until now. I guessed; but not that it had come so far. Sean. Must you tell them?’

      ‘There’s no choice. She’s to wed the Uí Néill. Our whole venture depends on that link. I dare not contemplate what this will do to Mother. How could Niamh have done such a thing? It’s beyond all reason.’

      Father was out, working in one of his plantations. Mother was resting. But Liam was there, and so it was he who got the news first. I was prepared for outraged disapproval, for anger. I was completely taken aback by the way my uncle’s face changed, as Sean told him what I had seen. The look in his eyes was more than shock. I saw revulsion, and was it fear? Surely not. Liam, afraid?

      When my uncle spoke at last, it was clear he was exercising the greatest control to keep his voice calm. Nonetheless, it shook as he spoke.

      ‘Sean. Liadan. I must ask you for your help. This matter must go no further than the family. That’s of the utmost importance. Sean, I want you to fetch Conor here. Go yourself, and go alone. Tell him it’s urgent, but don’t speak of the reason to anyone else. You’d better leave now. And keep your anger in check, for everyone’s sake. Liadan, I am reluctant to involve you, for such matters are not fit for a young woman’s eyes or ears. But you are family, and you are part of this now, like it or not. Thank the gods Eamonn and his sister are no longer at Sevenwaters. Now, I want you to go down and wait for Niamh; keep watch by your garden entry until you see her on her way home. Then bring her straight to me in the private chamber. Again, I cannot stress too strongly, no talk. Not to anyone. I will send for your father, and break this news to him myself.’

      ‘What about Mother?’ I had to ask.

      ‘She must be told,’ he said soberly. ‘But not yet. Let her have a little more peace before she must know.’

      So I waited for Niamh, and as I waited I watched Sean ride away under the trees in the direction of the place the druids had their dwelling, deep in the heart of the forest. The dust flew under his horse’s feet.

      I waited a long time, until it was nearly dusk. I was cold, and my head was aching, and there was a strange sort of fear in me that seemed quite out of proportion to the problem. I had been over and over it in my mind. Perhaps she really loved him, and he her. It had certainly looked that way. Maybe he was the son of a good family, and maybe it didn’t really matter whether he remained a druid or not, and – then I remembered the look on Liam’s face, and I knew that my thoughts were utterly futile. There was far more here than I could rightly understand.

      It was very hard to tell Niamh. She was radiant with happiness, her skin glowing, her eyes bright as stars. She wore a wreath of wildflowers on her shining hair, and her feet were bare beneath the hem of her white gown.

      ‘Liadan! What on earth are you doing out here? It’s nearly dark.’

      ‘They know,’ I said straight out, and watched her face change as the light went out of her eyes, quenched as quickly as a doused candle. ‘I – I was picking herbs, and I saw you, and –’

      ‘You told! You told Sean! Liadan, how could you do such a thing?’ She gripped my arms, digging her fingers in until I gasped with pain. ‘You’ve ruined everything! Everything! I hate you!’

      ‘Niamh.